'Now, let's move on to Assault Statham Napoleon, better known as Salt. He was always the 'bare-hoof brawler' of our family, preferring physical force over weaponry most of the time. To some, that might sound like a tactical error. But Salt was one heck of a fighter. He could always be counted on to punch his way out of any situation. And he was quite a thief, too; Able to take anything from anypony, often right under their noses. And if the ladies back in Bitaly are to be believed, he was very good in bed. As you can imagine, I wasn't so keen to prove the veracity of that last one, but the rest is right on the money. Salt was always one of our best, able to pull off almost any operation with style and strength.
I recall this one time, back in Bitaly: Tilt Trot, the nephew of a city councilpony we were tight with had been foalnapped, and he had called on our help to find him. The poor kid had a bad leg, meaning he could hardly make a run for it, and our friend feared the worst for him, to the point where he enlisted our services rather than wait for the police to find the kid. Salt had always had a soft spot for foals. Exactly why is hard to say, though my guess is that it was down to Anarchy's demise forcing him to grow up. He missed his own foalhood so much, he felt he needed to be around kids to remind him of what it was like. That at least would explain his hatred of anypony mistreating them.
Either way, the moment he heard about Tilt, he took on the mission with a zeal the rest of us could only dream of. Before long, he had discovered the kidnappers' hideout...'
Salt approached a rundown old motel on the outskirts of Roam. As he neared it, the radio in his saddlebag crackled to life.
"Salt, do you read?" Grimoire's voice issued from it.
"Yeah, I read." Salt answered.
"Where are you?" Grimoire asked.
"I'm outside the old motel on the edge of town." Salt answered. "A stoolie who owes me a favor told me he saw some thugs bringing a squirming pony in a small burlap sack inside. That's gotta be Tilt. I'm going in to get him out."
"What?" Grimoire growled. "No. Wait for the rest of us to join you!"
"No can do, bro." Salt retorted. "I refuse to allow that poor kid to be trapped in those suzzballs' hooves any longer than he already has!"
"Don't be a fool, Salt!" Grimoire yelled. "You don't know how many are in that gang! You can't take them on al-"
Salt shut off the radio.
"Sorry, Grim." He sighed. "Can't afford to wait around..."
Salt put his ear against the door, hearing a quiet snuffling sound.
"Paydirt." He whispered.
With one punch, he knocked the door down, and entered the motel. It was a dark, musty place. It was in shambles, the reception empty and covered in cobwebs. Salt tiptoed through the halls, keeping his ears and eyes open.
"Where are you?" He whispered.
As he continued the search, he saw the door to one of the rooms standing ajar.
"Gee, I wonder what's behind door number two?" He muttered.
Salt nudged his way into the room. At the far side was Tilt Trot. The young colt had an amber coat, blonde mane, and a tap shoe Cutie Mark. He also had a wheel attached to his bad hoof, and a teddy bear clutched in another. He had been bound and gagged, and teary-eyed, obviously frightened.
"Hey, kid." Salt smiled. "I'm here to get you out of here."
Tilt shook his head, muttering wildly.
"Mmmf!" He said through his gag. "Mmmmf!"
"What's the matter?" Salt asked.
Suddenly, the door shut behind Salt, and a dozen Earth Pony stallions emerged from the shadows.
"Sorry, pal." A particularly brutish looking green stallion sneered. "No vacancies."
"Oh, I'm not here for the room." Salt said coolly. "I'm here to pick up your guest."
"You'll have to get through us first!" A grizzled blue stallion snickered.
"Then that's what I'll do." Salt declared.
"Good luck." A indigo stallion snarled. "You're outnumbered a dozen to one."
"True." Salt admitted. "I may actually have to try here."
"Give it your best shot." The stallion smirked. "Get him!"
The stallion charged at Salt. Salt gave the nearest one an elbow to the face, knocking him down, then gave another a haymaker. As the two collapsed, the rest continued on. The blue stallion threw a punch, which Salt caught, and returned with one of his own. The yellow one swung, but Salt ducked, and the blow connected with the jaw of the thug behind him. He then delivered an uppercut to the yellow one, knocking him off his hooves and onto his back. Two tried to strike him at once, but he grabbed their hooves and slammed their heads together. Another tried a flying kick, but Salt caught him in the gut, following up by throwing him at two others.
Just like that, only the green stallion was left.
"Look at that." Salt smirked. "My odds don't look so bad now, huh?"
"Rahhh!" The ringleader lashed out, actually landing a blow at Salt, whose head snapped back from the force. "Hah! How'd ya like that?"
Salt turned to face him, wiping a thin trickle of blood off his lip.
"My turn." He growled.
Salt struck the green stallion hard. The stallion buckled, but stayed standing. He returned the blow, and they swapped punches for a little longer. Just as the stallion was about to hit again, Salt caught his hoof and put him in an armlock.
"Here's a lesson for you." Salt snarled. "Don't! Mess! With! Kids!" He punctuated each word with a punch.
The stallion fell limp, and Salt released him. As the thug dropped to the floor, Salt rushed over to Tilt, and untied him.
"It's okay now, kid." He smiled. "You're going home. I'll bet your mom had been worried sick about you."
"Thanks, mister." Tilt hugged him.
"No problem, kid." Salt smiled. "Just doing what every good samaritan should do."
Before long, Salt had brought Tilt back to his mother.
"Tilt!" The peach mare hugged her son. "I'm so glad you're okay!"
"I missed you, mommy." Tilt sniffed.
"Another good deed done." Salt smiled, turning to leave.
"Wait!" Tilt suddenly called, wheeling over to him.
"What's up, kid?" Salt asked.
"Here." Tilt offered him his teddy. "Take this."
