This was it; the day everypony had been waiting for. It was finally time to compete in the Paint Wars tournament and the competition looked something fierce! Rainbow eyed every pony that passed by them like a lion scouting its next meal as she casually stretched out her limbs and wings. There were a lot of tough looking pegasi that showed up at this competition and everypony was playing the intimidation game to psyche out they’re possible rivals. This was going to make for some awesome matches today!
Rainbow Dash smiled to herself. “Not bad, but I’m the greatest flier in Equestria! There’s no way I am going to lose to these newbies!”
She flexed her wings and displayed them proudly like stripes on a tiger. A small dust cloud billowed up behind from her display of power and Rainbow spotted a few heads turn her direction. “Aw yeah! Look out everypony; Rainbow Dash is here to win!”
Rainbow Dash glanced to her side to see if her cadet-in-training was paying attention on how to beat somepony before the match even began. Connor, however, was not paying attention. In fact, it looked like he wasn’t even there in the first place. His eyes had this wide blank stare to them and he was slightly fidgeting and shifting his weight around a lot.
“Hey, Connor!” she elbowed him in his side, “You doing alright?”
“Huh?!” Connor jumped back to reality. His eyes still held that frantic look to them.
“I said, ‘Are you doing alright’? You look like a scaredy cat right now and it’s kind of embarrassing.”
“No, no, I-I’m fine,” Connor tried to play off, “I was just, thinking about things and- augh, Rainbow!” his voice dropped to angry hiss, “Why did you sign me up for this at all?! This is crazy!”
“What are you talking about?” Rainbow Dash said loudly, “This is going to be awesome! Just look; it looks like half of Equestria came to watch me wipe the competition in these canyons! And just you wait; soon everypony will know the name Rainbow Dash as the greatest Paint Wars player ever!”
“No, this is crazy and stupid! Everyone around here has been flying all their lives and a few of them actually look pretty good. I’ve only been flying for like, what, a few weeks now? And I’ve only been training for this for only a week! These ponies look like they’ve been training and practicing a lot more than I have since the announcement of the whole tournament thing! How do you expect me to win like this?!”
Rainbow was taken aback at the sudden outburst from him. Was he really this nervous about a simple tournament? Wow, she really needed to work on his confidence when it came to competing. Alright, time to pick Connor up with one of her signature, awesome pep talks!
“Alright, listen Connor. Did I ever tell you the story about how I performed my second sonic rainboom in my entire life, ever?”
“Only a few dozen times…” Connor commented.
“Well let me tell it one more time. I’ll never forget it; the rush of speed from going so fast, catching Rarity inches before she hit the ground, being with the Wonderbolts…!” Rainbow reminisced for a few seconds in one of her best memories of her life while Connor exasperatedly motioned for her to move on with the story.
“Oh! Right, sorry about that. Anyways, where was I? Oh yeah! So before the whole competing thing, I was having a lot of trouble getting my sonic rainboom to work before the actual Best Young Flier’s competition. Now, I won’t say I was scared because I am just that good, but I was just the teeny bit nervous; nothing too bad I couldn’t handle.”
“Really?” Connor rolled his eyes, “How bad was it?”
“Weeellllll, I might have, possibly, not saying that it ever happened or anything (!), but I might have been freaking out just a hair.”
“Oh really?” Connor’s mischievous and teasing grin returned, “And you weren’t freaking out so badly that you didn’t almost bail from the entire thing, huh?”
“Yeah! That’s right! I would never be scared away from a challenge!” Rainbow boasted while cracking a smile.
They stood there for second before they laughed together at the joke, both knowing the actual truth behind the story thanks to Rainbow’s friends. Connor finished chuckling and Rainbow smiled at seeing his mood come back to normal.
“See, you’ll do fine,” Rainbow put a hoof around Connor, “Just go out there and do your best! Don’t worry about if you’re going to lose. If you do, I’ll make sure to win for both of us!”
Connor laughed again, “Thanks Rainbow.”
“Attention all pegasi competitors!” a loud country voice came over on a microphone, “Please report to officials’ table for competition. Again, please report to the officials’ table; thank you.”
Well, that’s our call,” Connor said, “Let’s do this.”
“That’s the spirit! Come on, let’s go!” Rainbow trotted off for the officials’ desk with Connor following behind her.
~~~
Connor
He was glad things were finally happening again because Connor was more than just a little nervous. A lot more ponies showed up for this competition than he expected; like hundreds more than he expected. Competitors for both aerial and land based had shown up to fight against each other in Paint Wars with spectators of all ages showing up to watch the exciting matches. A lot of fans were friends and family showing up to support those competing in the matches while some ponies were coming to see what all the fuss was about.
The land based fighters had been playing all that morning up until noon where everypony took a break for lunch and, what looks like, an opening speech/ceremony. The whole deal felt similar to the martial art tournaments he had competed in. but this was a different tournament.
