A few days later
“The sacred D’s, boy; dodge, duck, dip, dive, and dodge.” The god of dodgeball cocked his arm back to let loose another wrench. “If you’re too damn stupid to remember these five things, just remember to dodge.”
Spike glared back at his teacher and continued the mantra. “Without dodge, you don’t have dick, and you might as well suck on one if you play and don’t dodge.”
The wrench glowed an evil green color as it left the hand of its thrower. The tool bounced like a spinning rubber ball when it ricocheted off the dirt of the playing field.
Off to the side, Twilight fought the urge to intervene once again. No matter how many times the wrenches were thrown at her ward, it did not become easier to watch.
The dragon’s body was tired and ached despite the enchanted armor he wore. But if he was being honest with himself, there was no other place he’d rather be right now. Spike dived out of the way of the bouncing emerald wrench and tucked himself into a roll. A grin split the dragon’s face when he came down on all fours. He could hear the spanner strike the earthen mound behind him with a dull thud. The smug look on his face was short-lived when he saw a second larger wrench coming straight for his face.
“Spike!” Twilight shrieked. She looked away burying her face into her hooves.
Time slowed as the dodgeball captain finished the chant. “Dodge is the alpha and the omega in the cosmic game of dodgeball. If you can master the art of the dodge, the rest of the D’s are easier than a twenty-dollar hooker at Mardi Gras.” Spike put his entire mass behind the effort of getting his body to move. He could feel the wind coming off the fast-moving instrument as it barely missed his naked tail. His muscles screamed when he pushed himself back up onto his clawed feet, ready for the next onslaught of wrenches.
CLANK
Spike recoiled and overbalanced from the impact of the blow. He fell to his haunches and looked through the slit in his helmet. Patches was still where he had been twenty paces away, his bag of wrenches empty. “Remember, son. There’ll be more than one asshole throwing balls at you during the big show.”
“What?” Spike muttered angrily. “But who . . .?”
He looked off to his side and there was the Green Leper. Decked out in armor similar to Spike’s, the emerald dragon was beaming at his smaller cousin. He lazily tossed a pipe wrench high up in the air and caught it by its handle without looking at it. “You are improving brother Spike. You have come a long way in a short time.” The benchwarmer turned and called into the bleachers, “You can look now, sister Twilight. He is unharmed, well, and doing better than ever.”
The alicorn peeked through the gap in her hooves and sighed in relief.
The lavender dragon’s ire melted when he heard the praise from the older player. “Thanks.” His stomach started to growl as soon as the word left his mouth. “Can we take a break now? I’m hungry.”
With a snap of his wrinkled fingers, the wrenches strewn all about the buckball court returned to the sack beside the leprechaun. “The only thing you’ll be chewing on is my 30 millimeter Craftsman with a cheater bar.” It was at this time Patches’s stomach let out a loud moan of anguish. He sighed, “Fine, chow break. But be careful.” The dodgeball coach patted the sack full of heavy projectiles. “Some of these wrenches don’t care if you’re on break or not.”
Moments later, the four had gathered on a picnic blanket on a grassy hill across the buckball pitch. There were other ponies about in their area of Ponyville, but the onlookers were giving them a wide berth. Mainly because the foul-mouthed leprechaun terrified them, and the green leper smelled like rancid piss. The fact that that was exactly what the dragon was drinking did not help with the smell. Twilight and Spike had gotten more used to the newcomer’s eating and drinking habits, but no amount of time could get them completely over it. Most days the two ate together away from Patches and his adopted son underneath the shade of an apple tree. But today, Spike sat with the dodgeball god and his herald.
Munching on an amethyst between his claws, Spike asked between mouthfuls, “So, can I start picking my team now?”
Patches paused, knife and fork in hand ready to demolish an enormous plate of corned beef. “Yes,” he replied, stabbing a section of the meaty dish with his fork. Fat and all, he crammed a juicy section of protein goodness into his mouth. After swallowing he said, “Don’t get me wrong. You’re still a shit sandwich.”
“Hey!” Twilight called, face buried in a hay burger.
The leprechaun held up a hand to forestall Twilight’s wrath. “He’s a shit sandwich, but he’s not a soggy one.”
