//------------------------------//
// Chapter 3 
// Story: Small Town, Big Business 
// by Shamrock95 
//------------------------------//

The doors of Hotshot's Grill had been closed for the day, and Hotshot was looking over his earnings for his first day in business, all while grinning and laughing like a stallion who'd been given a new lease on life. To say that his first day in business had been a success would have been such an understatement that it would not have done justice to the term "understatement" itself. The day had gone better than he had ever dared to imagine.

After those three pegasi had flown out the door carrying a month's worth of oat burgers between them, Hotshot had seen quite a few other customers come through his door as the residents of Ponyville went about their daily routines that afternoon. All through the afternoon, he had gone through the routine of acting nice to the customers, giving them their food, and watching them take a single bite before descending upon it like ravenous timberwolves and leaving while carrying at least a week's worth of food with them. He smirked as he remembered some of the customers whose reaction had particularly stuck in his mind. There was the mare who had literally whooped with joy when he told her that she could get as much pizza as she wanted on credit, and had ended up clearing him out. The stallion who had nearly gone catatonic after trying the chilli hay fries. The two Filly Scouts who had come in with a load of money made from selling cookies—and had then proceeded to spend it all on his own cookies, appropriately enough.

All told, Hotshot had made an incredible total of 1,780 bits on his first day; these Ponyville folks obviously had more money to burn than he'd expected. Of course, that was before he gave Astuto his twenty percent cut, and he'd have to get more supplies to replace the ones that his new addicts/regulars had torn through, but he would still be making a very nice profit after all of that. Besides, he planned to keep the cost of ingredients down by simply buying the cheapest ones available. It wasn't like his customers would care about the quality of the food once the blubbercup essence had its grip upon them.

If he'd made this much in a single day, Celestia knew how much he'd be making once he had even more ponies under his hoof. It was a rare example of a virtuous cycle; ponies see other ponies eating at Hotshot's daily, ponies figure food must be very good, ponies try food, ponies get hooked, repeat. It was a cycle that, before long, would make him an extremely wealthy stallion.

And who knew? Sometime in the future, he might even be able to expand his operations all over Equestria, becoming the sole dominant force in the restaurant business as entire cities fell under his spell. But Hotshot was careful not to get ahead of himself; that would take a lot of time, and a lot of money. For now, he was content to keep fleecing these silly small-town hicks. That was their problem, really—they were too naive, too trusting. But hey, that was the opportunity Hotshot had seen and taken.

And what a great opportunity it was, he thought, laughing again as he locked the cash register and set about writing up a mail order for some cheap and nasty ingredients. If he hurried, he could get it to the post office before they closed. He needed the ingredients—he expected to have a lot more customers in the coming days.





It had been a week since Hotshot had first opened the doors of his restaurant, and true to his predictions, more and more of the residents of Ponyville had wandered in after seeing others gorging themselves on his food, and had wandered out gorging themselves in the exact same manner. He'd been working flat out all afternoon to keep up with the demands of his ever-growing horde of customers, some of whom were returning twice or even thrice daily to place another exorbitant order. He gave thanks to the fact that he'd bulk-bought those new ingredients—if he hadn't, he'd have had to close his doors only midway through the afternoon due to the sheer demand exceeding the supply. As it was, though, he was moving at a comfortable pace. He'd already sent Astuto his cut of the profits, and was now waiting for an expected delivery of blubbercup essence later that day.

The door opened for what seemed like the hundredth time that day, and Hotshot looked up, expecting it to be the delivery. Instead, it was a sight that brought a smile to his face. It was Thunderlane, one of his first customers and fast becoming one of his best customers. It was all Hotshot could do to keep himself from laughing out loud when he saw the state of the guy after a week of stuffing himself with cheap fried oats and hay.

The once so stocky and athletic Thunderlane now wobbled and jiggled with every step. Large deposits of fat clung to his belly, flanks and cheeks, and a second chin was starting to form around his neck. Thunderlane didn't even seem to be aware of how much weight he'd gained, but even if he had, his desire for food would have far outweighed his desire to diet or exercise—which was, of course, just the way Hotshot liked it. Thunderlane puffed and panted slightly as he made his way to the counter.

"Hey, Thunderlane," Hotshot said cheerfully. "The usual dozen oat burgers, right?"

Thunderlane nodded, a hungry look in his eyes. "Yes, please. Whoof, is it just me, or is it getting warmer out? I seem to be getting more and more out of breath whenever I walk here," he said, wiping a bead of sweat from his brow with a pudgy hoof.

"Is it?" Hotshot said innocently, as he placed a tray of oat burgers on the counter in front of Thunderlane. "Gosh, I didn't notice. Oh, before you go, Thunderlane, I should probably tell you that I've had to raise the prices on oat burgers a little bit. Supply and demand, you know?"

"Oh?" Thunderlane said nervously.

"Yeah, from now on, it's going to go from four to eight bits per burger. Is that okay?"

Thunderlane bit his lip, before nodding and handing over ninety-six bits. As he waddled out the door carrying his precious food, a grey pegasus mare dressed in a postal worker's uniform trotted in carrying a parcel on her back.

"Hello!" she called out cheerfully to Hotshot. "I've got a package here for a Mister..." She squinted with unfocused eyes at the scrawled name on the address. "...Mister Hot Pocket?"

"Ah... yes, that would be me." Hotshot took the package from the mare. "Thanks." Then a thought occurred to him. "Oh, before you go, Miss..." He took a look at her nametag. "...Muffins, would you perhaps care for a sandwich or something? On the house, of course."

"Oh, my name's not Muffins," the pony said, giggling. "I'm just borrowing a coworker's uniform for the day. My real name is Derpy. And sure, why not? It'll save me having to get lunch later."

"Excellent," Hotshot grinned, handing her a simple daisy and lavender sandwich. When Derpy took a bite, her ears twitched and her eyes widened and momentarily correctly realigned themselves. She practically inhaled the rest of the sandwich.

"If you'd like another one, they're only a bit each," Hotshot said casually.

"I'll take twenty," Derpy spluttered, slamming a coin purse on the counter.

Hotshot smirked as yet another victim tore out the door carrying his wares with her. "This is just too easy."