I’ve seen many weird things in my life. I crossed oceans, fought ponies, monsters, and Epona’s Witnesses. I tore off the mask of reality and stared into the face of what’s beneath it. It wasn’t nice.

Still, there are things that aren’t easy for me. In this case, making an international call in the world where all the wires can sooner or later be eaten by something you didn’t even know existed. And, of course there are all those ponies in the post office, judging you.

“International call,” I say to the alpaca behind the counter. “Ponyville, Equestria.”

She points to one of the phones hanging from the wall and walks to the plugboard. It seems that you can call half of the world from here. I grab the receiver and wait, listening to static and various psychedelic beeps as the signal travels across the whole continent. Judging by the sounds, at some point it’s relayed by a foal with a signalling drum, hidden somewhere in the jungle.

“Number please.” The voice on the other side is bored and distant. “I’d like to remind you that international call costs twenty bits per minute and we have only two phone lines in the whole town.”

“Fine,” I mutter. “Now I’d like to talk with someone in Turner and Berry. The number is–”

“I know.” I hear a click and wait some more time, hoping that Berry Punch is in her office, sober.

“Morgue, how can I help you?”

I sigh. “Cherry Berry? Stop screwing around and tell me how’s Hot Coco. We’ll need her.”

Cherry Berry chuckles. “She scared every little wanker in Trottingham! We lost some unimportant parts on the way back, but everything is in place now!” I hear a sound suggesting that she dropped on the desk. “Still, lots of testing to be done. And Bitta Blues crashed the helicopter into the outhouse. Shit everywhere! She’s fine though, just smells bad.”

“Tell her that I’ll kill her and fire her, not necessarily in that order,” I say. “Anyway, listen to me carefully now... Do you think you’d manage to fly Hot Coco to Maneaus?”

“Maybe,” Cherry Berry replies. “Actually, it seems that there’s a 94.3% chance that we’ll make it without having to land.”

“Sounds fine to me,” I mutter, wondering how to pass more information to her. “How about going to Haygypt?”

“Overrated,” Cherry Berry says. “Dirt, heat, mosquitoes, and you spend most of your stay shitting further than you can see due to Pharaoh’s Revenge.”

“I meant the plane. It won’t lose any important parts, right?”

“It shouldn’t,” Cherry Berry says, accenting the words in some peculiar way – stressing all the wrong syllables.

“Second pilot is an important element,” I say.

I can almost hear her blush. “Then... maybe?”

“Will it go to Haygypt or not?”

“Dirt and heat may be an issue, but Hot Coco shouldn’t crap herself...” Cherry Berry replies.

Thank you for that mental image, Cherry. I’m pretty sure Inkie would be happy to hear that too.

“So, you can make a little test flight here, right?” I ask. “Oh, and don’t fire Bitta right now. Just ground her... Dunno, tell Berry to give her something to do in the office, at least till the doctor sees her.”

“Sure thing,” Cherry mutters. “Bury her underground... Or bury her in paperwork.”

“The latter,” I say. “How’s Berry, by the way? Why isn’t she in the office?”

“She’s holding wires while I went to pick up the phone,” Cherry Berry says in a tone suggesting that her insanity kicked in just a little bit.

“Why couldn’t you hold the wires?” I ask. “And what wires are those?”

“Because I went to pick up the phone.” Cherry Berry sighs. “And the wires are the ones that keep Rusty Shitter from falling apart.”

“I’m not gonna ask.”

“Then don’t ask,” Cherry Berry says. “See ya.” She throws the receiver away.

“That’ll be eighty bits,” the alpaca says, seeing that I finished the conversation. “Or three hundred eight reais and twenty centavos.”

“What?” I exclaim. “You can buy a house here for that!”

The alpaca chuckles. “Maybe a wooden hut in the jungle. Pay or I’m calling Diesel.”

Dammit. Either there’s more than one Diesel here, or the unfriendly neighbourhood bouncer also works at the post office. I don’t really feel like checking that, so I pay and walk out of the post office.

“Why the long face?” Vinyl asks, blowing the smoke out and throwing the butt of her cigarette into the nearby garbage can.

“Overpriced services,” I reply. “But at least Cherry Berry will come here with Hot Coco.”

“Overpriced services, huh?” Vinyl smirks. “Reminds me of a griffon brothel in Haysterdam. Full service, including hot tub, drinks, weed, snacks, and male, female, and something-in-between sex slaves clad in leather and silver cost thirty thousand bits for one night.”

My head hurts. “Vinyl, have you ever seen thirty thousand bits at once in your life?”

“Well...” Vinyl blushes. “Not back then. But they gave me chlamydia, so I guess that makes us even.”

“You had chlamydia?”

“Not for long.” Vinyl shrugs and lights up another cigarette. “It didn’t survive the contact with my syphilis.”

Eww. I’m pretty sure Vinyl is only alive because everything she caught because of drinking, snorting, and smoking various weird substances in strange, often unhygienic places, as well as having sex with, according to the legends, half of the civilised world, is too busy fighting one another to kill her. But her syphilis also had a good side: she calmed down a bit, at least when it comes to substance abuse.

“Anyway, what did Cherry say?” Vinyl asks as we walk down the street, back to Trixie’s house.

“It seems that she tries to build Rusty Shitter after all.” I roll my eyes.

Project #233, also known as Rusty Shitter is Cherry’s idee fixe. Currently, it consists of the first version of Hot Coco’s hull we commissioned from Manehattan Metal Industries but scrapped it due to changes in the project. The thing was gathering dust in the back of the hangar for a while, until Cherry decided to use it as a base of her idea to make something that’s both a helicopter and a plane. So far it resulted in three burnt engines, one hydraulic failure which left wings permanently stuck in the helicopter mode, and a prop falling apart and nearly beheading Ruby. And it didn’t even take off.

“We have to tell Coco not to go anywhere nearby,” Vinyl says. “Inkie would get crazy if her wife got beheaded... And she’d punch my liver out.”

“Today, it’d be your liver... Tomorrow, the whole world,” I mutter.

“Don’t even say such things...”

By the time we reach Trixie’s Funhouse, it’s almost dinner. Apparently it’s quite an important event in the town’s life – some local VIPs gather at Trixie’s place to eat and talk about recent news. From what I know, we’re also invited as some local attraction.

