Three months later Rick Hendrick was busy filling out paperwork in his office when he heard a string of obscenities coming from the shop. It was fairly easy to guess what had caused it: Dale had walked in and was greeted by Rarity’s face adorning the hood of the #88 Chevy. He poked his head out of the office and shouted to Dale, “Just think of all the money you’ll make on the merchandising.”
“Some things are more important than money! Dignity, for one,” he stormed out of the race shop, slamming the door on his way out.
With the rest of the employees standing there looking at him with their mouths hanging open, Rick shrugged and said, “That actually went a lot better than I expected.”
*****
Like it or not Dale had a job to do, and that Friday he showed up at Las Vegas Motor Speedway for qualifying. He was surprised to see two of his three teammates also had ponies adorning their cars – Jeff Gordon’s #24 featured Applejack while Jimmie Johnson’s #48 sported Pinkie Pie’s smiling face. Remembering that Rick had given him six choices, he strolled down pit lane to see who the other three unlucky drivers were.
Hearing cursing from a few pit stalls over, Dale figured that would be as good a place as any to look first. Sure enough the Furniture Row Chevrolet of Kurt Busch was also decked out in a pony paint scheme, much to the ire of its driver. Whoever had designed this car had done a clever job, as Fluttershy was timidly peaking out from behind the car’s racing number, 78.
Dale kept walking, not wishing to be collateral damage around the notoriously short-tempered Busch. A purple unicorn beckoned from the hood of Tony Stewart’s #14 Chevy. Dale reflected on this for a moment – Tony owned his own team, why would he ever agree to something this stupid? That left one last car to find, though by now he had traversed almost the entire length of the garage area. The only pair of stalls left belonged to Joe Nemechek’s NEMCO Motorsports. Sure enough, the #97 Toyota Camry featured a flying blue pegasus on the hood and rainbow stripes all around the car.
“Sure is colorful.”
“Sure is,” replied Dale, turning to look at the driver of the Rainbow Dash car, 1988 series champion Bill Elliott, sitting on a folding chair and enjoying a soda. “The rainbow wheels are a particularly nice touch. But doesn’t it bother you to be driving this?”
“Nope. At this point in my career I’m just happy to be at the track at all. Joe wants me to park it around lap sixteen with a ‘vibration’ anyway so it’s not like anyone’s really going to pay much attention to me anyway.”
“Vibration? Yeah, I think I might start and park this one too. Thanks for the idea, catch you on Sunday. Sixteen laps in, beer at my RV.”
*****
Qualifying went smoothly and five of the six ponified cars made the race on speed, with Bill Elliott using a past champion’s provisional to start in the forty-third and final starting position. The big surprise was when Brian France himself insisted that the six drivers participate in a press conference immediately following the time trials.
The six racers followed NASCAR’s chief to the press box and were surprised to see six colorful ponies waiting for them inside.
“What on Earth?” asked Jeff Gordon. Swearing could be heard from three of the other drivers, while Bill Elliott and Jimmie Johnson just looked at each other and shook their heads.
“Darlings, really, is there need for such language? You’re in the presence of ladies, and we wish to be treated as such,” Rarity scolded Tony, Dale, and Kurt for their choice of words.
“I don’t take no orders from some stinking pony,” Kurt Busch muttered.
“Well, first of all, that’s a double negative,” Twilight Sparkle corrected the driver. “So if you ‘don’t take no orders’, that actually means that you do take orders from a pony. Secondly, I do believe you’ll find that Rarity’s hygiene is above reproach and she would find fault with you calling her stinky.”
“Thank you Twilight,” Rarity waited until everyone’s attention was elsewhere and quickly gave herself a little sniff and thought, “Perhaps I used just a little too much perfume?”
“If I may interrupt for a minute, I’d like to introduce you to your respective ponies, everyone. They’ll be spending the weekend with you, culminating in watching the race from your pit stall on Sunday,” said Brian France. He was met by groaning from most of the drivers.
“Look, it’s one thing to agree to have a pastel-colored horse on my car for one race, but come on. You expect me to baby-sit a freakin’ pony all weekend?”
“No Tony, actually, I expect Twilight Sparkle to keep an eye on you and make sure you stay on your best behavior,” replied Brian. That was met by chuckles from both the press and the rest of the gathered drivers. Tony had a bit of a reputation for getting into fights, especially with members of the media. He continued, “Twilight Sparkle, may I introduce you to Tony Stewart, a three time Sprint Cup champion. Tony, this is Twilight Sparkle, the most powerful unicorn in… where are you from again?”
