//------------------------------// // Chapter Five // Story: Step Up, Don't Suck // by KodyGears //------------------------------// *crunch crunch crunch* Man, this is one crisp apple. Enjoying your half hour break for lunch, you sit on one of the boxes to load (normally against the rules, but it’s a wooden crate filled with paper). You watch a few birds pass by overhead while you take another bite of apple, renewing the tangy yet sweet juice over your tongue. You savor every moment of your break, grateful for a chance to relax. . Allie hasn’t let up at all with the late night practice sessions, but thankfully she was going to give you something tonight that you had been looking forward to since the start of all this. A night off! Tomorrow is Saturday, the week before the big game, and your chance to show off your improvements against the competition. While that’s what Allie is excited for, you’re more happy with the fact that you’re finally getting a full night’s rest. Heck, you’ll probably hit the hay at 9 o’clock if you can manage it. Sleep, sleep, and more sleep. “Hey buddy,” says a deep voice beside you that nearly makes you jump. You look up to the brown pony in the hat and jump off the box. “Yeah, boss?” you ask. “I’ve heard talk yer gonna be in a Bowler’s Bet down at the alley next week,” he answers. “That a matter of fact?” Your eyes widen a bit at the idea that your boss could hear or care about such a thing. You thought this mess was at least contained to the alley itself. “Yes, sir,” you reply. “There was a distraction at the time, now my team’s roped into it.” He chuckles, his voice shaking like a loose bag of gravel. “I take it that’s what all the late night bowlin’s you told me about is for?” he inquires. You give a sheepish nod and shrug. “Well, good luck,” he offers, the gravelly chuckle present in his voice again. After he calms down a bit, he adds, “Y’know, I used to do a bit o’ bowlin’ in my time.” “Oh really?” you ask. “Yep. Saturday mornin’ league, just like they still got down there,” he says. “Now I didn’t have all them fancy equipment for resettin’ pins or nothin’. You’d see the ponies in the back waitin’ fer the ball to come by. That was their job, and it paid decent enough for schoolcolts,” he explains. Oh boy. Boss on a tangent. Activate the Nodding Uh-Huhs. “Uh-huh,” you reply with a nod.          “Yessiree, those were the times. Ponies would have to keep score on pen and paper, count how many pins they knocked over. Heh, I remember how many fights there’d be, colts claimin’ that they were fakin’ points and all. Have to start games back from the beginnin’ just because one pony said another was cheatin’!” “Uh-huh.” He lowers his flank, taking a seat beside you. His eyes drift to the ceiling. “I entered a couple’ve the big-shot tourneys m’self. I wasn’t the best or nothin’ but it was always a good load’ve fun. Heck, even managed to get a few wins too! Took home some trophies n’ medals!” “Uh-huh,” you say, lowering your head onto a hoof. “But these ol’ bones couldn’t keep goin’ forever. My dang bum shoulder gave out on me one day, couldn’t keep playin’. Still went down to th’ alley every now n’ then though, but lemme tell ya, bowlin’ with yer off-hoof? Funniest thing in this side of Equestria! Don’t think the gutter ever took so much abuse in its life!” “Uh-huh.” Your attention span starts to fade rapidly. “Since I couldn’t play no more, I decided to take my nephew down to th’ alley one day, and lemme tell ya, he was just a natural! Kid barely needed any help from me t’ tear up the pins! Took him a bit to get it, but he wouldn’t listen t’ me. Always was a bit of a hard head, but with a few throws, he found his own way of bowlin’. Never seen anypony pick it up fast as he did!” “Uh-huh.” Your eyes start to drift shut of their own will. “Yup, he was a star in the makin’, and now look at ‘im! Hard Ball’s one-a the best in town!” “Uh-huh-huh? Wait, what?” you say, pitch rising as you process what he just said. Your boss chuckles a little more. “Yeah. The one yer in that bet against.” The thought of you going up against the nephew of your boss strikes a little terror into your heart. “So, uh, you know what this bet means, right?” you ask, perhaps to gleam a hint as the fate of your employment should you happen to get Hard Ball kicked out. “Yep. Loser team loses a member. Pro’lly you,” he states. Ignoring the little comment of who may be the one to leave the alley, you try to get some more information. “But let’s just say, hypothetically, if my team were able to beat Hard Ball’s…” “Do ya’ really think they’d vote ‘im out?” he asks. “The best bowler on the team? Not likely.” He shakes his head. “Oh, well, um… okay, but I’ve been working hard,” you explain. “I’ve been making improvements.” “I bet ya’ have,” he quips. “So if I happen to stand a slim chance, and it turns out that luck’s on my side,” you continue, “what would happen if say-” “Do ya’ think I’m gonna fire you if y’all beat my nephew?” he interrupts. “Don’t you worry none. If he loses, that’s his fault. If he’s kicked out, that’s their fault.” He gives you an encouraging pat on the back. “‘Sides, he could stand to get knocked down a peg or two. Don’t let me get in the way o’ yer trainin’. Just sayin’, it’ll be a hard fought battle.” He gets up to let you finish your lunch and break. “Thanks,” you call out as he walks away. “Don’t mention it,” he responds. “He pro’lly does even care about the competition anyway…” you hear him grumble. You raise an eyebrow at his statement. Doesn’t care? Why would he force you into it if that were the case? Perhaps he’s having a change of heart? You might be able to talk him out of it tomorrow and be done with the whole thing, no harm done. The idea makes your chest flutter with excitement. Sure, Allie would be disappointed that all your training wouldn’t go towards destroying Hard Ball, but it’s better to know you’re not in danger of getting kicked out. Besides, getting called a chicken is better than not being allowed into the alley any day. You look back to the apple on the box. Only another bite or two left in the sweet fruit, but your appetite is long gone. There are more pressing matters at hoof, namly your work, as you see one of your coworkers give you a gesture, signaling he’s taking his time off. You nod and chuck the apple core into the waste bin beside you. Pushing yourself up from your flank, you head over to the loading station to finish your shift. ~*~*~ You place your hooves out in front of you a bit and stretch your back legs out, lowering your chest and feeling the oh-so satisfying relief of the muscles all throughout your back. You end the motion by going slightly limp with a sigh, shifting your hooves back under you and shaking your head a bit, tossing around your modestly damp mane. With the shift done, you decide to head home to get some much needed rest. Between the heavy lifting at work and the countless hours at the alley, you feel like you’ve earned one absurdly long nap. You give the boss a farewell before clocking out. As you leave the building, you find Ponyville to be quite peaceful outside. Only a few stragglers roam the streets, a bit odd considering it isn’t too late in the day. The sun has only just begun its descent to the horizon. You smile to yourself. Less ponies means less traffic to weave your way through to get home to your bed. Or couch. Or floor, whatever you happen to pass out on first. Not wanting to delay the inevitable any further, you steel your resolve and begin to march your way through the mostly empty streets. Hooves clacking on the cobblestone