To Be A Wonderbolt

by Hawker Hurricane

Chapter - 3 - Show Time

I trotted into the hotel spa and could already feel my masculinity drain by the second as I took in the overly feminine surroundings. Sweet aromatic smells filled my nose and everything was clean. Too clean. And those stallions in the corner are looking at me funny.

Or maybe it's the lack of a magic arse tattoo.

Either way I'm not interested.

I walked over to the reception desk where a lone mare was working.

"Good morning sir," she asked with a bright smile, "How may we help you today?"

"Just my mane and tail need seeing to," I replied, "Some young punks thought it would be funny to pour syrup over them."

"Oh no!" the mare winced, "That's awful!"

"Yeah. Anyway, can you do something to tidy them up?"

"Of course. We should have a free slot in about twenty minutes."

---

*MEANWHILE*

"Are you serious?" Soarin asked, "That bum?"

"He's not a bum, Soarin," Spitfire replied, "He's just a guy down on his luck."

"But he's a loon!"

"Aren't we all?"

"This is serious, Captain!" Soarin snapped, "What will the Board of Directors say when they hear of this?"

"So long as the image of the Wonderbolts isn't brought into disrepute, then they won't care."

"How does giving a homeless crackpot a job with us not put our image image into disrepute?"

"Do you actually believe what that whackjob says?" Rainbow asked, giving her opinion on the matter, "Even the Princesses have said he's talking bull."

"I believe that he believes he's right."

"Captain-"

"Look!" Spitfire snapped, "I know he's a bit of a crackpot, but he's down on his luck. All he needs is for somepony to give him a break."

The other Wonderbolts looks around at one another, sharing unenthusiastic looks and scrunching their noses, clearly not impressed with the Captain's decision.

"And if he bucks up?" asked Fleetfoot, "Toss his plot out back onto the streets?"

"Only if it was serious enough, otherwise we'd accept he makes mistakes like any pony and can learn from them."

"Fine," Soarin replied, more as deferring to his superior's authority rather than because he wants to help, "So what will he be doing?"

"He'd be our personal assistant, which would give him privileged access not normally available to other workers."

"You really want a creepy super fan waltzing in to your office?" asked Fleetfoot.

"Super fan?" Spitfire queried, "I don't think he even likes the Wonderbolts."

"I mean a super fan of you."

"What makes you say he is?"

"Did you see his mane and tail? They're identical to yours. Sounds like a crazy super fan to me."

"I'm sure it's just a coincidence."

---

Some time later, I walked out of the spar feeling completely refreshed and rejuvenated. I walked through the foyer to the reception desk to pay my bill, only to see Spitfire and the Wonderbolts there, the latter bunch looking happy.

Suspiciously too happy.

"Hey there," Spitfire said, "You enjoy yourself?"

"I feel better," I replied, not taking my eyes off of the others, something Spitfire picked up on.

"You've met some of the gang already," she continued, "And don't worry about the bill. I've already paid it."

"Thanks. But what are these lot doing here? They look too happy for my liking."

Spitfire laughed, "They would be. But we're here to offer you a job."

"A job?" I repeated, not expecting it.

"To be our personal lackey," Fleetfoot replied, clearly relishing the prospect, "You run around doing errands for us."

"Bollocks to that," I replied.

"What?!" Skittles snapped, "Care to repeat that, buster?"

"Calm down, Crash," Spitfire replied.

"Crash?" I repeated, "And you mock me for dodgy flying?"

"You'll be getting a hoof in your face if you don't cool it, buster!"

"Cool it, Dash!" Spitfire replied, frowning.

Skittles backed off and Spitfire looked back to me and placed a hoof on my shoulder, "Look, you don't have to accept, but if you do, come to Wonderbolt HQ."

"I'll consider it."

"That's all I ask," she replied, "See you around, Hawker."

The gang left, Skittles giving me the stink-eye as she did so, leaving me at the reception desk, when I realised that the receptionist was looking at me in shock.

"What?"

"You don't want to join the Wonderbolts?"

"Not as their personal lackey. Certainly not when they would take advantage of it to the extreme."

"Why would they do that?"

"Let's just say I've had a run in with them previously."

"Oh," she replied, "Well I must say I like your mane. You must be a huge fan of Spitfire."

"Why would I be?" I queried, genuinely confused.

