//------------------------------//
// We're Getting the Band Back Together! 
// Story: The Poncho Chronicles III: Amsterdam 
// by BRyeMC 
//------------------------------//

	“Dudes, we’re getting the band back together!” yelled Patel excitedly.
“Wait, what?” Spike, as he walked through the door into Patel and Wahlburn’s apartment room. “What the hell did I miss?” 
Spike normally lived in Ponyville, but a couple months ago, decided to leave it due to a ‘revelation’. This revelation, of course, being hanging out with his now best friend, Wahlburn.
”We’re going to Amsterdam, getting a shit ton of weed, then selling it for profit back here,” said Wahlburn. He picked up a stack of cash from the pile on the table. He examined it and placed it back down after a few seconds. “We are running out of supplies.”
At first, Spike just stared at him, confused on what he just said. “That the most dipshit retarded idea I’ve ever heard, but I need a vacation so let’s go.”
“That’s the spirit,” said Patel, approving of his answer. “First we need to gather the group and get our tickets.”
Wahlburn got up and walked towards the apartment’s bar. He began to mix several drinks together. “Yep, we’re trying to leave first thing tomorrow to convince everyone else to come. Depending on their moods, this could take a few hours or the whole day.” Satisfied, he stopped mixing and drank the newly made liquid. After a first taste, he chugged the whole drink down in one go. 
“Alright, sounds cool with me. Let’s watch some “Walking Dead”, then I’m going to bed.” Patel and the duo relaxed on the couch and finished up their program. Afterwards, they went to bed dreaming of their adventures to come in Amsterdam.

Morning eventually came, and the three readied for the day ahead. Everyone was tired, as none of them got sufficient sleep the night before.
“Alright,” yawned Spike, “Who are we getting first?”
“Tyrone first I guess, he’s in jail so we need to go before visiting hours are over.” Patel took out a map to begin tracing a path to Tyrone’s current location.
“He’s in jail again?” exclaimed Spike, “I mean, I shouldn’t be surprised, but he was just released not to long ago.” 
“That’s what I heard.”
“What for? Do you know?”
Patel shrugged. “Not sure, you’ll have to ask him.”
The three entered Wahlburn’s car and drove off to the correctional facility. The trip took nearly an hour, as the only way to the facility was through back roads. After reaching their destination, they got out of the car and walked the long path to the visiting center. Guards were stationed all around the main building and grounds that they were all intimidated at first. Once inside, they made their way to the desk to call for Tyrone. They gave a guard the name to search for.
“We have three hundred and twenty seven ‘Tyrones’, sir. You need to be more specific.” The guard sighed while scrolling through the computer database.
“Well shit, uh, ‘Tyrone King’ then,” said Spike.
“Seven of those,” replied the guard.
“Christ, what the hell?” Spike slumped back into the chair in disappointment, trying to think of something else to help them. “Uh, the really black one that says ‘shiieeett’ all of the time.”
“Oh, that guy.” The guard laughed. “Okay I’ll get him for you, follow me.”
The three were escorted to the visitors area and were told to wait. Eventually, Tyrone made his way out. He had a one hundred pound dumbbell in each hoof lifting away. His sleeves on his jumpsuit were also ripped off showing his massive biceps.
“Damn Tyrone, you’re huge!” said Spike in awe.
“Yeah, he’s been making some gains, I’m mirin’ brah,” replied Patel.
“What did you say?” asked Wahlburn. “What the fuck does that mean?”
“N-Nothing, it’s a long story.” Patel looked away to change the topic. “You look buff as hell though Tyrone.” 
“Yeah mane, I’ve had a whole year to lift. Can’t let that chance go to waste, you feel me?” Tyrone still had his ghetto talking ways that everybody loved. However, they noticed that his time in prison made his accent more noticeable. 
“Why are you back in here anyway?” asked Patel. 
“Well, bout 12 and a half mumfs ago,” began Tyrone, while curling the dumbbells, “one o’my bitches didn’t git muh money. Dat pissed me off, so I slapped a hoe. That bitch had the nerve to call the po-lice. I do get out tommorow, doe.” He remained curling even after his tale.