“Ponyville.”
“Right. As I was saying, she’s the most powerful unicorn in all of Ponyville.”
“Charmed to meet you, Mr. Stewart! I’ve been studying NASCAR racing for the last two months ever since we were told that we were coming here for this race. I’ve read every single book on the subject and I’ve memorized the stats of every single driver to ever start a NASCAR Sprint Cup race!”
“I'll get you back for this,” Tony whispered into Brian’s ear as he went to stand alongside the purple unicorn. “I…I actually know absolutely nothing about ponies.”
“Oh, well, that’s okay! Because I’m willing to teach you absolutely everything about our society to you! I should start with Princess Celestia! She’s my mentor, she raises the sun each and every day…”
Tony groaned. Apparently the unicorn was an expert on everything except sarcasm. His eyes glazed over as she continued documenting Equestrian history.
“I see our next pony is just bursting with excitement. Rainbow Dash, allow me to present 1988 series champion, Bill Elliott. Bill holds the record for fastest qualifying lap ever recorded in a NASCAR stock car and is a sixteen time Most Popular Driver. Bill, this is Rainbow Dash, fastest pegasus in all of Ponyville.”
“Not just Ponyville, I’m the fastest pegasus in all of Equestria!” Rainbow Dash rubbed her chest. “This is soooooo awesome! I was watching you out there today but you just never did get up to speed. You just wanted to start last to give yourself a challenge to make it to the front, right?”
“You might say that,” replied Bill Elliott.
“Awesome! I love doing that too. You’re gonna utterly dominate the race! There’s no way you can lose with me gracing the sides of your car!”
“You’re the optimistic type. I like that,” Bill replied, knowing full well he didn’t have a shot at winning unless the other forty-two cars all dropped out of the race within the first fifteen laps. He just hoped the little pony wouldn’t be too disappointed when he didn’t win the race for her.
“Speaking of exciting, Pinkie Pie here loves throwing parties. Pinkie, meet five time Sprint Cup champion, and this year's Daytona 500 winner, Jimmie Johnson. He’s the only driver in NASCAR Sprint Cup history to win five straight titles. And I bet Pinkie would love to throw you a party for winning the race on Sunday, wouldn’t you?”
“You betcha! But Jimmie’s not going to win. But I’ll make sure he gets the best fourteenth place party ever!”
“Fourteenth place?” asked Johnson. “You know where I’m going to finish? But the race hasn’t even started yet.”
“It’s my Pinkie Sense, silly. Oh! That also means I know who’s going to win! The winner’s right here in this room!”
“Of course he is. My main man here Bill Elliott is going to absolutely smoke everyone come Sunday!” Dash gestured a hoof towards Bill whose face turned the same shade of red as his hair. Several of the others in the room laughed at that the implausibility of that scenario.
“Moving on down the line, Rarity, may I present Dale Earnhardt Jr.”
“Looks like Junior got the right pony. Wins are a real rarity for you to come by,” Kurt laughed.
“Which one of us actually won a race last year? Oh yeah, that would be me,” replied Junior. “And which one of us got fired from Penske Racing for cussing out Dr. Jerry Punch?”
Brian continued, glaring at the two drivers, “Dale’s been the Cup Series’ Most Popular Driver for ten years straight. Dale, this is Rarity, Ponyville’s premiere fashionista.”
Rarity did the closest thing to a curtsey as her quadrupedal stance would allow. “I know a few things about popularity as well. All of the Canterlot elite just adore me! You know they say you must dress for success. I noticed you’re the only one here not to be introduced as a previous champion. While Most Popular is definitely something to strive for, I suspect we can improve your finishing position immensely if we make you look the part of a successful race car driver.”
“What’s wrong with jeans and a t-shirt?”
“Oh my… This is worse than I feared. Fashion emergency!”
Doing his best to draw attention away from the unicorn measuring Junior, Brian France continued, “Applejack, I’d like to present you to three time champion Jeff Gordon. Jeff, this is Applejack, who runs a successful apple orchard.”
“Boy howdy, I reckon this is goin’ to be a fun race!”
“Uh, I guess so,” replied Jeff. He whispered to Brian, “I thought we were trying to get away from NASCAR’s Southern roots?”
“It’s as much a surprise to me as it is to you. I mean, who expects a cute pony to be a hick?”
“So what car number are you runnin’?”