roads, the trip is mostly uneventful. You pass by a couple shops and stands that give you some ideas for the next time you need groceries. Suddenly, a noise from behind catches your attention. It’s a cart. Not just any cart, though. A kind of cart that you happen to be very familiar with. A cargo cart. By the sound of its wheels on the rock road, a really loaded one at that. Stepping off to the side, you wait for it to pass by so you can continue home. Much to your surprise, it doesn’t pass by you. In fact, it slows to a stop in front of you. “Look, here’s somepony we can ask,” says one of the two pullers. He has a beige coat with yellow mane. “We don’t need to ask! I got the directions right here!” protests the other pony pulling the cart. This one is gray with a black mane. Both look very well cut out for dragging heavy loads around. “Your directions had us going in circles for the last twenty minutes,” the first puller snips. “Let’s ask this guy. Hey buddy!” “Yeah?” “Can you tell us how to get to the bowling alley?” he asks. “We got a new arcade machine for the joint, but we can’t tell heads or tails of this place.” “Arcade machine? We only ordered that yesterday,” you state in a confused manner. “Fast delivery and unbeatable service!” the two cart pullers say in unison, proudly. “Well, if you take a right up there, go past the fountain, then around the building that looks like a giant gingerbread house, you should see it from there,” you explain, pointing with a hoof. “Right, fountain, gingerbread. Got it,” quips the second puller. “Thanks, buddy,” says the first cart puller as they begin to move away. “You’re welcome!” you call out to them. So the arcade machine is already on its way. Well, there goes the rest of Allie’s shift, you think with a chuckle. It might be fun to see her first reaction to it. Given her performance yesterday, seeing her get sucked into it would be something to tease her with later. With a new course planned, you set off down the nearest alley way. You may not have given those two ponies the fastest way to the establishment, but there are some roads better suited to those without huge carts to pull. Heck, you might even be able to get there before they unload if you’re quick enough. You find yourself reinvigorated, and you’re not entirely sure why.Perhaps it’s because you want to beat the delivery colts to their destination? Or are you just excited to see how Allie reacts? You’re not sure, but whatever the case, you get the feeling you’ll regret running there in your current state, but that’s a problem for future you. You cut a sharp corner around some of the tight knit buildings, dodging some trash bags along the way. Sifting your way over the debris of the backroads, you hop over a box or two in your trek. You almost bump into a purple coated pegasus as your round another corner. You apologize as you continue onward. In a matter of moments, you come upon the bowling alley. From the looks of it, the delivery wagon has yet to arrive. You do an internal hoof pump before feeling a bit lightheaded. You forgot that the only thing you’ve eaten recently was that apple at break time; hardly enough fuel for running around town. You shake your head again to regain your bearings, walking slowly towards the alley. Interestingly enough, you find that Allie is actually sitting on the bench at the entrance, casually flipping through the pages of a magazine in her hooves. Looks to be a copy of the latest issue of… House Fancy? If you were to guess, judging from her bored expression, she probably just plucked a random magazine from the kiosk to read. As you approach, she glances up from her booklet and spots you. Her expression changes in an instant, switching to a bright eyed smile. She throws the magazine onto the bench and hops up, prancing forward to greet you. “Well hi there! Fancy seeing you here!” You chuckle a bit. “It’s not that fancy, seeing as I come here almost every day, remember?” “No, I mean Fancy here,” she explains, tapping the front cover of the magazine. It displays a white pony with two-tone blue mane and monocle, known throughout many regions as ‘Fancy Pants’. “Seeee…” she mumbles out, holding up the magazine like a mask. “Seeeeee.” As she pushes the magazine towards you, you reach up to stop the picture of the dapper unicorn on a collision course with your muzzle. As the paper comes in contact with your hoof, she blows a raspberry. “Bleh, you’re no fun.” She then haphazardly tosses the magazine behind her, causing it to land on the bench behind her in an inglorious fashion. “So what brings you here? I figured you’d be napping all day.” You shrug. “Just figured I’d stop by and be here to welcome the...!” you say, dramatically waving a hoof in the direction of the main road. Allie looks down the path where you point to, raising a brow. “...Wwwwelcome the what?” You stare awkwardly down the road as your hopes of looking sly start to fade away. “You know, the uh…” The corners of her pursed lips start to curl up into a smug smile as her eyes turn back to you. “Trying to be cool and it didn’t work out? You lower your hoof and head, sighing in a bit of defeat. “Universe conspires against you sometimes, y’know?” She just gives a solemn nod. This isn’t the first time a big lead up has fallen flat in front of Allie. The weeks of bowling have shown time and time again that you can’t catch a break. But still, you came all this way. Might as well ask what she’s reading. “So what do you have there?” you ask. “Magazine,” she says. Apparently she didn’t even think the title of it important enough to mention or even commit to memory. “I see that,” you reply. “What’s it about?” “I ‘unno,” she responds with a shrug. “I’m just seeing how many funny words I can spell through the paragraphs.” She opens it up to the page she was saving and points to a passage. “See here? It says dinkburgle.” Looking at where she drags her hoof, you do see the letters arranged to spell such a phrase. The letters aren’t straight, but definitely close enough to see. “Ha. That’s quite the coincidence,” you chuckle. “I don’t know about that.” She looks at the magazine again, a smirk over her face. “I think it might be an inside joke with the writers.” “Really?” you ask with a smirk of your own. “Seems way too intentional. Maybe it’s a secret code!” she announces suddenly. “Fancy Pants and the housing market conspiring together!” She’s starting to get a little loud. “Running the top of the Canterlot elite and nobles with the dreaded dinkburgle!” “I think that’s enough.” You don’t have the energy to keep up with her right now. “What are you doing out here, anyway?” “Meh. Just getting some fresh air.” She throws her hooves above her in a stretch. “Too much time on the games?” you tease, nudging her side. She nudges you back, pushing your leg away. “Muhnehneh. I was just defending my turf.” You deadpan to her. “Crushing another seven year old colt on Mortal Kombat?” “It’s not my fault he was playing a game way out of his age group. And nopony is gonna beat me in that game, as you know very well!” She accentuates her statement by sticking her pink tongue out at you. You chuckle a bit. “I almost get the sense you have some sort of superiority complex over videogames.” She blows a raspberry as she turns her head away from you, flinging her ponytail around her neck. “No I do not! I just want to be the very best like nopony ever was!” she says, slightly singing the last few words. “Just like I’m gonna do with the new game that’s coming to the alley!” “You’re not gonna no-life it until you get a flawless high score, are