He wasn’t just competing for a score rating and hoping he got a better score than the other guy. This was a fight he was going into willingly, or unwillingly since Rainbow Dash was the one who forced him to compete. The was competition looked really good today; like good enough to make him look like ‘Slow moving target practice’ good. Rainbow Dash’s story had helped, but that fear was still lingering in the back of his mind like a predator stalking its prey.
He made his way to the officials’ table and stood in line with the rest of the ponies forming in front of it. The ponies working behind the table were pouring over papers and probably drawing up different divisions for all the competitors that showed up along with brackets for each division; just another item on the list of delays trying to prevent the inevitable.
Just off to the side of the table on an elevated stage, Connor’s eye caught a pony standing behind a megaphone. His silver star badge on his blue vest glinted in the clear sun’s rays and his black cowboy hat was clean of dust.
“Is that pony is the sheriff? I think Braeburn might have mentioned something about Appleloosa having one.” Connor mused.
“Howdy everypony, my name is Sheriff Silver Star and I wanted t’ thank y’all fer comin’ out to the very first Paint Wars comp’tition!” he announced with a twang confirming Connor’s suspicions.
There was a cheer from the crowd gathering around the stage from both competitors and fans alike. The sheriff waited for the crowd to simmer down before he continued. “I’m happy to say that today has been goin’ smoother than butter on a fryin’ pan and we’ve had some excitin’ matches from the ground battles! But now that they’re done, we’ll be movin’ on to the Pegasus fights in the air!”
All the pegasi lined up in front of the officials’ board let out an extra loud yell, eager to get in the air and start playing. Connor just smiled still working on keeping himself calm, but the uplifting enthusiasm of everypony around him was spreading like a virus making it easier to forget his worries and join in on the fun. The sheriff waved a hoof to quiet them down so he could speak again.
“Now hold on to yer saddles, I hav’n’t finished talking yet. Yer all so eager to get out there, but we still have to go over some the ‘Special’ conditions for y’all. The first one is by request of the event sponsor; during the pegasi matches we will be havin’ an announcer to commentate over y’all’s flyin’.”
“Goood Afternoon, Fillies and Gentlecolts!!”
Connor’s eyes went skyward as a large hot air balloon gently drifted in on an air current high above the canyons. It wasn’t anything fancy, just a small basket dangling precariously under a grey bag of hot air. But inside sat a goldenrod unicorn with wild red drab hair, excited blue eyes, and a microphone plastered on his side.
“Welcome, to the very first regional Paint Wars Tournament! I’m your host, Radio Play! I’ll be your commentator for today bringing you all the action Live, here in Willow’s Bowl Canyons! On every Daring to downright Dangerous Maneuver!”
The crowd roared as the contagious energy and enthusiasm poured out of the announcer high above. He had this 1940’s feeling of a fast paced sports announcer like he was trying to stuff as many words as possible into a single minute.
“Wow, this just got a whole lot more awesome!” Connor bristled with pent up stress ready to be released. This was new thing to Connor; even he didn’t know Sportsen was going to add an announcer to the tournament. But he was loving the surprise new addition regardless of being informed. He bounced on his hooves slightly while the line moved forward at a painstakingly slow rate wanting to get to flying soon.
“Ahem; yes, this will be our announcer,” Sheriff Silver Star begrudgingly said, “Now before we get too squirrelly, there are a few more things y’all need t’know. First-”
“Now since this is going to be our very first time holding this competition, there have been a few unique rules put in place!”
The sheriff grumbled to himself as Radio Play bellowed into his microphone again. “As you all know, there is a limit to how many balloons a pony can carry. That’s right, you’re only allowed to carry eight balloons, Total! The other special rule in place is a height restriction for all you high fliers out there.”
Some whining and complaining rose up from some of the pegasi who apparently liked flying to the stars and back in their matches. Connor rolled his eyes as their complaining fell on deaf ears.
“You heard it right, folks! You are only allowed to fly to the top of the flat top mountains before you must back and face your opponent, or face disqualification! So don’t spend too much time giving your fans the flyby.” The crowds laughed and chuckled at Radio Play’s jest.
“One last announcement before we begin! Alongside yours truly, I will also be having a guest host to comment on today’s action! Please give a warm welcome to our local buffalo mediator, Little Strongheart!”
There was another applause from the ponies in the surrounding area as the balloon drifted out of sight. Silver Star took this opportunity to finally regain control of the wild mob of ponies and get the tournament back on track.
“All competin’ Pegasus players move in to the holding pen, please!”
Connor furrowed his brow at the sheriff’s new command. Weren’t they supposed to go to the officials’’ table first before they went to the holding pen? The flow of ponies disagreed with the objection as everyone shuffled forward in the direction of the pen. Connor shrugged at the new improvised solution; maybe this would be a faster way to get the tournament moving again.
“Show time…” he chased after the crowd feeling his nerves tingle with more electricity. Hopefully, the tension wouldn’t tear him apart before he got to compete.
