With enough food for three people and more than a few hours to sit back and recover, Hank’s body had settled into a level of soreness that was ignorable to the man. With the large increase in healing rate, and the massive increase of nutritional input that it required, the human had found that besides healing wounds the buff had also made recovery time for a workout near zero.

Where before, a hugely hard workout like he had done today would result in soreness, stiffness, and weakness that could last a week to go away, now all he had to do was eat five pounds of food and he was ready to go again. In essence he could go all out, wait an hour to recover, and repeat over and over until he became too exhausted or just sick of it. He could hit any muscle group he wanted, repeatedly. The doors that Hank was figuring out were open to him greatly excited him.

One massive glaring issue that came from his new biological system was that absolutely nothing fit anymore. Besides growing taller and broader over the years, there was a new issue at play and that was that the pump that his muscles had experienced from the gym had not yet gone away. Over five hours since he last lifted!

As if his general increase in size wasn’t enough, now he had pumped up muscles to try and work around. Not just that, but also, that he wanted to wear something relatively nice for he and Zecora’s “first date”.

The options were already slim on clothes that fit, let alone ones that fit and looked good. So far the man had already written off everything he wore on a regular basis since they were all covered in tears and various stains from oil to blood. He had already gone through one tote he had in the “shed” part of his cabin, yielding plenty of good shirts and pants, just none that fit.

The only totes he had left were the ones he had taken from his childhood home when he had decided to leave and move his cabin to a more secluded, not so familiar, place those near five years ago. Just looking at the four dark blue totes shoved to the back part of the shed was enough to make the man’s brain start to flash and his hands start to shake.

Closing his eyes and clenching his hands until each knuckle popped the human sucked in a deep breath before opening his eyes and taking a step forward towards the totes.

It was no small task to uncover the boxes full of sentimentals. Having to move a shelf full of car and motorcycle parts, a few chain saws, his welder, and more than a few five gallon jugs of kerosine, the man just barely opened a big enough path to get back to the totes and get them out.

Quickly setting to it, not wanting to waste the time he had as Zecora got ready inside, the man opened the first totes open only to slam the top back on once he saw it was the one full of pictures.

“Not goin’ through that today.” Hank grimaced, pushing the tote as far away as he could and moving to the next. Top popping of easily Hank gave it a few shakes to knock the buildup of dust off the top before looking inside and seeing full of dvds and the entirety of his dad’s cd collection along with the old vcr / dvd player and the little shitty radio his dad kept in the garage.

Not able to help himself, the man grabbed the gray box with RCA on the top and set it on his work bench with a laugh, giving it a few pats as he turned around and moved to open the next tote.

Popping the top off with no amount of caution and tossing it aside the man sighed once he found what he was looking for and started pulling items out. Taking out a few pairs of folded up blue jeans before getting to the shirts and flannels the man threw all the clothes aside when he saw the gold of his grandpa’s favorite belt buckle.

Pulling the large brown leather belt out along with the buckle the man wiped the buckle off making the gold and the silver inlay of a cowboy holding onto a horse with one hand and his other above his head as it bucked with its hind legs shine while also knocking the dust of the few stones of turquoise.

It was a rodeo buckle he had gotten out West in the early 90’s long before Hank had begun being. The man had worn the buckle every wedding, funeral, party, or reunion since he had initially got it however. If the old man had to dress up for anything, the belt buckle was always there on his belt.

Hank remembered asking his grandpa why he always made sure to wear it when he dressed up and the laugh it got from the man before the answer came, “With how much I spent on the fuckin’ thing I can’t afford not too!” Which of course prompted Hank to ask how much which got another laugh from his grandpa before he eventually answered: “ Nine fifty.”

Still shocked at how much his usually frugal grandpa spent on a simple belt buckle the man turned it over in his hand and saw 18K and .999 stamped on the top lip just above another stamping that said NM turquoise.

“Guess that explains it.”

Setting the chunk of gold and silver next to the tote, Hank dug deeper finding his grandpa’s best red flannel and even more exciting, his gun belt and holster that matched the polished nickel .44 hiding in the gun closet.

Holding up the gun belt and smiling to himself he set it aside and pulled up one of the thin red flannels that came from the tote trying to judge if it would fit over his large frame or not, he really didn’t want to rip one of his grandfather’s dress shirts.

The only real way to try a shirt on being to put it on Hank did just that and surprisingly was able to get it on without blowing it apart. Then again it was no mystery that Hank had gotten his overall build and height from his grandpa who even in his old age was six foot seven and widely built.

That being said the shirt was tight around the shoulders, arms, and chest, there would be no way he could button it all the way up, but at least it was clean, tear free, and covered the white undershirt he had on enough to hide the stains even if he could only get the bottom three buttons to connect.

Pants next, Hank slipped them on, and after a little struggling past his hamstrings found they fit rather well all considered. He was lucky that his grandpa happened to be a large man as well because even though the forty inch waist was way too big that could be fixed with a belt while if the pant legs were too small there would be no fitting in them.

Tucking his shirt in, which was easy since it was so long even on his six four frame, Hank then put on the belt and famed buckle, snugging it way past the holes his grandpa had ever used.

Nearly all done up Hank then bent over and reached for his regular old boots but stopped when he looked at the round pointed cowboy boots neatly laid out in the tote just how Hank had packed them when he had left his home.

Seeing as he was already that far in, Hank decided to just go ahead and round out the whole look and picked up the right boot, checking its size on the underside of his foot. While it was a good size bigger, it was close enough that it wouldn’t matter, it wasn’t like he was going to be running a marathon in them anyway.

With both boots slipped on and everything else in place Hank walked his way over to the drivers side mirror of the humvee and did his best to get a good look at himself in the outfit which only caused the man to start laughing at his get up.

He looked like he was getting ready for a square dance. Done up like a cowboy from head to toe when the only thing he had in common with cowboys was his affinity for wheel guns. He didn’t ride horses, hell, he didn’t even ride fence. He didn’t rope cattle, and he sure as hell never rode bulls. But then again neither did his grandfather.

His grandfather may have been a six foot seven bear of a man with a strong scottish accent but he absolutely loved the west and cowboys, as such the first thing he had bought when he got off the boat in America was a snub nosed .357 revolver that had most certainly been stolen from a police officer somewhere in New York.

So even though his grandpa, in essence, had been a Scotsman posing as a cowboy his entire life there was also no one willing to say anything to the huge man, even when he went to rodeo after rodeo.

Hank figured it’d be much the same for him in his current situation. He very much doubted he’d catch much, or any, flak for his choice of dress. Not like he’d give a damn if he did anyhow. It wasn’t like any of them wore clothes in the first place.

One last chuckle escaping his lips as he moved away from the mirror Hank grabbed the gun belt and started putting it on as he headed for the door to the small home to see how Zecora was getting along

Stepping inside and seeing that she was still at the mirror in that bathroom Hank went for the gun cabinet to fetch that very special pistol he had hid for the last near half decade.

“How’s you gettin’ along hun.” Hank spoke loud enough to Zecora to hear as he pulled the small wooden box from the near of the overflowing cabinet.

“Good… just have to get this last earring settled.” She replied, “Thank you so much for going and getting them from my old house.”

“No problem.” Hank said with a smile as he pulled the oily rag from the box before setting it down, “Need any help getting your ear ring in?”

“Oh no….. I got it in. I just have to wait for it to stop bleeding.”

“Bleeding?” Hank turned his attention from the .44 in his hands and looked to the bathroom door with concern.

“It should be much longer, don’t worry.” Zecora replied, completely missing his actual point of concern.

“I’m not worried about how long it takes. Why are you bleeding?”

“I haven't worn earrings in a long time, the spot in my ear closed up. You know how it goes.”

Shaking his head a little the man grimaced as he loaded five rounds into the old .44 and set the empty cylinder under the hammer, “Not really no. I usually plug the holes whenever I get one that I wasn’t born with. Don’t usually add any.”

Sink running for a second, Zecpra then spoke, “Difference in philosophy.”

Prompting a laugh from the man as he filled the eighteen empty bullet loops on the left side of the belt he then set the box of .44 down and snapped the leather strap across the back of the revolver and headed for the bathroom door.

“So you just shoved the earring through or?”

“No-” It was Zecora’s turn to laugh, “I used one of the bigger needles from the cabinet.”

Raising his brow at that, Hank then rounded the corner and instantly stopped, just staring at Zecora, admiring the makeup and jewelry she had put on.