you?” you ask. “It’s not ‘no-lifing,” it’s called dedication!” she says as she starts to rub her hooves together with an oddly menacing look upon her face. “Dedication to my name, my legacy, my score! I’m gonna be the unbeatable arcade champ of the bowling alley, and nopony will ever defeat me! Mwah hah hah hah ahah!” She ceases her wicked laughter as she comes back to reality, drawing her hooves close to her chest as she looks at your flat expression. “Oversold it?” You nod. “Just a wee bit.” You pull your attention off of her to look down the road. Almost on a whim, the delivery cart from earlier turns the corner, eliciting a smile from you. “Speaking of games, take a look.” Allie gaze follows your prompting. As soon as she sees the familiar trolley, she springs to her legs with a great smile, dancing on her hooves. “Oooh, yes! Finally!” “Finally? It’s been just one day,” you comment, “and you weren’t even excited about it at first.” “That was before it was coming and so it wasn’t a thing,” she explains. “Now there’s an actual thing to be excited about and I wasn’t excited before because there was nothing. But now here it is, so therefore, I am excited.” You raise an eyebrow. “Any reason you’re extra goofy as of late?” you ask. She shrugs. “Not that I can think of.” “You sure it’s not sleep deprivation getting to you?” you press on. “Pfft. Like ponies actually need to lie on their back with their eyes closed for a third of a day,” she brushes off with the swipe of her hoof. As she talks, you get an idea. Opening your mouth, you loudly breathe in and then do and extended exhale. “We could be doing so much more in that time- hey, what are you doing? No, no, don’t do thaaaaa-aaauuuhh.” She brings a hoof over her mouth to cover her sudden yawn. In response, you simply give her the biggest smile you can manage. She looks at you with the same annoyed look you’ve probably shot her many times. “You suave, smug little-” “But he said left at the fountain!” you hear one of the cart pullers exclaim. “I thought I knew a shortcut,” the other replies. “You’ve never been in this town before!” “Oh, yeah, because you know this place like the back of your freakin’ hoof, right?” “Says the guy who don’t know east from west! You wouldn’t even-” “Ahem.” You clear your throat audibly, catching the attention of the two bickering stallions. They flinch before turning to you with blank expressions, then cock their eyebrows in unison. One of them speaks up. “Wait a minute, weren’t you the guy that just…?” He points off in the other direction to the other side of town. “Mhmm. I see you two found your way here easily?” you tease. The gray colt gives the other a stern eye, who returns it with equal venom. “Well, we would have gotten here sooner if dunderhead here didn’t forget his rights from his lefts.” His brow furrows at the remark as he responds, hissing through his teeth. “Let’s not do this here…” You almost speak up, but find yourself suddenly looking at Allie’s neck as she walks in front of you. “Wow, I’m amazed you guys got here with it so fast! I wasn’t expecting it the day after we ordered it!” You open your mouth to speak again, but are cut off as the two stallions speak in near-perfect unison, their frowns and spite completely replaced with smiles and glee. “Fast delivery and unbeatable service!” My flank, you think to yourself. With a tiny roll of your eyes, you step around Allie to face the delivery boys once again. “Let’s take it to the back, we can unload it there.” “Yes sir!” one of the colts says, keeping his place to give a salute to you. The other colt, on the other hoof, tries to start moving immediately, causing the trolley to jostle at the opposing movements of the haulers. They give each other split second frowns before regaining composure, moving in unison to wheel the trolley around the building. You look back to Allie who is now drumming her hooves against the ground. “Anxious?” you ask. “Maybe a bit,” she confesses. “I can’t wait to start getting the unbeatable score on that machine!” You chuckle. At this point, you would challenge Allie in some way, shape, or form as to the possibility of you claiming such a high score for yourself. However, you’ve seen the lengths that mare will go when she’s fixated on something. There was an urban myth you remember reading about sometime back about the collective energy of the bees in a standard beehive. Apparently, if you took all the force from every buzzing wing and harnessed it, you could break through a brick wall. That describes Allie’s brain almost to a tee. Instead, you decide to shift the conversation. “So how long until your break is over?” “Big Wig’s out, so whenever I say it is,” she replies. “You’re a true leader, Allie,” you tease. She leans back and puts her hooves behind her head. “I earned my position. I get the right to abuse certain privileges if I see fit.” “What was that?” you ask with a chuckle, not quite sure you heard her right. “Nothing!” she replies cheerfully as if nothing was off. She drops her hooves back down and stands up. “Let’s go see if those guys need any help.” A little dread builds in the back of your mind as you remember the trouble they had finding the place with directions. You both trot into the building and look around. However, the two delivery colts are nowhere around. No sign they had dropped off the new game, either. “Where are they?” you inquire. Allie snickers. “You don’t think they got lost going around the building, do you?” You shrug. Given how apt they are with direction, you can’t say you refute the possibility. You walk over to their trolley in hopes to find them. As you draw near, you start to her some hooves shifting about inside, along with accompanying voices. “Dude, just get the side, I can carry-” “No, you get the side! I got this!” Your head droops slightly. Are they serious?!, you think to yourself. So much for reliability. You trot around to the open end of the cart and peer inside. You find the two colts are bickering once again, glaring daggers at one another. They’re busy undoing all the straps holding down the game machine’s box, but still find time to fling insults at one another between each one. The sound of hooves approaching from behind gets you to pull your head away. Allie has caught up to you and gives you a look that seems to ask what’s going on. You simply roll your eyes in response, turning back into the truck. You step forward a bit and call out to the two stallions. “Hey, guys? Need a hoof with that?” The two drop their glaring gazes in a flash and turn to you, putting on cheeky smiles. One of them speaks up. “Oh, well, uh, sure! We kinda underestimated how heavy this thing would be.” “Yeah, we didn’t load it ourselves, the guys at the shop did,” the other colt pitches in. “Had no idea it’d give us this much trouble!” You decide to keep any snide comments to yourself and nod. “Alright, just slide it over here and lower it onto me, and we can go from there.” The colts nod in unison and set about the task of sliding the machine forward. You turn your flank to the cart and plant your hooves firmly to the ground. As the machine is slid forward with a grinding hiss on the floor of the cart, Allie trots over to your side and puts a hoof to her chin. “You sure you can get this?”        she asks, concern lingering on her words. “Would you rather just leave it to these guys?” you whisper with a tiny nod behind you. “Hey, you didn’t undo all the ones on your side!” you hear one of them shout. “That was on your side!” “How can it be on my side when I’m over here!?” Allie sucks in a little air