~~~
The wait was torture! Connor felt like he had been waiting there for forever listening for his number he was given to be called, only to be forced to wait even more when he didn’t hear it. That sudden burst of excitement and bravery from earlier had turned to in fear and self-doubt. The whole announcer idea was also backfiring in his face too; listening to him call out every move and shot made during each match was just adding more clouds to the already brewing storm of self-doubt in his mind.
It was almost like waiting for your execution as Connor sat there in a pen filled with agitated ponies and listening to the cheers and screams of the spectators. His metaphorical death would be slow and painful as Connor imagined himself being completely and utterly stomped by an opponent with way more experience and have to face the embarrassment of being beaten so badly.
Finally, he heard his number called up. “35!” the official called. He jumped at the sound of his number and his heart rate quickened by a few beats. He stood up and headed to the front of the crowd where an older stallion was directing traffic.
“Follow me.” the pony trotted over to a table with several open boxes. Connor walked up to the table and glanced in the boxes to see them filled with fresh marker and chaff balloons. “Pick yer load, but keep it below eight; and make sure you have at least one marker balloon.”
Connor nodded absentmindedly as he stared hard at the balloons contemplating what load out he should go with. He could go for an aggressive one and take spare red marker balloons, or he could play it cautiously and load up on extra chaff balloons. He debated with himself for a few seconds before he decided to go with a balanced load out and started packing four red markers and four blue chaff balloons in his saddles. Once he was done, he cinched his saddle bags to his back and put his goggles on top of his forehead.
The stallion nodded and directed Connor over to a lift. “Once you reach th’ top, you will meet the referee and your opponent before you play; understood?”
Connor nodded. As the lift started moving up the cliff face, the world melted away to only the sounds of rotating wooden gears and eerie silence. It created a strange sense of serenity inside of Connor as the world around him slowed to a crawl at his impending match. His gaze finally steadied itself and his face hardened; He didn’t know who his opponent was or how good they were, but he was going to give it his best shot against them.
The lift breached the edge of the mountain top and sound came rushing back to Connor. Hordes of crazed ponies lined every cliff edge scrambling to get a good view of the action. The screams and cheering reverberated off the canyon walls like the field itself was shouting its own desire for more entertainment; and they were loud shouts from the canyon walls. The current playing field they were in was huge! The single canyon bowl alone had to be at least two or three football fields big! Collectively, all the space they were allowed to play in could cover a good portion of the Grand Canyon from his world if Connor had ever visited it to make the comparison.
Words of encouragement or chanting from the fans vibrated his ears to the point of almost being painful. Mixed in with all the shouting were the wandering calls of food vendors and trinket vendors alike, selling snacks, noise makers, hats, and number one hoof gloves. The warm, dry air smelt like a blend of dust, paint, and chalk powder as he filled his lungs with oxygen. A nice, light breeze from the rear was brushing past his feathers with tantalizing lures of danger and excitement daring each competitor to push their limits to the max!
In the middle of the flat mountain top, the referee stood waiting dressed in a typical black and white striped polo along with his opponent; none other than Sour Patch himself. He still wore his cowboy hat and dirt-eating grin from yesterday, but now he was sporting a pair of saddle bags on his back as well. He spotted Connor still standing on the lift and his dirt-eating grin grew even larger.
“Well, well, well; look what the cat dragged in! ‘Thought you’d never show up. I was goin’ to ask if you were going to let your marefriend do all the flyin’ for you since she seemed like the better flier of th’ two of you!”
Connor stared for a second before bellowing a hearty laugh. “Rainbow and I are not going out together. Not even in the slightest, thank you very much.” He trotted over to him and the referee, “I hope you are ready to have your ash beat today.”
“We’ll see about that, city boy,” Sour Patch sneered, “I know these canyons like the back of my hoof, so there’s no way you’re beatin’ me!”
“AHEM!!” the two looked at the referee scowling at them over his thick bar mustache. It actually reminded Connor of the same kind of thick mustaches he imagined on old, small town police officers in movies. But the two arguing pegasi backed off under the hard stare of the ref and reluctantly fell in line next to each other.
“Gentlecolts,” he said in his gruff voice, “This will be a one round match. You will fly around Willow’s Bowl Canyon, trying to hit the other with a marker, then come back. There will be no bumpin’, no grindin’, no fightin’, no bitin’, no eye pokin’, no wing cuttin’, no feather slashin’, no air hoggin’, no tail pullin’…”
“Ham, just how many things are there?!” Connor asked rhetorically, “I don’t even know what half of these things are supposed to be!”
“… And no lollygaggin’!” the ref finished.
Connor half nodded in semi-understanding when Sour Patch psst-ed at him. He leered to his side and watched Sour Patch point at him, then raised his hoof and made a whistling noise as his hoof crashed back down in the ground. Connor rolled his eyes in response.
“Do I make myself clear?” the referee asked loudly.
The two nodded again and the old Pegasus gave a huff.
“You,” he pointed at Sour Patch, “Will start on that rock pillar.” Sour Patch flew to where he was directed.