“There you are!” Trixie exclaims. “They’re waiting for you.”

Damn. And I didn’t brush my mane... Though as long as Vinyl is next to me, no one will notice. We walk up the stairs quickly to meet Daring Do. She’s wearing a pretty nice blue dress from Rarity – a proof that in her quest to find whatever we’re looking for, she’s ready for everything. Including a fancy party.

Unfortunately, I can’t say the same about my crew. While Ruby brushed her mane, she still looks like she’s going to kill someone. Hexie wears a harness with her tools. Inkie, for some reason, wears a leather jacket, white scarf, and goggles.

Lyra approaches us and gives me another leather jacket, complete with scarf and goggles. What the hell?

“Put it on,” Lyra says. “They want to see the brave pilots, so I guess you have to look like one.”

Yeah. Because what’s basically a Wonderbolts outfit from the times before skin-tight suits became all the rage apparently is what makes you a pilot.

We enter the hall, greeted by a thunderous applause. Most of the ponies are dressed in fancy clothes, making me feel kinda out of place. I guess Inkie feels the same – her face is now completely hidden behind her mane, so I can’t really tell. We walk to one of the small, round tables and sit at it.

“Psst... Lyra,” I whisper. “I don’t want to be that mare, but I guess you remember what happened during the last two fancy parties we were at together?”

Lyra scratches her mane. “You mean that one time when a changeling queen turned our brains into jelly and we woke up in a cave, looking for some damn flowers?”

“Yes...” I mutter. At least once we stopped yelling at each other and remembered that we can teleport, we managed to get out of the caves and make it to the wedding.

“And that bugbear thing where you ended up being launched into the air by Vinyl Scratch’s Wild Ride?”

“More or less...”

“Junkies getting sucked into puppet dimensions by chaos gods?”

“I wasn’t there,” I say. “Though maybe I should have.”

“Only if you wanted to be covered in goo,” Lyra replies.

Just when I want to say that it’s not usually my fetish, some idiot with a microphone deafens me by saying, “Welcome to the brave heroes of the air!”

“Who is that moron?” I whisper to Trixie.

“He’s the mayor.”

“That explains pretty much everything,” I mutter, staring at all those sharp-dressed ponies looking at me. Good morning, we’re all gonna die.

“I don’t get it,” Daring Do says. “I’ve been flying since I was a little kid and no one threw a party because of that. But as soon as an earth pony flies, everypony gets insane.”

“Who are you calling an earth pony?” I ask.

“Umm...” Inkie tries to give me a nasty look, but it’s kinda hard since I can’t see her face.

I decide not to reply, instead focusing on the guests. Hell, even Octavia is here. She’s sitting next to some fat pony with sideburns and a pipe. Behind them, there’s some slim pony wearing a mask covering half of their face. Octavia looks at them nervously.

I take a closer look at that weird abomination and suddenly it hits me: it’s just Wild Hunt in a fancy outfit. I guess the fat pony, the rubber baron with some unclear connections to bat pony mafia, decided that a masked servant is better than a servant who looks like they headbutted a combine harvester.

I take a look at the food in front of me. Sweet Luna on a stick, I could make hot love to that salad... But I guess I’ll have to just eat it. Ponies are watching. Okay, wankers, wanna see the brave pilot stuffing herself with olives and feta cheese? There you go.

“Excuse me, ma’am,” someone says with a clearly foreign accent. I lift my head, only to see some posh-dressed young colt standing next to Hexie. Holy hell, mate. You’re aiming pretty high.

“What’s up?” Hexie asks, not even bothering to pour something from a hip flask to her drink.

“I’d be very pleased if I could take a walk around the town with you and show you the sights...” The guy blushes.

“I’ve already seen the town, thank you.” Hexie takes a sip of her drink and winces.

“I’m pretty sure he’s hitting on you, lucky girl,” Vinyl whispers theatrically.

“Oh.” Hexie looks at the guy. “You should’ve said before that you wanted to, umm... read poetry with me.”

“Well, actually I have some poetry...”

Vinyl leans closer to Hexie. “Hmm, why don’t we find some quiet place and read poetry together?”

“The only thing I’ll ever stick in any of your orifices will be a screwdriver in your eye socket,” Hexie mutters, before turning to the guy. “Of course I’ll go with you, my friend...” She stands up and trots with the colt.

“Aren’t you worried about her?” Daring Do asks.

I shrug and go back to my salad. “I’d be more worried about this guy.”

“Minuette!” This voice is definitely female.

“No, I only like poetry written by stallions,” I say quickly, not even bothering to raise my head.

“It’s me, moron.”

“Hello, Moron, I’m Mi–” I raise my head to see Wild Hunt with her boss. He says something to her.

“He said he knows a bat pony who can fly faster than your plane,” Wild Hunt translates.

“Tell him that it’s not possible,” I say. “Also, I’m pretty sure you can’t do that.”

“I can’t, but Tyluan would like to try,” Wild Hunt replies.

“Tell Tyluan that it won’t increase the size of his dick.” I roll my eyes.

Wild Hunt chuckles. “Yes, but this moron who can’t understand a word from what we’re saying bet a lot of money that he’s faster than your plane.” She points at her boss who smiles unsurely at me.

“I sometimes wonder why the mafia didn’t put you in concrete horseshoes yet,” I say. “Also, tell this wanker that wearing a tailcoat to a semi-formal party is probably some kind of faux pas.”

“I told him, but he didn’t listen.” Wild Hunt rolls her eyes behind the mask. “Also, it’s basically an informal party with you being dressed casually because you’re some kind of peculiarity.” She sighs. “It ain’t the shit I ever wanted to know...”

“We never know what will be useful,” I mutter. “Tell Tyluan that I’ll destroy him.”

Hexie looks into the engine and screws some loose nut tighter. She then examines the casing, looking for any leaks and humming something to herself. Knowing her, probably some hoofball chants.

“You do realise that if you destroy Little Cadance we won’t go any further, right?” Hexie asks.

“Don’t worry,” I say. “Even if it gets damaged, Cherry Berry is on her way.”

“I meant that you might die,” Hexie says. “No one died in Cherry Berry’s planes yet, but I had a friend once. He built a glider with some badass firework as an engine.”

“And what happened to him?” I ask, wiping the windshield.