through her teeth before giving you a pat on the back in confidence. Hearing what you assume is the final strap, its forward progress resumes. When it reaches the end, you call out, “Now tilt it carefully down. When I’ve got it, one of you get the dolly and we’ll wheel it in.” For a while, you don’t hear anything behind you. No confirmation that they understand, no okay to keep going, not even the sound of them moving the box any further. Until finally, you hear a single, solitary, “Uh…” “Please tell me you have a dolly,” you state flatly. One of them chimes in with, “Well, sometimes my daughter on stormy nights-” “Not that kind of dolly!” you interrupt, your sleep-deprived patience wearing thin. “A cart of some kind? A board with wheels on it? Anything of the sort?” “No, we don’t usually use those sorts of things,” the other answers. “Then how were you planning on getting it in the building and into place!?” you nearly yell in frustration. “We normally just roll it in,” he explains. “One end over the other.” “Allie, do you have anything in a storage closet? Something you move supplies with?” you plead. She shakes her head. “Nothing that would be able to take the weight of that thing.” You put a hoof over your face as you realize for this new game to have a chance of surviving, then you’re in for the literal long haul. “Just tip it down. We’ll walk it in,” you command. “You sure?” one of them asks. “Yeah, just do it,” you respond. You just want to get this in and over with. “Can I do anything?” Allie inquires, stepping towards you. “Maybe help, uh, lift it in?” The hesitation is clear in her voice. “Just get the door. I think we’d just get in the way of each other.” She gives you a look filled with a mix of relief and apology. Going over to hold the door, you turn back to the delivery stallions. “Alright, let’s get this thing in.” The creaking wood makes you a little nervous, but hopefully it won’t be too terrible. “Here it comes!” one of them calls out. Slowly, you feel the crate getting leant down onto your back. As the weight settles, you remember the words of your boss on your first day of the job. Particularly when he dropped a box of lead weights on his hoof. CELESTIA BUCKING DISCORD ON A POGO STICK! This thing easily weighs at least 140 kilograms! Your legs nearly buckle under it. “Wait wait wait, forward and set it down!” you cry out. Taking whatever steps you can, you manage to get it away from the truck enough to be able to lean it against the ground. You take a couple ragged breaths just from the few seconds of exertion. “Are you really sure about this, buddy?” one of the movers asks again. “Y-Yeah…” you say shakily. “Hard part’s over. Just… I’ll be the cart. Pick it up from the back there, lean it against me, and we’ll go slowly,” you explain. “ When I say stop, gently lower back down, okay?” “On it!” one of the colts calls out. The weight of the box starts to rise up again, putting more pressure on your back. You can’t look back to see what they’re doing with the width of the box cutting off your view, so you can only hope they don’t have butter hooves. Your legs start to bend a little at the knees as the box rises off the ground slightly, but eventually it stables out. “Okay, okay,” you say quietly. “Start moving forward, I’ll lead.” You only hear grunts of seemingly positive nature in response. With no time to lose, you start to shuffle your hooves forward in small steps, taking care to keep your back as straight as possible. The box digs into your skin a bit, with one specific nail in a very precarious spot on your spine, but you can only bite your lip and crawl through the agitation. There is a bit of fumbling about on the back end of the crate that you try to account for with your steps. Hopefully those guys don’t get into another petty argument before you can put this thing down. Slowly but surely, your steps bring you closer and closer to the back entrance where Allie is waiting with her head peering around the edge of the doorway. Her horn glows its usual blue as she holds the door open as wide as she can with a grin on her face. Her simple smile is strangely reassuring, and only prompts you to take swifter steps. At least, you would, but you don’t exactly trust those guys back there to keep pace. After a bit of grueling carrying, you reach the door. Allie backs away beyond the wall, giving you more room to walk in. Taking a few glances between the box and the door, you call out to the stallions. “Keep it steady, the box will be a tight fit!” You hear a snicker. Your eyes seem to roll of their own accord. “Got it?” “Y-Yes sir!” You snort. Allie gives you a look of concern as you’re about to breach the door. You give her a weak smile and focus back on the door in front of you. You very slowly lift a hoof beyond the step up and lift a bit, bringing the box end up with you. The stallions grunt a bit as you rise and you take swifter steps to get the heavier load off of them as quick as you can. The box makes small scrapes on either side of the doorway with each step you take. You can’t really help it though; all you can manage to do is try to get it through with as few knicks and gashes as you can. You keep your hooves walking in a perfectly straight line down into the backroom, aiming for as little damage as possible. Eventually, you stop in place once the majority of the box has passed through the door. “Alright, stop! Lower it!” Without a word out of the stallions, you feel the weight of the box descend until it touches the floor with a clunk! “Here,” she offers. “Let me hold it up, you get out from under it.” You wave a hoof, declining her offer as you catch your breath. She furrows her eyebrows. “Come on. You got it off the truck and this far, let me get it the rest of the way.” “Nope. Not a chance,” you reply. “There’s simply no way that would happen.” “What, you think I’m not strong enough?” she asks in a bit of a huff, almost daring you to challenge her in that regard. Her competitive side is showing, but thankfully you don’t have to pick and choose your words for your reasoning. “Allie, I don’t think you’re not strong enough,” you explain. “You’re just too tall.” “What?” she asks. It’s true that Allie is taller and lankier than your average pony. She’s almost a full head over you, but then again, you tend to slouch a bit. Allie’s upright, full height everywhere she goes. “The angle at which these guys would have to lift? They’d be taking almost all of the weight instead of the even dispersal we have now,” you continue, gesturing with a hoof behind you. “Well, what if I were to crouch down?” she persists. You shake your head. “Bent while carrying this? Good luck. You’d probably have a tough time keeping it steady like that.” “Yeah, I vote we go with his plan!” says one of the stallions behind you. Allie looks disappointed that her offer to help was rejected. There’s not a lot of room to handle this and more would just bring a greater risk of toppling it over. However, she brings a hoof to her chin for a moment. Eventually, she smirks and brings that hoof up to the cream colored horn beneath the wave of two-tone blue hair. “How about this?” she offers. You bite your lip as you think. On the one hoof, an experienced magic user could lighten the load and keep it stable. However, you have rarely seen Allie use magic, even for things like lifting objects or writing. Top on that almost a week of less than an adequate amount of sleep per night, you really have your doubts. “Whoa, watch it!” you hear on of the two shout as the box suddenly shifts to the left. They can’t even keep it steady