“And you,” he pointed at Connor, “Will start on that rock pillar.” Connor looked at the rock pillar in question and nodded as he took off for his starting position. It was pretty small and thin, barely any room to get a running start on it. He landed and position himself as far back on the ledge as he dared to get as much running space as possible.
When Connor was satisfied with his position, he surveyed his surroundings. In front of him about fifty meters away stood Sour Patch making his own final preparations. Sour Patch turned to Connor and shot another smirk his way. He removed his cowboy hat to reveal his luscious, wavy, brown hair underneath that billowed slightly in the wind with a natural sheen to it like he was some kind of Prince Charming. Somehow while still working on an apple farm, he had managed to keep his hair looking this luxurious amidst all the heavy work of a normal working farm day.
There were more than a few whistles and ooo’s from the female sections of the crowd and Sour Patch entertained their fantasies by shooting a few with his signature wink at them before stuffing his cowboy hat in his bags and replaced them with flight goggles.
The sheer audacity of this guy was borderline stupid and Connor couldn’t help but crack up like a hyena. Of all times, this guy had to keep his mare fans going with flirting and teasing them like that. Connor pedaled around on his small launch platform trying to work off his giggle fit as fast as possible before the match started. “Hooohh my gosh! This guy is more wheat-hearted than I thought! Man, I’m almost envious of this crick with how all the girls are wanting him!” he cackled in his mind.
The referee hovered between the two competitors in the air and growled at Sour Patch. “You! Pay attention or I’ll call the match right here!”
Sour Patch frowned, but did as he was told. The ref glanced between the two pegasi making sure he had both of their attention.
“Gentlecolts!” he bellowed, “Spread! Your! WINGS!!”
Sour Patch flared his wings forcibly like a peacock kicking up an impressive cloud of dust behind him. The spectators grew even louder at the show of strength and impending start of the match. It was an impressive display of power, but anypony can make themselves look big and tough with making a big mess.
Connor snickered to himself; he could take this guy. He was all show and no skill, so he had to have him beat. He unfurled his own wings, though not as dramatically, and gave a few practice flaps to work out any kinks in his muscles. The ruffling of his feathers, the sound of his wings beating the air below him like a drum; it was spurring his excitement like a race car driver revving his engine waiting for the green light of a race. He pulled down his goggles over his eyes and the world around him turned to a tinted version of itself.
The ref raised his hoof high in the air and made one final check for their attention before beginning his count down.
“3!”
Connor lowered his body like a wolf building tension to pounce.
“2!”
His back hoof slid against the ground to get better traction for a better takeoff.
“1!”
A bang like a gunshot rang out as the referee’s hoof fell.
Connor dug his hooves into the ground as his body launched forward like a compressed spring. He galloped as fast as possible for the edge which felt like it was miles away. Time seemed to be slowing down more and more the closer he got until he finally jump into the air.
Time froze around Connor as he hung in the air. He couldn’t pick one detail to focus on, so his eyes chose for him and stared at the ground miles below him. A sinking feeling washed over him starting from the pit of his stomach to the tips of his hooves. The ground was getting closer to him. Was He falling or was time speeding up to normal again?
Something hooked underneath his shoulder blades as the ground came closer and closer. Connor was running out of time staring blankly forward; he needed to do something now before it was too late. He arched his back feeling those hooks dig in more and pull him out of his dive and past three rock pillars. A giant wall loomed in his way and he veered right alongside it to not crash. He finally remembered to breath and he sucked air down in his lungs before yelling, “WOOOOOOO-HOO-HOO-HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!”
Never mind! Flying was actually pretty awesome! It was so refreshing hearing wind rush past his ears! He couldn’t stop smiling as his worries flaked off his body and into the wind. Nothing could hold him back right now! He was free to carve his own path! Nothing-
Whzzz, splat!!
“Holy yuck!”
A red paint marker just barely missed his head by a few inches and impacted the wall on his left. Connor snapped back at the marker that almost hit him, then looked up to see who had thrown it. Reality came back like a mother with a list of chores as he spotted Sour Patch coasting on the air ways high above him waiting to snag his catch of the day.
He gritted his teeth; how could he let himself forget about the match? He stuffed his hoof into his bags and popped a chaff balloon and disappeared into his cloud. He ducked and leaned through the impeding forest of rock columns hoping he was making a hard enough target to hit. A red marker struck his left wing tip as he was pulling right. Connor shot a quick look at his wing; the balloon didn’t burst on impact so he was still in the game, but it meant that Sour Patch was zeroing in on him.
Connor slowed down a hair and glanced up searching for his target. He squinted into the sun’s glare to see Sour Patch slowly flying around near the top of the canyons picking his shot at Connor. He growled at him for being good enough to put him on his heels, and to himself for allowing Sour Patch to put him on the defensive. He needed to do something soon or he was going to lose this.