Hearing him walk up on her Zecora turned to look at Hank and found herself locked into a stare as she ogled him bottom to top. “Wow.” She finally stuttered out.

“I could say the same to you.” Hank smiled, making her smile as well, “Do you like it?”

“You look absolutely amazing.” Zecora confirmed, “You must get more like that from Rarity.”

“Like the cowboy look huh?” Hank questioned.

“If that’s what that is then yes. I love it.” The zebra nodded and approached the man before hopping up on her hind legs and putting her front on his thighs.

Usually a sign that she wanted a kiss and that Hank needed to lift her up the man paused when he saw that instead of looking up at him expectantly she was looking very closely at his belt buckle.

“What is it?”

“So that’s what ponies looked like on your world.” She eventually spoke.

“That’s what horses looked like.” He corrected, smirking.

“And you rode them?” She asked with amusement in her tone.

“That among many things, yes.” Hank admitted.

“And you’re gonna go out in public wearing that?” She then looked up to him with a smirk.

“Yeah? What’s the big deal?”

“Well just that your belt buckle has a human riding a “horse” that has a saddle and a bridle on.” Zecora explained still to an oblivious Hank.

“Just explain your weird horse bullshit already.” Hank sighed knowing where it was going, making Zecora loudly laugh.

“A saddle and bridle are about as serious as bondage gets for ponies.” Zecora said, cutting to the chase.

“And you know this how?” Hank chuckled, getting an eye roll from the zebra.

“By wearing that you’re advertising that you “tame” ponies or, whorses. It doesn’t help that you’re wearing it right above your crotch and at near eye level for most ponies.”

“Stop it with the added ‘W’, and the term is breaking, not taming.”

“W- huh - What?” The comment instantly put Zecora on her back hoof.

Catching her sudden surprise the man decided to capitalize on it and tease her some, “Humans break horses. It’s different than taming a dog or somethin’.”

Looking between his belt buckle Zecora was somewhat taken aback by the admission, “Do humans have a long history of taming horses.” She asked, avoiding the word in question.

“Tens of thousands of years.” The man grinned seeing her getting progressively more flustered, “We’re real good at it.”

“I - I see.”

Reaching over his zebra companion and grabbing a single square of toilet paper and folding it up a few times he then gently used it to soak up the single droplet of blood that was slowly forming where she had pierced her own ear.

“Want me to do that to you?” Hank asked in a low voice as he held the paper to her ear.

A gasp escaped Zecora’s mouth at the question and a shiver rushed down her spine, ending at her tail which slowly started to raise.

Watching the fur on her spine rise along with her tail the man couldn’t help but chuckle as he pulled the piece of bloodied toilet paper away from her ear, “Oh you like that idea don’t ya?”

Clearing her throat while looking up at the human with wide eyes, Zecroa did her best to get ahold of herself and get her heart to come out of her throat, “Y - You can’t just ask a mare something like that!”

“Why not?” Hank laughed, throwing the bloodied piece of paper away and grabbing a few more clean ones, “Pretty obvious you liked it.”

“Still!” Zecora cried, smoothing her fur back out.

“Oh whatever,” the man waved off, putting the folded up clean pieces of toilet paper in his front shirt pocket, “I’ve worked with leather plenty before. I’m sure I could make you bridle and a sad-”

“Honey. Stop.” Zecora said forcefully, her tail back up in the air and her face flush as red as a tomato.

“Fine.” The man smirked, “But when we get back home, clear your schedule.”

Breathing heavily, Zecora nodded knowing what was coming and that she wouldn't be getting anything that she wanted to do tomorrow finished, or even started for that matter.

“Just… wait until after dinner to tease me, okay? I want to just focus on that instead of… other things.” The mare said, doing her best to get her fur stuck back down.

“Sure thing.” Hank smiled, “Now. Are you ready to go?”

“Yes.” Zecora smiled back with a calming breath as they headed for the door, Hank quickly swiping one of his Buck knives from the counter top on the way out.

Stood facing four indignant Minotuars, three males, one of which was considerably larger than the other two, and one female was three on duty guards, one off duty guard, and a medical attache that was there for no other reason that the fact that her and the off duty guard were on a date.

“Figures these stupid bucks show up on couples night.” Iron huffed, looking away from the angry minotaurs and to Redheart as they approached the three other guards who were talking, or trying to talk, with the small group.

“There’s still plenty of time, Iron.” Redheart smiled gently at the peeved stallion.

“Still.” He shook his head after giving another glance at the four minotaurs again, “On the first date no doubt.”

“Oh, it’ll make it interesting!” Redheart laughed bumping into the stallion playfully, not getting much movement from the stallion for her efforts.

“I’m sure it’ll be plenty damn interesting.” The stallion groaned as they came up on the other three ponies, “Alright what’s all this then?” Iron voiced with authority making the three other ponies turn to see who was approaching and the four minotaurs to turn their attention to him.

“Ironhoof.” Clover nodded

“Captain Clover.” Ironhoof nodded back, getting a sideways look from the stallion.

“I told you not to rank me Ironhoof.” Clover remembered as the gruff stallion raised a hoof and waved him off.

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Now what do these four grumpy shits want?”

Ignoring the look that three of the minotaurs gave him, Ironhoof looked at Clover who sighed and rubbed his face out of stress.

“The big one and tattooed one want to fight Hank.” Clover eventually groaned, “And they’re going around town yelling at everypony to tell them where he is.”

Hearing the words that Clover spoke, Iron looked at the two minotaurs in question, first the big one, that was maybe even taller than Hank, and definitely more broad, and then the smaller but meaner looking one with all the tattoos and the crooked muzzle.

Looking right back at the death glare the mean looking bull was giving him, Ironhoof started to laugh gently at first before it evolved into a full on belly laugh as he looked from different members of his party and the one they were facing off with.

So confused at what the pony had found so funny the minotaurs took to looking between each other for any answers to the sudden outburst of laughter. Finding none in their own ranks the minotaurs looked back at the still laughing pony as his laughter started to subside and noticed that the comparatively smaller white mare was even snickering at them with her hoof covering her mouth.

“What’s so funny!? The tattooed bull yelled, getting even more aggravated.

Laughter still slipping from his lips occasionally, Iron ran a hoof over his mane to put it back in place, “You do not want to fight Hank.” The gray stallion said, an air of seriousness seeping into his tone.

“Don’t tell me what I do and don’t want pony.” The tattooed minotaur barked.

Face going flat at the words and the bull’s way of conducting himself it was Iron’s turn to sigh, “Look, I’m just gonna tell you this one more time. You. Don’t. Want. To. Fight. Hank.”

The stallion’s tone and face a new level of foreboding the minotaurs had a moment of pause before the single female of the group spoke up, “And why in the Tartarus not? Just cause he scares you ponies don’t mean he scares us.”

Slowly turning his head to look at the heifer, Iron looked right into her, “He killed a hundred and nine diamond dogs by himself, with his teeth and hands. He would walk through each and every one of you like wet paper.”

“Don’t lie you old coot.” She shot back.

Iron didn’t even respond to her words, he just shrugged, “Have any of you four killed somepony before?”

His question took both groups by surprise. The tattooed minotaur however, didn’t react besides a laugh, “Plenty.”

“Good.” Ironhoof laughed back, “Cause Hank isn't a fighter, he’s a killer. As cold and brutal as I have ever seen in all of my years through conflict zones and wars.” Iron looked at each and every one of them, making sure they looked back, “You’ll be lucky if he just breaks a few bones because that means he actually decided to fight you. If he’s not in the mood and you pressure him he’ll kill you right where you stand and I’ll have to send my colts out to scrape you off the bucking pavement.”

“Stop trying to scare.” The big one finally spoke in a deep booming voice, “Tell us where to find flat faced bald ape.”

About to speak again Clover motioned to Iron stopping the stallion.

“The royal guard will under no circumstances divulge a citizen’s personal details, including but not limited to addresses, place of work, appearance, or last known location.” Clover spoke just as written in the handbook, getting a raised eyebrow from every pony in attendance.

“Did you memorize the entire handbook?” Bolt asked Clover, making him look away from the large minotaur.

“Y-yes. We were told to.” Clover defended.

“Yeah, but…. Nopony actually did.” Bolt explained before turning to Ironhoof, “Did you? Way back in the day.”

“Tartarus no. I was too busy chasing tail in Canterlot.” Iron laughed, getting a smack on the neck from Redheart.