“Shoveling the remains wasn’t nice,” Hexie says. “But at least everything fit nicely into a flower basket.”

“Well, Little Cadance is sturdier than that.” I sit on the lower wing and look at all the citizens watching us from behind the fence. I’d think that this town got used to weird stuff happening, at least since Trixie is here, but they still stare at us with their mouths open like a Yak peasant at the Trotguska meteor.

A bat pony flies above the crowd and lands next to us. He’s wearing something that seems like grayscale Wonderbolts costume, which, given his unorthodox flying technique, looks pretty weird. Well, that’s how bat ponies fly in general unless they are like Wild Hunt, whose wings were through so much abuse that it’s a mystery how she still flies.

This bat pony has no such problems, so there’s only one possibility of who they are.

“Tyluan!” I exclaim. “Ready to get your ass kicked?”

Tyluan lands next to me and smirks. “So that’s how you look sober...”

“So that’s how you look when I’m sober,” I reply. “I always thought you were taller.”

“Well, I thought you were funnier,” Tyluan replies, looking at Little Cadance. “Is that supposed to be faster than me?”

“Well, she can’t come in three seconds, but she’s a girl, after all.” I pat the wing I’m sitting on.

“Oh, please.” Tyluan rolls his eyes. “You’re scraping the bottom of the barrel here.”

“Just for your information: I can think of seven different ways of beating the crap outta you with a barrel,” I say, standing nose to nose with him. “You’d better watch out.”

“I’d like to see that.” He leans closer to me, so I lick his nose.

“What the fuck?” He jumps back.

Indeed, what the fuck? It’s not like I lick other ponies’ noses; at least not before thinking about it.

Hexie sighs. “Just go and find yourself a room, you two. Like, what exactly is wrong with you?”

“She molested me while drunk,” Tyluan replies, pointing at me.

“He locked me in a coffin,” I say. “Apparently because he couldn’t find a bed.”

“I saved her life.”

“He saved my life,” I mutter. “By telling me to steal a helicopter from Cherry Berry. And that was the first night and morning after we met.”

Hexie rubs her temples. “Sometimes, I feel like jamming a lead pipe into someone’s eye socket till it comes out from the back of their skull and then use it as a lever to break their spine and rip their head off. You two are lucky I’m all out of lead pipes.”

“A propos: how was that guy yesterday?” I ask, really desperate to change the topic.

“Not good,” Hexie replies. “Turns out, by reading poetry, he really meant reading poetry. And I don’t know Ponytuguese.”

“That blows,” I mutter.

“Funny you mention that.” Hexie smirks. “You know, he didn’t write that many poems.”

“That’s a little more than I wanted to know.” I stare at Tyluan who also seems struck by the implications. “Well, mate, we have a race to do, don’t we?”

“Seems like it.” Tyluan looks at the entrance of the airport. It seems like the whole town came here, complete with hayburgers and beer stands, souvenirs, and, the worse of it all, the commentary. Courtesy of two ponies who are possibly the least gifted to do the job.

“Hello, there, my dear friends!” The voice echoes above the airports. “My name is DJ Pon3 and I’m here because when you see an aircraft crashing down in flames, someone has to tell you about how it crashes!”

“And the Great and Powerful Haygyptian Princess Trixie is here to remind you that you can always visit her Funhouse and–”

“Yeah, right.” Vinyl’s chuckle causes the speakers to go into feedback. “Go to Trixie’s saloon, you get a whore and a balloon.”

“Now I know why you’re friends,” Tyluan mutters. “Same intellectual level.”

“Well, I guess we’re no match for that walking knife sharpener called Wild Hunt,” I mutter.

“Yeah.” Hexie grabs a really big monkey wrench. “You’d better watch out, sweetheart...”

I hear an air horn calling. The distant crowd cheers while a little filly with a flag walks to us. Hexie and I take our places in the cockpit while Tyluan stretches his wings. Too bad, I can still hear the commentary.

“So, there are a few things you need to know about bat ponies,” Vinyl says. “Just look at that scoundrel. Teeth, fluff, nice butt... And I bet he eats bugs. Which have, like, a lot of proteins, so his muscle mass...”

“Trixie heard they also eat mangos,” Trixie says. “Which is an impressive feat because one cannot eat a mango and not get dirty, yet they somehow manage to do that. This pleases Trixie.”

“I once stuck a mango in my pussy.” Vinyl is charming as always. Luckily, Hexie turns on the engine, which drowns all the unnecessary noises. I give the throttle lever a nudge and the machine reacts immediately, nearly deafening us.

“This Tyluan...” Hexie mutters, watching the bat pony standing next to us. “Ciacho ale chuj.”

“What?”

“A cutie, but also a... fool,” Hexie replies. “Well, not exactly.”

“I can imagine,” I mutter, watching the filly with the flag. She shivers slightly when she raises it. Good thinking, kid. Don’t get in the way of my propeller, because I’m not in the mood for scraping you off the windshield.

The filly waves the flag and Tyluan takes of. We roll slowly down the airstrip, while the filly runs away.

“He’s already in the air,” Hexie muttered. “And he seems pretty fast.”

“Oh really?” I push the throttle lever forward and pull the stick. We lift slightly above the ground, quickly gaining velocity. Let’s see how Tyluan can handle that... The sky’s the bloody limit, babe! We raise above the clouds, the silhouette of the bat pony before us. We’re supposed to reach some funny-shaped rock and go back to the airport, so there’s a plenty of distance to catch up with him.

The roar of the wind is deafening. You see, when we built it, comfort was the least of our worries, so the whole thing is loud and, to be honest, a bit primitive. Built to last, not to carry your ass around the world comfortably.

The town below us is replaced by the jungle. From my position, it looks like a big, green carpet. Well, with some brown and yellow stains, but still. So, more like a green carpet who belongs to somepony who just got a puppy.

I look forward and see that Tyluan is getting closer to us. I grab the stick tighter, knowing well that I’ll have to overtake him without accidentally cutting him to pieces, or else we’d all be dead. Meanwhile, something in me wants to rub it in his face...

The tip of the plane’s wing misses Tyluan by a metre or so. The turbulence caused by our prop throws him slightly off course. He recovers and chases us, but it’s no use: he’s quite fast, but we’re definitely faster.