He glanced back to his flight path and panicked as he was heading straight for a rock column. He flared his wings and pulled back into snap canopy roll to the left to just barely miss death with his open arms.
“Glob gambit!” he swore out loud. “Hucking focus!”
~~~
“Ooo, that looked like a close one!”
Sour Patch chuckled lightly to himself as he casually flapped to keep himself afloat. Since the start of the match, he had set up a plan to take down his rival while he was more intent on playing around in the canyons far below him. Looks like all that talk from the pony from the city was really just that, talk. But he had to admit, Connor was actually pretty good.
“Not bad, city boy. You’re actually pretty quick,” he smirked to himself again, “But all that speed is useless like a rotten apple core if you don’t know how t’use it. And I know these canyons like the back of my hoof!”
He reached back to recheck his ammo. “’Got three markers left; gonna need to save them for when I get closer,” he thought out loud. Sour Patch peered back down at his prey like a hawk, “Shouldn’t be too hard. The city boy’s more shaken up than a leaf blowin’ in the wind.”
Sour Patch glanced ahead of where Connor was flying looking for opportunities to strike. He had plenty of time to look; with him being so high up here and his opponent scurrying around so far below him. But something from the city boy caught his eye. He squinted through his goggles to see exactly what he was doing.
As Connor was banking around another rock pillar, he rolled over on his back and made a gesture like he was rowing a boat. Hang on a sec! He wasn’t rowing, the hotshot was egging him! He was taunting him even though he clearly had the upper hoof!
“Oh, so the city pony thinks he’s the big apple here, huh? I’ll show him!”
Sour Patch nose-dived grinning maliciously when he saw Connor turn tail and run. Now both of them were darting through the forest of rocky trees like foxes and rabbits. Connor rounded one pillar, then darted back the other direction trying to throw Sour Patch off and simultaneously score a hit on him. He guffawed when the first throw went high but he swallowed his laughter and popped a chaff balloon when a second balloon sailed for his face.
He swung out of the way and back into pursuit trying to close the gap. The city boy may be faster, but Sour Patch had home field advantage. Just ahead were two stone pillars lined up in a straight line with a pocket of open space to flying in; that’s where Sour Patch would make his move. Connor swerved right and pulled back around first column and into a predictable counter clockwise barrel roll.
“Nice try, city boy, but I’m already two steps ahead of you!” Sour Patch smeared in his head. He swung left outside, then darted back in planning to catch Connor just as he was finishing his roll around the second pillar. He dug out another red marker and readied his throw as he passed the second pillar.
“Where is he?” Sour Patch glanced left, right, and down looking for him with little success. He finally looked up to see his blue body flapping furiously up towards the cliff’s edge high above them. “And just where do you think you’re goin’?” Sour Patch growled loudly as he pumped his own wings to give chase.
He fixated his eyes his blonde tail bobbing up and down to the beating of his wings as they flew faster and faster. Sour Patch was getting closer to Connor, but not quite close enough to risk throwing his marker. The cliff face was getting awfully big in his peripheral and Connor wasn’t slowing down.
“Is he tryin’ to get himself disqualified? He knows we’re not allowed to fly above the canyon tops for too long!”
He watched Connor slowly rotate over into flying inverted. Sour Patch felt his own body rotate over against his will until he was flying just like Connor. The cliff edge was right in front of them and it could only be a miracle if they made it without crashing.
“Oh sweet Luna, help me!!” he mentally screamed as they rocketed past the cliff edge.
~~~
The crowd roared ferociously as the two pegasi traded blows with each other as they zig-zagged in, out, and around pillars in a dangerous game of cat and mouse. It was pretty clear in the beginning which pony had the upper hoof over the other. The local favorite was getting quite a lot of support from Appleloosan residents and out-of-towners as he pummeled this foreign blue Pegasus from who knows where.
But their cheering slowly shifted to panic screaming as the pair aimed for a head-on collision course with the fans. The spectator ponies scattered to the wind fleeing in every direction away from the cliff edge to avoid being hit. And just in time too; the pair blasted past the cliff edge at deadly speeds kicking up dust clouds while flying low n’ fast and upside-down over the heads of the spectators with only feet to spare.
“Unbelievable!! What a Daring Move from the New Pony! These two are struggling to keep up with each other in their fight to see who will step back from the edge first! Literally, on the edge of crashing into the cliff!”
Flying high above all the action, Radio Play was gripping his microphone with a fervor while his guest, Little Strongheart sat quietly enjoying the show below. Radio Play had been a nonstop chatterbox since the matches had started and now was no exception.
“Never in all my years have I seen such Desperate moves from players fighting for Attack Position! Have you, Miss Strongheart?”
Radio Play turned his spotlight to the young buffalo sitting beside him. Little Strongheart jumped slightly at being reminded that she was still in a hot air balloon and was supposed to be commenting on the games.