“What?” He turned to the red headed mare rubbing his neck who was smiling at him and shaking her head, “What do you think I’m doing right now with you?”

Gasping at his crude words Redheart hit him again, and turned, hitting him across the face with her tail before walking away.

Lingering on Redheart’s backside for a moment Ironhoof eventually turned to his coworkers and gave a shrug with a short laugh and started following after Red, “I got more important things to attend to colts, I’ll leave you three to deal with this circus act.”

Giving their goodbyes to the old guard they all turned back to address the minotaurs before Iron called out again, yelling from across the street.

“Hey Captain Clover!”

“What!?” Clover yelled back, still annoyed about the stallion’s unwillingness to address him casually.

“The mortician is out of town for the week! If Hank ends up wasting those four idiots you’ll have to process the death certificates yourself!”

“Yeah- Got it! Thanks!” Clover huffed in an even worse mood than before.

“That is if their bodies are even found! They might just end up going missing! Then you’d have to file a missing po-”

“I got it, Iron!” Clover yelled back, “Enjoy your date and get out of here!”

Saluting the captain, Iron just smiled and trotted off alongside Redheart.

“He is one ornery old stallion isn’t he?” Mistral spoke up for the first time, facing Bolt who just whistled and nodded in response.

Groaning at the whole situation Clover hung his head for a second before slowly bringing it back up to the party of minotaurs, “Look.” He began with a flat tone, “None of us are going to tell you where Hank lives and if you keep disturbing the peace I will be forced to charge you with such and keep you in the jail until Monday when we can process you out.”

Doing his best to remain professional Clover kept his tone neutral and adjusted his helmet that fit a little loose after he had his mane cut, “I suggest you drop the desire to find and fight Hank and instead enjoy our quaint little town. Tonight is couples night and all the bars and restaurants are open and would be happy to have you.”

Stretching the truth a little thin at the end there Clover still hoped that he could defuse the situation to a peaceful resolution and that the minotaurs would just move on out of town without bothering anpony else. Though he knew better than to be that hopeful and when the lead bull, the one with all the tattoos, opened his mouth he knew it wasn’t going to be what he wanted to hear.

“I suggest you get out of our way, pony.” He snarled, “And stop protecting the flat faced monkey that killed my cousin. Or things could get messy for your quaint little town.”

Taking note of the overt threat of violence on not just him as a guard, but the town as a whole, Clover started racking up charges in his mind to hit the ill-tempered minotaur as his patience waned ever thinner.

“I’m not protecting him from you. I’m protecting you from him.” Clover narrowed his eyes at the minotaurs as the lead bull visibly grew more irritated along with the large bull and the heifer, the other male taking a passive role just standing back seemingly having doubts about their plans after hearing about Hank.

“You ponies are all the same. Cowardly, weak, pathetic, wastes of space. You have no place telling us what to do.”

“Is that why we have to send your stupid flanks tons of food every year?” Bolt piped up, his big mouth getting the best of him. “Maybe if you focused on, oh I dunno, growing food instead of looking tough with shitty tattoos you could be “wastes of space” as well.” Bolt made air quotes with his wings and growled.

“What did you just say to me brittle bones!?”

“You heard me shit bag.” Bolt yelled back.

The situation clearly devolving to a unrecoverable point guards that were just out patrolling had heard the commotion and had started to post up around the area as other Ponyville residents started to observe the situation as well, occasionally glazing over to the four minotaurs and three guards in front of the bar.

About to charge the four with disorderly conduct and disturbing the peace both parties stopped yelling as a low rumble started to grow in volume coming from the side of town that faced the Everfree and the road that led to the Apple’s orchard.

While they couldn’t see that side of town down the street they were with the height of the buildings around Clover instantly knew what the sound was and who it meant had arrived.

“Celestia damnit!”

With a harsh kick to the bottom of the door, latching it, Hank walked around the front of the humvee and smiled at Zecora who was waiting for him, “Ready Z?”

“Absolutely.” She answered and took her place beside him as they walked into town, passing the two guards at the entrance with a smile and nod.

Walking down the street that was lit with the warm yellow glow of the street lamps Hank noticed a lot of ponies walking in groups and pairs and snuggling on each other.

“Must be some kind’ve date night thing in town.” He mused aloud.

“It does seem like it.” Zecora agreed, noticing all the other couples around, “You sure picked the right night to do this.”

Smiling down at her, Hank looked back up and down the road as they headed towards the fancy restaurant, “Sometimes things just work out.”

“This is so nice honey.” Zecroa sighed and rubbed up against his leg prompting him to lean over a little and rub his hand up and down her side.

“We haven’t even done anything yet.” He pointed out with a little humor seeping into his voice.

“We don’t have to do anything, it’s just nice to get out and be with you dear.” She explained happily.

“That it is hun.” Hank agreed as he noticed all the looks the ponies were giving him and Zecora as they walked through town.

Most of the looks were directed at him though to be fair and didn’t seem to be from a place of weariness or fear for the most part, but out of curiosity and surprise.

Maybe it was that they had never seen him done up all nice, or maybe it was the surprise of seeing him with a pony on date night. It was most likely that it was a mix of both but either way Hank was at least happy that the looks he was getting weren’t like he was some kind of escaped science experiment.

“How’s the ear?” Hank asked when he exited his thoughts.

“All good, it’s not bleeding anymore.” The zebra answered.

“Good.” Hank nodded, “Still can’t believe you shoved an eighteen gauge needle through your ear. You little freak.”

“What!?” Zecora huffed, “You say it like it’s super strange. A hole that big shouldn’t close up like my old one did.”

“Well I’d fuckin’ hope not.” Hank laughed at her, “And, it is kinda weird.”

“It’s not.” Zecora defended.

“Mhm,” The man nodded, “Did you at least numb the ear with some ice or something?”

“No?” Zecora looked up to the man and laughed at his question.

“You are a tough little thing aren’t ya?” He asked rhetorically and rubbed the side of her neck making her hum before gently poking the back of her ear where she had pierced it, making her flinch.

“Ow! Hey!” She cried, putting a small amount of space between the two of them as he snickered at her.

“Bastard.” She cursed, kicking him in the side of the leg, making him laugh even harder as they walked past the fountain.

Getting close to where they would make a slight turn to get to the fancy restaurant that was done up in gold etching on the windows, soft red velvet curtains, and far too much French in its name for being in Ponyville; Hank and Zecora continued to enjoy each other’s company while doing their best to ignore the looks they were getting from the other ponies that were out and about.

While Zecora truly was ignoring the attention they were getting, the same could not be said for the human. With how his mind had been programmed, he couldn’t help but take note of every pair of eyes on him and file them as a threat or potential threat. So far he had seen nothing that was a call to action or even for suspicion, it was going well, too well, and not a second after the man had thought that did four minotaurs followed by a gaggle of guards came zipping around a corner in front of them.

Stomping around the corner in an obviously aggressive posture three of the minotaurs looked around for a second before locking eyes with the human and eventually slowing to a stop. The group of guards wasn’t ten feet behind the group and almost immediately a pony that Hank could tell was Clover stepped in front of the minotaurs and started telling them something before he was cut off with an angry yell of “shut up pony”.

As the three minotaurs pushed their way past Clover they started on a beeline towards Hank, the lead bull pointing a finger at the man and yelling “YOU!”

Stopping his slow walk Hank looked at Zecora and sighed while discreetly unsnapping the leather strap that held the .44 in its holster, “The day was going so nice.” He muttered before looking at the three as they stomped ever closer.

The firing order and plan of movement already decided upon in his mind to limit the chances of an over penetration striking one of the many bystanders while also wiping the three minotaurs off the Earth before they knew what was happening Hank’s hand hovered over the grip of the showy .44, ready for the moment to present itself.

That moment never came however, and instead of continuing to approach him the three stopped a little over twenty feet away spread out, about five feet between each of them. With his hand still hovering over the pistol Hank stared down each and every of the three in front of him, taking in every point of information that he could.

“You’re even uglier face to face than in the paper. What the fuck is wrong with you? Do you got mange or something?” The minotaur with the busted face sneered, making Hank’s small eyes flick to his for a second before going back and scanning over their whole area making sure there were no other issues to be concerned about and no surprise in waiting.