“Great, we’ve got a plan to go to Amsterdam, get weed, then come back,” said Spike, “you in?”
“We flyin’ right?” asked Tyrone, still curling.
Patel took out his planned trip notebook and began to read and point to things on the paper. “Yeah, straight to London then a layover to Amsterdam. This would be cheapest and fastest. Plus, London detours are nice too.” 
“Coach?”
“Nah man, first class.”
“Shiiiiieeeeettt,” said Tyrone, as he slowed down his curling a notch.
“So, you in or not? We have to go get the others.” Wahlburn quickly pulled out his car keys. The others ignored his impatienceness.  
“Yeah, why not,” said Tyrone, “I can bring these wit me right?” 
Patel and the others knew he was talking about his weights, “Yeah that’s fine, bring what you want as long as they aren’t explosives. Meet us at our apartment at noon tomorrow.” 
Suddenly, Tyrone gave a grim look on his face. “I guess I can’t go witchu guys now.”
“What? Why not?” asked a shocked Patel.
“Cuz I can’t be on that plane with these explosive guns!” Tyrone flexed his two arms and gave a laugh.
The group gave a sigh. “God fucking dammit,” whispered Spike as he and Wahlburn began to walk out of the visitor center. “Just meet us at noon, alright?” said Patel.
“Aight.” 
After leaving the center and down the long path, the three entered Wahlburn’s car again. Before leaving the parking lot, Wahlburn turned on some tunes. After a few minutes on the back road, and after a random fifties song ended, he spoke up. “So, who’s next on our hit list?” 
Patel shrugged. “I’m not sure. I’m thinking Cannon as he’s probably not doing anything. He’s probably still burnt from a party like always. I’m also fairly certain the others will be home anyways.” They all laughed and enjoyed the radio for the remainder of the short trip to the apartment building where many of their friends lived in Verona.
Once there, they entered the lobby of the main apartment building and went up to the fourth floor. Since Sticky, Rivs, Clyde, and Cannon all had rooms on the same floor in this building, they decided to check who was home. To no avail, nobody answered their doors.
“Well, this fucking sucks. What the hell lead to we have now?” asked Wahlburn sitting down against the wall. 
“I have no idea. I can probably guess where three of them are, but for Cannon, I could have sworn he would be here.” Patel took out a notebook and began to sketch some drawings while thinking of a new plan.
“We could go get others while we figure out Cannon’s location,” said Spike after a few moments of silence. Wahlburn and Patel looked at each other and nodded. They made their way back downstairs and into the parking lot. Before entering the car, Patel looked across the street at the nearby park and saw a pony sitting under the tree. After taking a closer examination with squinted eyes, Patel realized it was Cannon. He told the others and ran over to him.
“Cannon!” yelled Patel standing in front and looking down at him.
Cannon sat there for a few moments like he was dazed and in a state of confusion. He looked up and saw Patel. “Patel? My dude....” 
Patel saw that his eyes were pinkish and lost. “God damn it Cannon, again?”
“W-What?” Cannon laughed. Soon, Spike ran over and also laughed at him.
“Dude, you are so stoned right now!”
Cannon glared at them. “Shut the fuck up. What do you guys want?”
Patel took out his notebook and showed Cannon the big ‘Amsterdam’ that he wrote a few minutes ago. “We are leaving tomorrow, you coming?”
Cannon didn’t answer, but continued his gaze towards the sky. After a good five minutes, he shouted, “Sure!”
“Alright, man. Cool. Meet us at our house at noon tomorrow.” Patel waved goodbye and headed back across the street towards Wahlburn with Spike.
“You think he will remember?” asked Spike.
“Nah.” 
Once they arrived at Wahlburn’s car they quickly got in as Wahlburn already had the car started. “Is Cannon good for tomorrow?” he asked them.
“Yeah, well, we guess. We’ll find out tomorrow,” said Spike. 