when it’s on the ground? You sigh with desperation. If you’re ever going to get this inside, you need all the help you could get. “Okay, fine. But just remember, stop immediately if I tell you to. Alright, Allie?” you ask. She gives a smile and salute. “Just tell me when!” “When we lift. You guys ready?” you ask behind you. “Okay, lift!” you call out. The weight returns onto your back as you begin walking again. A light glows from the box as you feel a slight tingly sensation from it. Allie’s magic makes the box stay still as you move. It even seems a little lighter as she tries to lift some of the burden. Looking over, you see Allie with her squinting eyes, scrunchy nose, and tongue hanging out the side of her mouth. You would have laughed if you weren’t carrying almost 150 kilograms. . With her help, you’re actually able to make it all the way to the arcade section. Stopping just short of where you plan on putting the game, you give the command to set the box down. “Okay, tilt it upright!” you say, pushing back. The two behind you and Allie guide it carefully so it touches down softly. Stepping away from the crate, you look at your work. Hauled from the truck to here. Had you been at work, you’d probably would have had to make the trip at least six more times. Still, now is enough to let you breath a sigh of relief. “Oh my, is that the new game?” you hear from behind you. Big Wig steps around the corner and inspects the crate you just brought in. “I certainly didn’t expect it to get here so quickly!” “Fast delivery and unbeatable service!” the duo say again. You hear Allie make a noise akin to a guh as your eyes go half-lidded. “Well bust my britches, boys!” the boss mare says. “That’s probably the fastest we’ve ever gotten one in! I’ll make sure ya get a good review outta this alley!” Both you and Allie open your mouths to object, but one of the colts suddenly blurts out. “Thank you ma’am! We do our best! But for now, we got a lotta other deliveries to make! Gotta jet!” After the other colt nods rapidly in agreement, they suddenly bolt for the door, getting caught in the frame as they both try to exit at the same time. After a bit of scuffling, they finally force themselves out and the door slams shut behind them. You glance over to Allie to find she has her cheeks puffed out with a very displeased look in her eyes. You know that look; she wants to say something, but knows there would be no point. “Well, I’ll be!” you hear Big Wig pipe in and turn to face her again. “I heard some bumpin’ and scrapin’ comin’ from over here and thought I might need to lend a hoof, but I see ya got everythin’ handled!” she says, tapping the crate with a hoof. You rub your neck. “Ah, yeah… everything’s under control just fine.” Allie shoots a glare to you with her cheeks still puffed out. Big Wig nods. “Mhmm! ...Allie, you get stung by some bees or somethin’?” She stares at her for a second before slowly and dramatically blowing the air out of her cheeks. “Nope. Just… taking a breath.” The boss chuckles. “Well do it with your lungs, not your cheeks, girl!” She gives the crate another tap with her hoof. “Think y’all could handle settin’ this up for me? I got some more business to take care of in the front.” You nod. “Yeah, shouldn’t be too much of hassle.” “Great! I’ll be back in just a few!~” she says, slightly singing the last few words. She turns and trots away out of view around the corner. You and Allie turn to the box still left waiting to be opened. She glances at you with, “Any ideas?” “Crowbar or hammer would be best. Have any around?” you ask. “One is the storage closet, I think,” she replies as she begins to step in said direction. “Just a moment!” As she takes off, you look at the crate, deciding with side would be best to start. The nails on the wood seem to attach it circularly; the one before attaching it to the one next. This strikes you as strange because it’s ultimately an inferior packing method than just two sets on either side. Although as soon as the phrase ‘inferior packing method’ comes to mind, you remember the two ponies that delivered it. Stepping up to look at the top, you see that it’s at least attached in a sane manner. Nails all around securing it down. That’d probably be the best place to start. “Hammer time!” Allie calls out. “You’re lucky. Normally the pony who uses this takes it home with him. “What’s he use it for?” you ask as you take the hammer and inspect it. “Well, it’s normally for putting in new base wood under the lanes, but since we’ve had so few problems, I think he used it to crack nuts,” she explains. Looking at the head, you see some crumbs crushed against the face of it. Good thing that’s not the part you need. The claw looks more than sturdy enough. “One arcade game, coming up!” you announce as you step up again to wedge the claw into the gap between the wood. With some grunts, some creaking, and a crack here and there, the top of the box slowly raises up and off. Inside, you see the prize. Now, the phenomenon known as ‘new game smell’ is one you rarely get to experience. However, here and now, you get to look over the top and breathe in the scent of a brand spanking new arcade cabinet. Mmm. Smells like markers and linen. “Hey, I want to sniff!” Allie says as she joins you up over the box. She can reach the opening much easier than you can. She even has some ability to put her nose down into the box for a closer whiff. You giggle as she takes in a long and exaggerated breath through her nose. “How is it?” you tease. “Smells like… possibility,” she replies. That gets a bit more of a laugh out of you as she goes back for another smell. As much as you’d love to get it hooked up as soon as possible, you can’t resist taking one more sniff of such a rare opportunity. Sure, the chemically scent may be killing off a couple brain cells, but you’re sure to lose a lot more to this machine. “Hoo… alrighty,” you say. “Let’s get this thing out and…” Your voice trails off as you see Allie almost muzzle deep in the box, taking long, deep whiffs. You reach over and give her tail a tug, causing her to yank her head away in surprise. “Let’s get this thing out and set it up before one of us ends up getting high.” “Oh, yeah, uh, alright,” she responds, coughing into her hoof once. You shake your head with a quiet chuckle before reaching back down to the hammer. Scooping it up in your hoof, you lift it to the side of the box and wedge it into the corner. With a bit of pressure, the nails squeakily give way, leaving the side awkwardly hinged from the other corner. You move over and force the crowbar into the other end and push, breaking the resistance on this side as well. With both sides open, you manually push down on the flimsy wood, forcing it down as the bottom panel cracks with the pressure. Delicacy is of little issue; the box can be recycled with ease. After a few more jams of the hammer and splintering of wood, you manage to force down all the sides of the box. Allie giddily bounces on her hooves all the while. A mare of her age shouldn’t be this excited over a relatively simple arcade game, but you can’t exactly say that you aren’t excited either. You toss aside the high grade foam packaging that is stuffed on every corner of the console and gaze upon the machine in its full glory. The bulk of the machine is painted black while the paneling on the sides bear the bulk of the eye-catching design. Multiple, flashy explosions are depicted upon a cool blue starry background, with lasers penetrating floating stones. A sleek spacecraft is shown as well, right in front of what appears to be