The biggest problem that Hank noticed, besides all the bystanders and observers in general, was that there were a lot of them behind the minotaurs that seemed to be coming from the street with a number of bars. Hank also noticed a good number of guards and decided to use his famously good communication skills

“Clover!” The human spoke for the first time in the presence of the minotaurs, promptly getting the captain’s attention who was already fixated on the man.

Figuring that Hank wanted to know what was going on he spoke up, “They want to fi-”

“I know what these fuckheads want.” Hank interrupted, not breaking eye contact with the small group, “I need you to get all the ponies behind them, not behind them.”

Understanding why, Clover turned and nodded to the guards behind him, setting them in motion to start corralling ponies to the sides and stopping any more from coming down the street into the danger zone.

Waiting for the guards to get the ponies out of the way Hank’s mind was set at ease when his firing lane was clear of any possible collateral and his hand pulled away from the pistol and took its place more relaxed at his side.

As the human and three minotaurs continued to stare off for nearly a full minute Hank was the first to speak again, “I’m not going to fight you.”

Initially staying silent the three looked at each other and started to laugh as Hank stayed completely stoic.

Taken aback by the extremely violent human’s denial of conflict the ponies that were observing the situation looked to each other as well in shock.

“You don’t have choice monkey.” The biggest minotaur spoke in broken English with a deep accent that Hank couldn’t place.

Nodding at his words Hank pulled the revolver and leveled it at his chest with a lightning quick and smooth draw that even surprised the ponies watching.

Seeing how things were going to go, Clover cursed as his ears flattened against his head to try and dampen the explosions that were soon to come. While most of the ponies followed suit, knowing first hoof what the things that Hank carried around did or having heard what they did to ponies and shucks alike the minotaurs were none the wiser and stood there, only surprised at how quickly the man had moved.

About to pull the trigger on the first of the three Hank paused and looked down at Zecora over his shoulder who was holding her ears and looking away.

“Hey.” He nudged her with his foot as he kept the revolver locked on the large bull, getting her to slowly uncover her ears and look up to him, “Is it going to ruin the night for you if I blow these three’s heads off?”

Not knowing how to answer the question, Zecora looked back and forth between Hank, his gun, and the three minotaurs whose lives now, suddenly, rested in her hooves.

“I - I - I um. I would prefer it if I didn’t have to see and hear that…” Zecora answered as she looked up at Hank who just stared at her for a few seconds over his arm before his little eyes zipped back to his gun as he sighed and calmly de-cocked the hammer and holstered it.

“Look.” Hank spoke in a forceful and authoritative tone, “I’m here to have supper with my girlfriend and enjoy our time together. I’m not going to have you get in the way of that and ruin the night anymore than you already have. Leave us alone.”

Starring the three down, Hank took a deep breath and looked at Zecora with a strained smile, “Let’s go hun.”

Motioning with his head toward the restaurant Hank took a few steps as Zecora followed suit before the female minotaur broke off and rushed over to block their path as the other two closed in, “You ain’t goin’ nowhere monkey.”

Stopping once again Hank’s fists and arms clenched along with the muscles in his neck and jaw making his head tilt as he growled through tight lips.

Using every ounce of self restraint the man had to not pull that .44 off his hip and turn her head into a modern art splatter painting, whipping that cocky smile from existence entirely. Hank through a great number of great heaving breaths calmed himself and respected his girlfriend’s wishes.

Opening his eyes with one last exhale the man stood as calmly as he could and simply stared at the female minotaur. While there was no explosion of violence the scene was still very disturbing to the ponies in attendance, and especially, the subject of his stare.

While she tried her best to look tough in front of the monkey, looking back at the ice cold eyes that were boring through her was more unsettling than she could have expected. Maybe there was some truth to what the old bastard had said, because the face she was looking back at held a look she had never seen before, even around murderers and thieves alike.

This look was one of deep seated rage and the knowledge of how to use it. There wasn’t a drop of emotion on his face or in his eyes and yet those same eyes looked back at her not like she was another being or even a threat. In those eyes she was just another notch to add to a belt or knife handle.

The ponies had never seen Hank force himself not to act when outright threatened, never seen him step down from any kind of confrontation at all. At first they thought the Everfree monster had met a group that actually scared him, but now they knew that wasn’t the case. For some reason, the murderous monster that had killed hundreds of shucks, hundreds of diamond dogs, and knocked the demi-god princess of the sun to the ground in one punch, was trying not to fight a mere three minotaurs. Despite the their best efforts.

“You are going to fight me.” The tattooed one demanded, “And I am going to beat you until you don't remember your name, you flat faced mutt.”

Snapping his head followed by his whole body around to face the bull that had spoken the ponies watching on reared back a little at the instantly sudden twitchy movements that were coming from the large bipedal predator.

“Leave.” Hank slowly spoke, in a low emotionless tone.

“What’s the matter? Scared to get your gangly monkey flank knocked out in front of your zebra girlfriend?” The minotaur laughed and shook his head as the human continued to stare daggers at him.

“I don’t want to get your blood on my only set of good clothes.” The human growled.

“My blood?!” He put a hand to his tattooed chest and cackled a deep belly laugh, “The only one that’s gonna be bleeding is you when you’re on the ground with all your teeth down your throat.”

Laughing a little more the bull wiped the smile from his face, “Now. You’re gonna put your hands up and I’m gonna show you and this whole podunk town what happens when you think you can get away with embarrassing proud minotaur families when you pose over their dead sons on the face of some stupid pony newspaper.”

“You have one more chance to leave under your own power.” Hank huffed while unbuttoning his cuffs and rolling them up to just below his elbows. Revealing even more scars to his potential opponents.

“My hooves are absolutely shaking.” He laughed and flexed his arms, doing a few slow punches to warm his shoulders up.

“Should be.” Hank said flatly, hanging his arms at his sides.

“And why is that?” Amused, the minotaur continued to limber up by shadow boxing.

“Cause when we’re done here you three or going to be on the ground with broken bones and missing pieces and I’m gonna go into that restaurant with my girlfriend and have an absolutely wonderful night.” Hank explained while looking around and seeing many a fancily dressed pony now amongst the crowd and chattering excitedly amongst themselves, pointing at him periodically while gossiping. It seemed like there were many an “out of towner” in Ponyville tonight, “That is unless you want to peacefully go our separate ways.”

“Not a chance in Tartarus.” The Minotuar growled, further angered by the memory of seeing his cousins lined up on the dirt of some far away pony town gutted like fish.

“So be it.” Hank cracked his neck from side to side and took a step forward, followed by the same from the tattooed bull.

“You’d better hope you don’t get any blood on my clothes.” Hank added as he confidently strode forward as the minotaur hoped back and forth on his hooves like a clumsy impersonation of Ali.

“And why’s that, freak?”

“Cause if you get any on it I’ll make sure I soak myself in it.”

As twenty feet became ten and ten became five the crowd watched as the still flat faced Hank finally raised his hands just before the minotaur readied an already loaded punch

“Do ya think everypony will think we’re some big herd? Bein’ out on date night like this an all.” Applejack smiled as the others in the group giggled at the notion.

“Yeah, right!” Rainbow Dash laughed in her scratchy voice, “I’ve seen plenty of other ponies out tonight that aren’t dating.”

“Like who?” Twilight asked with a raised brow, having only seen couples so far.

“Uhhh, Lyra and BonBon.” Rainbow answered like it was obvious, making all the other ponies in attendance minus Twilight look between each other with confused looks as the prismatic pegasus chuckled.

“Rainbow dear. You do realize Lyra and Bonbon are marefriends. Right?” Rarity interjected, making Rainbow stop laughing and hover in place for a second as the rest of the group continued to walk.

“Really?” Rainbow asked, not believing what she had heard, as she caught back up to the group easily.

“Yeah! They’ve been dating for like ever!” Pinkie quickly nodded, “I made their two year anniversary cake!”

“Two years!?!” Rainbow yelled.

“Yeah sugar cube.” Applejack nodded while looking up at the oblivious pegasus, “They’ve been datin’ well before Twilight here showed up,”

“How did I never notice?” Rainbow muttered to herself as she continued to hover beside the main group.

“I guess pegasi are known as bird brains for a reason.” Rarity quipped, getting a series of laughs from the group and an unamused “Hey!” from the bird brain in question.

“No offense to you of course, Fluttershy.” Rarity added when the group had finished laughing after a few moments.

“Oh, none taken. Even I knew Lyra and Bonbon were dating.” Fluttershy gently added with a smile getting another round of chortles from the group at Rainbow’s expense.