"Your mane and tail are exactly the same as hers."

Are they? I honestly hadn't noticed. Though my mane and tail where a mess before they were tidied up and I hadn't exactly looked in a mirror before hand, so maybe they were. No doubt I will get stick for this though.

"Oh, well it's just a coincidence. I haven't had it styled like that. It's just how they are. Honest."

The mare smiled and 'hm-hmm'd' as if to say 'Yeah, sure'.

Anyway, I said goodbye and left, making my way back to my room to grab my things before checking out. All on the house courtesy of the owner. I entered my room and all of my things were organised neatly in the corner of the room, along with a new fleece with an envelope on top. Trotting over I picked up the envelope, opened it and took out the contents. A note and something else inside a card.

Hey Hawker,

While you were busy having yourself look pretty,

I rolled my eyes. Damn Spitfire.

I got you a new fleece. Also, the job offer I will have made to you is serious. Don't take any notice of what the others will say, you won't be waiting on us 24/7 for every little thing. We have a show coming up in a few days in Las Pegasus. In the Wonderbolts card are a ticket for a VIP Pass and train ticket. If you want to go, go. If not, then I we hope to see you around some time. Also, as the show isn't for another four days I've already paid for you to have your room until then, and added a few extra bits for food.

Yours,

Spitfire

P.S. I wrote this before meeting you at the spa, hence the future tense of this letter.

P.P.S. I love your mane and tail.

"It's just a coincidence!"

---

Four uneventful days passed and I had decided to go to the show. Why not? It wasn't costing me anything. The train ticket was for an overnight service to Las Pegasus with my own cabin with tea and breakfast included with an on board bar. Though I had to pay extra for booze. I was waiting at Vanhoover Waterfront train station for my train which was due to leave at 20.32. It was currently 19.45 so it gave me plenty of time to have a drink or two before departing.

Which would be made all the more pleasant if ponies weren't constantly staring at my flanks. I know I'm good looking, but still...

I turned around the face them.

"Don't you perverts have any else to do other than stare at my flanks?"

Most turned away, looking embarrassed at being caught. Others just didn't get the message.

"Why are you a blank flank?" asked an idiot stallion at the table next to me.

"Because I am."

"Why don't you have a cutie mark?"

Isn't that essentially the same question?

"I don't need one."

"Why?"

"I know what I'm good at."

"But if you were good at it, you would have a cutie mark showing it."

"Ponies don't get magic arse tattoo's where I come form."

"Uhhh, they're called cutie marks, not...not that naughty word you used."

"Naughty word?" I asked, quite perplexed. I'm sure I didn't swear. And was I talking to a child or an adult?

The stallion nodded.

I racked my brain for a few moments and realised I was indeed dealing with a child. Albeit a large, old one, "You mean arse?"

The stallion, and a few other ponies, winced.

"For fucks sake," I replied, watching them wince even more uncomfortably in delight, "Are you soft skinned shite-stains so delicate you can't tolerate a word like arse? Fuck me."

"Please don't say naughty words," the stallion whimpered, "It's hurting my ears."

"I don't give a fuck."

"Sir, please-"

"Is there a problem here?"

For fuck's sake.

I barely had time to respond when I saw a familiar face in front of me.

"Why are you causing trouble again?"

"I wasn't. These perverts around me were ogling my plot. I told them to cut it out."

"I heard you swearing."

"So? It's not illegal."

"No. But disturbing the peace is."

"Why don't you just trot along kid?" I said more as a command, "You-"

"Excuse me?!" she snarled, getting right into my face, "Remember who you're talking to!"

"I do. An over-zealous rookie who who's letting her power go to her head."

"Curb your tongue civilian or you will be spending some time in the slammer."

"Fuck off, little girl. The only one causing a scene here, is you."

"That's it. You're coming with me!"

"No I'm not. I'm going on a train."

"Oh? And how exactly do you plan to do that? You can't even afford a ticket."

"With this," I replied, showing my ticket.

"And where did you get that?"

"Spitfire gave it too me."

"Captain Spitfire? Of the Wonderbolts?"

I nodded.

"Sure she did. Do you have proof?"

"Yes," I replied, showing her the letter and getting rather tired of her attitude.

She snatched the letter out of my hoof, almost ripping it, and read it.

