//------------------------------//
// 11 - Twitch 
// Story: Soarin's Pet Rock 
// by Beware The Carpenter 
//------------------------------//

Stoner was airsick. 

He was on his head bumping up and down in a dark, stuffy saddlebag. From the feel of things, he guessed Soarin was hovering in little circles, presumably around Rainbow Dash and the foals; but then again, that might just be the shifting in Stoner's stomach. Due to the constant shifts in direction, Stoner had no idea where he was or where they were going, except overhearing Soarin say that he did not want to see a movie. Everyone else sounded like muffled drawls. 

The air in there was getting increasingly dense, like breathing into a paper bag only worse; but when Soarin turned round a bend, Stoner rolled and managed to catch the point of his hoof against the seam of the saddlebag and began rubbing up and down with each slow wing beat Soarin took, gradually opening a hole for him to see and breathe through. It took ages to wear the hole; seriously it was fifteen minutes at least, but when he finally managed to cut through, all he saw was a solid wall of popcorn.

Lots and lots of popcorn!

Stoner couldn’t believe his eyes, and wondered if being trapped in the bag had caused him to hallucinate; then Soarin took a step back, and Stoner saw that they were at the snack bar in the movie theater. Soarin ordered two small popcorns and sodas for the foals, a medium for Rainbow Dash and a jumbo for himself. Stoner suggested that he should get something bigger for the others so he wouldn’t look greedy, but Soarin ignored him. Then again, Stoner was surprised Soarin wanted the jumbo at all; he’d just eaten a five-course meal less than an hour ago, and already he was ravenous.

“Can… can I have a kids size popcorn, that’s like breadcrumbs only better?” 

Soarin ignored him, and instead grumbled something to himself about needing to see a little girl’s movie.

“You insisted on coming on a birthday date for a filly.” Reminded Stoner, “What did you expect?”

Soarin grumbled some more and bought five candy bars. Wait, five? Stoner’s heart leapt, Soarin had gotten one for him, maybe he wasn’t completely gone after all. A minute later, Rainbow Dash showed up with the foals in hoof, and Soarin distributed the popcorns and sodas… but not the candy bars; he kept them hidden in the fold under his wing. He didn’t even offer one to Rainbow Dash.

A few minutes later and the five of them were in the theatre; four of them waiting patiently for the movie to start, Soarin waiting impatiently. He kept shifting his weight, now forwards, then to the left, and back again; scratching, standing up, sitting back down and then repeating like it was some kind of twisted dance. The only good thing about it was that in one of his innumerable twists and bends, Stoner managed to pull himself into an upright position. 

After a few minutes of checking the clock every fifteen seconds and spending the rest of his time ogling at Rainbow Dash, the ads started. Usually, these calmed Soarin right down and held his attention until the movie, but now they just made him worse. He kept chattering quietly to himself like he was arguing with each advertiser, then louder as they droned on and he was asking where the movie was, stopping only long enough to shove one candy bar after another into his mouth. 

The movie started, and Stoner’s last hope that Soarin would manage to get a grip on himself ended in disappointment. Soarin kept fidgeting with everything he could think of, scratching his butt with his left hoof and shoveling huge hooffulls of popcorn into his mouth with the other while he kicked the back of the seat of the person in front of him. A few kernels fell into Stoner’s bag, and he began pecking at them ravenously, but soon lost his appetite out of worry with the sinking realization that Soarin really was trying to relax, and couldn’t settle down. 

Ten minutes into the movie, Soarin got up and left.

Two and a half hours later Rainbow Dash and the foals came out of the cinema, Scootaloo beaming, Dash smiling and Button Mash looking a little bored until he noticed the pinball machine had a new high score to it: Soarin W. He walked over for a closer look, and noticed that Tetris had also been rebranded, and so had pac-colt. 

Button’s eyes opened wider as he began following a trail of high scores that led to the end of the isle where Soarin was hoof mashing the last console into submission. A look of cold determination settled over Button’s face as another high score appeared. Without ever saying a word, he took a pouch of bits from his saddlebag and traded the entire bag for game tokens.