“Great. Well, who’s next?” asked Wahlburn, “Also, can we travel in the least amount of trips possible. I’m trying to not go all around the damn country and waste my gas.” 
“Good thinking,” said Patel. “I guess we are going to Canterlot now, as everyone else should be there.”
Wahlburn sighed. “They better be.” After a half hour drive, the trio arrived at the capital of the country. Seeing how the area was much larger than their small town of Verona, Patel took out the city map he bought when he came to the city a month ago to watch his friends play for the Crusaders. 
“Let’s start at the PH. Jeb works there pretty much every breathing second.” Both Wahlburn and Spike sighed at Patel’s suggestion.
“Seriously, Jeb? Why the fuck do we want him to go with us?” complained Wahlburn.
“Yeah, I agree. Jeb is a loser,” said Spike.
“Well,” began Patel, “even if most-”
“All.”
“Okay, all of us hate him, it still wouldn’t be a band reunion without him.”
“We aren’t even in a band!” yelled Spike.
“It’s a phrase you douche!” said Patel who stared at Spike darkly. After Patel calmed down, he continued. “Anyways, it’s right near the arena, which so happens, Sticky, Rivs, and Clyde will be.” 
“Fine,” said Wahlburn and Spike disappointingly. They made their way downtown, walking fast, to hurry up their scavenger hunt as daylight was in its descend. As the trio crossed the street across from the restaurant, another pony ran into them.
“Why look who it is! Mis amigos del Norte!” said Fluffy Johnson helping himself and the others up off the ground. 
“Fluffy J!” yelled Patel, “we haven’t seen you in a long time, how the fuck are you doing?” 
“Bueno.”
“Enough with the bullshit!” yelled Wahlburn, “if you speak another language you are a faggot.”
“Wow man, that’s going to piss a lot of ponies off,” said Spike.
“Yeah man, what the hell?” Fluffy turned away from Wahlburn and back towards Patel. ‘What’s his problem?”
“I don’t know man. Hey, I know this is sudden and all, but do you want to go to Amsterdam with us?”
“Sure, when?”
“Tomorrow.”
Fluffy looked at him in a nonchalant fashion and nodded. “I’ll be there.”
“Sweet, noon at our house tomorrow.” 
After a quick goodbye, Patel, Wahlburn, and Spike then left him alone as they ran inside of the PH. The PH was one of those restaurants that usually only elderly ponies went to. Jeb told the group tales of the kinds of customers that ate at the PH daily. He also stated that it was basically an early retirement home, which the trio now saw that he was right. 
“Welcome to the PH, how many?” asked one of the hostesses near the entrance. She had a nametag on, revealing her name as Ramen Noodles. 
“We don’t want to eat your damn food. Where’s Jeb at?” asked Wahlburn, in an almost threatening voice. 
“I’m sorry?” 
Patel sighed and walked up to the counter. “He didn’t mean to yell, he tends to do that a lot. But in all seriousness, we need to talk to Jeb.”
“Well, he’s working right now in the back, so he probably can’t talk right now. I can give him a message though.”
At first, Patel was going to debate again to tell Jeb personally, but he decided that he wasn’t worth the hassle. “Yeah, that would be fine. Tell him to meet at Patel’s house at noon.” After she wrote down the message the hostess left for the back kitchen while the trio departed the restaurant. “That place is a complete buzzkill.” 
“You said it,” said Spike. “The practice arena now?”
“Yeah, practice should be over by now so we should be able to get in.” The trio quickly made their way back to Wahlburn’s car. 	Patel directed Wahlburn to the arena and they all ran inside of the side, practice building connected to the main arena in the middle of the city. Once inside, they journeyed through the hallways until they reached the court. To their luck, Rivs and Sticky were there going against each other. 
“Yo my dudes!” yelled Spike trying to get their attention. Both of them ignored him and continued going hard in the paint, doing crossovers, layups, and fades. Patel and Spike kept yelling their names and jumping around but they still ignored them. Pissed, Wahlburn ran on the court and blocked Rivs’ jumpshot.