"Oh, kid, I couldn't..." Salt protested. He stopped when he saw the look in Tilt's pale brown eyes. He was always a sucker for the old 'doe eyed stare'. "...Okay. I'll take good care of the little guy."
"I know you will." Tilt hugged him again.
"Ah, kid..." Salt gently returned the hug.
'To this day, Salt kept that teddy bear as a memento. He put it on his bedside cabinet, cleaned it once a month, and made sure to keep it in perfect condition. To that end, he cast a powerful protection spell on it; Strong enough, in fact, to allow it to survive the explosion of our old mansion. When Salt moved to Ponyville, the teddy came with him.
I will admit, I was cross at Salt's recklessness when he went in there by himself, but on the other hoof, I was touched by how dedicated he was to helping a foal.
"Don't you ever pull a reckless stunt like that again!" Grimoire yelled at Salt. "Do you even comprehend how badly that could have turned out! Both you and the kid could have wound up dead!"
"Hey, I got the job done, didn't I?" Salt grinned.
"Yes, you did." Grimoire admitted. "That kid's back with his mother because of you. Because you didn't stop until you found and rescued him. Good work, bro."
"Yep." Salt chuckled. "Just add another one to my 'win' column."
"But my point still stands." Grimoire frowned. "You're good, Salt. But you're not invincible. Some day, your luck's gonna run out."
"Heh, not likely..." Salt smirked.
'On the other hoof, if the foal was instead a smoking hot mare, Salt would be just as determined, just in a different way. In fact, him taking down a bunch of thugs was exactly how he met Nurse Redheart and began a loving yet very amorous relationship with her. And it wasn't before long that they were married and Redheart was with foal moment after (Napoleon virility at it's finest).
When the family was outed by the Crystal Sun incident, Salt was one of the first to adjust to his new lifestyle. He moved in with his wife, got a job at the local Ponyville gym training other ponies, and as a boxer himself, always had indulged his boxing hobby by fighting in sparring rings back in Roam. As of now, he is making quite a mark in the local tournaments, doing so well that everypony did not care that he was a criminal, but instead seeing him as a town hero (aside from the Elements of Harmony of course).
However with his foal on the way and a very important match coming up, Salt was about to come face to face with a dillemma, which I would like to call...'
Chapter Twenty: Final Round
In the present, the heavily pregnant Redheart was lying on the couch in the living room. She was wearing earphones on her stomach, a music player broadcasting soothing tunes, which she had been told would be good for the baby. She was in her eleventh month, fully aware of how close the foal was to arriving, and she hoped keeping it calm would mean for an easier birth. Suddenly, the gentle sounds were replaced by something else, something louder...
'Risin' up, back on the streets
Did my time, took my chances...'
"What the-" Redheart frowned, sitting up. She saw Salt, holding the soothing music tape in his hoof. "Salt, what are you doing?"
"Just trying to get our little guy into the fighting spirit." Salt smiled. "If we're going to have a champion in the family, we have to get him started off in the competitive spirit right away. Nothing like 'Eye Of A Tiger' to get my boy into the swing of things."
"Still sure it'll be a 'he', are you?" Redheart asked.
"Of course it's a he." Salt chuckled. "He's going to be a young strapping colt, raring to get his hooves into the ring and carry on my legacy by socking it to his rivals! I can see it now, him holding that champion belt, with me, his father and trainer, by his side, telling him... I'm proud of you, boy..." He felt a small tear. "I'm proud of you."
"If you say so." Redheart said, unable to stifle a chuckle, "But let's not get ahead of ourselves. We don't know for sure if he will even be a 'he'."
"I know he will." Salt grinned, "I have a knack for this sort of things."
Salt had long held the belief that the foal would be a colt, to Redheart's amusement. Though to many, it seemed like Salt just really wanted a son, the truth was far more complicated. It all started during a match against Manehattan's top boxer, Mule-hammer Ali:
Flashback...
It had been a brutal match so far. Both Salt and Ali had given their all, and they were now in the third round. The crowd was cheering for both fighters. Ali, a massive dark brown stallion with a short mustard mane, gray eyes and hammer Cutie Mark, slugged Salt on the chin, and Salt retaliated with a right cross. Ali tottered back, then gave Salt a left hook that made his ears rings. Shaking himself, Salt moved into finish things. He bobbed and weaved around Ali's strikes, then jabbed him from the left. As Ali tried to recover, he struck from the right. A barrage of blows later, and Ali looked like he was done.
'One last move...' Salt thought.
Salt put all his strength in a massive uppercut, knocking Ali out. As the crowd went wild, Salt felt a shooting pain in his hoof. Not wanting to alarm anypony, he put on a brave face, waving to the crowd.
A much less pregnant Redheart, Grimoire, Murray and Slot raced to congratulate him.
"Well done, Salt!" Redheart hugged him.
"Way to go, bro!" Murray cheered.
"You rule!" Slot whooped.
"Thanks, guys." Salt grinned. "I did kick some major flank, didn't I?"
"Just like always." Grimoire admitted.
"We should celebrate your big win." Redheart suggested. "...Maybe by going out to dinner?"
"With pleasure." Salt nodded. "Just let me get changed."
"I'll be waiting." Redheart shared a kiss with her husband.
As Salt left the arena, he pulled off his glove, his hoof still throbbing.
'What's going on here?' He wondered.
Keeping the pain a secret from everypony, Salt booked an appointment with Dr Stable immediately.
"Hello, Mr Napoleon." Dr Stable smiled as Salt entered.
"Hi, Doc." Salt said curtly.
"How's that wife of yours?" Stable asked. "We do miss her, you know."