Green Leper dropped his mug of yellow liquid and gaped at his dad. “Father, are you serious?”
Patches nodded, and continued eating.
The older dragon smiled happily at Spike. “Oh my goodness, brother Spike. That is the highest praise I have ever heard my father give anycreature in Equestria.”
“Really?” asked Spike and Twilight at the same time in different tones. Spike with pride and Twilight with disbelief and disgust.
“It’s true,” declared the dodgeball deity. The leprechaun wiped his mouth on his sleeve and then pointed a fork at his adopted son. “My boy here could wipe the floor with you, but you’re coming along. And maybe, just maybe we got a fighting shot of winning this thing.”
Spike frowned. “Why isn’t he Captain then?”
Patches shook his head. “That wasn’t his job. I needed him to find my captain, to go out into this realm of horseflesh and find the best stallion he could that believed in this crap about a cosmic game.” The leprechaun sighed and with a snap of his finger his meal and dinnerware were gone. “But time is not on our side and game day approaches. So, now we have you. After fourteen years, you’re the only one who invoked my name three times in a mirror with a full heart. I’ll be blunt, son, you’re not much to look at, and you’re still green as my foot fungus. But you’re a believer. You got the guts and nuts of a Joe if I’ve ever saw one. So, since you’re Captain and have shown a small degree of dodging finesse, I leave the choosing of the rest of the team in your claws.”
Spike had nearly forgotten the rest of the gem he had been munching on. He was hanging on his coach’s every word. When his new mentor had finished talking, it felt like a great weight had been placed on his small shoulders. He felt a hoof take his small claw.
“Don’t worry, Spike. You’ll do fine,” said Twilight confidently.
The baby dragon smiled up at his old teacher. “Thanks.” Then a thought occurred to him. “Hey Twilight, do you want to join the team?”
The alicorn didn’t hesitate. “To quote Rarity, ‘It’s not my cup of tea, darling.’ But if that’s what you want, I’ll play. And besides, saving the world is part of being a Princess.”
“F*#k the world. You’re playing for the fate of the universe, honey,” stated Patches.
“Language!” shouted the Princess of Friendship.
“Hey, Patches. How many can be on a team?” asked Spike.
“Twelve, but only six are allowed on the field. And your scaly ass has to be on the pitch. If the captain’s not playing, then we forfeit. And God won’t shut up about how I screwed up for the next thousand years.”
Spike raised a cup to his lips. “Don’t worry. I’ll be there.” After taking a drink, he set the cup back down on its saucer. He wanted to ask more questions, but he heard a loud clanking sound off in the distance. Moments passed, and the noise intensified.
“What’s that?” asked the Green Leper.
Patches cracked the knuckles of his hands. “I was wondering when they were going to show up.”
“Who?” asked Twilight.
“The competition,” answered Patches.
Dozens of ponies ran past the picnickers as the mechanical booming got closer. The two dragons and alicorn looked nervously at each other while Patches sat calmly regarding the horizon.
And then it came into view. A flag, a black, white, and gray Saint Andrew’s cross with a spider at its center came over the hill, but what carried the banner was a sight to behold. An 80 foot tall machine advanced on eight metal legs, leaving deep debits in the grass.
Instinctively, Twilight summoned a purple shield with her magic, surrounding herself and her three companions.
Patches smirked. “Princess, if I can get through your little paper shield, what’s coming can do it, too.”
The pony glared at Patches before grudgingly lowering the force field.
“Don’t worry. They won’t hurt us. If they do, they forfeit the game,” said Patches calmly. After a moment he added, “The same goes for us if we mess up their faces.”
Soon, the smoke-belching spider came to a halt in front of the dodgeball team. The head of the metal arachnid dipped down as if to regard the specimens before it. Just behind the monster’s scalp, a wheelchair-bound man in a golden pickelhaube helmet sat at the creature’s controls. “Well, if it isn’t Patches O’Houlihan as I live and breathe,” declared the newcomer in a thick southern twang.
“Loveless,” answered Patches inclining his head.
“Who is that?” asked Spike, awed by the presence of the massive contraption in front of him.
“Dr. Miguelito Quixote Loveless. He’s the coach of the other team.”