After a few seconds she looked back at me. Suspiciously.

"How do I know this is genuine?"

"Why are you being like this?"

"Like what?"

"Looking for things that are wrong that you know there's nothing wrong with?"

"I'm just doing my job."

"Like you did at Hay Burger?"

Her eyes reduced to pinpricks, momentarily startled by my response. Almost like she knew she acted inappropriately.

"You didn't even let me give my side of the story. You just joined in on the side of those reprobate delinquents and the troglodyte burger flipper."

"Don't tell me how to do my job."

"I wouldn't need to if you did your duty correctly."

The pig pony didn't respond, looking at wide eyed again. In her moment of inattention I grabbed back the letter and put it in my saddle bag and began to leave.

"You can't leave!"

"Why? No crime has been committed."

"I'm talking to you."

"Am I under arrest?"

"No."

"Then good day to you."

I immediately took to the air, giving me an immediate advantage over the Earthling.

"Get back down here!"

I began to look around and in my confrontation with the pig I hadn't noticed we had drawn a crowd. I took no notice of her, who was still demanding I come back down, and made my way to the platform where my train would be waiting. I landed back on the ground as I approached the ticket barrier and looking behind, expecting to see the angry mare chasing after me, instead saw her being lead away and spoken too by what looked like a more senior officer.

---

I eventually made it to Las Pegasus and checked into another budget hotel before deciding to take a sight seeing tour around the city. Day time was nothing special, but nighttime was admittedly impressive, just like Las Vegas, and the stadium where the performance would be was an even more impressive sight. Looking down below I could see thousands of ponies mingling around outside and inside, the atmosphere electrifying. Not wanting to look like I was trying to sneak in, I landed on the ground and began to look for the VIP entrances.

And once more, I was attracting looks on my lack of arse branding.

"Excuse me, sir?"

I turned around and saw a most unwanted sight.

A press pony.

Before I could even answer, a bright flash engulfed my vision. Her damn photographer just blasted his flash right in front of me.

"What?" I asked, trying to blink my vision back into focus.

"Do you have a few moments to answer a few questions?"

"No."

"But sir, I work for the Canterlot News Network."

"And?"

I tried to ignore her and walk away but the damn bitch just followed me.

"Sir, why do you not have a cutie mark?"

"Piss off."

"Is it because you have no talent?"

"Get lost before I shove that recorder up your plot."

"Do you anger issues stem from not having a cutie mark?"

"My anger issues stem from nosy ponies who have extremely narrow world views."

"Are you good at anything?"

"Making chocolate. Now will you leave me the fuck alone?"

"So why do you not have a cutie mark to reflect that?"

"You asked what I was good at, not what my special talent is."

"But..." the reporter continued, "How can you be sure you're good at it if you don't have a cutie mark?"

"I don't need a mark on my arse to know what my abilities are."

"But-"

"You see, this is the issue I have with Equestrians," I snarled, getting into her face, "Your belief that you must have a 'cutie mark' to know what you are good at is so deeply ingrained that you can't conceive of managing without one. You see those without one as beneath you, that because they don't have one that they mustn't be good at anything."

"But if they did have a special talent then they would have a cutie mark," the reporter replied.

"Jesus Fucking Christ! You're unbelievable!"

I shook my head and began to walk away, only to be chased after the mare.

"Who is this Jesus Fucking Christ?"

"Get lost!"

"I have more questions!"

"I've better things to do than to answer questions to red top 'journalists' who crave far too much enjoyment in brown nosing the Sun Bitch's plot!"

The mare looked at me and snarled aggressively, "How dare you speak of our Princess, your Princess in such a manner!"

"That bitch isn't my Princess. I'm not even an Equestrian citizen."

"Oh? Then where do you come from? Another planet?"

"Yes, actually."

"Perfect," the mare replied, smiling and trying not to laugh, "This is going to make a great article."

"Oh really. You can't do real journalism so you retort to making a mockery of other ponies by twisting their words into sensationalised bullshit that panders to the lowest common denominator?."

"I've no idea what those words mean but the only one making a fool of you is yourself, good bye, blank flank."

I watched her fly away with her twat of a photographer who was grinning like a Cheshire cat who managed to get in one last photo before leaving.

"Media scum."