"Yeah, she was always telling me about how great all her co-workers here are." Salt grinned. "Don't worry, you'll have your best nurse back soon."
"I should hope so." Stable chuckled. "Now, let's get down to business, shall we?"
"I'm just waitin' on you, Doc." Salt joked.
The examination got underway, Stable using a number of procedures to check Salt out.
"So, what's the problem, doc?" He asked, as Stable looked over an x-ray of his hoof. "Pulled muscle, torn ligament, that sort of thing? Probably nothing, right?""
"Well, unfortunately, it doesn't look so good." Stable sighed. "I'm afraid you have a fracture in your hoof."
"A what?" Salt asked.
"A crack." Stable clarified.
"But... but how?" Salt asked. "How did it happen? All I did was punch a guy out. I've done plenty of times before!"
"Well, quite often, things like are caused when you apply stress to a previous injury." Stable remarked. "Were you ever injured in that hoof before?"
"Actually, yeah." Salt recalled. "I punched this wackjob with a metal jaw once. Knocked him out, of course, but the doctor back home said it gave me a hairline crack in my hoof. No big deal."
"Ah, there's the problem." Stable frowned. "While at the time, that injury was nothing, repeated activity in that region has slowly but surely exacerbated it, to the point where it could take no more."
"So... what should I do, doc?" Salt asked.
"I recommend you avoid punching anypony with that hoof." Stable declared. "The more that hoof hits something, the greater the damage will become."
"But I'm a boxer!" Salt yelled. "It's my one true calling! I can't just give that up!"
"Well, it seems you have a choice." Stable declared. "What's more important, your health or your career?"
That was a question Salt couldn't answer himself. He made his way to the mansion, and told Grimoire and Murray (who had dropped by to visit).
"What am I gonna do?" He sighed.
"Tough call." Murray shrugged.
"Have you told Redheart yet?" Grimoire asked.
"No." Salt admitted. "And I'm not going to. I don't want to worry her."
"Don't you think she'll be worried when she hears your hoof snapped in the middle of a match?" Murray asked.
"That's not what's going to happen." Salt growled.
"Maybe you should call it a day when it comes to boxing." Grimoire suggested.
"But... but I can't." Salt frowned. "I'm doing what I love... it helps bring in the money while Redheart is in maternity leave...and what will my kid think of me if he comes into this world to see me as a jobless has-been?"
"What if the foal is a-" Murray was about to point out.
"Don't you start that up again." Salt warned. "I may have a bad hoof, but it won't stop me from giving you a whooping!"
"Speaking of which, you really shouldn't keep going with your hoof in such bad shape." Grimoire insisted.
"Of course I can." Salt said stubbornly. "I just need to figure a way around it..."
"Well... can't you like... box with just the other hoof, or something?" Murray suggested.
"Maybe..." Salt mused. "And I could throw in some extra padding in the other glove, enough to cushion any blows I could throw with my bad hoof..."
"Nothing in the rules says you can't." Murray smiled.
"I still say you should give it up." Grimoire sighed. "I know Redheart would appreciate it. And it's not like you wouldn't be leaving empty-hoofed. I mean, look at you. You've won dozens of matches, plenty of tournaments, you hold the record for fastest knockout... If your foal's not impressed by any of that, then it probably takes after its uncle Caboose."
"But I am so close, Grim." Salt explained, "I had been talking with my manager. They say that I only have a few more matches before I can get a chance to fight the ultimate boxing champion, Stone Wall! If I can just win that champion belt from him, then my son will see me as a legend! Nothing drives a colt to follow in his pop's hoofsteps like that! Just think, we could have ourselves a father/son dynasty of pugilism!"
"But what about what happens inbetween?" Grimiore asked.
"What about it?" Salt shrugged.
"What if you wind up messing up your hoof for life?" Grimoire asked. "What'll happen to your 'legendary status' then?"
"That's not going to happen." Salt said smugly.
"But say it does." Grimoire urged. "How do you think an injury like that will impact on your family life? Imagine that poor kid, having to grow up with a dad who's got a busted hoof... And then there's Redheart. How can you hold her in your hooves when you're missing one?"
"I won't have to worry about, because I'll play it safe." Salt insisted. "Give me a little credit, Grim."
"I'm trying to, which is why I'm asking you to reconsider your course of action." Grimoire declared.
"Not a chance." Salt shook his head. "I'm gonna be the champ no matter what."
"Not the answer I wanted to hear." Grimoire sighed. "Tell me, what's more important: A sport, or the mare you love?"
"You know the answer to that one." Salt declared bluntly. "But this is my dream here. Maybe once the foal is born, and I've had my glory, maybe then I'll throw in the towel. But for now, I'm staying in the ring."
"That's the spirit, bro!" Murray chuckled.
"Just be careful out there, okay?" Grimoire sighed. "Try not to push yourself too hard."
"Relax, Grim." Salt smiled. "It's me, remember?"
"Of course I remember." Grimoire said, adding under his breath "That's the problem..."
And so, Salt changed the way he boxed. In addition to the padding, he started favouring his left hoof. This of course threw his timing and balance off somewhat, as he was used to leading with the right. Thanks to the padding, even blows he launched with his right hoof were less painful (though they still left a twinge afterward). But even with all that, Salt realised that his fighting prowess had been diminished. Even though he was undefeated, each fight grew a little bit harder, and it was starting to become clear that his glory days were behind him.
That was the reason Salt wanted the foal to be a boy. He was hoping the colt could carry on his legacy in the ring after his inevitable retirement.
The present...
Salt was working out in the practice ring when his manager, Bulk Biceps, approached. Bulk was also past his heyday, but he used his knowhow of how to use muscles to teach others how to fight.