Loveless laughed and doffed his helmet in salutation. “Why Patches, I’m much more than that. But that can wait. I’m more interested in what we have here.”
The human’s black eyes regarded the ones surrounding the leprechaun. He pointed a gloved hand at the Green Leper. “I’m assuming that strapping gator there is your captain?” Loveless licked his lips. “I could make a mighty tasty gumbo out of his luscious hide.”
Patches shook his head. “Apparently Satan didn’t fix your eyes or your feet when Jim West fertilized the Utah soil with your half an ass. Clearly that’s a dragon. And no, he’s not the captain.”
Loveless’ smile faltered. “Indeed.” Next the black-haired man regarded the alicorn. “A Princess?” The former Confederate stroked his neatly trimmed beard. “Now Patches, you know that flying and magic are forbidden in the Cosmic Game. And really, doesn’t she have anything better to do than captain for the losing side?”
“I don’t need flight or spells to beat you,” answered the green clad coach. “She has four legs which is four more than what you got, Stumpy.”
“Wait a second,” said Spike slowly. “We’re not allowed to fly or use magic?”
Patches looked at his pupil curiously. “Of course not. The game is perfect the way it is. If we go throwing A-10s and scalp boners into the mix, God and Steve would have to change the rules.”
“His name is Satan, you Snot Goblin,” Loveless shouted down from his spider. “Show some respect.”
“My apologies, Dr. Nutless.”
Loveless stared down at his opposite number, eyes narrowed in contempt. Slowly he turned the head of his tall mechanical mount until it was looking at a white-bricked building across the buckball pitch. With a pull of a lever, the cannons underneath the Spider’s chin roared. The report from the blast was deafening.
Patches whirled around to see the colts’ locker room had exploded into a thousand thousand pieces. Standing in the middle of the destroyed building was a very surprised Big Mac washing his underarms.
“Now where were we?” asked Loveless. The Spider’s head resumed pointing out into open space. He grinned down at Twilight. “Madame Horse, are you the Captain of this here team?”
“No,” Twilight said through clenched teeth.
Loveless’s eyes widened at this revelation. He gazed at Spike. “Well, I do declare. This is very interesting. Please excuse me for a moment.”
The four members of God’s dodgeball team exchanged curious glances and waited. From within the bowels of the giant mechanized arachnid, the sound of turning gears could be heard. With a loud thunk, a large circular platform descended from the Spider’s center. On it was a tittering Dr. Loveless. Like Patches, Loveless was wheelchair bound. However, where Patches’s legs were withered and near useless, Loveless had no legs to speak of. The wooden platform supported by iron chains came to a halt when it touched the ground. With a push of a lever the Doctor advanced off the platform, his steam-powered wheelchair exhaling black smoke. Arms opened in greeting, Loveless advanced towards Spike. Twilight’s horn glowed in readiness as she tracked the enemy coach.
“So,” Loveless said eyeing Spike up and down. “By process of elimination, which is by far my favored process, you are the Captain of God’s most holy dodgeball team.”
Spike noted the stubby shotgun barrels on Loveless’s wheelchair. He returned his focus to the crippled man and nodded. “I am.”
Loveless tried unsuccessfully to suppress a chuckle but failed. Instead he started clapping his hands together like he was at a golf tournament. “Lovely, just lovely.”
“What’s so funny?” asked Patches.
Dr. Loveless took off his helmet and dabbed at his forehead with a gray handkerchief. “My dear leprechaun, how long exactly did it take you to find this here Captain?”
Patches drew breath to speak but was cut off.
“Now keep in mind, one of my many doctorates that I have procured over the years is in psychology, so I will know if you are showing me gold or pyrite.”
“Four days ago.”
Loveless raised an eyebrow at the alicorn.
“Spike and I were contacted by Patches’s agent four days ago. Spike spoke Patches’s name three times into a mirror and . . .”
“Yes, yes, thank you, Sweetling. That’s all I wanted to know,” interrupted Loveless by holding up his hand. He returned the helmet to his head. “What amuses me, my friends, is I’ve only just recruited my own Captain a week ago.”
O’Houlihan gave his nemesis a sympathetic look. “It’s hard to get these grass sniffers and glass eaters to believe in the Cosmic Game.”
