• Published 31st Dec 2013
  • 5,054 Views, 214 Comments

EqD Writer Training Grounds short stories by Georg - Georg



Week 19 - A Princess, her Mother, and the Piano that binds them together. Even Tartarus cannot keep them apart.

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Introducing the Wonderbolts! And Some Red Pony On A Flying Machine

Week 11 - Somepony to Watch Over Me -or- Introducing the Wonderbolts! And Some Red Pony On A Flying Machine

Applejack and Apple Bloom may have a difficulties delivering their pies, but Big Mac has even more devious obstacles between him and his final destination.

The city of Cloudsdale.

EqD prompt: Big Macintosh wishes chimeras were the only things he had to contend with on his delivery route. What he goes up against is far, far worse...

[Hot][Apple][Pies!]


Week 11 - Somepony to Watch Over Me
-or-
Introducing the Wonderbolts! And Some Red Pony On A Flying Machine


“Okay, Big Mac. You sure you got all the stuff you need for your route? You got the pacifier, right?”

“Eeyup.”

“Wonderbolts flier?”

“Eeyup.”

“Sweetie Belle’s cooking loaded in the trailer?”

“Eeyup.”

“Apple Bloom filled the oxidizer and the fuel tanks?”

“Eeyup.”

“Drank your cloud walking potion?”

“Eeyup.”

“Well, looks like you’re all set. See you back at the farm this evening.”

One loose strap was carefully hitched up over a shoulder before Big Mac began trotting down the road to Ponyville. The weekly delivery was getting to be routine, and despite the difficulties involved, he was beginning to like it. There had been no end of problems getting the pie wagon properly outfitted, but Apple Bloom had pitched in with her little friends and the results had been all he had hoped for and more. His casual trot turned into slow walk as a familiar blue streak in the sky transformed into the fastest pegasus in Equestria.

“Hiya, Big Mac. Headed out on your delivery again this week?” Rainbow Dash floated down in front of Mac’s path, making the big earth pony slow to a stop to avoid running into her.

“Eeyup.”

The pegasus moved closer until her muzzle was just inches in front of Big Mac’s nose. “And did you have any other delivery you’d like to make today?”

The breeze from Rainbow’s wings did little to evaporate the trickle of sweat that began to seep down Big Mac’s face, as he reached behind him with one rear hoof, reaching for a particular switch on the wagon. “Eenope. Just pies.”

“You know,” said Rainbow Dash, circling around the big red earth pony while flicking him with her tail and her wingtips, “I’ve always liked your dedication to the perfect pie, but you’ve been working awfully hard lately. Maybe you ought to take a break for a while. Find someplace to lie down. We could even talk about—” Rainbow Dash put her lips to Big Mac’s ear and whispered “—pie.”

“Oh, look,” rasped Big Mac, trying not to move his head as a small piece of paper blew by. “Is that a Wonderbolts ticket?”

“Where?!” Rainbow Dash darted up into the air with a rapid flap, and dashed off in pursuit of the colorful scrap of paper, which fluttered and darted in the wind created by her wings as she chased. After a few minutes of hot pursuit and an eventual ambush, Rainbow flattened the piece of paper against the ground and scowled.

“It’s just a flier! Big Mac, I thought you said — Big Mac? Where’d he go?”

* * *

“Thanks again, Pinkie,” rumbled Big Mac as he pulled various levers and twisted several props in place to convert his pie wagon into something more appropriate for a trip to his destination. Stubby wings now stuck out of both sides, as well as a small stabilization balloon on the top that read ‘Genuine Sweet Apple Acres’ in large letters. The wagon’s heavy wheels had been removed, replaced with spring-loaded skids that had been enchanted with the same cloudwalking runes as the buildings of Cloudsdale. With a satisfied grunt, Big Mac connected the trailer hitch to the back of Pinkie’s cloudcopter and made sure the bolt was securely fastened.

“You got that bolts screwed in tight?” asked Pinkie, carefully fussing over her precious flying machine with a soft cloth and some turtle wax (borrowed from Rainbow Dash for obvious reasons). “Because you know it’s always better to be screwed in tight than to be loose, although sometimes it’s kind of fun to be loose, but not for machines, because they need to be tight and lubed up really well with lots of grease, and tighter and lubed is always better, isn’t it, Big Mac?”

“Eeyup.” Big Mac paused with the sensation of something ominous and pink looming above him, breathing lightly into his mane. “Hey, Pinkie. What’s that?”

“Oh, no!” Pinkie Pie pounced on the pink pacifier laying on the grass and held it up to the light. “PC, that must be Pound Cake’s pacifier. Or Pumpkin Cake. They must have lost it when they were outside playing. Hold on, Big Mac. Pinkie will be right back, and I’ll even bring strawberries!” With a zip, Pinkie vanished into Sugar Cube Corner, only to emerge a few minutes later, calling out, “False alarm. They both already have pacifiers. I wonder who’s this is? Big Mac? Where did you go?”

* * *

With the Ponyville valley far behind, Big Mac leaned into the pedals of Pinkie’s flying machine and enjoyed the wind blowing through his mane. All of the mechanical parts of the flier and the trailer were working perfectly, properly tightened up and greased like the proverbial well-oiled machine, but he was not at the delivery point yet. The real danger lay ahead.

“Hey, Dweeb!” A griffon swept down out of the sky and shied off once she got close. “Hey, you’re not Pinkie Pie!”

“Eeynope,” said Big Mac, putting on a little more speed.

Gilda the griffon responded by lazily making a few laps around his flying machine and the trailing cart, leisurely looking them, and him, over from all angles before sliding up beside Big Mac with a sideways glance. “You know, we griffons appreciate a little pie too, just like ponies.”