"Yeah!" Bulk cheered. "Nice work, Salt!"
"Thanks, double B." Salt smiled.
"You'll need everything you've got for your next fight." Bulk declared. "You take down Sugar Rein Leonard, and you'll be up to fight the defending champ, Stone Wall."
Despite his injury, Salt had been steadily winning his way up the ranks. Sugar Rein Leonard, Whinnyapolis' champ, was next in line, and the only thing between him and the heavyweight champ himself, Stone Wall ("Stoney" to his friends), who had held the title for the past three years.
"You up for it, pal?" Bulk smiled.
"You bet I am!" Salt smirked. "Once I've dealt with Leonard, I'll take down Stoney. With all the big guys I took down in my days, Stoney oughta to be a good show."
"That's the spirit!" Bulk cheered. "You pull this off, and you'll go down in history!"
'Wow, just think: Me, taking on the champion.' Salt thought. 'This is it. My final chance at everlasting glory. If I manage to beat the champ, I'll have a real legacy. A legacy my colt will carry on...'
That evening, he shared the news with Redheart.
"Isn't it great?" Salt grinned. "Me, facing off against Stoney himself? It won't be long now..."
"It certainly sounds exciting." Redheart smiled. "But be careful out there. The last thing our foal needs is for its daddy's handsome face to get messed up."
"Relax, babe." Salt smiled. "You know why they call this guy 'Sugar'? Because beating him's a piece of cake. For me, at least."
"I know you can win." Redheart said lovingly. "Just try not to get too banged up. You can't help me take care of the foal if you're in a full-body cast."
"The only one who'll need that cast is Leonard." Salt said smugly. "He's just a stepping stone to me. Taking on Stoney's the real prize."
"Just try and focus on the here and now, dear." Redheart urged. "This 'sugar' may not be the champion, but he must be good if he's gotten this far."
"Not good enough." Salt smirked. "Seriously, though, I've got this. When have you ever known me to let my guard down?"
"Never." Redheart admitted.
"Exactly." Salt grinned. "And remember to watch the match on the box. Don't want the little fella to miss it. One day, he'll be in the ring himself. Best he gets familiar with it as soon as possible."
"Okay, dear." Redheart rolled her eyes. "Just try not to drag the fight out too long. We both know I could give birth any day now."
"Oh, I wouldn't miss that for the world." Salt smiled, hugging her. "You mark my words, I'll be there to greet our handsome colt when he comes into the world..."
"And that's why I love you." Redheart kissed him.
Over the next couple of days, Salt continued training for his match with Leonard. While keeping his bad hoof protected, he pushed himself like never before, even busting his punching bag. Despite his bluster, he knew Leonard wouldn't go down easy. It was going to take everything he had to beat him...
Meanwhile, Redheart stayed at home, her pregnancy preventing her from being very active. May was currently keeping an eye on her (her schedule being a little more fluid after she stepped down as Mayor).
"How are you feeling?" May asked. "No... alarms?"
"Not yet." Redheart shook her head. "Honestly, I wouldn't mind if the foal came out right this second. I'm starting to get impatient."
"Well, at least you've got a foal in there." May snorted. "Murray and I have been trying and trying, but we've got nothing so far."
"I'm sure you'll get there soon enough." Redheart smiled. "Salt and I weren't even trying, so you guys should be seeing a foal before long."
"I certainly hope so..." May rubbed her woefully flat stomach.
"Well, I know so." Redheart comforted her.
"Thanks, Red." May smiled.
Just then, there was a knock at the door.
"I've got it." May declared.
Behind the door, was Redheart's old friend and colleague at the hospital, Nurse Sweetheart. She was a pink mare with a purple and white striped mane, held in a bun, with a similar Cutie Mark to her friend's.
"Hello!" She smiled.
"Sweetheart." Redheart smiled. "So good to see you."
"You too." Sweetheart hugged her. "Sorry I haven't been able to visit. Work's been pretty busy lately."
"That's okay." Redheart grinned. "I'm just glad you're here now. So, how are things with you?"
"Can't complain." Sweetheart shrugged. "How about you? It looks like you're just about ready to pop!"
"Tell me something I don't know." Redheart sighed.
"And where's that husband of yours?" Sweetheart frowned. "Why isn't he here, waiting on you hoof and fetlock?"
"He's busy providing for us." Redheart answered. "He's got this big boxing match coming up."
"Boxing?" Sweetheart frowned. "Why would he be boxing?"
"Why wouldn't he be?" Redheart frowned, "Boxing is his thing, you know."
"Well, um..." Sweetheart said awkwardly. "I really shouldn't tell you... I overheard Dr Stable talking to him... shouldn't violate the Hippocratic oath... Didn't Salt tell you?""
"Tell me what?" Redheart growled. "Sweetheart, please. I need to know. What did you overhear?"
"Well, a few months ago, I heard Dr. Stable say that Salt has a pretty nasty crack in his hoof." Sweetheart declared. "He told Salt that if he keeps boxing, it'll just make it worse."
"He said that?" Redheart gaped. "And Salt's still been boxing this whole time?"
"Maybe he had a good reason." May suggested. "Like you said, he is providing for you."
"That's what I thought." Redheart scowled. "Now I'm not so sure..."
Later on, Salt returned from training. As May went to leave, she whispered to Salt "Brace yourself." Thinking he may have misheard her, Salt continued on into the living room, finding Redheart glaring at him.
"Uh... hi, honey?" He cringed.
"Don't you 'hi, honey' me." Redheart spat. "I know what you've been doing."
"And what exactly have I been doing?" Salt tried to bluff his way.
"You've been boxing with an injured hoof!" Redheart yelled. "Do you have any idea how dangerous that is?!"