“Oh! Well, no; I don’t believe so,” she awkwardly admitted. Didn’t this pony understand that she was a buffalo? “But didn’t these games only start just a few weeks ago? How could-”
“Well, my dear, these aren’t my first sporting events I’ve done. Have you seen hoofball before? Good stuff! But I was feeling like I needed to mix things up a bit, and that’s exactly what these two Fighters are doing right now!”
Little Strongheart pouted slightly as she was cut off again before she could finish her sentence.
“Tell me, Miss Strongheart; how would you describe these two fliers duking it out in the skies right now?” Radio Play stared at the buffalo mediator like a little colt eagerly waiting for story time.
“Well, I am not sure how I would explain the match right now, but I do remember seeing a similar thing during one of our last stampedes. Shortly after stopping for water at the river, I witnessed a snake chase after a small, white mouse as its next meal.”
Little Strongheart’s eyes drifted off as she gazed back up the stream of life and memory trying to recall the details. “The mouse darted across the ground looking to escape the snake through bushes and rocks, but in the end, the snake caught the white mouse and devoured it.”
Somewhere in the stands, Fluttershy was currently crying into Twilight’s shoulder as she listened to the sad story of a cute, little, white mouse becoming some monster’s meal.
“My father caught me watching the two and explained to me-”
“Fascinating!” Radio Play said resting his head in both hooves with rapt interest like a child, “You’ll have to tell me the rest of the story later. Let’s get back to the Action! And it looks like our little blue mouse is looking a little white as local farm pony, Sour Patch, move in for the Score as he comes down the inside!”
~~~
“Come on, come ooon! What’s my plan, here?!” Connor pumped his wings trying to evade Sour Patch right on his tail while dodging rock pillars everywhere. He couldn’t waste more shots like last time; he needed to make them count.
He curled around one particular pillar only to be forced to barrel roll around the second behind it. Connor instinctively used the momentum generated by his barrel roll to sling shot him to the right when a crazy idea hit him. He pitched back sending him up and towards the cliff. The cliff wall was in stark contrast against the bright blue sky behind it. Connor squinted against the intense glare trying to find the edge of the cliff.
“What am I even doing?”
The cliff was fast approaching while Connor was still trying to see through the intense sun. His mind was on overdrive working on making the next step of his insane plan. He was inbound on a collision course when his mind spat out the next move. “This could be close,” he thought uneasily as he read over his crazy plan.
The cliffs were becoming close enough Connor could make out individual silhouettes now scampering to get away. “Okay, like, really close!”
He twisted his wings just a hair sending his body into a slow roll until he was inverted and heading straight for the horizon.
“Too close!! TOO CLOSE!!!”
He curled his body forward just enough to miss the cliff face and scream over the edge at blistering speeds! His mouth felt dry as he inhaled and his limbs went limp by his sides letting gravity control his flight path over the tops of ponies’ heads.
But he couldn’t stay above the mountains for long; he needed to get back in the canyons. He looked ahead for other edge of the mountain. Something about the incoming ledge sparked an idea in his head and his body acted on the new plan. As soon as his head was just over the ledge of the next cliff, Connor’s hoof slipped out a chaff balloon and clapped his hooves together bursting the balloon. A split second later, Connor pulled back hard again and rolled back into a hard right turn, then left along the cliff wall again.
The wall blocked off another section in the canyons filled with at least a dozen archways. Mother Nature had not been kind to this section of the playing fields as she had ground down every surface to a smooth sandstone finish. It definitely made for a different flying surface as it felt like the wind was slipping out and escaping out underneath Connor’s wings. But the bonus to Mother Nature’s abuse was that it carved out a very nice path that snaked back and forth from wall to wall and down to a small river flowing at the bottom of the sloping region.
Connor spotted the track and slid down the wall into the first bend. The archway guarding the first bend cast him in shadow before the sun blasted him again in its sweltering heat. The rocks below him was cooking him like a ceramic oven. He could feel the sweat beading down his forehead streaking off his face from the force of the wind.
But Connor didn’t care! The thrill of the speed, the smoothness of the path felt like a race track! With its twists and turns feeding his racing addiction, Connor suddenly felt like the king of the world! If this had been a race, he would have easily left Sour Patch in the dust. A red marker balloon brought him back to reality and passed right through his tail hairs.
“Holy Sweet Cheese’s, Mother Of Tod!!!” Connor flinched. The shot had come from the direction of the cliff. He glared up through the sun to spot Sour Patch looking like an angry bull ready rip him apart for making him do such a dangerous stunt.
Connor sped up down the rest of his section before it made a sharp U-turn at the end and doubled back down another straight. Another arch way reached over the top half way down the track. Connor prayed that he made it past this arch way before Sour Patch tried for another shot, he would have enough time to think of a counterattack. But Sour Patch skidded into view on the other side of the arch way wearing a triumphant grin before Connor could reach it.
“Bad time! Bad time!!” He flared his wings trying to brake, but there wasn’t enough distance. He used the archway to assist him by flying along the edges in a wingover maneuver to double back the way he came. Suddenly, an unexpected escape route opened up. It was a thin crevice tucked away behind the last corner he passed. Connor thanked his lucky stars as he put on a burst of speed and plunged head first into the little canyon. Just as Connor dove in, he popped another chaff balloon to obscure the entrance and hide his getaway.