Hmm, let’s see what else I can do... The engine’s roaring at the maximal speed, so I move the stick to the left, my hooves jammed on pedals. Slowly, the whole aircraft rolls on its back. Hexie is yelling something – probably swears.

Blood rushes to my head. I finish the barrel roll almost brushing the tops of the trees with our wheels. I pull the stick, staring at the rock in front of us, getting closer and closer.

“Are you fucking out of your mind?” Hexie shouts. “You’re gonna get us fucking killed! This plane isn’t meant to do that!”

Indeed, the wires make a noise as if a pig was rolling in the piano. I hope I didn’t damage something, or else we may lose a wing. That’d mean a rather short flight to a rather definite destination. Which would be bad, since we’re about to reach the funny-shaped rock.

“Good thing Vinyl isn’t here,” Hexie says. “She wouldn’t shut up for days.”

I nod, staring at the small platform at the top of the rock, with two pegasi observing us. I wave at them and circle the rock slowly, keeping in mind that the wings may be weakened by my earlier recklessness.

This is, however, enough for Tyluan to catch up with us. Not to mention that, despite being slower, he’s much more agile and can turn on a dime. Before we head back towards the town, he’s already flapping his wings like crazy, getting smaller and smaller in the blue sky.

I put my hooves on throttle and stick, feeling blood rushing through my veins. Kerosene gets pumped into the engine, throwing us back on our seats. I can see Hexie getting pale as she watches the speedometer and the view behind the windows, which changed into a continuous blur of blue and green. I can’t hear anything over the engine and adrenaline. I don’t even notice the moment when we overtake Tyluan and reach the town.

“Minuette!” Hexie screams, pointing to one of the gauges.

It’s amazing how many things you can process in about half a second.

In that time, I look at the gauge, to realise that the temperature is rising rather quickly. Meanwhile, I realise that white smoke surrounding us is not a cloud, but ethylene glicol coming from the radiator. I also have a brief thought about how I want my remains to be burned, put in a jar, and buried under a small, white stone at the coast near Haycife.

All that in just half a second.

I turn off the engine and feather the propeller. Little Cadance has a good lift and almost no minimal speed, so gliding in it is not really that hard. Besides, it’s not the first time I land it without the engine, so I’m strangely calm about that.

“I’m so not repairing that...” Hexie mutters, watching the ground getting closer. Ponies run away under us while we head to the airport just above the rooftops. Well, shit. We’re too low to make another circle, but too high to land just now. Not to mention that some moron parked an airship there and we nearly brush the balloon with our landing gear.

“Watch out, Hexie, we’ll be coming quickly!” I shout.

“I have enough of that, after yesterday...” Hexie nearly chokes when I suddenly dive towards the ground. I can almost hear the spectators screaming. We scrape some small tower with the tip of our wing, but luckily, it’s stronger than the rachitic construction.

The wheels hit the ground with a loud thud and I feel that I fly forward till my forehead hits the control board. Damn, not this again! I’m thrown back on my seat, realising that the collision with the tower thrown us off-course and we’re now rolling towards the bleachers. Well, at least the gear withstood the rough landing.

Hexie pushes all the brakes we have. Most of the ponies in front of us run away, apart of two: Lyra, who looks like a deer in the headlights of an incoming train and Ruby, who seems like she doesn’t care.

The brakes screech, smoke coming from them. Finally, the tip of the prop stops a few centimetres from Ruby, who looks at it from underneath her eyebrows. Lyra faints.

I suddenly realise that I’m drenched in sweat. My hooves are trembling when I untangle myself from the seatbelts and I nearly fall when I try to stand up.

Interestingly, I can still hear Trixie and Vinyl’s voices coming from the pitiful ruins that used to be a wooden tower next to the bleachers.

“The Great and Powerful Trixie can’t see shit!”

“Then watch out...” Vinyl’s voice shudders. “I got really scared and–”

“Aaargh!”

Somepony opens the door of the plane. I turn back to see Inkie, Daring Do, and Tyluan rushing to us.

“Are you okay, Minuette?” Tyluan asks.

I stand up and walk to the door without saying a word. What the hell happened to me? I almost got us killed! Inkie tries to wipe blood from my forehead, but I push her away. Some guys come to me with a bottle of champagne, but I don’t see them; hell, I just make use of my teleportation skills and hide in the crowd.

I come back to the plane by the evening, after I’m sure my friends stopped looking for me. Or rather, they started to look for me in bars, ditches, and the city morgue. I take a sip from a bottle of beer and grab a few wrenches and a screwdriver. I need to see how much damage lack of coolant did and what the hell happened to the radiator.

Well, at least it seems that there’s no hole in it. The heat, along with me pushing the engine to its limits caused the temperature and pressure of the coolant to raise enough to open the safety valve. The engine doesn’t seem damaged, especially since I turned it off quickly, but I’d better change all the gaskets, if only to keep myself busy.

“I knew you’d be here.”

“Fuck off.” I don’t even bother turning to Tyluan. “I’m busy.”

“Vinyl is trying to contact you with an barrel of vodka and ouija board,” Tyluan says. “You’d better go back to them before she makes friends with Purple Watchmaker of Light or Ponsofay, the elder god of so–”

“Yeah, I get the idea,” I mutter, throwing a spanner on the ground. “But I guess you underestimate Vinyl’s skills. She’d end up screwing those guys in their metaphysical butts with a stainless steel strap-on.”

“That’s quite likely, yeah.” Tyluan nods and looks at me as I sit down, resting against the wheel. “So... What was that?”

“Well, I just kinda realised that I almost got myself, Hexie, and many other ponies killed,” I reply. “Like, it didn’t bother me before, but–”

“I get it.” Tyluan chuckles. “You jumped from your ego on your IQ and realised that it was quite a long way down.”

“Go fuck yourself.”

“But you must admit that your ego is so big it has its own gravity field.” Tyluan shrugs. “How do you think why all those ponies keep hanging out with you?”

“Oh please,” I say. “If something was wrong with my brilliant mind, I wouldn’t be here right now. How do you think, why I survived in the middle of frozen north, with griffons thinking that Equestria attacked them? That’s a classified information, but I guess you know when to shut up.”

“Probably the same way as me when it was just me, Wild Hunt and the whole Manehattan mob against us,” Tyluan replies.