I soon found the VIP entrances and made my way over, flashing my ticket to the stewards on duty. Thankfully they said nothing abut my lack of cutie mark. There was still some time before the show started so I decided to head to the bar in the VIP lounge for a quick pint, passing some nobles along the way. I got my pint and went to sit at a table overlooking the field below and the tens of thousands of fans already inside the stadium, cheering and chanting as they waited for the show.

Sadly, my peace was disturbed by yet another unwelcome presence.

"Hello darling," Rarity said, eyeing me up like a vulture ready to pounce, "Come to ask to be a live ponyquin again?"

I turned around to face she she-demon, "No I haven't, so fuck off."

"Ugh!" she huffed, stomping a hoof on the floor, "You are such an uncouth brutish colt! I should teach you some manners in how to act like a gentlecolt!"

"Wouldn't dainty lady be more appropriate?" Applejack asked, "He did model some pretty dresses for you, after all."

"As I recall," I replied, my anger rising as the girls began laughing amongst themselves, "Twilight froze me in place and the only reason I crashed was because your psycho pink basket case friend appeared in front of me without warning, forcing me to take evasive action."

"Firstly," Rarity replied, "It's Princess Twilight, and secondly-"

"Shut the fuck up."

I turned to leave only to come face to face with an most unwelcome sight at the most inconvenient of times.

"Shit."

"How dare you swear at me!" Twilight scolded, "How dare you swear at my friends!"

"Why don't you run along and reorganise your library again."

"I did that this morning."

"Whatever. Good day."

I went to leave only to find myself magically lifted back over to in front of Twilight, trying to look intimidating but failing due to lack of height, She's shorter than me for crying out loud. That and she doesn't have that aura of 'screw with me and you won't live long enough to regret it'.

"What are you doing here?" she asked.

"Spitfire invited me. Not that it's any of your business."

"I am a Princess of Equestria. It is my business to know what it is you are doing."

"No it's not."

"It is. Show me your VIP pass!"

"Why?"

"Because I said so."

"Do you really think I would be here if I didn't have the necessary pass to get past security?"

"I don't know. Considering your history if making up crazy stories-"

"Everything I have said is true."

"Oh nelly," Applejack replied, shaking her head and trying not to laugh, "Here he goes again."

"I think we may need to arrange some sessions with Lyra," Rarity added.

"Lyra can go and do one," I replied.

"Doctor Heartstrings has only your well being in mind," Twilight replied, "You would do well to listen to her."

"Lyra's a crazy bitch who needs a padded room and straight jacket herself. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going-"

"You're not going anywhere until you apologise to my friends."

"I've nothing to apologise for."

There was several seconds of silence as Twilight tried to stare me into apologising, but like the weak leader she is, she backed down.

"Princess Celestia will hear of this."

"Oooh, I'm so scared of what a cake addict will do."

---

I watched the show from my VIP box, thankfully with no more interruptions. Admittedly, the show was great. The stunts, the lighting effects, the music all choreographed to perfection. Clearly Spitfire drills her subordinates hard. I continued to watch as the Wonderbolts landed centre stage, lapping up the applause. Skittles to an extreme degree.

I thought that that would be that, however I saw Twilight and her moronic friends approach the stage, where Twilight soon took the microphone.

Have you ever had that feeling that something is about to not go your way?

I was having that feeling right about now.

"Good evening mares and gentlecolts," Twilight said, "First I must say, that I speak for everypony here when I say to the Wonderbolts that that was a fantastic performance."

The crowd erupted into cheers and stomped their hooves, I just remained resting an elbow on the railing, propping my head up with a hoof. I couldn't care less what that sycophant has to say. I should have paid more attention however, as without warning I suddenly found myself surrounded by a bright light.

Coming to my senses, I saw the Master of Ceremonies approach, a Pegasus. Not that I could miss him with his huge cheesy grin with pearly white teeth and bright blue sequined jacket.

"Congratulations sir!" he said, his voice booming around the stadium, "You have won!"

The crows erupted into cheers again. I just looked around completely perplexed.

"Won what?"

The crowd burst into laughter, as did the MoC.

"Well, a chance to join the Wonderbolts onstage and fly some laps around the stadium with them!"

The crowd cheered and the MoC was beckoning me to join him. I don't think the crowd was expecting me to give the answer I did.

"No thanks."

