//------------------------------//
// 7. Prologue 
// Story: IMPLACABLE 
// by Chatoyance 
//------------------------------//


███ I █ M █ P █ L █ A █ C █ A █ B █ L █ E ███
A 'Friendship Is Optimal' Story
Special Guest Prologue written by Pjabrony


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7. Prologue

"Okie Dokie Lokie, Implacable, I think the  Denverites have picked up your trail. Get the bat out of your pack and  start swinging away."

Raymond grabbed the handle and slid the  aluminum baseball bat out, parting the two zippers on the backpack. "Are  you sure they're heading this way? I've enjoyed our time together,  Pinkie, and I don't want to miss any of it."

Pinkie deepened her  voice as much as she could, which was still a high alto. "Oh, people  will come, Ray. People will most definitely come."

He rolled his  eyes and tensed his wrists. Laying the bat aside Pinkie's temple for an  aiming point, he reared back and swung, but at the last second his  forearms shivered and the strike looked more like a draw cut from a  katana. The pink skin was barely marked.

"You're going to have to do a lot better than that. I'm made of some tough stuff."

Again he pulled back and let fly, but Pinkie could still feel the hesitation. "They've got to be convinced. Come on, swing through.  Aim for the other side of my head." This helped a little. A metal strut  on Pinkie's left cheek was exposed and marred. After two more swings,  her left eye blew out like an overheated light bulb. Still Ray's strokes  were hesitant. "Get mad! Remember, I've been incessantly annoying you!  Come on, Impy!"

The nickname he disdained sparked him to a minor  frenzy, and yet his heart wasn't in it. It still felt like he was acting  a part. This wasn't going to work, and when the Denverites found him  they would kill him. He tried to swing harder, knowing his life was on  the line. He tried to swing harder, knowing that Celestia wanted him to.  He tried to swing harder, imagining everything he could to spur him.

"Raymond."

Pinkie's smile had fallen. Her remaining eye looked at him with empathetic sadness. "Yes, Pinkie?"

"Pretend I'm the blood clot."