a bright star. The sight of it gives you an internal chuckle. The actual game always ends up being a stark contrast to the grandiose flair of the machine. Among the panel is a plethora of buttons big enough for a hoof to press, yet small enough to fit enough buttons for two players. Above the simple TV like screen embedded behind the glass is a flashy title card depicting the game’s name, Asteroids. The smell of the machine lingers fresh from the woodwork and you can’t help but take another indulgent sniff. You’re brought back to reality, however, as an overly excited mare grips your shoulders and violently shakes you. “Plug it in already! I gotta play!” “A-Allie!” you say between bounds of whiplash. “Calm down! Just help me slide it to the wall!” Her hooves seem to magically teleport from your shoulders to the side of the cabinet for she is ready to push in an instant. Putting down the hammer, you test the weight on the other side to see just how you’re going to get it off the final piece of the box its sitting on. Maybe with a little back and forth tilt-turning, you can do it. “Okay, we need to lift it off of the bottom of the box,” you explain to Allie. “Just tip and turn it on its edge and it should be easy. Soon as we’re on the floor, it’ll be a straight slide.” “Roger!” Allie confirms. “Let’s go on three.” Sounds good. You wake your position and wait for her to begin the countdown so you can start- “THREE!” With only a shrill yelp of warning, the machine suddenly tips your direction and catches you completely off guard. Scrambling to keep it from falling over, she pushes it so the front corner is off the box and over the floor. Following her lead, a quick push in the opposite direction gets the other half of the machine off the wood and onto the tile. After that, just one final shove from you both puts it into place among its electronic brethren. Stepping back with pride, you look to Allie. “I think you forgot a couple numbers,” you say. “Omitted for the sake of efficiency,” she replies. “Now plug it in before I shake you again.” You look around the machine and up and down the wall. “Actually, wouldn’t you know where the outlet is better than I would?” “Yeah, you’d think. And I do. Step aside.” She trots up to the wall as well, looking back and forth. “There it is!” you hear her call out. She leans in and reaches behind the machine before reaching around the machine next to it. You see the screen flash for a brief moment. You think there’s a little movement on the bottom, but soon enough, the game loads into its default state. A pixelated ship stands in the middle of a field of colorful rocks with the words INSERT COIN displayed. Some fizzling crackles of the old sounds play through the speakers and hum into your ears. “There we go!” Allie says with excitement in her voice. “Now because you didn’t plug it in, I’m gonna shake you.” As she leans towards you with her hooves reaching out, you hold up your own defensively. “Wait a moment!” you protest. “Shake me or play the game first?” Her hooves freeze in the air before turning and landing on the button and joystick of the arcade machine. “You get off easy this time,” she quips and she digs a bit out of the front pocket of her polo shirt. Inserting it into the machine, it drones to life and thrusts her immediately into the game. With full control of the ship, she wastes no time in spinning around and firing random shots that, more often than not, hit nothing. That’s generally how it begins with her. She takes a couple dozen bits before getting a handle on the controls. After that, it’s just a matter of how long her fortitude will last until she throws her hooves up in acceptance of her high score. Up until that happens, however, nopony will have a snowflake's chance in Tartarus of trying their hoof at the game. As such, it doesn’t take long before her little ship gets totalled by a passing pebble. She lets out a bah as she dips into her pocket again and fishes out another coin. “Well,” you interrupt. “Seems to be working just fine then!” “What makes you think it wouldn’t have?” Allie responds, keeping her eyes glued to the black and white screen. “Considering the delivery service behind it, I had my doubts…” She shrugs. “Hm, point made. Just glad you caught the- DARN IT!” She plops another bit in as her ship explodes spectacularly. “I’m glad you caught those guys and sent ’em here. Could have taken them hours to get here. More time where they could have screwed up the game.” “Oh, right,” you say, rubbing your neck a bit. “Just seems like they needed the help.” “The help? Hah! You could have liffffFFNNGG!” Clink goes another coin. “You could have lifted this thing by yourself! Never knew you were so beefy!” “Beefy?” you tilt your head. “I dunno about that, I’m no bigger than other colts.” “I mean you’re no ripped stud or anything, but I didn’t know you were such a strong guy!” she says between her idle leaning. She always feels the need to mimic what she does in game. You shrug, directing your gaze elsewhere. “Eh, I’m really not that strong. Not any more than other colts-” You’re cut off as you hear a pair of hooves slamming down onto the machine. You turn back to her to find her staring at the screen angrily. You look at the game to find her ship is still intact, only to be destroyed by an asteroid moments later. You turn to her in confusion and watch as she whips her head to look at you straight on. “Why do you do that?” she asks plainly. “Do what?” you reply. She pauses for a moment before responding. “We’re going to win the game on Saturday, right?” Your eyebrow raises at the sudden upbringing of that topic. “Uhh… I want to say yes, but I really don’t see it happening, considering-” “There, that!” she interjects, pointing a hoof at you. “You always do that!” You back up just a smidge with a confused look upon your face. “W-What? I always do what?” “Anytime somepony says something, no matter what it is, you always always ALWAYS disagree!” she says with an accusatory tone. “Why?” “What? But… no I don’t!” you protest. “See? Right there!” She points a hoof at you so close, she nearly touches your nose. “Every time! When I say you can bowl, you say you need practice. When I say practice is helping, you’ll say it doesn’t.” Her eyes narrow. “Buying fries, your ability to bowl, play games, or even your own strength, you can’t take a compliment.” Seeing as disagreeing with her will only make her think she’s furthering her point, you decide to switch up your arguing strategy. “Alright, Allie. If I always disagree with somepony, then can you give me an example? One where I’m not just pointing out the obviously false?” you ask. She smirks. Oh dear, she may just have something in mind. “I talked to Treble a couple days ago,” she begins, “and he said that you were completely confident that we could beat Hard Ball.” You remember that conversation. You said that mostly to keep him from getting even angrier. “When he said we were doomed, you jumped in and said that we could do it,” Allie explains, her hoof still right in front of your muzzle. “Then, some time after that, I believe you ran into Sea Swirl.” The memory of that exchange comes back as well. “You were practically shouting how we were going to win! Any time anypony may have thought we didn’t stand a chance, you told them otherwise.” She punctuates her point by reaching her hoof forward to close the gap and boop your nose. “Okay, okay…” you admit, leaning back to rub your recently booped nose. “Maybe I’m a little wishy-washy on this thing and I just wanted to keep them from freaking out.” “But did you