"Now, honey, just relax-" Salt started.
"Don't tell me to relax!" Redheart yelled. "Not when you've been risking your health day in, day out!"
"I wouldn't say 'risking'..." Salt frowned. "I've been using the other hoof more..."
"And why didn't you tell me?" Redheart asked. "I'm your wife!"
"I didn't want you to worry." Salt declared.
"Well, I'm worried now!" Redheart yelled, before taking a breath and calming down. "Please, Salt. You have to stop this, before you do some irreversible damage to yourself."
"I'm sorry, but I can't." Salt shook his head.
"What?" Redheart frowned. "Why not?"
"Because this is my chance to make my own mark on the world." Salt declared. "To craft a legacy for myself. An example for our colt to look up to."
"At what cost?" Redheart asked. "I've seen a case like yours before. You could lose the use of your entire hoof if you keep this up!"
"That's a risk I'm willing to take." Salt declared.
"If you won't do it for yourself, then do it for us." Redheart indicated her stomach. "How can you hold your foal in your hooves if one of them is broken?"
"I... well..." Salt stuttered. "That won't happen."
"How can you know for sure?" Redheart shot back. "You should quit while you're ahead."
"What, give up?" Salt snorted. "When I'm so close to becoming the champ? No way!"
"Ooh, you stubborn musclehead!" Redheart lost what little patience she had. "Aren't you listening to anypony but yourself?"
"Of course I'm listening to you." Salt declared. "But you have to listen to me! If I become champion, it'll mean the biggest payday ever. Not only will we be set for when you are not at work, taking care of the foal, but I will finally have something that my colt can be proud of!"
Redheart remained silent for a moment.
"Salt... could you please come with me for a second?" Redheart asked, though her tone seemed to suggest it's anything but a request.
"Yeah, sure." Salt shrugged.
Redheart lead Salt to his trophy room. It contained various awards, trophies and championship belts, and even photos the proudest moments of Salt's boxing career.
"You mean to tell me that our foal won't see how great of a stallion his father is by seeing any of this?" Redheart glared.
"Redheart, it's not-" Salt tried to explain.
"Look at some of these." Redheart explored the room, as she picked up a box and opened it to reveal a whole bunch of medals. "You won easily the most gold medals from the Equestria Games..." She set it down. "You won every tournament you ever entered." She indicated the trophies and belts as she passed them by. "Local, Regional, Coastal... not even counting all the singles matches you've won." She then frowned at Salt. "How can you think that none of this is good enough? Your child is not going to care if you never made it to be champion. It will love you and look up to you no matter what."
"You think I don't know that." Salt countered. "I know the foal will look up to me. But I want to be a father that he can be proud of. A father who's hoofsteps he'll be ready to walk in. A father who will inspire him to be great. If I quit now, all those awards will mean nothing. Our colt will just see me as a quitter. I refuse to let that happen, for his sake. That's why I have to keep going, no matter the cost."
"It's your choice." Redheart scowled. "And I'm afraid I can't accept that."
"But honey..." Salt protested.
"But nothing." Redheart declared. "You wanna fight? Go ahead. But I won't be in your corner. I won't support, or even condone, any of it. Not any more."
"Please, you gotta-" Salt stammered.
"No." Redheart growled, her eyes growing misty. "I won't watch you risk a part of yourself over some foolish idea that you need to be the best. I just can't!"
"...You know what... fine." Salt huffed. "Suit yourself. I'll do this on my own, without the support of my so-called partner. I had taken down armies of ponies before I met you, and I can take another without your help."
"And you'll be sleeping on the couch until you see sense." Redheart added.
"Works for me." Salt spat. "I could use a little alone time."
Without another word, Redheart stomped upstairs. Salt climbed onto the couch, still fuming. As he lay his head down though, his scowl gave way to sadness.
'Alone...' He thought. 'All alone...'
The next morning, Salt and Redheart ate their breakfasts separately. When their paths did cross, they exchanged no words, only angry looks.
Down at the gym, Salt was angrily pounding away at the practice dummy, even using his bad hoof.
"Somethin' wrong, pal?" Bulk asked. "You look kinda... messed up."
"It's nothing." Salt insisted. "Just a tiff with the little mare. No big deal."
"If you say so." Bulk shrugged. "just try and take it easy, okay? Don't want you wearing yourself out before the match."
"Yeah, sure." Salt sighed.
"Great." Bulk grinned.
As Bulk left, Salt's hoof started to hurt.
"Stupid thing." He hissed. "This is all your fault..."
Soon, it was the day of the big fight. All of Ponyville were eagerly awaiting the showdown, ready to cheer on their local hero.
Meanwhile, Salt awoke and went about getting ready, all the while avoiding Redheart. His pride prevented him from the reconciliation he desperately craved. As he left the house, he made a quick glance at his wife, who was sitting on the couch, still not bothering to look at him.
"Well... I'm off." Salt said sadly. "Bye."
"Yeah..." Redheart said morosely. "Bye."
Salt silently cursed himself, then left. As he walked outside, he ran into Slot and Vinyl, who were scheduled to watch over Redheart.
"Good luck tonight, bro!" Slot smiled.
"Yeah, thanks..." Salt sighed.
"What's wrong, Salt?" Vinyl asked.
"I'm sure Redheart will tell you all about it." Salt scowled.
"Hoo, boy." Slot cringed. "That doesn't sound good."
"No, it doesn't." Vinyl agreed.
That afternoon, the Ponyville arena was packed with spectators. Stone Wall himself was there. The gray coated, blue eyed, Black maned stallion (with a Cutie Mark of a stone) was at in the VIP booth, right next to Mayor Cavallo. He was wearing his heavyweight championship belt, which was covered in gold and diamonds.