“What the hell man?” asked Rivs.
“Stop ignoring us you damn bitches,” replied Wahlburn, “we are only trying to get your attention for ten minutes.”
“Sorry dude but we are on the ballin’ mindset right now.”
“Why you guys here anyway?” asked Sticky. “You wanna ball with us?”
“No, not really,” said Patel. “We wanted to know if you two wanted to go to Amsterdam with us tomorrow.” 
“Amsterdam? That would be pretty cool,” said Rivs rubbing his chin.
“I concur. That would be pretty cool,” said Sticky agreeing with his friend for once. 
“Alright, meet us at our place at noon tomorrow,” said Patel. “Oh, do you know where Clyde is?” 
“Clyde? Nah man, haven’t seen him all day,” said Sticky.
“Didn’t you guys have practice today?” asked Wahlburn.
Sticky and Rivs both laughed. “Yeah we had practice, but do you honestly think he comes to them?”
“Well, yeah, I mean, that’s kind of a duty if you want to be great...”
Rivs laughed again. “Ever since he met CB down in South Beach and learned that CB never took practice seriously, he usually doesn’t bother with them. He mostly only does workout sessions with us, but for practice drills, he only comes around once in a blue moon.” 
“Great...,” said Wahlburn. “I just wonder, where on this world he could be then. I’ll go start the car.”
“Wait,” said Sticky, “could you take us home? The bus rides take forever.” 
Wahlburn sighed. “I guess....” The group of five left the practice arena and crammed inside of Wahlburn’s vehicle. 
“Fuck, there’s no room in here!” yelled Spike. He was squished between Rivs and Sticky in the small back seats. 
“Then grab on to someone’s back you fuck!” retorted Wahlburn.
Spike climbed onto Rivs and held on to him. “No homo man.”
“Nah, it’s good. We cool.”
After the quick road trip back to Sticky’s and Rivs’ building in Verona, they arrived at the closest parking spot near the main entrance. As they got out, they all had a look of shock on their faces as Clyde walked out of the building.
“Oh hey guys,” said Clyde. 
“What the hell are you doing here?” asked Rivs.
“Uh. I live here?” 
“You still live here?” said Sticky in wonder. 
“Yeah, I still do, technically speaking. What are you guys doing anyway?” 
“Well,” said Patel. “Last night, I thought of a real crazy idea.”
“What is it?” asked Clyde.
“This idea, is so crazy, that I decided to journey out all across the land, searching for my good friends that I haven’t really talked to in a very long time.”
“What the hell is your plan?” asked Clyde, more venomously than usual. 
“We’re going to Amsterdam baby!” The group then began to high-five each other in excitement for the trip.
Clyde stared at them. “We’re, as in, you guys?”
“And you.” Patel and the others smiled.
“Oh. Well, I’m not going.” The rest of them all moaned in disbelief and disappointment at his answer.
“Oh, why the fuck am I not surprised that you aren’t going?” said Wahlburn. “Tell me, what are you going to do here that’s so much better than hanging out with some bros at Amsterdam?”
“Why the hell would I go to Amsterdam? All Amsterdam contains is drugs, hookers, and partying!”
“Exactly!” yelled everyone else simultaneously. 
“Don’t be that guy that bails on our ‘Bro Night’ in Amsterdam for some slutty bitchy girl Clyde,” said Patel.
Clyde sighed. “If it makes you feel better, she won’t even be in town for the next week. She’s going on vacation with her family.”
“Oh no! What’s Clyde going to do now!” said Patel sarcastically. 
Clyde smiled. “It’s called webcams and voice chat. Anyways, I’m going to go see her before she leaves. What time do you guys leave tomorrow?”
“Noon, but I don’t know why you care so much,” said Patel. 
“Alright, whatever. See you later then.” Clyde bid them farewell and walked away from the condo. 
“So, I guess we can count him out,” said Rivs. 
“Yeah, I guess so,” said Patel. Rivs and Sticky left them as they wanted to rest up for tomorrow’s journey. The original trio sat in the parking lot talking about their trip. 