The close quarters of the ravine left little room for error at these breakneck speeds. The path twisted back and forth on itself with a never-ending blind turns and surprise snap-back corners. It tested the utmost limits to those brave enough to take it head on. A challenge Connor accepted with fierce determination. He flapped harder, trying to weave every corner with pin-point precision. This time, he kept his mind focused. Using this small break from being hunted, Connor fished around in his bags to recount his remaining balloons. He was stunned to find he only had one chaff and two marker balloons left!
Connor cursed himself, he was hoping to beat his opponent before running low on ammo. His momentary lapse in concentration made him break late, causing him to come ever closer to the rock wall and earning a new scratch under his belly. He flinched in pain, but pressed on. Connor could feel it coming, his last shot at victory. Finally, the valley relaxed giving him some flying room.
Finally, the valley relaxed giving him some flying room. Despite the extra room, Connor was still moving rather fast. With his options running out, he decided to try out a maneuver stashed in his back pocket. It was untested and he only saw in a video once, but he needed to do something big if he wanted to catch Sour Patch off guard.
After a final right turn, the end of the alley came into view. Connor swapped to the other wall with a roll over the top and snapped his wings open catching the compressed air between him and the wall. He grunted and strained his wings as the path curved into a long sweeping left into the open world beyond.
The second the canyon opened its mouth, Connor pulled back up the cliff face for a barrel roll. But just as he passed by the cliff gates, he popped his last chaff balloon and twisted his wings and body forcing himself into a tight roll in the opposite direction of his original roll at dizzying speeds. The rush of blood was on an entirely new level. It felt like all of his blood was being sucked out of his head by a high powered vacuum hose.
Like a poorly made paper airplane, Connor felt himself unable to control his rolls. His eyes rolled back in their sockets as he flexed his wings fighting to regain his balance. He was finally able to level himself out into a stable left turn as blood came rushing back to his head giving him a massive headache. He squinted against the pain as he tried to figure out where he was again.
The open space surrounding him was an open plain of harsh and unforgiving territory; not even the grass dared to venture that far into the wastelands that was outside of Appleloosa. It also marked the edge of the map of what was considered legal play.
A good ways below him, his blue smoke screen lingered in front of the canyon exit blocking everything from view. And right on schedule, a green and brown missile shot out from the canyon exit taking a small blue trail behind him and banking to the left in search of his kill.
“This is my chance!” Connor dove for the befuddled Sour Patch still looking for his opponent. It was now or never! He dug out one of his last remaining red markers, cocked back his arm, and fired. His marker flew through the air and collide with the side of Sour Patch’s head and in his ear just as he was turning to look left.
“Yes! I can't believe I got him!” He watched with glee as the red paint splattered Patch’s face and sent him into a dizzying spiral before crash landing in the dirt with as much grace as a car wreck.
“Ooooooooo!! That looked like it hurt…” he laughed to himself.
“TWEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!” a whistle blasted through this ears breaking his concentration. Sounds from elsewhere hit him like a wall as ponies flooding the edge of the nearest cliffs screamed with glee at a spectacular match!
“Oh My Goodness!! What an amazing comeback! Our blue friend forces a huge overshoot on Sour Patch and snags the win out from under his hooves! Fantastic flying!” the announcer from earlier drifted in on his hot air balloon practically screaming his words into his microphone.
Little Strongheart nodded in agreement. “Yes, it was quite an enjoyable ma-!”
“Sour Patch was right behind him, and yet still just out of reach!”
“Y-Yes! I’m sure if given enough time he could have-!”
“And an Excellent getaway made from the New Pony! Absolutely Stunning turn of Events!!” Little Strongheart scoffed angrily falling silent again as Radio Play babbled on again by himself.
Connor panted to catch his breath, but he couldn’t resist smiling and give a weak wave to the fans. Despite the really rocky start, he was still able to put up a good fight and came out as the victor. He looked back down at his fallen enemy who was just now rolling back onto his stomach with pained efforts. Connor smiled with a mean glint in his eye and flew down to meet him; he still had a bet to settle.
He landed a few feet away and lifted his goggles up. Sunlight blasted his eyes forcing him to squint. He walked over to stand over Sour Patch. It was just hilarious seeing how this guy bragged so much and to see him now beaten and humiliated in front of so many ponies. Connor couldn’t resist the opportunity to return the favor.
“Ooooohhhhhh!! Guess what?! Look who won! What now?!” he got in his face before backing away, “And according to our bet, I think there is something that I am supposed to get.” Connor stepped over Sour Patch and rummaged around in his bags until he found his prize; his favorite cowboy hat! He shook it off to get any kind of dirt that might be on it and set it on his head.