“Hey, it’s not my fault I’m too busy to notice things sometimes!” Rainbow defended while crossing her forelegs and closing her eyes.

“Too busy sleeping?” Twilight cocked her head with a smile getting Rainbow to open her eyes and scoff.

“Whatever.” She dismissed trying to make it seem like she was upset but couldn’t help a small grin slip through making the others smile and laugh, this time with Rainbow Dash.

“So what exactly is the plan for the night girls?” Rarity asked never having been clued in on the group’s activities.

“There really isn’t one,” Twilight turned her head and smiled at Rarity and the others, “I just thought it would be fun to get together when we’re not having to deal with some issue or working.”

Agreeing with the bookish pony the group nodded and started collectively thinking about just what they could get up to for the evening.

“I think getting something to eat should be on the list.” Rainbow interjected.

“Of course ya would.” Applejack laughed, getting an eye roll from the pegasus.

“Don’t act like you couldn’t eat a regular pony out of house and home farm pony. I know you could eat.” Rainbow shot back, making AJ shake her head.

“I never said I wasn’t hungry did I?” AJ added, getting a smug look from the hovering pony.

“Knew it.”

“Um… I could eat as well.” Fluttershy meekly declared.

The rest of the group seemingly in agreement that getting something to eat should be their first matter of business. What logically came next was deciding the what and where, “We should go to the hayburger and get something really quick. All the sit down restaurants will be full of ponies on dates anyways.” The same pony who decided on getting everypony together advised, perhaps a small bias on her part slipping through when recommending the fast food joint.

“While I’m not usually in the mood for greasy food, I will say it does sound rather good.” Rarity mused.

“I’m down.” Rainbow nodded.

“Yep!” Pinkie bounced in place

“Ah’m always down for a good hayburger.”

“Works for me,” Fluttershy smiled, “Somepony can have my fries though. I can never finish them and the burger.”

The where and what figured out the ponies changed their course and started heading for the hayburger. Naturally they plotted the shortest course for the restaurant and headed for the square since the restaurant was placed in the more “nightlife” area of the town with the bars and other hangouts as opposed to the more typically placed sitdown restaurants.

“So what made you pick couples night for all of us to get together Twilight?” Pinkie asked, getting twilight to sheepishly laugh.

“IIIIII didn’t mean to pick couples night.” Twilight admitted, “I completely forgot it was coming up and when all our schedules lined up I didn’t want to change it.”

Not usually one to not take into account future events when setting up a plan, Twilight’s failure to properly check for conflicts was perfectly indicative of how distracted and busy she had been.

Snickering at Twilight’s minor mistake, as Twilight giggled herself, none of the members in the group were upset with how the night had turned out in the slightest and were happy that they had finally gotten a night out, even if they were sharing with the couples of Ponyville and even Canterlot to some extent.

As the six drew closer to the middle of town more and more ponies became present along with the ambient conversation noise raising a little. What was strange though was that there were no ponies walking away from the square, only approaching it.

Rounding the final corner before the square the six mares were met with a lot of ponies standing watching something as they idly chatted and pointed to whatever was in front of them.

“I wonder what’s goin’ on.” Applejack said as the group unconsciously sped up to reach the action.

“Oh, I do hope it’s a band!” Fluttershy said excitedly, “That would be so nice for all the couples and herds.”

Reaching the back of the crowd, the six did their best to listen in on what was being said, but there was simply too much being said to decipher what was going on. With no information to go on, and the need to cross the street to get the Hayburger anyways the ponies squeezed themselves between the building and the crowd, eventually getting to the front and seeing the real cause of the commotion.

“What’s he doing here?” Rainbow asked rhetorically, her face falling into a small scowl.

“I didn't know he had clothes like that.” Rarity huffed, instantly analyzing what the man had dressed himself in. It looks so much better than his usual rags.”

“You know….” Rarity brought a hoof to her chin, “ It actually shares a lot with your style Applejack.”

Turning to the cowmare Rarity’s face instantly morphed into a smug smile when she saw the orange mare practically drooling at the sight of their resident human.

“w - wow.” Applejack couldn’t help but voice getting the attention of the other’s in her group which quickly made her try and brush it off.

“What was that darling?” Rarity leaned in with a coy smile.

“Ah…. It was nothin’! Just didn’t expect to um.. It’s nothin’.” The farm pony tried to brush off the quizzical looks from her friends, to mixed effect.

“Rightttt…” Rarity grinned wider, “You’re smitten with our resident bad colt aren’t you?”

“What? No. No! Ah- Ah ju’ didn’t know he had clothes like that is all.”

“Turning from her friend with an amused huff, Rarity looked over the man once more, taking in everything she could about the foreign yet familiar outfit, “He does look rather good in that style. I will give you that… though there are things I would change.”

“What’s going on here?” Twilight asked in general, trying to find some context for the scene before them.

“Hey Twilight.”

Hearing her name called Twilight turned to see who had addressed her and quickly saw Roseluck making her way toward her and her friends, squeezing through the crowd and excusing herself all along the way.

As the earth pony mare drew closer Twilight couldn’t help but give a quick glance to the scar that was present on her neck and kept her fur from growing along the line where the knife had cut her.

“Hi Roseluck, how are you?” Twilight greeted back when the mare had finally made her way through the crowd.

“I’m good.” The flower pony smiled and gave a quick look to Hank and the minotaurs as the two parties traded words that couldn't be heard by the ponies in the crowd over the crowd’s own volume, “Me and Lily were selling roses to all the couples when we heard a bunch of yelling and saw those minotaurs and… Hank, I think his name is, here off the square.”

“Yeah, his name is Hank, but, what’s going on though? Things look a little tense between him and these three.” Twilight asked further as the Minotaur Hank was facing brought his hands up and started throwing slow punches as he bounced on his hooves.

“Well, the minotaurs, especially that one,” Roseluck pointed to the tattooed bull, “Kept demanding that Hank was going to fight him and when he and the zebra went to leave the minotaur mare blocked him from going.

“Hank didn’t want to fight?” Twilight looked at Roseluck incredulously, “I don’t know if I can believe that.”

“That’s what we saw.” Roseluck shrugged and motioned to her sister across the crowd who eagerly waved back at them, which Twilight and the other’s reciprocated.

“He’s been very eager to fight in my…. Experience.” Rarity noted, the hair on her back raising ever so slightly as images and memories came flooding forward.

Putting her friend on the back, Applejack looked over to Roseluck who was also seemingly lost in thought, a hoof brought to the side of her neck. Remembering what had happened before she had even properly met Hank for the first time, Applejack looked with worry at Roseluck, noticing the line of exposed skin on her neck where the knife had cut into her when she dropped her hoof for a second.

“How have ya been doin’ since the…. Ya know?” The Apple mare asked, getting Roseluck’s attention.

“O-Oh. I’m okay.” Roseluck nervously smiled with a shaky laugh, bringing her hoof back to her scar again in a clear nervous habit, “I really do need to properly thank him for… saving my life that day, but he’s just scary to be around and when I think about it I start to have a hard time breathing and Ijustmy mindfillsupand I can’tthinkthenmyhead feelsheavy--

“Roseluck, please. Just take a breath.” Twilight put a hoof and the mare’s shoulder and looked at her with a concerned look

Snapped out of her oncoming panic attack Roseluck nodded and slowly breathed in and out until she had calmed enough.

Still looking at her concerned Roseluck opened her eyes and smiled, “Thanks Twilight. I guess I’m not doing quite as good as I thought.”

“There are good days and bad days and then really bad days darling.” Rarity interjected with a knowing smile and deep eyes.

“Y- Yeah.” Roseluck sighed, her face looking much more tired than it did just moments before, her ears falling a little as well.

“But he actually is the sweetest stallion, despite his looks and… actions. It would probably make his day to see that you’re doing as well as you are.”

“Really?” Roseluck looked at Rarity, amazed at her words.

“Yes. Really. He is more understanding than you would ever bel- Oh dear.” Switching her attention to Hank she saw him and the minotaur take their first steps towards each other. What she really saw though was that look on his face. It was the exact same one she had seen underneath his helmet through orange muzzle flashes as he massacred everything in his path. It was a look both of stoicism and crazed rage, two things that couldn’t be more contradictory, yet on the man’s small and hard to read features fit like a well worn in glove.