“Manehattan mob?” I roll my eyes. “Please. When I was a journalist, I infiltrated gang of cannibals living there and lived to tell the tale.”

“How about Neighponese gangsters?” Tyluan smirks. “Wild Hunt and I stole a suitcase of diamonds from them once. They sent guys with katanas after us. One of them nearly gelded me.”

“I stole a sword from the heavily-guarded museum.” Well, I’d rather omit that part where Flitter, Cloudchaser, and Blossomforth kicked our flanks. “And it’s good those guys missed. That’d be a pity.”

Tyluan nods. “Yeah, I’ve heard about that... Wait, what?”

I smirk. “Admit it... You’d miss your balls if they ended up in a Neighponese restaurant.”

“Well, kinda.” He blushes. “Just like... anyone, I guess. You want me to feel awkward and go away, right?”

“I can partially agree,” I say with a chuckle. “Let’s say that I don’t want you to go away.”

I can almost hear his thoughts. “Well...” He looks at the ground below his hooves. “You kinda missed the whole celebration after the race...”

“Well, I don’t feel bad for that reason, but if you mention that...” I smirk. “The cockpit isn’t very comfortable, but there’s a plenty of place in the back...”

“And what happened then?”

We had sex and that’s all you need to know, missy. You’re far too young for the details and–

“Hey! I’m almost thirteen!”

Even if you were old enough, Berryshine III, I wouldn’t tell you the details because I don’t remember them after thirty years. Not to mention that–

“Don’t call me Berryshine! My name is–”

I know your name, kid. And don’t you know that it’s rude to interrupt the older ponies? Just ask your mom. Anyway, two weeks later, we were gathering stuff and waiting for Cherry Berry...

Ruby stops by the stall and looks at the gems displayed there. “Rubies,” she mutters. “Can I get a ruby necklace?”

“If you have money...” I reply, staring at a bunch of shovels. I’m not sure if we’ll need them, but it doesn’t hurt to look. It’ll be probably better to buy some in Haygypt anyway.

“Oh, come on.” Ruby rolls her eyes. “It’s my birthday soon.”

“It’s not,” I say. “You were born in January and I remember that well because I had to run to the hospital through the snow to stop your mother from strangling the nurse.”

I’d rather not mention the part when Berry said something about kid’s head ruining her precious cunt. Ruby is screwed up enough without that, not to mention that after my little outburst two weeks ago everyone treats me like a live grenade. I’m planning to get drunk and end up in bed with Vinyl to show them that I’m fine.

“If I, by some freaky accident, end up with a kid one day, I’ll call them Berryshine Corundum.”

“So they don’t have a nice second name to use because the first one sucks?” I ask. “Not that there’s something bad about Berryshine. Berry uses it.”

“I know,” Ruby mutters. “But I don’t wanna be mistaken for my mother, you know.” She shrugs, looking at her cutie mark. “And corundums are quite hard.”

“Aren’t rubies red corundums?” I ask. “Also, I guess your way of parenting may catch on. Or rather, I’m afraid of that.”

“I’d tell you to go fuck yourself, but I’ve heard that bat pony isn’t in town.” Ruby smirks.

“How do you–” Suddenly, I’m interrupted by the noise of engines. A large shadow passes through the market. I look up to see the machine casting it. It looks like a bastard kid of a boat and a plane, with two engines on the wing, which is attached to a pylon protruding from the rest of it. It shines brightly – no wonder since it was painted only recently.

“Let’s go,” I say to Ruby. “Auntie Cherry Berry arrived.”

“Do we go to the airport?” Ruby asks.

“Nah, she already missed it,” I reply. “I think the river is a safe bet.”

We rush through the marketplace. At least the crowd is not an obstacle – most of the ponies are chasing the aircraft anyway. Hell, as soon as we get out of the labyrinth of narrow streets leading to the harbour, I see Trixie, tearing her way through the crowds like a hyperactive icebreaker.

“Make way for Trixie!” she yells. “Flying machines over the town are her thing! If Trixie defeated the Ursa Major, she can handle them too!”

“Tell them that more and one of them will bring Ursa Major to check if that’s true!” I yell to her. She blushes and hides in the crowd.

The flying boat circles over the river, scaring the shit out of a few schmucks in their own, completely non-flying ships. After they run away, she lowers her flight, splashing into the water and getting us all wet. Soon, the aircraft emerges, going slowly towards the pier. The engines stop and somepony from the inside throws us a rope.

I look around and notice Wild Hunt standing nearby. She’s covered in dust which can only be cement. Next to her, there’s some dumbfounded guy with traces of concrete on his hooves.

“Will this ever end?” Wild Hunt asks. “I can’t work because of you.”

The door in the back of the plane opens. Cherry Berry walks out of it and climbs on the pier. She’s wearing a sombrero, shutter shades, and a grenade bandolier full of beer cans. She looks at the ponies standing by the shore and smirks widely.

“Zdravstvuyte, rebyata! Cherry Berry yells.

“Err... Wrong country.” Mjölna steps out of the plane and smiles sheepishly. “We had a short break in Mexicolt, boss. Well, it’d be shorter if we didn’t have to look for Cherry...”

“We?” I ask. “Who else is there?”

“Hello.” The yellow coat and aquamarine mane of the pony emerging from the aircraft is unmistakable. Sunshower Raindrops got her first flight as the second pilot.

Of all the thieves, whores, misfits, small-time criminals, failed engineers, magicians, electricians, crocodile tamers, professional shit-stirrers, asylum runaways, idiots, peasants, beggars, bankers, tankers, wankers, lawyers, sociology graduates, bums, drunkards, orphans, brawlers, bawlers, bastards, hicks, dicks, ticks, and underwater basket weaving specialists I hired, Sunshower Raindrops is probably the most interesting case. For starters, she’s a pegasus, so her fascination with flying machines is rather unusual. Also, she and Derpy are the only ones who had any previous experiences in cargo shipping.

Well, the all-pegasus company they worked for was rather... shady, to say at least. They were notorious for violating workplace safety, often dropping heavy stuff at ponies. Not to mention that the stuff they delivered was sometimes hardly legal: Raindrops eventually resigned after the package she had to deliver to the client’s own hooves mysteriously exploded right after she left.

Well, she failed to see the connection at first, but it was for the best: the cops who caught her had no doubts that she was too dumb to orchestrate it all by herself. When she was released, Derpy brought her to us and the rest is history.