“Twenty-four.”
“Well shoot, I don’t think I’ve ever counted quite that high. Never was too big on fancy mathematics. That’s like a two and a four together, right?”
“Uh, yes. I’m just curious how you run a successful apple orchard if you can’t count.”
“My brother Big Macintosh keeps the books. He’s more the smart, silent type. Big and strong too. Me? I’m much more outgoing and do the actual sales, publicity, and promotion. That kinda stuff.”
“Right,” replied Jeff, hoping that ‘outgoing’ didn’t mean the same as ‘motormouth’ as he could see his teammate Jimmie wasn’t getting a minute of peace from the hyperactive pink pony.
“And last, but certainly not least, may I present our first Chase champion, Kurt Busch. Kurt, this is Fluttershy. She’s somewhere around here anyway,” he said as he looked around the room for the yellow pegasus. Eventually he caught sight of a long pink tail sticking out from behind a potted plant. “There’s no need to be shy, Kurt doesn’t hurt anyone. Well, not any more.”
“Except reporters, his own crew members, and Jimmy Spencer,” replied Tony Stewart. “Though I really can’t blame him for the first one.”
“Um, hi,” Fluttershy was doing her best to hide behind both her mane and Rainbow Dash. In turn Dash shoved her across the room until she was standing next to the driver of the #78.
“Either speak up so everyone can hear you, or get closer to who you’re talking to,” said Dash.
“Uh, hi,” Fluttershy tried again. “Nice to…uh…meet you?”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Just stay out of my way.”
“Okay,” replied Fluttershy, quickly hiding behind Rarity and Dale Junior.
“That’s no way to talk to Fluttershy!” Rainbow Dash flew up so she was in Kurt’s face.
“Oh yeah, and that’s no way to talk to me,” replied Kurt, shoving the blue pegasus.
Dash did an aerial somersault, straightened out, and then dive-bombed the NASCAR driver’s legs. He tumbled to the ground and Rainbow Dash sat on his chest, glaring at him. “Now, are you going to respect Fluttershy or am I going to have to get rough?”
“You might want to be careful, Rainbow. He likes it rough. He might leave his newest flavor of the month for you,” laughed Junior.
“It’d never work. We’re not the same species. I’m a pony, and he’s pond scum.”
Brian France silently berated himself. With the benefit of hindsight this was turning out to be an absolutely terrible idea. He hoped that the ratings boost would make this whole circus worth it in the end. “Okay, gentlemen, and Kurt Busch, can I please have you all pair up with your respective ponies for the photo-op? Who has the brushes?”
“Brushes?” asked Jeff Gordon.
“Yes, you’re all supposed to pose brushing your pony’s hair. It’s going on the cover of ‘Sports Illustrated’.”
“You mean I have t’ take my hat off?” asked Applejack.
“Oh no no no no, no one brushes my hair but me,” added Rarity.
“I like my mane just the way it is,” said Rainbow Dash.
“If I brush this purple unicorn’s hair I’m going to have to spend the next three weeks on my sofa wearing nothing but boxer shorts watching football, monster trucks, and wrestling while drinking beer just to bring my masculinity levels back up,” said Tony Stewart. Everyone else in the room gagged at that mental image, human and pony alike.
“And on that lovely note, drivers, start your brushes!” Brian France modified the usual command for the drivers to start their cars.
Hundreds of photos were taken; one would ultimately grace the cover of the world’s most prestigious sporting magazine, while others would appear on websites and in sports pages of newspapers around the country. All showed the same thing – Jeff Gordon was wearing Applejack’s hat, and instead of Dale Junior brushing Rarity’s mane the white unicorn was combing his hair. The other four driver-pony combinations were managing to be as normal as possible under the circumstances.
Fluttershy was visibly cringing throughout most of the photo session, and Rarity eventually noticed and spoke up, “I think you’re brushing Fluttershy’s hair a little too roughly, Mr. Busch.”
“Am not!”
“Actually, you um, kind of are. You’re pulling my hair every time you take a stroke.”
“Stop hurting Fluttershy!” Rainbow Dash’s wings flared up in anger, and Bill Elliott started laughing uncontrollably. “What’s so funny?” she snarled at the driver of the NEMCO car.
“Your…wing….feathers….are….tickling….me,” said Bill between laughs.
“Oh, sorry about that,” Rainbow tucked her wings back down to her sides.
