As usual, the alarm clock went off even after Big Mac had awoken. He walked over to it and turned it off. For good measure, he removed the battery. When that was finished, he looked at his mane decided not to comb it, brushed his teeth, put on a satchel, and then headed to his room door. Before he left, he checked the mirror that was on top of the dresser. What he saw was a modest looking stallion whose wounds were healing quite quickly. He also saw an envelope taped to the mirror. It was addressed to him from his sister Applejack. Immediately, Mac open and read the letter.
Dear Big Macintosh,
Ah know it's yer vacation and it barely started, but ah just wanted know how ya been. I hope ya are enjoying yerself. Don’t go too wild, though. Celestia knows we don’t need an illegitimate filly turning up around the farm. Anyway, we’ve have been doing well. The girls have offered to pick up the work you usually do which is a lot more than we thought. Don’t worry, though. We have it under control. You just have fun. Oh and I heard about ya saving a mare from a burning building and stopping a bank robbery. Two days and ya are already making yerself a name. You’re strong and smart. Just be careful. I don’t want to lose you because of your heroics. Anyway, see ya in two weeks.
Much love,
Applejack
P.s. Make sure to take yer pills everyday. I know you’ve been forgetting.
Mac smiled. He could feel the love radiating off this letter. At least the farm and his family are doing well. Hopefully those bits he deposited will help around farm. He opened up a drawer, found pencil and paper, and began to write his reply.
Dear Applejack and friends,
My vacation is going great. I’ve been doing…a lot of activities .None that would result in that illegitimate foal that you wrote about. The princesses are nice and they even invited me to have dinner with them. It was somewhat awkward, but informative. Make sure to check each apple thoroughly to see if it has rotten. I don’t want our good name to be ruined by one bad apple. The fire and bank thing…weren’t as bad as you think. Anypony could have done it. I need you to do me a favor, though. One of the bank robbers said his name. “Azure Lulamoon.” Ask Miss. Twilight if that unicorn she battled…uh…Trixie…if she had a brother. If she does, I probably found him. Lastly, don’t worry if you find more bits in the account. I found a little job to keep me busy.
Returning the love
Big Macintosh
Mac scanned the letter a couple a times to see if everything was correct. He also checked to make sure he didn’t release and sensitive information. He was apart of a secret agency after all. When he finished, he folded the letter, checked the mirror one more time, took his pills, and then left the room.
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The grass crunched under his hooves. The sun warmed his fur coat and the wind would cool him back down. His stomach growled since he missed breakfast. To hold him over till he found a place to eat, he lowered his neck and took a bite of grass. It wasn’t uncommon to eat grass, but by the glares of the Canterlot elite, it was filthy and low-classed. He didn't know why, but Mac decided to take another bite. Probably just to spite them. He chewed as loudly and obnoxiously as he could while he walked in searched of a place to eat.
“You are one rude and disgusting creature.” said a mare as she walked out of a mane salon. Her mane was styled upward to form a tower. It had been dyed green and contained living flowers.
“Oh really?” Mac responded as he chew the grass and swallowed, “Well yer mane looks like a newborn filly styled it. How do you people wear your hair in such a weird and foolish way? It is in no way fashionable or stylish.”
“Harrumph! What do you know about fashion you…you…ruffian?!” she asked.
“Not much, but I do know that your mane is not going to attract any stallions anytime soon.”
The mare just stared the stallion in the eyes. Neither was about to break the contact until Mac reached into her mane, pulled out a flower, and ate it. Annoyed, the mare pointed her snout towards the air, and then walked back into the salon.
Mac, with a sense of victory, began to trot away. The scent of food drifted towards his nose and involuntarily he began moving towards it. He reached the beginning if the smell to find a haydog stand. It was seven bits per haydog, a complete rip-off in Mac’s opinion, but then he remembered where he was. Distraught, he ordered one with all the toppings. Despite the price, it smelled and looked delicious. Without hesitation, he went in for the bite.