“Okay, so you’re all here,” I say. “It’ll take a while before Inkie and I learn to control Hot Coco, so you’ll stay and help us.”

“Inkie!” Cherry Berry exclaims. “I have a message for her!”

“We’ll meet her soon. After we go to Haygypt, you’ll take Little Cadance and bring Ruby back to Equestria.”

“Wait, what?” Ruby asks. “I’m not going back to Equestria! I want to go to Haygypt with you!”

“It’s too dangerous,” I reply.

“That’s why you’ll need someone intelligent to–”

“Chill out, kid.” Raindrops walks to us. “Equestria might not be Haygypt, but it’s cool too. Like, Dinky misses you...”

“Fuck her. I’m not going!”

“We’ll talk about it later,” I say. “Same with your language. I’m pretty sure it’s time for dinner, right?”

“Right!” Cherry Berry smiles. “Time to eat and fuck bitches. Snowdrop, Mjolna, after me!”

Mjölna rolls her eyes. “It’s ‘Mjölna’, for pony’s sake! I really like that umlaut, y’know.”

“Oh please,” Raindrops sighs. “Do I really look like a blind filly from the legends?”

Cherry Berry turns to her and takes a closer look. Like, really close. She nearly pushes Raindrops to the river. “Kinda,” she says. “Also, that’d explain why you fly like you were blind. Because you are!”

“Fuck you too,” Raindrops mutters.

Cherry Berry nods. “I could use a good stallion.”

I get through the crowd and reach Raindrops before she slams her head against the pavement. “Titanium plate in the skull,” I whisper. “You can’t win.”

“I see,” Raindrops mutters. “Contrary to a popular belief. Can we at least get that diner so I can kill myself by overeating?”

Whoever cooks for Trixie, they do that pretty well and soon, Raindrops gets rid of suicidal thoughts. However, since the beginning of the diner, when Inkie enters the dining room with Daring Do and Vinyl, we’re haunted by bad incidents.

“I got a message for you!” Cherry Berry exclaims. Without any further explanations, she walks to Inkie and smacks her in the face.

“What was that for?” Inkie asks, rubbing her cheek.

“Ms. Coco said that you shouldn’t wrestle any minotaurs!” Cherry Berry smiles proudly. “But she has another message for you...” She winces and leans closer to Inkie. She then embraces her and kisses her passionately. Vinyl raises her sunglasses, barely noticing that she started to drool.

Then, as abruptly as before, Cherry Berry breaks out the kiss, jumps back and spits on the floor. “Someone has vodka?” she asks. “I need disinfection.”

“Have this.” Vinyl levitates a hip flask.

“Thanks, PVC,” Cherry Berry says. “Hey, you’re bleeding!”

“Where?” Vinyl looks between her hind legs. “I knew you can’t trust cucum– Wait, it’s not that...”

“Your nose,” Lyra says. “Like in those–”

“Oh please.” Daring Do rolls her eyes. “Lyra, don’t remind me about your comics! I spent two weeks in an intermodal container with nothing but them to read.” She shudders. “And you know I react badly to tentacles because... well, reasons. And can we, please, get back to our plans?”

“Trixie’s plans are simple,” Trixie says. “She’ll go to Haygypt with you and spent some lovely time on the beach.”

“How about your business here?” I ask, seeing that Daring Do is rolling her eyes.

“Trixie already told Paco to tell ponies that Trixie is the daughter of the sultan and one of his mistresses, who ran away from the harem and now has to go back to reclaim her treasure.”

“Haygypt. Has. No. Sultan.” Daring Do whispers, punctuating each word with banging her head against the table.

“Calm your crotchboobs, Daring,” Vinyl says, patting Daring Do’s mane. “It’s not like anyone here knows it. Like, I’m pretty sure some ponies here still think it has a pharaoh or something...”

“I’m calm.” Daring Do is indeed calm, though it’s that kind of calm that happens when you want to blow up something big, but instead of the kaboom there’s silence. And you know that somepony will have to go there to check what went wrong and disarm the whole thing before trying one more time.

Well, in this case, Vinyl volunteered.

“So, if you’re calm, just sit back and eat your tomatoes,” Vinyl says. “We’re going to Haygypt. That’s the most important.”

“This spoon will soon find its way to your eye socket,” Daring Do says calmly. “And then I’ll turn it till you’re deader than those tomatoes.” She smirks. “Is that clear?”

“Totally. Yes.” Vinyl backs off and takes her seat. We spend the rest of the diner in silence.

After eating, Hexie puts her spoon on the table and gulps the remains of her drink. “Can I go with Mjölna to the plane? I’d like to see it…”

“Sure,” I reply, standing up and looking at Daring Do. “The atmosphere here doesn’t exactly encourage free thinking.”

“I’ll go with you,” Vinyl mutters. “I know that to think freely one has to think in general, but I just need a cigarette.”

I look at her and roll my eyes. “No smoking on the plane. It can land on water, but it doesn’t mean that it’s fireproof.”

Vinyl sighs. “Yeah. I’ve learned this the hard way after I went for a cig next to that shed in the backyard which was full of fireworks.” She puts her chair in its place and walks out of the dining room.

Trixie chokes on a pinecone. She coughs for a while before Inkie slams her in the back. “Wait…” Trixie whispers. “What did that brute do to Trixie’s shed?”

I’ll save you, dear kids, the tale of our struggles with the new plane. It took us a while to get used to it, even though it was quite easy to pilot. It was nothing interesting, and since I’m going to tell you how this thing flew, that’d be even more boring and kinda redundant. Besides, I need a drink.

Where was I, then? Oh yeah, after Inkie and I felt confident enough to try flying Hot Coco to Haygypt, we had a little goodbye party. It was kinda sappy and I couldn’t drink since we were going to get out of Maneaus on the following day. We escorted Cherry Berry to the airport, made sure Ruby went there with them and came back to the hotel…

I trot up the stairs and walk down the corridor, when suddenly I notice something. The door to my room is slightly ajar and I remember locking it. Slowly, I walk to it, preparing my favourite spell. If the intruder is male, they’re never gonna have foals.

Sneaking by the wall, I wonder who could it be. Dr. Caballeron and his merry company didn’t show up since we left them in the jungle. Maybe they drowned, after all? Or maybe some creepy shit crawled out of the forest and ate them?