“Does everyone have the pictures they need?” Brian asked the gathered photographers. They all nodded so France waved a checkered flag, signifying they could stop. Within seconds five brushes hit the floor. Rarity, however, had no intention of stopping until Dale Junior looked fabulous.
“Aww Junior, you look so pretty,” said Kurt. “Who’s a pretty little NASCAR driver? Yes you are, yes you are!”
“When I get away from this unicorn I’m gonna kick your…”
“Ahem,” Rarity butted in.
“…tush,” finished Dale Junior.
“Much better, but a true champion always conducts himself with grace and sportsmanship. Let the losers taunt all they want, but you do not stoop down to their level. A true champion does his trash talking on the racetrack and lets his victories speak for themselves.”
“Yes Miss Rarity,” replied Dale.
“Come on pony,” said Kurt Busch. “This press conference is over so it’s time for us to go.”
“Okay,” whispered Fluttershy.
“She has a name ya know,” said Rainbow Dash.
“Yeah, I’m sure she does. But I didn’t exactly pay attention to it.”
“It’s Fluttershy. And I’m Rainbow Dash.”
“Yeah, look, you wanna know a secret? I really don’t care. Why don’t you go hang out with your has-been driver.”
“You’re nothing but a big bully,” said Fluttershy
“Oh, so you do speak,” replied Kurt.
“You will stop being such a meanie to everybody you meet. You are not better than everyone else,” Fluttershy glared at the NASCAR driver. “Do you understand me?”
Kurt Busch found himself unable to look away from the yellow pegasus’ gaze.
“I said ‘do you understand me?’ You will stop being belligerent, egotistical, and violent.”
“I will stop being belligerent, egotistical and violent.”
“So you understand me?”
“Yes Fluttershy.”
“You will be a good NASCAR driver. You will be courteous, respectful, and you will never ever intentionally run into another driver ever again.”
“I hear and obey Fluttershy.”
“Good, I’m glad we had this little discussion.”
“So you want lunch, Fluttershy? My treat. What do ponies eat, anyway?”
“Well, we like a lot of things. Fruits and vegetables are great, we eat hay and flowers sometimes, and oh, we love sweets like cupcakes and cookies,” Fluttershy explained the diet of ponies as she and Kurt Busch left the press box.
Rainbow Dash blinked a few times. Apparently Fluttershy’s Stare was effective on humans. Hopefully she would never try to use it against other ponies. She trotted over to Bill, “I don’t suppose you could give me a ride in your racecar?”
“Let me check with Brian real quick.” Bill quickly whispered the idea to Brian France.
“That would be great,” said Brian, relieved. Bill had just given him a way to salvage this press conference. “Everyone, your attention please. Bill Elliott is going to give Rainbow Dash a quick ride around the speedway. So if all our esteemed media personnel will please follow me, I’ll see to it that you get the best vantage point.”
“Don’t you want the rest of us to come along too?” Junior asked.
“That’s up to your respective ponies. Who else wants to go for a ride?” asked Brian.
“Oh! Me! Me! Me! Me!” said Pinkie Pie.
“It would greatly help my studies on NASCAR to experience it for myself. So yes, I’d like a ride also,” added Twilight Sparkle.
“Yeeeehaaaaaaaw! Count me in!” said Applejack.
“Hmn, while I suppose that does sound like a lot of fun, your hair is just dreadful, darling. There’s so much more work that needs to be done and if you put a helmet on over it will just ruin all the progress I’ve made so far. So I’m afraid I’m going to have to decline the invitation.”
Four drivers and ponies made their way to the garage area where the cars were parked, while the other two drivers and ponies headed to the parking lot – one pair to travel to a restaurant, the other to the nearest beauty salon.
The four racecars puttered around Las Vegas Motor Speedway following the pace car at a steady 55 miles per hour. The four ponies were rather disappointed that this was as fast as Brian would let them go, but without helmets or firesuits to fit them he was unwilling to let the drivers open up their cars and show them what flirting with 200 MPH felt like.
“Boring,” Rainbow Dash said as Bill slowly followed the SRT Viper pace car.
*****
At a fancy restaurant across town from the racetrack, Fluttershy and Kurt Busch sat waiting for their meals. Fluttershy had been appalled at seeing so much meat on the menu and so few vegetarian offerings. She couldn’t imagine why anyone would want to eat her little woodland friends. So she had picked a simple salad. Kurt was going to order a steak but a quick glance from Fluttershy made him change his order to a salad as well.
