//------------------------------// // Satisfaction Guaranteed // Story: A Roll in the Hay // by Shahrazad //------------------------------// Big Mac sighed as he sat at the workbench in the cool shade of the barn, and glanced at the mail for the third time. He dipped the brush into the red paint can and tried to focus on the “canvas” in front of him. He had buried the offensive notice at the bottom of the stack, because he didn't want to see it, but it was still there. In big, bright, red letters, the note’s words burned in his mind. FINAL NOTICE! It has come to the attention of The First Ponyville Bank that your mortgage is overdue. This is to serve as your final notice. Please remit payment to bring your account balance into good standing by the end of the month or The First Ponyville Bank will proceed to claim the collateral on this loan… There was more, but it was just legalese. Fancy words on fancy paper, with fancy stallions in fancy suits to back it up. It was also a threat: pay up, or we’re taking your house, and putting you on the street. Applejack will be selling apples in the day and sleeping under her stall at night. Granny Smith is going to be put out to pasture. Apple Bloom is going to be taken by the state and put in a “nice” facility. We’re taking your home, family, and life. And we’re going to do it with a stylish letterhead. Buck them. Nope he thought, that’s not right. Ya owe tha bank tha bits after ya took out a loan ta pay for th’ new orchard. It was a good idea at the time, and the west field had been a boon to the farm, at least until this year. Now, with that dust storm that came out of the Everfree two months ago, and the rising price of water, the crop yield had been frightfully low. In addition to selling apples, Big Mac tried getting a part-time job at the newspaper, and even selling off some of his old collectibles (but not Smartypants!). He still didn't have enough. Big Mac sighed and continued to paint his sign. He felt a bit crude, but everything about this was crude, even the paint he used on the sign. He didn't plan to use red, but it felt appropriate. Maybe the whole idea came to him because of those three flower mares he overheard in the market last week while selling apples… ~~~~~ One week ago... Big Mac gently bucked the cart into place and it opened to reveal his meager wares. The apples were getting a bit overripe, and the usual spot he tried to sell them in wasn't drawing in customers. Probably because the harsh light of the midday sun let everypony know his apples were a dark, ugly red rather than a bright, healthy crimson. He settled behind the cart in the shade of the flower shop. Maybe the change in venue would help sales. It couldn't hurt. “Tee-hee-hee! Daisy! What would make you say that about Big Mac?” Lily’s voice came from the other side of the carnations. She sounded like she had just stumbled upon a lost bit. Big Mac’s ears swiveled forward. While the sun had inched its way over the horizon, few customers were in the market as of yet. Vendors often chatted with each other while setting up, but hearing his name caught Big Mac’s attention. “Well, you know what they say about a stallion with big hooves, right?” He heard Daisy’s voice this time. “Makes me wonder about the rest of him...” Big Mac’s eyes went wide, and he blushed an even brighter red; his legs felt like they had grown roots. Sigh “I wouldn't mind a nice stallion like Big Mac. If he offered to give me a roll in the hay, I don’t know what I’d do.” Big Mac heard Roseluck this time, and his mouth fell open. “You know what I heard? The grapevine says he’s a great way to relieve stress. Lots of mares think so.” Daisy’s voice again, but this time Big Mac almost shouted a reply. He’d never done anything of the sort! “Lots of mares? Like who?” Lily’s voice asked from beyond the daffodils. Yeah, who? thought Big Mac. “A lady never kisses and tells, you know…” “What are you three talking about?” Cheerilee? Big Mac’s heart did a backflip. Ever since Heart’s and Hooves day, he’d wondered about Cheerilee. They had gone on a couple of dates, but it would be a bit presumptuous to say she was his special somepony. He leaned in closer and put his ear to a line of tulip bouquets. “Oh you know, just mare talk. Say, Cheerilee, you know Big Mac, don’t you?” Roseluck asked. Her voice held a certain eagerness to it, like a foal asking if she could have another cookie. “What’s he like?” Cheerilee sighed. “Honestly, I can’t tell you much. I can hardly get more than two words out of him, and those words are ‘eeyup’ and ‘nope.’ I do think he’s got a big… heart.” Big Mac leaned in a bit closer; all he could hear was the rustling of leaves as one of them shifted a flower or two. Cheerilee’s voice was right in his ear. “But I’m sure I’ll be able to tell you more soon, I’m planning to see him next week. I’m sure he’ll agree to a date, don’t you think?” Startled, Big Mac turned his head and found himself nose to nose with Cheerilee. She had removed the bouquet from the shelf, revealing his face (or at least his ear). She smiled at him with a toothless grin, hiding him from the others with her head. He blushed furiously, nodded, then ducked away. Roseluck tittered, “You have to tell me all about him!” ~~~~~ Hopefully, nopony would talk about what would go on inside the barn today. Big Mac felt sweat dripping down his mane as he put the final nail into the sign and stood back to check his work. The sign only came up to his chin, but anypony along the road would be able to see it easily. In bright, red paint, it read: A ROLL IN THE HAY WITH BIG MCINTOSH: 50 BITS. SATISFACTION GUARANTEED. It also had a big, red arrow pointing at the barn door behind the sign. Big Mac gulped, entered the barn, sat down on the soft pile of hay he had set up next to an empty jar, and waited. By his count, he needed at least seven customers to make the mortgage payment tomorrow morning. He sat, sweating, in the cool shade of the barn, waiting for a customer. There probably won't be anypony to come a callin’. Not a lot o’ ponies come out by the farm anyway. I can jus’ set here and think o’ somethin’ ta say ta the banker tomorrow. Ah gotta convince him not ta foreclose on th’ farm. Maybe if Ah pay him half and explain— His thoughts were interrupted by the barn door creaking open. “Big Mac?” A pale-blue pegasus floated into the barn and landed with a soft cloud of dust around her hooves. Folding her wings back, Cloudkicker glanced around the barn for a second before her eyes adjusted. She found him seated on a pile of hay, hidden in shade. “There you are,” she said as she bucked the door closed. “I’m feeling a little tense. Think you could help me out?” She sashayed across the barn with bedroom eyes firmly locked on Big Mac. Without thinking, he responded, “N-nnnope!” She gave him an adorable pout while one wing reached into her saddle bag. Fifty bits clinked into his jar while she nuzzled into his chest, smiling. “How about now?” “Uhhh,” Big Mac’s brain locked up. What was he doing? It felt unreal. As Cloudkicker nuzzled into him, sniffing his musk, he instinctively wrapped his forelegs around her. Not tight, just like he would if you shoved a random object into his chest. She writhed against him, rubbing him like an itchy cat would rub against a soft couch, moaning quietly. Big Mac gulped and closed his eyes. She sniffed and whispered, “Oh, how I need this. What are you waiting for?” Her tail gently whipped him in the face, sending all sorts of pleasant sensations through his body. Big Mac opened his eyes and looked down. She was there, open, ready for him, and the way she touched him felt so good. She glanced down after a moment and tittered. “Oh my, Big Mac, you have such a big… hoof.” Big Mac gulped and said, “E-eeeyup.”