"Checking out the prospective competition, huh?" Cavallo asked.
"Something like that." Stone shrugged. "Who are you favouring?"
"Salt, no question." Cavallo chuckled. "The guy's a punching machine."
"You don't say." Stone mused.
"Oh, yeah." Cavallo nodded. "Trust me, I know the guy. This fight's pretty much over already. And no offense to you, but you may as well give him that belt of yours right now."
"We'll see..." Stone declared.
Salt stood in one corner of the ring. He knew he had to focus on the match, but he couldn't thinking about Redheart.
"Hey, pal!" Bulk yelled. "Get your head in the game!"
"Yeah, sure." Salt nodded. "I'm in it, alright. In it to win it."
"Yeaaaah!" Bulk cheered. "That's what I like to hear!"
Murray and Grimoire were ringside, providing moral support.
"Come on, Salt." Murray urged. "Remember: You're a winner!"
"Yeah..." Salt sighed. "I'm a winner..."
"What's wrong, Salt?" Grimoire asked.
"Nothing." Salt answered. "Everything's fine. I'm just two fights away from securing my legacy. Things couldn't be better."
"Well, you don't look like it." Murray pointed out.
"I'm smiling on the inside." Salt frowned.
"Just be careful out there." Grimoire urged.
"Yeah, yeah..." Salt sighed.
The referee started speaking.
"Fillies and gentlecolts, welcome to our penultimate match!" He declared. "A clash between the best pugilists Ponyville and Whinnyapolis have to offer. Two stallions go in, one emerges the victor! And that victor will go on to face our reigning champion in the ultimate title match, Stone Wall!"
The crowd cheered, as a spotlight shine on Stone Wall, as he stood and waved to the crowd.
"And if that victor wins, he will earn bragging rights and the official champion belt!" The referee continued, as Stone Wall, with a smirk, held up the said belt, the gold glinting in the light.
The crowd grew louder in noise.
"Without further ado, let's get the intro underway!" The referee continued, "In this corner: the sultan of slugging, the king of clobbering, Sugar Rein Leonard!" The referee ended with a gesture to said fighter.
Sugar Rein, a light blue stallion with an orange mane, blue eyes and black trunks (concealing a bowing glove Cutie Mark) waved to the crowd as they roared for him.
"And in this corner: the rumbler from Roam, the Bitalian stallion, Salt Napoleon!" The referee announced.
The crowd roared again, as Salt held up a hoof in greeting, though not as enthusiastically.
"Now, I want a good, clean fight." The referee declared as Salt and Sugar approached each other. "No low blows, no cheap shots, no eye gouging... okay?"
"No worries, ref." Leonard declared. "I won't need dirty tricks to beat this cream puff."
"'Cream puff'?" Salt snorted. "I'm not the one with 'Sugar' in my name, pal."
"Ooh, tough guy." Leonard sneered. "We'll see how long that lasts..."
"Yeah, we will." Slat said boldly.
The bell rang, and the fight began. Sugar swung first, forcing Salt to dodge. Salt retaliated with a blow that Sugar blocked. As Sugar tried to strike back, Salt blocked, then struck him. As Sugar tottered backwards, Salt glanced at a nearby camera.
'I wonder if Redheart is watching right now?' He thought. 'Probably not, after the way I treated her...'
Salt was so wrapped up in his thoughts, he almost didn't notice Sugar's next attack, only dodging in the nick of time.
'Whoa!' He cringed. 'Too close. Stay focused, Napoleon...'
Meanwhile, back in Salt and Redheart's home, an angry Redheart was watching the match on TV alongside Slot and Vinyl.
"Look at him." Redheart scowled. "The brainless thug, putting his own health at risk over some stupid match..."
"Maybe we could... watch something else?" Vinyl suggested.
"But it's the big fight!" Slot protested, "Pay per view, y'know?!"
"We can watch something else." Vinyl said sternly. "Right, Red?"
"...No." Redheart sighed. "As much as I am furious with that idiot right now, he's still the father of my foal. I need to make sure he's okay. He talks a big game, but he's not a super stallion."
"Hey, you got nothing to worry about." Slot grinned. "Salt's on fire out there! He got this in the bag!"
"Yeah..." Redheart smiled. "He's good at what he does, I'll give... give him... ah!"
"What's wrong?" Vinyl asked.
"I thin-ah!" Redheart cried, as liquid poured down the couch. "My waters just broke."
"Oh, buck!" Vinyl yelped. "I've gotta get you to the hospital!"
"Don't you mean 'we'?" Slot asked.
"No, you have to go get Salt." Vinyl pointed out. "He needs to be there for Red, understand?"
"Yeah, yeah..." Slot sighed. "Too bad it's gotta ruin the fight..."
While Vinyl rushed Redheart to the hospital, Slot ran over to the arena.
Back at the arena, the match continued. Sugar proved to be a tougher opponent than Salt thought. He landed some powerful blows on Salt, more powerful than he'd felt in a while. As the bell for the end of round one rang, the slightly battered Salt returned to the corner.
"Come on, champ!" Bulk urged. "You gotta get back in the zone."
"I'm trying..." Salt said breathlessly. "But this guy's a real tough customer..."
"He ain't nothin'." Murray snorted. "You can take him."
"Murray's right." Grimoire declared. "Despite my personal feelings, I know you can win this."
"Thanks, Grim." Salt took a gulp of water.
"Salt, Salt!"
Salt glanced up as he saw Slot rushing down to the ring.
"Slot?" Salt frowned. "What are you doing here?"
"It's... Red..." Slot wheezed. "She's... the foal's... y'know... on the way out!"