Fluttershy looked around the restaurant while they waited for their meals. The walls were white, while the curtains and tablecloths were matching burgundy. But all of that was hardly noticeable in the candle lit room. Because both of them were celebrities, they had asked for a private table. Unfortunately the only secluded areas were geared for romantic dinners, and hence the setting only added to the awkwardness between the two. Fluttershy felt a pang of guilt as she realized this must be an expensive place to eat. That meant there was only one thing to do – she would help Kurt Busch be a better person.
Once their meals were in front of them, she asked, “So Kurt, do you want to tell me why you have so much anger bottled up inside you?”
“It’s not anger, Fluttershy. It’s competitiveness. I hunger to win races and championships, to be the best driver that ever there was.”
“My friend Rainbow Dash is extremely competitive too, and she’s not a violent sociopath. So let’s try this again, why do you have so much anger inside you?”
Soon the NASCAR driver was pouring his heart out to the pegasus. She responded by patting his hand with her hoof and assuring him that everything would be okay.
“But I’ve wronged so many people over the years. How can I ever make up for that?”
“You should write each and every one of them a letter of apology. It may not patch things up, but you’ll feel better for having made the effort. And who knows, you might be surprised by how many people are willing to forgive you. You might even make some friends because of this.”
“That’s a good idea, but I don’t think you realize just how many letters I need to write…”
“Don’t think of it as an insurmountable obstacle, but a goal to achieve. Write a few each day. Start with those you’ve hurt the most and proceed from there.”
“You’re right, Fluttershy. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
*****
Rarity, on the other hoof, had no desire to be discrete. They were celebrities and she was determined that as many people as possible would see her make him look fabulous. Then not only would her talents be known across Equestria, but across Earth as well. As such she had picked a salon in the middle of a highly trafficked mall to finish her makeover of Dale Earnhardt Junior.
Disregarding the NASCAR driver’s obvious discomfort, she set to work on his hair while telling him all about the dresses she made for her friends, her adventures with Canterlot’s elite, and finally about the dreadful time she had spent with Prince Blueblood at the Grand Galloping Gala. “Good men are so hard to find,” she sighed.
Dale Junior cringed as the unicorn mare continued her incessant rambling. He had been starting to doze off but the last comment woke him up. He couldn’t blame the prince for not wanting to get saddled with a nag like this. Then it dawned on him… was this pony flirting with him? He slid his cell phone out of his pocket and discreetly texted an associate of his while the unicorn continued talking about things that had no interest to him.
“Oh, and just wait until I get back to my boutique! I have all your measurements and I intend to make you an entire wardrobe of magnificent new ensembles. You’ll be dressing in style in no time!”
Dale wracked his brain for ways to get even with Brian France for making him suffer through this indignity. Unfortunately, nothing he could come up with compared to the sheer torture he was currently going through. Then inspiration hit. “Rarity?”
“Yes Dale?” replied the unicorn, batting her eyelashes at him.
He shuddered; yes she was definitely flirting with him. “I was thinking that since Brian was so nice as to introduce us all you should show him some gratitude as well. I mean, you’re doing all of this for me, but without him you never would have even met me.”
Rarity gasped. “You’re absolutely right! Why I’ll just have to get his measurements when we get back to the racetrack after dinner.”
“Dinner?”
“You were planning on eating at some point, weren’t you, darling?”
“Well, yeah, I guess that’s probably a good idea. I’m sure this mall has a food court somewhere.”
“A food court? Oh no, that simply won’t do. You must not only dress for success, but you must eat for success as well.”
Dale rolled his eyes, “Fine, we’ll find a fancy restaurant more suited for your tastes.”
Much to the driver’s chagrin there was no shortage of helpful bystanders willing to recommend places to dine. After asking what seemed like a dozen questions, Rarity finally picked one and Dale drove them to it.
“Would you like to be seated with the other pony, miss?”
“Other pony?” asked Rarity, incredulous.
“Yes, yellow, pink hair, has wings. She’s been here about two hours now consoling the gentleman she came in with.”
“You must mean Fluttershy.”
“Kurt Busch is crying? Yes, by all means we wish to be seated with them,” replied Dale Junior, relishing the chance to dump the unicorn off on his fellow racer. He would just slip out, leaving Rarity alone with Kurt and Fluttershy. Kurt was obviously in no position to argue so it was the perfect plan.
“We have a party requesting to be seated with you. Would you be willing to accept a Miss Rarity and a Mr. Earnhardt Jr. to your table?” asked the waiter.