Loveless sighed, “You’re Preaching to the choir, brother. But it would appear we are close to an even footing.” With a flick of his wrist, the black-garbed man turned his chair and looked up into the spider. “Would y’all care to join us down here?” he asked.
Everyone waited for a reply, and it was not long in coming. Eleven human-like constructs from within the mechanical insect grabbed the chains supporting the platform. They descended like primates; hand over hand not bothering to use their legs. They dropped the last fifteen feet and stood with their master in a neat row. Each one was a mesh of twisted flesh and metal. The smell of sweat, blood, and motor oil reeked from each one of them. The newcomers regarded the Equestrians before them with passive interest. Dressed in little more than rags, their muscles budged underneath their tattered clothing.
Satan’s chosen coach turned his chair back around. With a smug look on his face, he lit a large black cigar with a brass lighter. “Like I said, close to even footing.”
“What’s the matter, Doc. Couldn’t find anyone real to join your team?” Spike almost glanced around to see who had asked the question. Till he realized he had.
The Doctor puffed on his stogy and regarded the little dragon. “There’s a murderous fire in you, boy. I like that. But, my captain and I have come to an understanding. My . . . associates here should be more than adequate to handle anything this land of mediocre horse flesh and starving gators can scrape together. Ain’t that right, Captain Cozy Glow?”
At the mention of her name, a winged filly with a peach coat and freckles lazily floated down to sit on one of Loveless’s wheelchair armrests.
“Correct as always, Doctor.” The evil pegasus smiled wickedly at her opposition.
While Spike and Twilight glared daggers at the demented child, Patches leaned over and whispered to the Green Leper, “Who the hell is the brat?”
The green drake patted himself down until he found a small leather bound book. “I know I’ve heard that name before,” he murmured to himself. The bench warmer licked his talons and flipped through several pages until he found what he was looking for. “Ah, she’s the one that drained all the magic in Equestria for a short time a few weeks ago, sire. She took over Twilight’s School of Friendship for a brief time before she was defeated. She is a master of manipulation and is as ambitious as they come.”
Twilight turned to give the Emerald herald a surprised look. “Do you have notes on everypony in Equestria?”
The Green Leper shrugged bashfully. “Well . . . yes and no. Scouting for the Captain of God’s holy Dodgeball team demands copious amounts of research and study on ponies, dragons, and other creatures.” The emerald fire-breather turned his attention to the eleven 7 foot tall monsters standing behind Loveless. “For instance, I know that the one standing third to the left is a changeling.”
Loveless in response exhaled blue smoke through his nostrils. “Is that right?”
“Yes, it is,” replied the drake confidently. “Even in disguise, a changeling cannot completely hide the musk they secret whenever they alter their persons. It’s not a pungent scent, all but invisible to ponies, but obvious to dragons who know what to smell for. I almost missed it in the midst of the other odors coming from your associates.”
Twilight thought for a moment before aiming her horn at the brute third to the left. Lavender energy beamed forth and encompassed the large android. At once the changeling’s disguise was lifted like a shroud. The bug-like pony hissed and spat at the alicorn.
“Now, now, Mandible, we’ll have none of that,” chided Loveless. “The green bookworm did his homework and should be commended.”
“Yes, Doctor,” Mandible replied glaring at the enemy team.
Loveless puffed a couple more times on his cigar before extinguishing it in an ashtray built into his wheelchair. He looked up at the Green Leper and declared, “If that little toad there hadn’t adopted you, I’d offer you the privilege of working for me and my crew.”
Patches and his son glanced at each other, surprise written on their faces.
“Don’t look so shocked, gentleman,” said Loveless. “Mandible is an excellent scout and herald. And his dissatisfied brothers and sisters make excellent informants on the comings and goings of you and yours. It appears harmony is not all it’s cracked up to be. And not to put too fine a point on it, it’s pretty obvious your family. I can smell your piss jugs from over here. Satan’s horns, you two need therapy.”
Before anyone else could reply, Loveless took out a pocket watch. “Well, would you look at the time? I am late for a very important date.” He smiled at the four Equestrians on the opposite team. “You wonderful people have a nice day. Lord knows they will be few and far between after the game.”