Well, they may as well be in my room. A few centimetres from the door, I bust them open and rush inside, my horn ready. I haven’t beaten anyone in a long time so…

“Freeze, motherfu–” I pause mid-jump, staring at my bed. Not only did I just catch Ruby Pinch in my room, even though she was supposed to be on a plane going to Equestria. I also caught her in a rather compromising position.

In other words, she’s humping her sleeping bag like there’s no tomorrow.

“Umm…” I say. Nothing else comes to my mind, so I try to put as much meaning in it as possible.

“Can you come back in a few minutes?” Ruby asks. “I’m figuring something out.”

“Once you do, be sure to wash your sleeping bag,” I say. “Though when I was your age, mom didn’t let me anywhere near the washing machine, for precisely the same reason.”

“I don’t get it,” Ruby mutters, giving her sleeping bag a look.

“You will,” I reply. “But anyway, why are you still here? I know Cherry Berry can be forgetful and I don’t really have high hopes about Raindrops, but at least Mjölna should’ve remembered about delivering you, bound and gagged, to your mother.”

“You forgot about one little detail,” Ruby replies. “I don’t have a passport.”

Celestia, give me patience, but not strength, or else I’ll strangle her. Of course, she doesn’t have a passport. And of course, this time they had no Daring Do to help them out.

“Auntie Cherry Berry tried to offer sexual favours to the customs officer,” Ruby says. “But I eventually said that I’ll just stay with you and she agreed.”

I sigh, using all my will to stop myself from trying some nasty spell on her. “You forgot about one thing… You can’t go to Haygypt without your passport.”

Ruby levitates something from the inside of her sleeping bag. “Auntie Cherry Berry brought it with her, but dropped it in front of the airport. When I found it, it was too late…”

Time for a disciplinary action. I levitate a hairbrush and walk to Ruby with it. “You’ll fly to Haygypt on your own when I smack you…”

“You’d never do that,” Ruby says, backpedalling.

“No, but remember that one day I may.” I use the brush to straighten her mane. “Also, we’re going to the port. There must be some ship going to Equestria.”

The door opens and Daring Do walks in. “What is she doing here?” she asks, looking at Ruby.

“Long story short, she screwed everyone over,” I reply.

“Good.” Daring Do walks to Ruby and pats her mane with her wing. “She’s going with us.”

“What?” I ask. “Why?”

Daring Do stands straight. “Sometimes, we need someone who can screw other ponies over. Right, kid?”

Ruby hops from my bed. “Yay!” She jumps, turning around in mid-air and walks out with Daring.

I sit on my bed. Well, at first I sit on something wet and realise that Ruby left her sleeping bag here. Eww! I toss it away.

The door opens again and Inkie walks inside. I must have a really weird expression, because her eyes immediately widen. “What happened?”

“Can I screw other ponies over?” I ask.

“My mom wouldn’t approve that,” Inkie replies. “Also, I’m pretty sure it’s banned by law… And most of the moral codes–”

I sigh. “I meant, am I able to do that?”

“Yes.”

“That’s what I wanted to hear, Inkie.”

“Though I have a feeling that you got softer recently…” Inkie blushes. “Not that it’s a bad thing.”

“Fuck.”

Finally, we leave Maneaus.

What I like about Hot Coco is that she doesn’t need to be refueled as often as Little Cadance. It also flies smoother—though not as smooth as the golden condor—and is much less tiring to work with the rudders. It can also land on water, even though I’d rather not try it on the sea below, due to high waves. But in case you have no water around, the retractable gear allows you to land almost anywhere.

The views quickly change. Green of the jungle is replaced by the grey and blue sea. The weather is sunny, with only a few clouds.

Inkie is sitting by my side, looking at the controls. She hums something to herself, but I can’t hear it over the engines and the noise from the back. It seems that Vinyl got her hooves on a guitar.

When I was a young mare, I carried me pack…

Oh, hell. She did.

“Hexie, tell her to shut up,” I mutter.

“Isn’t it that song you always cry to?” Inkie asks.

... we sailed off for Gallipony…

“Not ‘always’, but only when I’m drunk,” I reply. “Hexie, tell her that if she doesn’t stop, I’ll do a barrell roll.”

Hexie walks to the back of the plane. “Play something happy, or else Minuette will kill us all!” she yells.

“The Great and Powerful Trixie demands you to play that song about ten little foals!”

“How about the one about a dragon and twin fillies?” Vinyl asks. I hear a few upbeat guitar chords.

“I still don’t get it,” I say to Inkie. “Why did Daring want to take Ruby with us?”

“Maybe when she saw her, she saw herself in her younger years?” Inkie asks.

“No way,” I mutter. “She wanted to piss us off, because our antics piss her off. So now, when Ruby pulled such a stunt, she insists on taking her with us.”

“And have her mission ruined if Ruby does something bad?” Inkie shrugs. “She has some deeper purpose in this.”

Bad? Ruby does bad things for breakfast. In Haygypt, she’ll start a war. “What can be the purpose of taking a little brat on what’s apparently an important mission?” To stop myself from thinking about that, I turn on the radio, listening to the ship navigators below us. A chatter in at least five languages fills my ears.

Lyra walks to us and looks through the window. “Have you ever wondered why cats think we exist to serve them?”

“I never had a cat,” I reply absentmindedly. “Maybe you happen to know what’s going on with Daring? Why is Ruby still with us, instead of a ship to Baltimare?”

“Oh, it’s simple,” Lyra replies. “You know, her editor said that she’ll need a character who’d appeal to kids.”

I nearly slam my head against the control board. “We have to deal with her because of a fucking plot device? Is she out of her mind?”

“Well, she kinda is…” Lyra is sweating visibly, looking at the back of the plane. “But she almost lost it when she heard about that crystal…”

“Inkie, dear, hold the rudder for me, please,” I say before turning back to Lyra. “So, there’s a crystal, right?”

“Umm…” Lyra backs off. Unfortunately for her, the cockpit isn’t very spacious, so there’s only wall behind her. “There’s that silver plate with the hieroglyphs…”

I stand up and walk to her, pushing her against the wall. “But at the very end of the road, there’s a crystal, right?”

“Right.” Lyra sighs.