“There he is girls!” yelled the mare from earlier, “He talked about my mane!”
“He’s also the stallion that splashed Golden Bracelet and I!”
“GET HIM!!!”
The mares, each with a ridiculous mane-do, galloped in Mac’s direction. With every step of their hooves, a mini Earth quake was felt. Their angry screams sounded like the pony warriors Granny Smith told stories about. Mac didn’t need a second warning. He stuffed the haydog in his mouth and began running away. He barely go to taste it before he hastily swallowed.
Through alleys, opened doors, rose bushes, and other ponies, Mac ran for his life. These mares just didn’t know when to give up. He would hide in a crowd of elite and think it was over, but some of the mares happened to pegusi and would spot him from the sky. It is not hard to see a red stallion as big as Mac from the sky. After a while of running, he finally lost the mares and decided to rest in a diner. The haydog did really satisfy his hunger. The dinner was packed, yet he found a lone seat at the counter. There was no menu so he decided to ask somepony near him.
“Excuse me, what do you recommend?” he asked.
“You have to try the “Wet mane” stew or the “Dirty Stallion” sandwich. My personal favorite is the “Revenge” Ice cream.” responded the pony. Bile dripped from every word.
“Thank ya. I’ll try the Dirty stal…”
The red stallion’s eyes widened with realization. Nonchalantly, he turned around to make his escape, but it was too late. He was surrounded. The mares, their manes now ruined with sweat, closed in on the farmer stallion. In Mac’s opinion, their manes looked somewhat better. How he didn’t see the trap was jarring.
“Now you have no where left to run.” said one of the mares.
“Wh…wh…wha…what are you going to do with me?” Mac asked. His voice quavering and filled with fear.
“Teach you about fashion.” All the mares said in unison. Each one lifted up a different item used in mane styling. Combs, brushes, mane spray, hair curlers, straightening irons, scissors, etc. All were there and in horrifying amounts. Sinister smiles appeared on the mare faces as they enclosed the stallion. Mac couldn’t help but cringe as a comb tore its way through his messy blonde mane.
“HALT YOU EVIL WITCHES!” howled a familiar young blue colt, “Do not comb a single hair on that stallion’s mane!”
A small number of colts and young stallions rushed into the diner. Not a single one showed decency when they shoved the mares out the way. They reached the center and formed a semi circle around Mac. “Okay ladies. Let us out and no one gets hurt.” recommended the blue colt. The group of males slowly made their escape with Mac in their protections. One pegusus mare went to try to snatch Mac away, but another male pegusus grabbed her by the tail. When Mac passed safely, he let her go and she went flying into a wall.
“Alright, guys! We have the objective.” declared an obviously older colt, possibly the leader. “Let’s go back to the hideout. Let’s GO!”
In that instant, Mac was bagged, had his legs tied, his ears were muffled, and he was hoisted onto a wagon. He didn’t know what was going on, but anything was better than being stuck with those mares. He didn’t need to worry, for something, maybe his connection, told him that his shadow was close.
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He didn’t know where he was, yet Mac knew he wasn’t carried far. The air was musty and the bag wasn’t making it any better.He could barely breath. His hoof ached because the ropes were too tight. They weren’t getting any blood. Even though his ears were muffled, he could faintly make out voices.
“Can’t…down here…will be discovered.”
“He’s cool…don’t worry…everything will be fine.”
The whole situation made him uncomfortable, so he began to struggle with the ropes. More or less did they become looser, but a nasty rope burn was setting in. “Calm down. I’m cutting you free.” said the blue colt. As soon as the rope tension was cut, Mac took the bag off, jumped up, and fell on his face. “I didn’t cut the rope around your hind legs…” With broken pride, Mac waited till the ropes were cut.
“You can get up now.” stated the colt.
“Thank you…uh…uh” Honestly; Mac never learned the colt’s name.
“My name is Valor. People just call me Val, though.”
Somepony lit a torch, and the smoke flowed towards Mac. “Well thanks Val, cough. Uh… Where are we?”