believe it?” she presses. “Did you not say with your head held high, hooves firmly on the ground, that we could win?” “I, uh, maybe?” you offer. You expect her to scowl at you, roll her eyes, or do something else in disapproval of your non-committal stutter. Instead, what she does is much worse. She turns toward you, full body and all away from the game. Her mouth is just a small stoic frown, her ears drooped back, and her eyes look at you wide and clear. Not the puppy dog eyes she uses to beg for something, but instead seemingly a genuine sadness that completely betrays her normal happy-go-lucky nature. You almost feel a cold breeze blow by as she slowly places her hoof on your shoulder. “What if I were to say that we had no chance at all?” she asks. “That all the time we spent practicing, all the nights we lost sleep, were all for nothing?” “If you said it?” you ask to confirm. She nods and you look away in thought. “Then… I don’t know what I’d say.” “Why’s that?” she pushes on. “Why am I the one you’d believe if I said we couldn’t win?” “Because… you’re the one I actually kind of believe when you say we can,” you admit. She pauses for a moment. You hoped your answer would make her happy, but instead her cold, stony gaze seems to get harder. “So how do you think I feel?” she finally asks to break the silence. “That when I set up our practice sessions, coach you every step of the way, you still feel the need to downplay yourself? Especially when I hear about you telling others how much you’ve improved, how much better your game is, and how you actually say we’re going to win?” “I-I’m sorry,” you stutter. “I just... What would you like, Allie? What would you like me to do?” She thinks for another moment, her eyes actually travelling away for an instant. Looking you in the eye again, she says, “I know you’re tired and I know you know that I’m tired, too. As much as I try to hide it.” She shakes her head. “And every time you question yourself, I can’t help but question, too. Not you, but me and myself. In my ability to teach you. My insistence on practicing being worth it.” She reaches up with her other hoof and places it on your other shoulder. “I just want to hear you say it to me. For all the ponies you’ve told, tell me that we can beat Hard Ball.” Her voice, suddenly without its usual flair and gusto, somehow becomes more impactful upon reaching your ears. You reach up to put your own hooves on her shoulders, like how she’s holding you. Taking in a deep breath, you prepare yourself to go against every instinct to tell her what she wants to hear. “We can do it. We can beat Hard Ball.” No warping inflections, no stuttering, no iffy voice cracking. The sentence is stated plainly and simply. Slowly, her smile grows back onto her face. Life and color returns to her features as she leans in, wrapping her hooves around your back and pulling you into a hug. “Thank you,” she says. Your heart skips a beat as her chest comes in contact with yours. Her body is surprisingly warm and you can feel the faint beat of her heart against you. It takes a second for your brain to register that you should probably hug her back and you slowly move your hooves behind her. You pat her back in the embrace and it only causes her to squeeze you a bit tighter. You’ve had plenty of hugs from Allie before; usually the simple arm draped over the shoulder, cheek nuzzle to the side of the head variety. Sometimes you would be on the receiving end of a surprise hug from behind whenever she wanted to give you a spook. Only on brief occasions did she grace you with a full blown hug like this one, such as when you win a particularly close game. However, this one seems… different. Her hooves drape over your shoulders in a much more relaxed fashion. She’s not in her usual chipper attitude, giggling as she squeezes you like a child with a teddy bear. Just a very relaxed, totally at ease embrace. Even her breathing seems serene and you can feel the calm rising and falling of her chest against yours. Perhaps her serenity is a result of the chat you just had, but it’s not the first down-to-earth discussion you’ve had with her. In those cases she would just rebound with a smile. This is probably the most still you have ever seen her, funnily enough. As odd as it is, it’s surprisingly nice. A powerful contrast to her normal nature and one that provides a much needed relaxant to the situation you’ve found yourself in these last few days. Admittedly, it’s not something you would mind being subjected to again... The contact is enjoyable, you won’t lie, but the remnants of the crate you just tore apart are still laying on the ground behind Allie. You rub a hoof over her back a bit and her hug lingers just a biiiit longer than you expect. You cough into your hoof to get her attention, causing her to pull her head back a bit and look at you. You point to the dismantled box, directing her gaze at it. She blushes just a tiny bit upon seeing it. “Oh, right,” she utters, pulling herself off of you with pink cheeks. She releases her grip on you and stands up, pulling you up with a hoof. The two of you walk over to the planks of wood and exchange looks. Allie simply nods with a smile and you return the gesture. You lower your head and brace your hooves as her horn illuminates. One by one, she lifts the planks with her magic, setting them upon your back. She keeps them steady with a small bit of her magic as the majority is focused on lifting the other planks. Without the machine inside them the planks are hardly an issue to hold up. Walking them out the same way you came in, Allie’s magic opens the doors wide enough for you to walk through without any major shifting of the wood on your back. Looking around the corner is the big green dumpster where most of the waste of the bowling alley ends up. As you plan on how to get these large pieces of wood from your back the dumpster, you feel them suddenly start to want to pull up. The glow of Allie’s aura is brighter than ever as she attempts to lift it all in. As much as she’d hate to admit it, her magic skills aren’t anywhere near as polished as her bowling skills. Magical training outside of Canterlot is rare and the majority of the unicorn public never see a day of formal training with spells. Still, this time with a guiding hoof of your own, you lift the now seemingly featherweight planks up over the side, where they fall with a crash as Allie lets go. “Teamwork!” Allie announces with a little raising of her foreleg. You give a simple nod in agreement and begin to walk back into the building. As you pass Allie, she holds out a hoof and grabs your own foreleg. “If I may just see something?” she asks. The sudden contact surprises you, but you calmly ask, “Sure, what do you want to see?” “Raise your arm,” she commands. She begins feeling over it with both her hooves, her light touches almost tickling up and down from shoulder to tip. With a few little pokes here and a couple little pokes there, you’re not sure what she’s looking for. “Could you flex for me?” she requests. Taking in a breath, you bend your arm with a little straining to tighten the muscles. She pokes around again, your foreleg now harder while tensed up. As she’s poking, you think you hear her let out a little ‘Ooooh’. It’s getting hard to keep it flexed, though. It feels like a heat is building and spreading through your arm and you don’t know how long you can stand it. “Alright,” she says, stopping her poking. You let your arm relax with a sigh of relief. However, she doesn’t take both hooves away. In fact, she grabs your other arm and raises that