The gasps could have sucked the stadium dry of oxygen.

"You...you don't want to fly with the Wonderbolts?!"

I shook my head.

"Why not?"

"I have my reasons, of which I won't be sharing."

The crowd began booing, clearly not impressed with having my own opinions and desires. The MoC, in fairness, tried to salvage the situation.

"Well, I'm sure the reasons are-"

"May I? Master of Ceremonies?" I heard Twilight say, remaining centre stage but talking to the entire stadium using her overrated magic.

The MoC looked to Twilight and smiled happily, "Certainly, Princess."

"Thank you," she replied, before turning her attention to me, "If you don't wish to join the Wonderbolts on stage, then would you like to join me?"

I didn't, but I knew telling a Princess to go and do one in front of thousands of ponies wouldn't help me in the present time. Or at any point in the future.

Reluctantly, I got up; trying to hide my anger.

"Fine."

The crowd cheered again and I followed the MoC down to the centre stage landing just in front of Twilight. I could tell by the smug looks on her and her friend's faces that my night was about to take a nose dive.

"Greetings," she said, being as 'Princessy' as possible, "It's a pleasure to meet you."

"I'm sure it is."

"I thought I recognised you. My mentor, Princess Celestia has told me much about you."

What?

"I've never met your Princess."

"Oh? Did you not go to her recently and tell her of your amazing stories?"

"Stories?"

"Of aliens on another world?" she said, clearly relishing in trying to humiliate me, "She said the stories sounded fascinating."

"I'm not a story writer," I replied.

"Princess Celestia seems to disagree. She said the premise of them sounded exciting and was wondering when you would be publishing them."

"Never."

"Never?"

"I'm not a story writer," I repeated, "Everything I told you was true! But if writing stories is what it takes to convince you I'm being truthful then so be it! I'll write my world's history into stories so all can see that I was always right! The Spanish Armada! The Battle of Britain! The Battle of Waterloo! The Apollo Moon Landings! The Titanic! The Gunpowder Plot! History will be my oyster!"

The crowd began cheering wildly, more so than before. I looked around and saw those around e acting very differently. The Wonderbolts were slack jawed, sans Spitfire who was smiling happily, while the girls looked happy, but their smiles came across as disingenuous. Except Pinkie, who was bouncing up and down excitably.

Wondering what the commotion was, Twilight pointed to my flank. I turned my head to see something I didn't want to see.

My cutie mark.

One related to me saying I would tell stories.

Of all the times my magic arse tattoo had to make itself known, it would have to have been then.

---

After that happened, I quickly left the stage knowing full well that my new asset would only convince the others that I was indeed a crackpot. I was making my way back to the VIP lounge for much needed booze when I saw two Solar Guards approach, both with faces like a wet weekend.

"Hawker Hurricane, their Highness's have summoned you to the Royal Booth. Come with us at once."

"No."

"Excuse me!" the guard replied, looking even more scowly, "Did you just refuse a summons from the Princesses?

"Yes. I'm not one of their subjects, they can't summon me."

"Yes you are their subject and you will appear as summoned!"

---

The guards semi-forced me down the hallway to what was the Royal Booth. They opened the door and forced me inside and shoved me in front of Celesta and Luna. And Twilight who was looking smug as ever, like a good teacher's pet.

"Apologies for the tardiness, Princesses, but the subject refused your summons."

"Oh he did, did he?" queried Luna, scowling harshly at me, "Then our subject will be punished severely."

I rolled my eyes. Luna is such a touchy snowflake.

"No he won't, Luna," Celestia replied, approaching me, "Good evening, Hawker Hurricane."

"What do you want?"

"Watch your tongue, subject," Luna scolded, "Lest you wish to spend time in the castle dungeons!"

"Fuck off."

"HOW DARE-"

"Luna! Calm yourself," Celestia said sternly before turning her attention back to me, "Please do not speak to us in such a manner, it-"

"Why not? You spoke to me like I was dirt when I came to see you."

"We have told you before, Mr Hurricane, what you say is not true. You have always been a pony."

"No I haven't! What I've told you is the truth, no matter how absurd or outrageous it may seem."

"Yet your cutie mark shows that your talent is making up stories."

"What I said actually happened. What is fact for one is fiction for another. This idiotic mark is just a damned inconvenience!"