As the distance closed between him and his first victim Hank kept his eyes locked on the minotaur's shoulders, not the eyes like most liked to focus on in a fight, the shoulders never lied about what was coming, while the eyes could. It wasn’t something Hank had always known, or even learned quickly, it was something that he had picked up on through sheer experience and a lot of injuries.

Watching every little dip and movement of the bull’s shoulders Hank looked for the smallest flex, the quickest twitch, whatever it was the minotaur decided to throw his shoulders would betray him and tell exactly what it was and what side it was coming from. Even if it was a kick, the shoulders would tell by leaning back and dipping.

And just as Hank had expected, the second he was within an arm’s reach of the overly eager minotaur his left shoulder dropped forward and turned in choreographing the incoming jab like a huge light up billboard to the man’s well practiced mind and eyes.

Not only was the jab wildly choreographed, the minotaur definitely putting his all into the first punch aimed right at his nose, it was slow. To Hank, a man used to fighting cracked out humans with as much predictability as the weather in spring and hyper aggressive wolves, the punch was nearly in slow motion.

He didn't know if it was so slow because of how minotaurs seemed to be built, being very stocky and rigid, or if the one he was facing off with was just particularly shit at boxing, but he really didn't care. All Hank cared about was getting to supper and teaching these three a lesson they’d never forget or recover from.

As the jab fired from the bull’s left side finally got far enough away from his body that Hank could do something, in a blink Hank went from directly in the path of the punch to the outside of it with a quick stutter step and lunge to the right side of the minotaur’s punch, taking his side in a single explosive lunge.

Arm still extended from the attempted strike Egronson wasn’t even able to turn his head quick enough to follow the human as it instantly took his outside, having cut in right under his jab in a flash.

Having snapped his arms up at the start of his cut in, Hank pulled back his right arm in a cross aimed right at the side of the shocked minotaur’s head as he reset his footing and twisted his hips loading the strike and squaring back off with his enemy in a single set of practiced movements.

Letting the punch free as he rose back up to full height Hank saw the minotaur's eye widen in realization that there was nothing he could do to defend against the hit.

Not a quarter second later Hank’s scarred knuckles impacted Egronson square on the jaw sending the minotaur on a path with the ground that was only stopped by the hand that Hank had wrapped around the minotaur’s still extended left wrist and that had kept the bull from defending the cross to the jaw.

Pulling on the arm to bring the still, surprisingly, conscious but reeling minotaur back up straight since his legs had gone out from under him when he had been hit; the human then let go of the wrist and instead shot in for the legs.

Getting his left arm in between the minotaur’s legs while his right wrapped over the bull’s left shoulder by the neck Hank then tensed his legs and abs lifting the large bull over his head with no effort at all.

Hank didn’t hold him long though, just long enough to get a look at the stunned expression of the huge minotaur that was his next target and of a large portion of the crowd who was looking at him with wide eyes.

With a yell the man then repositioned the now flailing minotaur and set his footing before spiking the bull into the hard ground head first causing Egronson’s neck to snap to the side under his own weight, his outstretched arms unable to stop his momentum.

Hank didn’t let up when he saw the bull limp on the ground though, with one of his horns snapped off, no. That violence switch had been flipped on and there was no flipping it off until Hank was happy with the damage he had done, he didn’t care if everyone was watching him. Let em’! Let them learn what happened when they pushed him.

So with that Hank bent over and grabbed the minotaur’s right arm, pulled it straight up, locked the elbow with a twist and then rammed his knee through the joint in the direction it didn’t bend, all while staring deep into the largest bull’s now concerned eyes

Arm breaking in one clean wet crunch Hank stepped over the downed body of the first minotaur, dropping the mulched appendage as he did and rapidly approached his next target who was steadily back stepping away from the pissed off human with his arms half assed pulled into guard.

Motivation rapidly turned to fear as the creature stomped toward him, Luersbjorn wanted to surrender but raised his hands anyways, there was no way he would let himself show such weakness in front of ponies of all things. It didn’t matter the odds, he would never tarnish his family’s name by surrendering. He would fight until he could no more. He would fight until the wild animal in front of him was nothing more than a smear on the dirt. And he had to avenge his kin.

As the human got closer Luersbjorn stopped backing away and lunged forward with a deep bellowing yell he hoped sounded more angry than afraid. Praying that one hit would be enough to stop the monster from getting to him, the huge bull threw a hook with all his might in an attempt to take the feral creature’s head off.

Unfortunately for the massive walking mound of muscle the human almost lazily weaved under his punch and took a step back with a perplexed look on his face instead of throwing a punch of his own that he easily could have.

Further angered by his inability to hit the smaller biped and its strange reaction to his attempted strike Bjorn roared and started throwing punch after punch at the man.

Not a single one of the punches landed despite the minotaur's best efforts as Hank continuously dodged and weaved through the punches, repeatedly taking the bull’s side and even rear as he did so, forcing the minotaur to spin in a circle to keep squared away with the man.

Throughout the entire time though, Hank never threw a punch of his own, even when he was beside or behind his opponent with every option imaginable open to him. Amazed at how clumsy and slow the minotaur was Hank couldn’t help but play with his food a little bit, plus the more gassed the bull became the more Hank could do. And it was clear that the minotaur’s cardio was lacking much like his flexibility.

As the large crowd of lovers watched Hank move around the still yelling and frantically punching minotaur they couldn’t help but look in amazement at the foot and body work the human displayed.

All the punches were absolutely nothing to the man, he could bob, weave, roll, deflect, and parry absolutely anything the minotaur could throw at him. No movement was wasted or sloppy as the man danced around the flailing bull, he never once got tripped up when he was pushed or ever lost balance when switching his foot position. It was clear that the human not only knew how to fight but truly understood it.

It was peaceful watching the display unfold in a strange way. There was no real violence happening despite the continued efforts of Bjorn as he growled and breathlessly cursed at the man for embarrassing him. It seemed like more of a dance to the ponies than a fight as they watched the two spin around each other.

Almost forgetting that it was a fight, since neither Hank nor Luersbjorn had been hurt in any way, the crowd and the minotaur was suddenly reminded of the severity of the situation when Hank suddenly, and without warning, knocked Kuerbjorn’s even more sluggish and heavy left arm out of the way as the bull threw a last ditch attempt at a jab as he gassed out.

In an explosion of movement Hank batted the arm out of the way with his right forearm before stepping in and driving his right fist up under the minotaur’s sternum before giving a quick kick to the bull’s right shin with his left boot.

Landing on all fours with his lungs empty, Bjorn held one of his huge hands to his sternum where he had been struck and wheezed against his uncooperating diaphragm as his other hand pressed against the dirt of the road holding him up as he sat there on his knees.

Hacking against his own throat, creating a small puddle of spit in the dirt below him that his body started to produce in response to the hit, the minotaur was stuck groaning about the pain in his chest and shin before he realized that he wasn’t being further beat up on.

Feeling very fortunate that the human had gone easy on him compared to his cousin Bjorn was just starting to get up before his hopes were dashed as a boot rocketed toward his face before impacting square on his upper lip and nose sending him reeling again.

Falling back with his hands on his face as blood started gushing forward freely Bjorn was back on the ground screaming in pain from the hard leather that had broken his nose and removed all of his front teeth.

Watching as the minotaur rolled on the ground holding his face and screamed around the blood that was filling his mouth Hank let out an annoyed huff. Usually he wouldn't have broken contact with the minotaur when he doubled over and would have immediately driven his right knee up into his face, but he was concerned about getting blood on his clothes and instead felt like he should play it safe by kicking him instead.

Now though he had to deal with the screaming and the crying. It had always pissed him off when a target of his started crying and begging when they were wounded or when the tables turned, hell even some infected would scream when got mortally wounded and would try to drag themselves off.

It was just one of those things that got under Hank’s skin. If you want to be big and bad then you should go out with some self respect. Don’t start a knife fight if you aren’t willing to get stabbed to death. That also meant you shouldn’t threaten to smear someone on the pavement if you haven’t accepted that it could happen to you.

It didn’t help that through the many years he had spent under direct threat of swarming infected his brain had programmed itself to automatically make Hank set upon anything that was making noise and make it stop. And the gurgling screaming from the bull was just like what he had heard so much of back home.

Like a computer loading a preset program, Hank set right back upon the downed form of Bjorn driving a knee into his kidney as he took mount, making the minotaur scream in pain and panic more.

The sound only spurring on his response more Hank gripped the minotaur's wide neck and pressed against it choking the bull with his left hand as his right repeatedly pounded down on the bottom of the minotaur’s rib cage as he went for the floating rib.