“Are we forgetting someone?” asked Spike. “I feel like we are forgetting someone else.”
“Are you sure? We talked to Tyrone, Cannon, Jeb, Sticky and Rivs, and Clyde. Oh, we even got Fluffy. Who else is there?” They sat there thinking while watching the sun almost set in the distance. As the sun hit the horizon, the trio all yelled the name of the lone member of the group they have yet to contact: Poncho.
“Poncho!” they all yelled.
“Where the hell are we going to find him at?” asked Wahlburn. “Do you even know what he has been doing since last year?”
Patel shrugged. “I think he’s working for or with a potato chip factory outside of the town. We could see if he’s there.” 
“I honestly don’t feel like wasting anymore gas today, especially for Poncho.” 
“Well, what are we going to do? Forget about him?” 
Spike and Wahlburn looked at each other and began giving reasons on why they should do just that.
“I don’t see why you want him to go, he eats all of our damn food.” Wahlburn got back inside his car and started it up. “I need to head to that gas station around here. Gotta refuel.”
“Why?” asked Spike. “We won’t be needing it for Amsterdam.”
“To get back home to rest and drive to the airport you idiot!”
“Chill man, damn.” Spike crawled up into the car as Patel also decided to jump in. They drove to the nearest gas station in town, which was nearly a mile away from the condo building Rivs and the others lived at. As Wahlburn pulled in, they saw a big rig carrying a cargo trailer with the logo and emblem of the same potato chip factory Poncho was apparently working at. 
“I bet they are unpacking and restocking the shelves,” said Patel. “I wonder if the delivery guy knows about Poncho.”
“You could go in there and ask,” said Wahlburn. “I’m going to stay out here.” 
Patel quickly jumped out of his car and walked inside the convenience store. He looked around and noticed a pony in the factory uniform around the snack aisle. “Hey, excuse me, but do you know a pony named Poncho?”
The sound of Patel’s voice made the worker jolt and turn around quickly as if he was startled. As Patel took a closer look, he saw that the worker was Poncho himself.
“Poncho! What’s going on?” Patel extended his hoof.
“Hey man,” said Poncho nervously, “did you wash that?”
“What?”
“Nevermind, what brings you here?” 
“Well,” began Patel.
“Hey! I thought I told you to stop using my catchphrase.” Poncho looked at him seriously, but Patel knew he wouldn’t do anything about it.
“Whatever. Anyways, long story short, we are all going to Amsterdam tomorrow and you are coming with us, as you are the last one on our list.” 
The mention of ‘being the last one on the list’ made Poncho extremely happy and he gave a short chuckle. “I get it. You saved the coolest dude you knew for last.”
“Yeah...that’s exactly what I did. You in or not? We have a big day ahead of us tomorrow.”
“Sure I guess.” 
“Great, remember this. Noon. Tomorrow. My house.”
Poncho nodded. “Got it.” As Patel was leaving, Poncho stopped him and spoke up. “Wait, is Pinkie Pie and the others going.
Patel turned around and began laughing. After a few chuckles, he glared right at Poncho. “Why in this world, that is illuminated by the great Moon, would any of them go?” 
“Well, I mean-”
“No, and for another thousand times, no. I don’t like them and most of the others don’t like them either. I don’t care either that Twilight is now some ‘bigshot’. Please for the love of everything good in this world, don’t turn into another Clyde. It’s because of that douche I even have to associate with them on few occasions.” 
“Well gosh dang almighty then.” Poncho then disappeared behind the aisles, looking for more food to buy and eat on his break. Patel walked out of the store and back to Wahlburn and Spike who were waiting on him.
“So, do you know where Poncho is?” asked Spike upon his return.
“Yeah, he was in there, he’s going.” 
“Finally, we are done,” sighed Wahlburn in relief. “Let’s head home. Tomorrow is going to be fucking awesome.”
“Yeah it is!” yelled Spike in excitement. They quickly drove home, anticipating the adventures that would soon befall them.