"You don't have to pretend any more, Mr Hurricane," Celestia replied in a condescending tone, "In fact, I could arrange for you to receive a stipend whilst you write your stories, with Twilight at hoof to help."

"Why would I want that shut-in to help me with anything?"

Celestia, and Twilight, scowled at me, "Twilight is not a shut-in."

"Whatever, besides I've already been offered a job."

"Oh, who with?"

"The Wonderbolts. Spitfire offered me a job as a personal assistant to the flight team."

"And you have accepted?"

"Might as well. At least I'll have a roof over my head and three meals a day."

All three Princesses blinked.

"What?" Celestia asked.

"I've been homeless ever since I got to Equestria, and because I didn't have a magic arse tattoo no-one would give me a job."

"You've been homeless?"

"Yes. How could you not know?"

"Don't you have family that could have taken you in?"

"My family are back on Earth. I have no family here. No friends either."

"Of course you have family. A real family here in Equestria and not one that only exists in your head."

"Really? Who are they then?"

"You don't know who your own family are?"

"I know exactly who my family are. I don't know who my fake pony family are. No doubt whoever they are will have been paid by you to pretend to be as such."

"I would never do such a thing," she replied, pretending to look hurt and offended.

"Sure you won't. Now if there's nothing else, I'm leaving."

I flew away, not caring if I offended them or not and headed back to my hotel. My night ruined.

---

"I still say that we throw him in the dungeons!" Luna yelled, "He'll get shelter and three meals a day then!"

"I am not putting an innocent pony in the dungeons, Luna," Celestia replied, "Mr Hurricane is lost and confused and needs our help."

"I'd still like to help him, Celestia," Twilight said, "And I think some session with Dr Heartstrings would help."

"Very well, " Celestia replied, "Help him Twilight, but I advise against forcing any meeting with Dr Heartstrings. To do so may only push him further away, and make it harder to help him in the future."

---

"What did I tell you?" Soarin asked, taking off his flight-suit, "He's a crackpot!"

"But-"

"Look Cap," Fleetfoot interrupted, "We know you only want to help him, but his cutie mark appeared when he said he would write stories. And from what Crash has told us, what more proof do you need?"

Spitfire sighed deeply, "Even if he is a basket case, I still made the job offer and it still stands."

"Fine," Soarin replied, "But when he damages the image of the Wonderbolts-"

"He won't," Spitfire said, frowning slightly, "I'm sure of it."

---

*THE FOLLOWING MORNING*

"Oh shit," I said, as I looked at the front page of The Canterlot Times

BLANK FLANK CLAIMS TO BE FROM ANOTHER WORLD
DISRESPECTS OUR GREAT PRINCESS CELESTIA

I read the article, and everything I said was there. To make matters worse, the media scum journalist had already made arrangements to broadcast what she recorded of my words on the radio.

How do I know?

An angry mob of ponies where waiting outside the hotel, just waiting for me to come out.

And the same journalist was reporting live from outside, as I listened inside.

"Will the crazy stallion who disrespected our great and wonderful Princess ever come out? Stay tuned as we give round the clock coverage.

Just then there was a knock at the door.

I went over and answered it, seeing the hotel manager with a security guard.

"Mr Hurricane, I'm afraid that I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

---

*MEANWHILE, AT WONDERBOLT HQ, SPITFIRE'S OFFICE*

"I told you so," Soarin said as he watched Spitfire face plant onto her desk, as the radio continued to broadcast.

Comments

[StarzGecko]

Is it me or these ponies don’t just use a memory spell? Like Luna could easily go to his mind and see for herself

I think he needs to do more then just right history... He should advance other countries just to mess with Equestria

[VisAquilarum]

I think that this chapter's main point is fear. Ponies fear what is strange or different to them, as do all living creatures. The problem I have with ponykind in the series is that instead of coming to know others out of something as simple as curiosity, they have a knack of portraying themselves as a bigotted and racist species. Instead of conquering their fears and preconceptions, they cower and rot in them. Do not take what I say as a kind of absolute truth, for I consider myself to be an ignorant fool. This is what I understood by watching some episodes of My Little Pony: Frendship is Magic.

[Chrome Masquerade]

*MEANWHILE*

Like, at the same time!

[Chrome Masquerade]

"Oooh, I'm so scared of what a cake addict will do."