Convulsing with every hit from the man Bjorn openly cried and tried his best to dislodge the human to no effect before eventually his cry turned into a raspy wheeze when the rib broke free and punctured his lung.

A cheshire grin spread across Hank’s face when he felt the pop and familiar wheeze he pressed the, now unresisting, minotaur's head back and aimed his next strike for the adams apple.

Just as his fist was going forward however a sudden and hard kick from his left knocked him off his target and onto the dirt, only after had drug her arm across Bjorn's bloody face and neck getting blood just where he didn’t want it. As the sting just under his left armpit started to spread Hank immediately got on his feet and whipped around to face who had struck him.

“Stay away from him!” The female minotaur cried, tears freely coursing down her cheeks as she switched focus from Hank to Bjorn and got on her knees beside the wheezing bull.

Growling, Hank ignored the slightly annoying ache the hard kick had produced and took a long step toward the female minotaur, loading a kick of his own and blind siding her with a powerful push kick that hit her directly in the left shoulder.

Sent tumbling across the hard dirt from the kick that felt more like getting hit by a runaway cart, the heifer groaned and tried to move her right arm, hissing when she did from the pain in her shoulder joint.

Holding her numb shoulder with her other hand, the last minotaur standing stumbled to her hooves and turned to face the beast that had struck down her brother and cousin with brutal ease and now had his sights on her.

“You stupid fuckin’ bitch.” It spoke through a deep growling voice, that sounded nothing like she had heard earlier from the creature, “You made me get blood on my fuckin’ arm!”

Showing its left forearm, smeared in blood from her brother’s muzzle, the creature’s eye bore through her as he lowered his arm and continued to approach her as she quickly backed away.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” She back peddled waving her left hand as she did so, her right limply hung at her side.

Offering no response to her apology, clearly still intending on finishing her off as well, Hank strode toward her, his face adopting that same stone cold look as figured out just what he was going to do to the helpless girl.

“I’m sorry! I couldn’t just let you kill him! He’s my last sibling, I can’t lose him too, Please!” She pleaded as she backed toward the crowd unknowingly. Her heartfelt plea seemingly had no effect on the man though and he continued to stoically pursue as she tried desperately to escape.

Looking behind her at the crowd of wide eyed ponies, realizing that her path was blocked she whipped her back around to face the beast and shrieked, seeing it not a foot away from her face.

Panicking, not remembering any of the hand to hand she had been taught and knowing that it wouldn’t do any good anyways, she desperately attempted to fling herself back and away from the creature, not caring if she was throwing herself into the crowd of ponies.

Faster than she could realize however, Hank's right hand shot forward and grabbed her by the shirt, as if reading exactly what she was going to do, not allowing her to get away like she wanted.

Pushing away with her legs and doing her best to dislodge his vice grip on her shirt by striking at his elbow Sif continued to cry out in panic while she made no progress in dislodging herself. As her panic took over Sif spun on her hoof in an attempt to break his grip and run away.

Feeling his grip weaken as she spun around, finally out of sight from his awful face and eyes, Sif felt a small flame of hope light in her chest when she felt his hand completely break free form her shirt. Just about to push off with her legs as fast as she could through the crowd, that small flame of hope was replaced by a terrible sinking feeling when his arm suddenly shot around her neck and pulled her back, gagging her.

“No! No! Nonono-” Sif begged, kicking her feet and grabbing at the large arm around her neck. Fighting with everything she had, the minotaur looked out at the crowd in complete desperation through blurry tear filled eyes.

“Help! Please someone help me! PLE-chhhlkkk.” Screams for help immediately replaced by a loud coughing sputter as Hank set the air choke in, Siv’s flailing picked up to an all time high.

Her left hand going from batting at his thigh to grabbing at his short hair Hank finally had enough of his hair being pulled and kicked the minotaur’s legs out from under her effectively turning his arm into a noose she was hanging herself on.

Tightening both the arm around her neck and the one behind her head Sif’s gagged cries slowed while her frantic pulling and beating got weaker before she suddenly went limp in his grip.

Holding the choke tight for a few more seconds Hank stared hatefully at the back of her head before grunting and dragging her over to where her apparent brother was laying in a growing puddle of his own blood and carelessly tossed her on top of him.

Looking down at the pair as the large minotaur groaned and gagged on the blood from his mouth filling his throat while the female laid face down where she landed unmoving. As his brain went through the process of deciding if should stomp on their necks now and finish them or not a long groaning wheeze hijacked his train of thought and force booted a different sub program in his mind.

Turning around and spotting the offending individual Hank abandoned his two current targets since they weren’t making much noise and switched priority to the form slowly pushing itself up one one elbow.

Calmly walking up to the side of the prone figure, Hank's hand went to the spot where his bayonet usually was but caused him to pause when he didn't feel its handle. Stopping for a brief moment to look down Hank’s mind quickly found the buck knife fixed blade forward on his left side hanging off a leather gun belt.

Simply pulling the knife with his left hand, the appearance of the leather gun belt and lack of load bearing equipment wasn’t enough to snap Hank’s brain out of its preset operation and instead he continued toward his target it coughed and groaned in pain.

If he didn’t silence his victim it would bring a whole group of the infected down on top of him. It was bad enough when an infected person started screaming, calling out its kin in distress and more than certainly sending a few motivated individuals to come rushing towards his position, but an injured person? That was so much worse. Person crying out in pain was like a dinner bell being rung, it was easy pickings. Like a bear to a fresh kill site, motivated infected would rush headlong to a helpless person and unmotivated infected would suddenly become very motivated, rushing in as well. In all his time dealing with the damned things he had never seen, or had, a horde be brought down by an infected crying out in pain. But he seen, and had, many brought in by a screaming person or animal. He wasn’t about to let it happen again.

Reaching his target, Hank brought the pommel of the Buck 119 down onto the side of the head just behind the left ear causing the large male to dip his head forward and go silent for a second from the shock.

There was no time to wait however and in a flash Hank reached over and grabbed onto the large male’s left shoulder with his right and and flung him over with surprising ease before covering the mouth with the same hand and switching the 119 in his left hand to and ice pick grip while raising it to slightly over his head.

Tensing his left shoulder and arm muscles as he prepared to plunge the knife through the ribs and into the heart Hank pressed down harder covering the mouth as his target started to wriggle and make muffled shouts of surprise.

Looking directly into the wide frantic eyes of the male as he tried to shake his head ‘no’, Hank’s face didn’t change at all. The look of pure pleading fear did nothing to dissuade the man from what he was going to do, it was a look he had seen dozens of times, he was used to wide eyes and final cries. It was nothing new.

So as Egronson raised his one good arm in an instinctual attempt to block the knife Hank simply gave a quick slash across the bicep making the minotaur give a muffled cry as his arm dropped.

Pressing harder into the muzzle of the minotaur, Hank raised his knife one more time and narrowed his eyes as Egronson closed his eyes entirely and waited for the knife to come down on him.

Just as the man was about to throw the knife down once again he wavered slightly when a voice cut through to his brain.

“Honey! There’s no need to do that!”

Still poised to strike, Hank's eyes looked side to side as he tried to figure out the voice before it came again.

“Calm down dear. Please, just calm down.”

Snapping his head to the location of the voice Hank stared directly at Zecora who was very calmly and slowly approaching her coltfriend.

Knife still raised Hank continued to stare at Zecora as his brain started to catch up with his current surroundings. As the old started to fade away in place with the current Hank then broke eye contact with his girlfriend and started to look around, spotting hundreds of eyes on him as he held the minotaur down by his face.

Looking all around him, Hank's mind slowly got back up to speed and finally completely switched out of the “program” it was running.

First to notice the change, Zecora saw the light in his eyes come back and his face change, just that ever so small amount as he slowly relaxed. Knowing she had her Hank back Zecora took a few more steps forward immediately drawing his attention.

“You won dear, you don’t have to do that.” She smiled, doing her best to comfort the man as she switched out of one of his “modes”.

Looking at her a few seconds longer, still processing, Hank finally took in a deep breath and relaxed, lowering the knife and taking his hand off the bull’s mouth, but still maintaining mount with his knee on the sternum.

“Do you still want to have dinner?” Zecora asked, even though her appetite had mostly disappeared as she watched her coltfriend do his thing.

“Yeah.” The man nodded before looking back down to the hyperventilating minotaur under him, his face falling again.