"What?!" Salt gasped. "Now?! Great timing..."
"Oh jeez, it's time!" Murray yelped.
"Who'd a' thunk it?" Bulk frowned.
"Napoleon foals always come when you least expect them..." Grimoire admitted.
"You coming, or what?" Slot asked.
"Yeah, sure." Salt nodded. "Just let me finish this first."
"Seriously?" Slot frowned. "Even I know this is pretty dumb."
"If Slot thinks that, then you know things are bad." Murray declared.
"You should throw in the towel." Grimoire urged. "You're needed right now. Far more than you are here."
"Salt Napoleon has never bailed on a fight before, and he's not starting now." Salt declared. "Besides, it shouldn't take more than another round to finish this. I know enough about childbirth to know it doesn't happen in a snap, so I should have plenty of time."
"Just make it quick." Slot groaned.
"Oh, I got a bad feeling about this." Murray sighed.
"Me too." Grimoire shook his head. "Salt, you fool."
Salt let out a heavy sigh as he approached the center of the ring, the fact that his wife was in pain and needed him right now was looming over his head. He only hoped that he could wrap things up quickly...
"And begin!" The referee declared, as round two began.
Salt struck fast and hard, desperate to end things quickly. Unfortunately, Sugar took everything he had, and returned it with interest; He struck Salt on the nose, causing it to bleed, knocked out a teeth from a jaw strike, and hit him hard in the face, blacking an eye.
As the match continued, Salt's thoughts kept returning to the birth, and something else; The words Grimoire had told him, months ago:
'After all, what's more important: A sport, or the mare you love?'
Those words ran through Salt's head constantly, throwing off his moves. Sugar struck him again, and again, with Salt barely getting a hit in.
"Come on!" Bulk yelled. "Get to it!"
"Salt, do something!" Slot urged.
"Don't give up!" Murray yelled.
"No!" Grimoire called. "Give it up, while you have the chance!"
"Looks like your boy's starting to lose steam." Stone observed to Cavallo.
"No..." Cavallo gasped. "Impossible..."
Salt tried to launch a finishing punch, but was blocked. Smiling, Sugar threw a punch that knocked him back a good few feet. The stallion staggered over to the turnbuckle, breathing heavily.
"Come on Salt, get it together..." He told himself.
As Salt's vision blurred, he glanced into the crowd. He saw Tilt Trot amongst the spectators, no older than he was when Salt rescued him.
"...Tilt?" He gasped.
'No, I'm seeing things...' He thought. 'My head's trying to tell me something. And I know what it is... I put my life on the line to save Tilt, but I can't even quit a lousy boxing match for my own foal. Well, that stops now. I know what I have to do...'
Salt walked back over to Sugar.
"Back for more, huh?" Sugar sneered.
"Yep." Salt nodded. "Let's give 'em one last show."
Salt lashed out with his best moves, landing quite a few blows. But it wasn't enough. Sugar struck back harder, faster. It wasn't long before Salt was on his last legs.
"Say goodnight, Gracie." Sugar wound back for the finishing blow.
'I'm sorry, brothers.' Salt thought as he closed his eyes. 'Sorry, Stone Wall. Sorry, Redheart. And to you, my foal, I'm sorriest of all. Looks like you won't have a legacy to follow after all...'
Sugar's blow struck Salt on the side of his face, sending him falling down to the canvas.
"One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten!" The referee counted. "It's all over!"
"What the-?" Cavallo gaped.
"No way!" Murray yelled. "Salt doesn't lose! Not ever! It must be a fix or something!"
"This can't be happening!" Slot shook his head.
"Oh, Salt..." Grimoire sighed. "That it would end like this..."
"Ah, that's a real shame..." Stone shook his head. "For a while there, the guy really looked like he had it in the bag."
The crowd cheered for Sugar, as Sugar raised his hooves in victory... but the cheers died down when they realized Salt was still down. The resident medics placed Salt's prone body on a gurney, and carried him out.
"Oh, buck!" Slot cringed, following them. "I was supposed to get him to the hospital, but not like this!"
"Well on the bright side, he won't have to worry about traffic..." Murray half-joked.
"You know, Salt could have thrown the fight." Grimoire mused.
"You think so?" Slot asked.
"Maybe." Grimoire admitted. "Like Murray said, it would be the fastest way to get there."
"Yeah, that's totally what I meant..." Murray fibbed.
Salt suddenly awoke to find himself in a hospital room, still on the gurney.
"Gah!" Salt clutched the side of his face. "Lauren Faust, that hurt! What the heck did that guy have in his gloves..." Suddenly, his eyes lit up. "Redheart..." Then he sat up. "The foal! I'm coming, babe!"
Salt pulled himself off the gurney, falling to the floor.
"OW!" Salt groaned, as he pushed himself back up, and began limping to the delivery room, "Hang in there, baby, I'm coming!"
In the delivery room, Redheart was in the throes of labor, screaming in agony, while Dr Stable did his best to help things along.
"Almost there..." Dr Stable urged, as Redheart groaned.
"I can't believe Salt's missing this!" Redheart yelled, as she half groaned, half sobbed, "Where is he?!"
"Right here." Salt declared, as he pushed open the doors to the room.
"Salt..." Redheart smiled. "I was starting to worry you'd-"
"Miss the birth of my foal? Never." Salt smiled, taking Redheart's hoof. "I'm with you all the way, babe."
"My gosh, Mr. Napoleon, are you alright?" Dr. Stable blanched at his bruised form. "You look like you should be in the ICU!"
"I'll be fine." Salt declared. "If I can take a beating, I can do births with my eyes shut."