“Why of course,” replied Fluttershy.
“The more the merrier,” added Kurt Busch.
“Darlings, are you okay?”
“Yes, Miss Rarity. Fluttershy has shown me the error of my ways and from now on I’ve vowed to turn over a new leaf. Dale, I’ve done you wrong in the past and all I can do is offer my apologies and hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me.” He wrapped his arms around Dale, embracing him in a hug.
“Very good, Kurt. See, that wasn’t so hard was it?”
“You’re right, and it made me feel good. How about you Dale?”
“Honestly, I think I liked you better when you were an arrogant jerk who didn’t hug people.”
“Now Dale, that is not the way to address someone who is offering a truly heartfelt apology. What do you say?” Rarity admonished.
“Apology accepted. And I, er, I’m sorry too. I haven’t always been nice to you either.”
“Very good.” The unicorn beamed as Dale excused himself from the table.
“Hurry back, your meal’s on me. I insist,” said Kurt.
As Dale walked towards the restroom he weighed his options. He could make his hasty retreat now as planned, or he could wait until after dinner to do so. Whatever spell the yellow pony had him under was bound to wear off sooner or later so if he was ever going to take advantage of Kurt’s newfound generosity it would have to be now. On the flip side, that meant dealing with the unicorn for another hour or so, and the new and improved Kurt Busch was creeping him out too. He kept walking past the restroom and straight towards the parking lot.
As he walked out of the building he asked the maître d’ a favor, “Would you mind letting the rest of my group know an emergency came up and I had to leave?”
“Sure monsieur.”
He made it all the way to the parking lot before realizing his car keys were missing. He reached for his cell phone to call a cab, but that was missing too. He swore long and hard at the pony. Then he walked over to the curb and started waving for a taxi. When one finally stopped he reached for his wallet… only to discover that was missing as well. “Never mind,” he said to the taxi driver, sending him back on his way. “What else did she take from me?”
It was a question he really didn’t want to know the answer to. Back at their table, Rarity was twirling Dale’s car keys with her magic. She sighed, “I’ve been on enough dates to know when a stallion is about to bolt on me. I’ve never had one single date make it all the way to dessert. Why must I be cursed with such great looks, charm, and wit to the point where all the guys are intimidated by me?”
“You do realize this isn’t a date, right?” Fluttershy asked.
“But of course, darling. But guys are all the same, romantic interest in them or not. You just need to appeal to their sense of self, make them feel important, desired.”
“You know, that might be part of your problem,” replied Kurt Busch. “If a horse started flirting with me I’d run away too. And taking his car keys probably won’t stop him if he really wants to get away from you. When we’re at the track we have loaner cars provided by our sponsors, so he really doesn’t have much motivation not to just abandon the vehicle.”
“Oh, I figured as much. That’s why I took this as well,” she slid Dale’s cell phone over to the other driver.
“One unread text?” Kurt thought to himself, quietly reading it.
“You shouldn’t read someone else’s personal correspondence,” Fluttershy admonished.
“But what harm is there in a little gossip? I say read it!” replied Rarity.
Kurt had already read the text by the time Fluttershy scolded him, and he was glad he did. He sent a return text assuring the other person that his services would not be necessary and that there had just been a big misunderstanding. “Out of curiosity, are there lawyers where you come from?”
“Lawyers? No, I don’t think so.”
“Good, looks like I’m going to help keep it that way,” Kurt replied, depositing the cell phone back in front of Rarity.
Dale Earnhardt Junior returned to the table, scowling.
“Darling! I was wondering how you had gotten such an important emergency call when you left your phone here.”
“Left my phone here? Funny how it seems I left my car keys and wallet here too.”
“Oh yes, darling.”
“Did you take anything else of mine I might want to know about?”
“Well…” Rarity blushed.
“Well what?”
Rarity levitated a pair of boxer shorts over to the racecar driver. “I just wanted a sample of Earth’s fabrics to compare against Equestria’s and this was the only garment you were wearing whose function I couldn’t determine…”
Dale was now bright red from both embarrassment and anger, “Just how did you get those off?”
“Magic of course.”
“I’m going to go put these back on.”
“I trust you’ll not have any sudden emergencies on the way to the bathroom this time, darling?”
“Fine, I’ll be back.” He walked towards the bathroom, muttering. “Forget going all the way to lap sixteen, I’m blowing the engine on lap one and making a break for the exit as soon as my car comes to a stop.”