“If I see you or your merry band of retards again I swear to god that I’ll cut you into porterhouse steaks and cook you on the grill. Get the fuck out of my town.” Frantically nodding up at the deranged creature Egronson breathed a deep sigh of relief when Hank finally got off his chest.

Re-sheathing his knife and shaking his arms free of some of the tension that had built up in them Hank took a moment and very slowly scanned his entire surroundings, refamiliarizing himself. Seeing a lot of very shocked and nervous looks from ponies he had never seen before, he also saw much the same from ponies he was at least familiar with. As he scanned over the crowd Hank eventually saw a group he was very familiar with and let his gaze linger on them for a few seconds longer before moving on, eventually locating Clover.

“I need to go talk to Clover real quick, and then we’ll head to supper okay?” Hank spoke, giving Zecora a quick smile, getting a nod in return.

Walking toward where Clover and a few other guards were talking to the only minotaur to not have a few broken bones Hank patted his belt down, making sure nothing came loose in the scuffle. With nothing missing Hank crossed the square with a casual stride rolling down his sleeves as he did so.

Drawing near to the minotaur who had his back to the man as he spoke to the guards, Clover noticed Hank approaching and quickly made a move to put himself between the minotaur and the still angry seeming human.

Noticing Clover’s move around him, the last minotaur standing turned around curiously only to see Hank’s eyes looking right back into his. Backing up despite the pony between him and the crazed human, Frode wanted absolutely none of what his Girlfriend, well probably ex-girlfriend now, and her brother / extended cousin got. He had tried his absolute hardest to dissuade them and especially her from even seeking the thing out, let alone fighting it. The fact that it killed six armed murderous minotaurs wasn’t enough for them to be convinced before, but he expected they felt differently now.

“Now Hank, he hasn’t done anything to you.” Clover said as Hank approached, no doubt to continue his lesson.

“I ain’t gonna do anything to him.” Hank waved the still backing away minotaur off, “I just wanna go to supper man.”

“Alright?” Clover raised his brow as Hank stopped before him, “Well what’s up?”

“Clover...I just wanna apologize for what I said to you when you called Celestia to town. You’re a good guy and you were just doing what you thought was best,” Hank sighed, “I was just in a lot of pain and really mad at the time, but I do regret what I said. I didn’t mean any of it.”

Completely blindsided by the apology, from Hank no less, after he went through three minotaurs like wet paper bags, much like Iron had said, “So you don't want to stomp my head into the dirt?” Clover asked, making Hank droop a little.

“No, no I don’t.” Hank confirmed, upset that the pony remembered exactly what he had said, meaning that it had really stuck with the stallion, “I didn’t mean any of it, I promise, and I’m sorry.”

Still amazed at the sincerity that Hank was showing, Clover nodded at his words and took a deep breath of his own.

“Well, I’m glad you don’t hate me, cause I for sure thought you did after Princess Celestia hit you like that.” Clover huffed, “I still can’t believe that she did that. I never would have expected that in a million years! Honest!”

“Yeah, I know man. It’s alright though, I got her fat ass back for it.” Hank smiled and laughed.

Smiling as well Clover just shook his head, “You know it was in the paper. Like all over the paper for at least two weeks. ‘Biggest scandal in five hundred years!’ they said.”

“Really? I obviously don’t get the paper out where I live.”

“Oh yeah.” Clover nodded, “I’ll tell you this though: It wasn’t the whole story. The fact that it was you was in none of the papers, the royal crown deftly pulled a few strings and had the story cleaned a little. All that was officially admitted was that Princess Celestia had a physical altercation and took blame for starting it.”

“Oh Reallllyyyyyy.” Hank crossed his arms and hummed smugly, “Nothing about how she lost either?”

“Nope. Have to save some face I guess.” The pony shrugged.

“Well I’m gonna remember all that, thanks for the info.” Hank’s face split into a devious smile making Clover second guess if he should have told the human. “Well with all that said, I’m gonna head to supper finally. You have a goodnight Clover.”

Smiling and turning with a wave Hank started to walk back to Zecora. Waving back at Hank as he walked away Clover was all in all pretty happy with how things had transpired. Sure it had been violent, and the hospital was going to have three more filled beds, but nopony had died surprisingly, and with Hank that was always a good outcome.

A small smile on his face Clover turned and sighed, he still needed to go get stretchers for the minotaurs.

Smiling at Zecora as he walked up, the Zebra smiled back lovingly, doing her best to not look at the three groaning minotaurs.

“Ready?” Hank asked simply.

Nodding in confirmation, Zecora motioned with her head toward where the six usual suspects were standing, chatting amongst themselves, “Applejack is over there. We should go say hello.”

Sighing as he stopped walking he just looked down at Zecora for a few seconds, “...Why?”

Scoffing at him the zebra shook her head, “Cause we’re her friends.”

“Uh huh. No other reason right?” The human pursed his lips.

Rolling her eyes at him she turned and started to make her own way over to the group.

“Z.” Hank called out, making her stop and turn to the man who in one step covered what she had in four.

“Look.” The human crouched down and lowered her voice, “I don’t want to hurt her reputation and ability to do business by associating myself with her. Especially after what all these ponies just watched me do alright?”

“Honey I don’t-” Zecora tried to respond but the human just shook his head and put up his hand pausing her.

“I’m not going to risk it,” The human said calmly but firmly, “It’s not that I don’t want to, but I know that my image isn’t exactly a good one and I don’t want it tarnishing hers.”

“...okay honey.” Zecora sighed and eventually nodded.

“Thanks dear.” The human smiled and stood back up, “Now let’s get something to eat.”

“Sounds good.” Zecora smiled again, following close behind as they walked towards the restaurant and as result the large crowd that had only dissipated a small amount.

Stopping in front of the first pony at the edge of the crowd, Hank looked down at the well dressed, unfamiliar mare with a flat look as she spoke very passionately with the mare to her right.

Waiting for either of the two to notice him, the rest of the crowd had noticed his presence and very quickly started to quiet down, a few ponies at the fringes of the crowd scattering away in the process.

Still completely oblivious to his presence or the crowds sudden decrease in volume the two mares kept, now loudly, gossiping back and forth about “Not believing it's real”, “Telling everypony back in Canterlot”, “and did you see how brutish it is? It made the first minotaur look handsome!” among others.

Looking over to Zecora and holding his hand out in disbelief at how oblivious they were, the zebra couldn’t help but snicker at the two.

“Hey.” Hank said, nudging the mare closest to him on the shoulder with his boot.

Stopping their conversation and turning to address the interruption with indignance the expression on their faces switched when they weren’t met with the face of another pony but Hank’s knee.

Tracing the leg up all the way to his head the mares looked up at him with wide eyes.

“Move.” Hank said simply with a flat look getting no response from the two as they continued to look up at him frozen in place.

Tilting his head back with a groan, Hank looked back forward while pinching his nose and clearing his throat. Looking at them a few seconds longer Hank slowly blinked before shooting his arms out to his sides and squatting with his legs, “GO!”

The sudden movement and loud exclamation made both mares and a good partition of the crowd flinch back and be broken from their frozen state.

Acting just like he would to make chickens leave the coop Hank took a step forward this time flicking his arms toward the ponies, “Skidaddle! Go away! Beat it!”

Each exclamation met with a step forward and quick flail of his arms The ponies ever faster stepped away from the man and started to scatter in a frantic manner.

“Bidh falbh! Ruith! Ruith!” Hank barked at the crowd, finally breaking them loose and causing couples to scatter everywhere. “Lós! Verlassen! Schnell!” Hank pushed into the crowd power walking after ponies at random causing them to take off in every direction, some screaming.

Laughing at the ponies scattering like chickens Hank kept switching up his languages since it was working so well, “Disperser! Courir! Partez! Vite! Vite!”

Laughing as the last of the ponies had scattered down side streets and into stores, or just far enough away before turning back around to look at him Hank stood with his hands on his hips with a smile on his face, clearly having enjoyed making the ponies panic around him.

Turning to Zecora who was just shaking her head Hank waved for her to follow him as they finally made their way to the restaurant. Only after a hundred interruptions.

I really hate how I write cause this is just 14,000 words of absolutely nothing. They didn't even get to fucking supper yet.

Next chapter and all following, I hope, will be shorter and actually get stuff done.

As it is now I've spent 6 years writing about absolutely nothing and honestly I'm pretty sick of this whole project so I don't know what to do really.

Posted up toad moment