“Is it expensive?”

“L-like hell,” Lyra mutters.

“What does this crystal do?” I ask.

“I don’t know!” Lyra exclaims. “Well, there’s a certain theory Daring has, but we can’t check it until we find it.”

“Is this thing dangerous?” I think for a while. “Well, it must be since those guys are looking for it too. Am I right?”

“P-possibly…” Lyra squeaks.

“Does it require sacrificing a foal in order to work?”

Lyra looks around nervously. “Well, I can neither confirm nor– wait, what? What are you suggesting?”

“I suggest we put Daring in some comfortable nuthouse once we’re on the ground,” I reply. “The warm climate should soothe her nerves.” I release Lyra and go back to my seat.

“So, what are we gonna do?” Inkie asks after Lyra runs away from the cockpit.

“We’ll observe carefully,” I reply, turning slightly left. I’d rather avoid the place which is labelled “Dragon’s Lair” on the map, you know. Like, a dragon can wake up and eat us or, worse, try to mate with our plane. History knows such cases.

Luckily, there are no dragons around this time and when a few days later we land on Casaflanca to refuel, we kinda miss the ground. Even Hexie, who usually prefers to stay inside, repairing small things and drinking, walks out with us.

“Hey, look!” Vinyl exclaims when we load barrels of fuel on a cart. “It’s those certified dragon slayers we met in Brayzil!” She waves at the certified virgin, who blushes, seeing her.

“Hello,” I say, trotting to the guy with an eyepatch. “What are you up to?”

“We’re travelling south, to fight dragons,” he replies. “How about you?”

“Small business in Haygypt,” I say.

“Oh…” He looks at me carefully. “Good luck then.”

“Good luck to you too.” I walk away to the cart.

We didn’t spend much time in Casaflanca, despite Vinyl’s attempts to convince us to stay for night in the port and sing songs together. Daring and I didn’t budge, even when Vinyl offered to play our favourite songs. And then when she said that she’d play them again.

In spite of that, we went back to the plane and shortly before dinner on the next day, we were in Hayiro. After circling above the town for a while, we chose the simplest solution and landed in the river, much to the bedazzlement of the ponies in town.

Well, “ponies” isn’t exactly a precise term. As soon as we get out of the plane, we’re surrounded by a bunch of camels, trying to sell us something. Well, I think one of them is trying to buy Ruby, but she kicks him in the leg. A pair of Saddle Arabians walks by, probably having a deep and meaningful conversation. Dunno, I don’t know Saddle Arabian.

“Where can I buy that towel they’re wearing on their heads?” Vinyl asks.

“It’s called ‘turban’,” I reply. “And you already have a sombrero.”

“The sombrero is from Mexicolt, now I need something from here,” Vinyl replies, trotting to a stand stacked with colourful fabric. “Err...“ She raises her hoof. “Salami alley cum… or something. Umm…” Before she can come up with more broken Saddle Arabic, the camel grabs a piece of blue silk and wraps it around her in such a way that it covers her mane – an impressive feat, if you ask me.

“That’s not what I wanted,” Vinyl mutters.

“It’s a hijab and he wants you to pay him twenty bits for it,” Daring Do walks to Vinyl. She then says something to the camel who started a long, loud speech.

“What?” Vinyl asks, looking at Daring unsurely.

“I told him that you can pay ten and he’s now telling me a story of his starving family.”

Vinyl grabs her wallet. “I can pay him twenty…”

“He’d get offended and his family is definitely not starving,” Daring Do replies. “It’s a local habit. Give him fifteen bits and you’re set.”

Vinyl pays and we walk down the street. I look around – small houses made of clay are almost invisible, completely obscured by the crowd. It’s pretty hot – soon everyone will hide from the sun in the cool interiors of local cafes.

Suddenly, among the crowd consisting mostly of various shades of grey, brown, and yellow, I notice a white and blonde spot. Damn. One can’t even go to the other side of the planet without meeting someone familiar.

“Aryanne!” I exclaim. “Long time no see.”

The pony turns to me. Dammit. When I was seeing only her back, I couldn’t, of course, notice her green eyes and I assumed that the red bow in her mane was a fashion choice. But I somehow missed a pair of pegasus wings and a cutie mark consisting of a black cross surrounded by four pink hearts.

“Was?” she asks. “Wer sind Sie?”

Damn, how is ‘resemble’ in Pferdisch? I could use that word right now.

“Kyrie!” A stallion’s voice tears the air. A tall, white unicorn walks to us and says something in Pferdisch quickly. Kyrie gives me a panicked look before replying to him. He apparently doesn’t want to listen, as he cuts her off quickly.

“Jawohl, Herr Kloppenführer!” Kyrie salutes and flies away. The unicorn disappears as quickly as he appeared earlier.

“Did you recognise him?” Inkie asks, looking into the sky.

“Of course,” I reply. “We played poker in Maneaus. I wonder what he’s doing here...”

“I don’t know, but I’d let that girl whip me and yell curses in Pferdisch all night long,” Vinyl says. “I wonder if she and Aryanne are twins.”

“I guess they come from the same rack of test tubes in some eugenics research institute,” I reply.

“No way, they had separate racks for earth ponies, unicorns, and pegasi.” Hexie looks around nervously seeing our stares. “I mean… Did you hear what they said to each other?”

“Not really, they were talking inconveniently fast,” I say. “Will you enlighten us?”

“Well, he asked her why she was talking with that Fotze.” Hexie furrows her eyebrows, looking for the right word. “Cunt. I guess he meant you, boss.”

“Oh, really? Go on.”

“She said something about you surprising her, but he told her to fuck off and go back to the hideout,” Hexie replies. “That’s all.”

“I’d like to know what they’re up to…” Daring Do mutters.

“Well, Trixie would like to know what are those guys up to…”

When I look in the direction Trixie is pointing at, I see yet another two friends from Maneaus: no one else but Dr. Caballeron himself, assisted by his somewhat flamboyant henchpony, Withers.

“How did they learn we were here?” Inkie asks. “And how did they get here before us?”

Daring Do sighs. “Well, we wasted enough time for them to come here by ship,” she replies, giving Trixie a heavy glare. “As for the first question… If I recall correctly, somepony told the whole town about her life as a Haygyptian princess…”

Trixie gulps, sweating heavily.