“I can’t tell you that Mister…”
“Big Mac.”
They shook hooves and continued the conversation. Mac got a good look at the colt. No cutie mark, green eyes, blue fur. His mane was black with a short cut…done pretty badly.
“How did you know I was in trouble?” Mac asked.
“I happened to walking past the salon when I saw you being chased by that group of mares. You seemed to be in need, so I came here, grabbed the colts, and we came to your rescue. You seem to get in a lot of trouble around here.”
“Yeah…it does seem that way. Wait!” Mac stopped, something was off, “Where’s my satchel?”
Mac didn’t have to look far. Right behind him, three young colts were turning his bag upside down. All its contents fell out onto the cold ground: His bag of bits, a couple of apples, and the letter to his sister. Immediately, the apples were devoured, the bits disappeared, and the letter discarded.
He didn’t really care about the apples or the bits, but the letter was important. Well, he did need some bits to send it off. He excused himself from Valor and went get his satchel, yet was stopped by the leader pony from earlier.
“And where do you think you’re going?” demanded the leader as he stepped in front of Big Mac. He was older than the rest like Mac guessed. He was a scrawny pegusus with brown fur, and black eyes. His cutie mark was a helmet, worn by guards, sitting on a lighting cloud.
“To get ma satchel.”Mac stated clearly.
“Oh you can have the satchel, but all its contents are now ours. Think of it as a rescuers fee.” smirked the leader.
It was too early in the morning, for Mac make to be going through this. He took deep breaths and forgot about what just occurred. “Can ya at least tell me where I am?”
“The Lost Colts hideout. Perhaps you heard us.” sneered the brown colt. He walked away without another look.
Low level contempt began to boil in Mac’s being. He should just ignore the colt and walk away, yet he found it hard to do. One more deep breath; the stress was gone. Mac walked over to his satchel, which was dropped when the colts saw him coming, and picked it up. Light and empty. Not a single bit or apple left. Frantically, he searched for the letter to his sister, yet couldn’t find it either.
“I see you met our leader. We don’t know his real name, so we just call him general.”
“Well ‘general’ is more annoying than…than… “Mac was never as good as Applejack at making metaphors, “More annoying than Pinkie Pie’s unplanned parties…Oh well. How do I get out of here?”
“Just take those steps over there. You’ll be let out near the castle.” Valor answered.
Up the steps Mac went, yet he decided to take one more look at the hideout. What he now saw was horrible. Only twelve Colts, ranging in age and race, were in this hideout. Each one was covered in dirt and grim. Many scratched ever so often. Most rubbed their stomach, filled with hunger. Then Mac saw “General”. He was worried about his fellow colts and their conditions. As any good leader should. Mac made a mental note to visit this place more often.
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A door was opened; the sun flowed in. By Mac’s judgment, it was around noon. He walked out, closed the door, and looked around. Turns out, the stairs led to an old abandoned outhouse. Inconspicuous. Mac shrugged and walked on. A feeling inside of him made him stop and look around. His “Shadow’ pointed towards a nearby alley. Mac didn’t waste time before he ran galloped there.
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“You’re an idiot...” said Hush-Hush
“And a fine morning to you too.” Mac replied.
“Chased by mares half your size. Kidnapped by colts younger than you. A fine agent you’re turning out to be,” Hush shrugged and rolled her eyes, “As your shadow, I’m supposed to get to know you and vice versa, so hi!”
“No…you can do better than that, “A quick search around, and Mac saw a sign for a carnival, “How about we go there and get acquainted?”
“I’m not much of a ‘fun’ person.” She groaned.
“Well today you are!” Mac informed with delight of a school colt. The farmer had not been to a carnival in years, so of course he jumped at the opportunity. He grabbed Hush by the hoof and galloped full speed towards the carnival. Hush, annoyed at the situation, held on for dear life.
“Slow down or you’re going to be the death of me.” Hush complained, yet the side of her mouth twitched with a smile.