“I wonder how good I look with this on. Probably better than you did, heh heh…” He wiped a hoof across the brow of the hat and glanced down at Sour Patch.
Sour Patch really and truly did look pathetic. His goggles were askew and his hair was a mess still sticky with paint. He was covered in dirt from head to hoof and worst of all, tears were welling up in his eyes and beginning to drip down his cheeks. He looked like a little kid pouting because he didn’t get his way with the way he was glaring up at him.
“Oh my gosh, is he really crying about this? He talks soo much crab and he can't even take a little back?”
His desire to gloat switched to bitter sourness and dissatisfaction. To be honest, Sour Patch did surprise him with his skill, but he had come back from the disadvantage and beat him; he earned this victory as well as the right to brag. But Sour Patch was living up to his name with looking bitter and was only souring Connor’s triumph.
Connor snatched the hat off his head and threw it back into Sour Patch’s face just as the paramedics were arriving. “Oh my go- look, if you are going to act like a little hitch about this, then here, take your stupid little hat back!”
Sour Patch pulled his hat out the way to look up at him with tear streaked eyes. “Bu-but, you won fair and square! You’re just goin’ to give up on our bet like this?”
“It’s no fun beating someone if they’re going to act like a sore loser,” Connor growled, “So stop crying about it and get over it!”
Sour Patch looked at Connor still standing over him, then at his hat. He dried his eyes off with the back of his hoof and gave a loud sniff before putting on his signature hat. When finished, he came back to Connor with his face dry and a hard facial expression.
“Much better.” Connor thought with satisfaction. They held eye contact with each other for a few more seconds with only a single eye twitch from Connor before he turned around to leave Sour Patch with the paramedics.
“I’ll see you ‘round, Cowboy!” he shouted without even looking back at him just as another pony rushed by him.
~~~
Sour Patch stared disbelievingly after Connor as he walked away. He watched until Connor took off again still replaying his final words he had said to him before he left. “’I’ll see you ‘round cowboy’, ‘see you ‘round cowboy’, cowboy…” He rolled that final word around in his head over and over as its meaning slowly sank in. maybe, just maybe…
He couldn’t think too hard on it right now because just as Sour Patch looked up from his deep thinking, the love of his life, Apple Slice, was rushing to see her fallen hero.
“Oh my goodness, Sour Patch! Are you alright?” she skidded to a halt in front of him but the medics kept her back. Sour Patch waved the medics off and slowly rose to his hooves again. He had to look cool for her; he couldn’t look weak. This was his time to woo her with his charms and make something from this under-hoofed defeat!
“I-I’m fine, Apple Slice; thanks.” He tried to smile but it came out as a pained grimace. Why of all times did his confidence have to fail him now? This was his big chance!
However, his acting did not work on Apple Slice as she tended his wounds. she got close, close enough for Sour Patch to smell her warm, apple cinnamon scent in her mane, feel her worried breath against his face, and be lost in the endless emeralds of love that were her eyes. He could have stayed there all day just enjoying her presence so close to him.
“Are you sure you’re alright Sour Patch? Is there anything I can do to help?” her sweet voice felt like soft fur in his ears.
“W-W-Well, a-a kiss might make things better.” Sour Patch added his signature wink and smile combo. There was no doubt she was about to give a big, loving smooch on the lips right there; and after that, it was going to be smooth sailing from here on out! He might even be able to get married with her and start their own family and maybe their own apple farm!
A sharp smack across his head jolted him out of his dreams. “OW! What the-!”
“I’m married, Sour Patch.”
“Wha-what?”
“I said I’m married.”
Married?! But what about all his plans he had with her like his marriage and his family and his apple farm he wanted to start? “Bu-bu-bu-but…! You’re married?! When did you get married? You look so young!”
“Thank you, Sour Patch. That is really sweet of you to say,” She kindly smiled, “But I got married almost five years ago before we moved to Appleloosa. Plus, I’m a little too old for you and you are a little too late.”
“But then, what was with all the sweet talkin’ and playin’ around with me when I was in your shop?” he pleaded.
“Well, you did kind of remind me of my little brother who also got in a fair bit of trouble when he was younger,” she admitted.
“S-so, that other stallion in the shop is…”
“My husband, yes. What? Did you think that was my boss?”
Sour Patch glanced about avoiding eye contact for a second before nodding. Apple slice covered her mouth and let out an endearing laugh. He felt his cheeks redden. “Augh, Why do mares do that!? It doesn’t make me feel any less stupid when they laugh like the whole thing is a joke!”
“Well, you should be fine now,” she patted Sour Patch’s shoulder, “why don’t you try going after some of the other mares you like to flirt with. I’m sure they would like that instead of being teased all the time by you.”
Apple Slice turned without second thought while Sour Patch gaped at her dumbfounded. All this time, all this planning, all this dreaming had been for a lost cause because the mare was already taken! And to top it off, the lady had told him to chase after the other girls he had been flirting with for practice! No, it’s not right, it’s not fair!
“This is all your fault, city boy!!”