"All the same, I think I should call for a stretcher." Stable declared. "Stallions in perfect health have been known to faint during this event. And you look like a strong breeze could knock you over..."
"Nice." Salt frowned. "Kick a guy when he's down."
"Brace yourself, Mr Napoleon." Stable declared. "Brace yourself."
After an hour or so of pain, screaming, and struggling, the birth was over. To his credit, Salt had managed to stay on his hooves and fully conscious the whole (though not without trouble).
"It's a filly!" Stable declared, holding up the foal. She had a white coat and a pink mane, like her mother, but had Salt's green eyes.
"A filly?" Salt asked quietly, as Stable placed her in his hooves.
"Oh, Salt." Redheart sighed. "I know its not exactly what you were hoping for..."
"She's perfect." Salt smiled, tears springing to his eyes. "She's absolutely perfect!"
"Really?" Redheart asked. "But I thought you wanted a colt."
"That was then, and this is now." Salt declared. "And right now, I can't imagine a more perfect foal. So what if she won't be a champion? There are plenty of other professions. Maybe she'll get into medicine, like her mom..."
"I love you, Salt..." Redheart smiled, relieved.
"I love you too, honey." Salt kissed her.
"What should we call her?" Redheart asked.
"I have the perfect name: Lightning." Salt smiled.
"Why Lightning?" Redheart asked.
"Because she's left us both thunderstruck." Salt beamed. "Plus, y'know, it's good name for boxing."
"Fair enough." Redheart smiled, taking the filly in her hooves. "Welcome to the world, little Lightning."
The filly yawned lightly, drifting off to sleep.
The morning after they returned home, Salt and Redheart were cherishing their new foal. Salt had recovered quite well despite his injuries. The scrappy Napoleon had always been a fast healer.
"Who's the cutest little filly ever?" Redheart cooed.
"You are!" Salt told Lightning, who giggled.
Just then, there was a knock at the door.
"Hello?" Salt opened it, revealing none other than Stone Wall, holding his golden belt. "Holy- Stoney?! What in Sam's hill..."
"Eh, yo." Stone smiled.
"Wh-what are you doing here?" Redheart asked.
"Well, I wanted to come by and make sure that the 'Bitalian Stallion' was alright after the match." Stone explained with a smile, "And... I wanted to offer my congratulations to him on said match."
"Congratulations?" Salt frowned. "But I lost."
"Actually, you didn't..." Stone Wall said with a wry smile. "You know what calf crunchers are?"
"The steroids?" Salt cringed, "Yeah, said to improve your performances by two hundred percent and double your muscle mass. Not that I would need it. Why you ask?"
"Well, as it turns out, Sugar using some of that stuff before his match with you." Stone declared. "Some of that stuff spilled out of his duffel bag while he was being interviewed, so he was disqualified..."
"Wait, are you saying that..." Redheart gaped.
"Indeed I am. Salt, if you are up for it, we can have our little title match." Stone declared, "Just name the time and place and we can throw down. Whattaya say?"
Salt thought about it for a moment, and sighed.
"Sorry, Mr. Wall." He declared. "I am honored by being offered the opportunity, but I can't. I've got me a bum hoof and I had risking it a lot lately with all the boxing... so last night's match... is my last match, period. I am done with boxing. As of now, I got me a family to look out for."
"Well, if that's the way you want it." Stoney smiled. "I can respect your decision. I wouldn't feel right fighting a stallion who can't fight with all he have. Still, since we might not get a chance to fight in the future, here's something to show your kid when she grows up..."
Stoney took off his belt, and gave it to Salt.
"Whoa, the championship belt." Salt gasped. "I... I can't accept this..."
"Sure you can." Stone smiled. "You're a real champ, Salt Napoleon, so you deserve it. Besides, I got like, a dozen others like it back home, so what's one belt?"
"Okay, I'll take it." Salt smiled. "Thanks, champ."
"No problem... champ." Stone grinned. "See ya around..."
After Stone left, Redheart took a look at the belt.
"How amazing..." She smiled, "I always knew you were the greatest."
"Yeah." Salt grinned, before frowning. "Still, it looks like I'll be looking for a new job. I suppose I could fall back on my trainer job for now... But what full-time profession is there for a pony who knows how to break every part of an equine's anatomy?"
"I've been thinking about that." Redheart smiled. "Maybe you could take a stab at the medical profession."
"Seriously?" Salt asked.
"Of course." Redheart nodded. "It's just like breaking body parts, only in reverse. And I happen to know the hospital could use a couple of new orderlies."
"You may be onto something there, babe." Salt smiled, as he took Lightning in his hooves. "Healing ponies might be just as good a legacy as hurtin' them. And little Lightning here doesn't need to live up to anything. She can be whatever she wants."
Lightning suddenly reached up and bopped Salt lightly on the nose.
"Did you see that?" Salt gasped. "That jab?"
"It was barely a tap." Redheart frowned.
"No, it was a jab!" Salt grinned. "I know, cause I've been playing those boxing training tapes while you were asleep for her. My little gal's got the makings of a champ in here! All it'll take is the right kind of training, and she'll take the boxing world by storm!"
"Anything you say, dear..." Redheart rolled her eyes.
"That's right, li'l Lightning!" Salt swung her around, making her giggle. "You're gonna be a champ someday!"
'And that's Salt's story. After a couple of weeks (and some tuition from Redheart), he got the orderly job, and is actually doing decent work. And when he's at home, he's trying his best to teach Lightning how to box. We all know it's a bit crazy, but nothing we say can sway him, so we've decided to live with it. Besides, Lightning doesn't seem to mind at all. I guess she really is her father's daughter...and honestly, I don't think Salt could be any happier.'