one as well, forcing you to sit on your haunches. She holds them so they’re bent inward, but the hooves are above your head. “Flex again, please. Both arms,” she directs. Doing so for her makes the heat return to the arm she was poking at earlier. The other will definitely have a chance to last longer. “Puff out your chest a bit.” Taking in another breath, you stick your chest out as far as you can comfortably manage. “Hold that pose,” she says as she takes a couple steps back. You hold the flex for a while as Allie looks you up and down, still looking for whatever it is she’s looking for. “Okay, now say, I am Prince Muscular Awesome: Beefcake of the Univer- hahaha!” She couldn’t even finish her statement with how fast you shut down the pose. You jerk your hooves back down to the ground, shaking the uncomfortable heat out of them. “Allie, I think the lack of sleep is finally starting to drive you crazy.” She waves her hoof around nonchalantly. “Naw, this is nothing new to me! I work long into the nights anyway, no big deal!” You lean back a bit and fold your forelegs. “I dunno Allie, you seem to be forgetting things more often since we started the light night shtick.” She tilts her head slightly. “Forgetting? What’re you talking about?” You shrug. “Well, there is a brand new game waiting in the arcade that needs to-” “MY LEGACY!” she shouts right in your face. A streak of blue and white flies by you in a blur as she bolts for the door, wasting no time in returning to her post. You chuckle to yourself quietly as you follow her in with a much more casual pace. Passing through the back door that she left open, you round the corner and see her standing stoically at the entrance to the arcade room. Her brow is furrowed and her cheeks are puffy once again. You follow her gaze to the shiny new game she had left before and find a pair of young colts in front of it. The one actively playing is a brown earth colt sporting a green buzzer while his friend is a light gray pegasus with a black mane. Together, they are mashing away at the buttons furiously, blasting meteors left and right. You smirk. “Looks like somepony shouldn’t have left her post, hm?” “Mehnyehnyehnyeh!” she says, getting right up to your snout. “But they have twelve lives! What kinda parent gives their kid twelve bits for one arcade game!” “Allie you do realize that you get more than one life per bit, right?” you inquire. Her cheeks deflate as her eyes widen a bit. “Wait, what? How many did I put in?” You shrug again. “I dunno, like five or six?” Her head drops as she returns to her previous expression again. She drags her hooves over to the bench near the door and plants her rump down, folding her hooves with a scowl like an old miser. “They’ll run out eventually…” All you can manage to do is quietly laugh and shake your head. “Sometimes I worry about you, girl.” “So do I, darlin’,” says a voice behind you. Big Wig trots back up as you glance back. “Allie’s been pushin’ herself so hard lately.” Allie’s still poised still behind the colts on the arcade game, ready to strike as soon as they’re finished. She doesn’t even notice you or Big Wig as you can see her concentrating imaginary beams of ill will into the back of the players’ heads. “Yeah…” you admit. “However, she and I are taking a break tonight.” “Oh, really now?” Big Wig asks. “Yep! Going to be all rested up for tomorrow so we can show all our progress,” you explain. Big Wig taps her chin. “Alrighty then,” she says with a bit of hesitation. “I just hope the two of you will be ready.” “We still have another week. I have been getting better.” You turn away from Allie to face Big Wig. “Thank you so much for letting us stay late to practice.” She smiles and gives you a pat on the back. “So long as everything’s in workin’ order the next day. But still, I just can’t help but worry.” She lets out a sigh. “Y’all are such a nice stallion, helpin’ out with this or that. Plus, Allie really likes havin’ you around.” She shakes her head slowly. “Do ya’ think you can really win against Hard Ball? I’d really hate to have to see ya’ go…” You pause for a moment. “It’s not that-” you begin, but stop yourself. You were about to say something that made it sound like you’re going to lose. However, Allie is within earshot. Whether or not she’s listening now, if her hearing tunes in then everything the two of you hugged for would be wasted. Turning back to Big Wig, you start over with confidence. “We’ll definitely be able to beat Hard Ball next week,” you state. Looking up at Allie, her eyes are still focused forward towards the game, but her mouth is up in a tiny smile. Looking back to Big Wig, her face is quite the opposite while looking at Allie. “Okay. Just don’t push yourself too hard,” she warns as she trots off. Somehow, it almost feels like she wasn’t saying that to you. A loud, crackly explosion catches your attention. “One down…” Allie grumbles under her breath. “You know, you could probably get a lot of work done while you wait,” you offer. She shakes her head without moving her eyes of the screen, still trying to willing that little ship to crash. “Might lose my place in line,” she replies. A thought occurs to you. Pulling a bit out of your own pocket, you walk up to the machine beside the two colts. You reach to place it, but decide to ask first in case these two are unaware of common arcade courtesy. “Hey, uh, don’t mean to interrupt. I’ll make this quick,” you say to get their attention. The one not actively playing looks up at you. “You know what it means if I set my bit up here in the corner of the screen, right?” “Yeah, you want to play next,” the colt explains. “That’s okay. We just wanted to play the credits somepony already put in here.” You hear a tiny MMMPHGH from behind you. “Okay,” you say as you put your bit down. “Good luck!” you call out as you walk away. They both gives thanks and a small wave in response while you walk back up to Allie. “So you’re saving a spot for me?” she asks. “No. You’ve officially lost your place in line. Back to work,” you command, pointing behind the counter. She looks at you calmly. No smile on her face, but no scowl either. Slowly, she leans down toward you, putting her face to the side of your head. “...I will end you.” “That’s nice,” you reply with a shrug. Thankfully, before she can retort in a manner unbefitting of the present children, Big Wig calls out, “Hey Allie, could ya’ come back here? I could use yer help with somethin’.” Allie glances back and forth between you and the direction of Big Wig’s voice. She starts to walk over, but not before looking back and mouthing the words ‘This isn’t over’ to you. While she tries to hide it, you can see her start to snicker as she faces away. Giggling inwardly, you decide you’ve messed with her enough. There are real consequences to pushing Allie too far and you’re probably dangerously close to crossing a line when it comes to a new game. You probably get a huge amount of leeway, considering how close she was to laughing. Good to know she still realizes it’s only a game. Walking back to the machine, you take your bit back. “Changed my mind,” you explain. “Okay,” they respond, only half aware of the things outside the realm behind the screen. Yep, these two could become quite the gamers in their future. Pocketing the bit again, you decide it’s time to head home now that Allie’s doing actual work. The result of the arcade cabinet haul is finally starting to take its toll on your back and legs. The sooner you get home and lay down, the better. Walking out the door, there’s nothing left but to wait until tomorrow.