“Eeyep,” said Big Mac, putting a little more effort into his peddling.

“I could use some… apple in my life about now,” she purred, swishing her feline tail behind her as she flew. “You wouldn’t know where I could get some… pie, would you?”

“Eenope.” Big Mac angled the flying machine slightly to one side and reached for a number of pull strings with his lips, identifying them by flavor.

Watermelon. Nope. Cherry. Nope. Zucchini. Yep.

“How about we put this contraption down somewhere and we — Mumgph!” The spring-loaded arm from the trailer caught Gilda right in the beak, delivering its tasty payload right into her mouth. The griffon lost altitude, chewing away as she flapped, finally swallowing and calling up, “That’s a pretty good apple muffin, you big lug, but I was looking for something a little more like—.”

“Zucchini?” called down Big Mac, lifting the nose of the flying machine and pointing towards Cloudsdale in the distance.

“Oh, yeah. I could go for some — hey! I’m losing altitude. Come back here! You haven’t heard the last of…”

Big Mac grinned as he peddled. Sweetie Belle’s Apple-Zucchini muffins had a density just this side of lead and would sit in the stomach like an anchor for most of a day, leaving Big Mac right on schedule for his delivery today.

* * *

Cloudsdale Arena spread out below him in a wide arc, filled with cheering pegasi. He could just barely make out the tiny red dot of the concession stand, and his target. There was just one thing left before the delivery could be complete.

“Hi there, Big Mac.” Soarin tucked in alongside of the flying machine, looking back at the pie-filled trailer it pulled. “You want us to pull that for a while?”

“Looks like he’s in a little distress, Soarin.” A second Wonderbolt tucked in on the other side of the flying machine with a matching grin. “Looks like we may have to catch him.”

“Sounds good, Fleetfoot,” called out Soarin with a licking of his lips. “You catch the driver and I’ll catch the pies.”

Lemon. Nope. Orange. Nope. Apple. Yeah.

“Good luck with that,” shouted Big Mac with a string in his teeth. “I hope you like your pies baked.” With a tug of the string, the rocket boosters in the back of the wagon ignited, and the flying machine rocketed forward with Big Mac peddling for all he was worth to keep in control. The arena grew rapidly ahead of him, but the sound of pursuit was growing closer, and a series of cloud rings was coming up fast. Off in the distance he could hear the announcer shouting into the public address system.

Fillies and Gentlecolts, approaching the Rings of Flaming Death from the south is the fabulous flying duo of Soarin and Fleetfoot… And some red pony on a flying machine. Oh, no! It looks like somepony is going to get burned, because there goes the ignitors!

With a sudden blast of flame while he passed through the first cloud ring, they erupted into fire with tongues of red and orange singing the bottom of the flier as he wrenched the machine to the left, then to the right. Corkscrewing through a complicated set of burning rings, he could see Soarin and Fleetfoot tucked right in to either side of the wagon, the smoke trails from their costumes combining with the rocket contrail of the wagon to make a crackling noise that could not block the Ooo’s and Ah’s from the surrounding crowd. Wrenching the flying machine inverted as he passed the last burning cloud ring, he continued the roll, bursting through a paper Wonderbolts banner as the hard-packed surface of the food court became far too close.

Kumquat. Nope. Guava. Nope. Apples. YES!

With a yank of the string, the hammering thrust of the rockets cut off abruptly and a drogue parachute exploded out the back of the wagon. He shoved the nose of the flying machine down and to the right, skidding sideways across the surface with the wagon tilting to one side, spraying little clods of compacted cloud in all directions until coming to a rest right next to the concession stand. The parachute settled slowly to the ground, flanked by both Wonderbolts as they raised their forelegs high to the cheering crowd and took a bow. Big Mac stepped out of the flying machine to the top of the collapsed parachute, rearranging it a little to make sure the Sweet Apple Acres logo was properly displayed before the announcer’s voice cut through the cheering.

Let’s hear it for the Wonderbolts, and our special guest, Big Macintosh from Sweet Apple Acres! As a reminder, Sweet Apple Acres is just one of the hosts of this afternoon’s program, and you can find their apple pies and other goodies at our refreshment stand during the break. We’ll be right back with the second half of our show in just fifteen minutes.

* * *

Big Mac sat back against the empty wagon with a tall, cold cider and watched the concession stand with a smile. The sound of bits clinking was a constant rattle, and it looked like the inventory was going to sell down to the pie tins yet again. He only twitched a little in his relaxed state as a sweaty Wonderbolt slipped up under one foreleg and helped herself to a substantial drink from his cider.

“Hey there, hot stuff. How did you like the little addition we did this week?” Fleetfoot batted her eyelashes and took another drink of cider, licking her lips afterwards.

“Pretty hot,” said Big Mac, reclaiming his mug and taking a drink. “Not half as hot as you, though. Who thought of setting the clouds on fire?”

“Spitfire said it would be a real crowd-pleaser, and it certainly seemed to drive them wild.” Reclaiming the cider, Fleetfoot drained it to the bottom and licked the rim. “Speaking of driving somepony wild, how about we sneak off and get me out of this sweaty uniform? You know I can’t get enough of you just once a week.”

Big Mac sat the empty mug down and wrapped a foreleg around his marefriend instead. “Thought you had half the show left?”

“I was only in the first half. My part’s over.” She leaned up and pressed her lips against Big Mac in a scorching hot kiss that tasted like apples. “I think you deserve a little reward for your performance.” She kissed him again, only longer.

“Don’t think it’s over,” said Big Mac with a smile. “Think it’s just starting.”

That brought a smile to the athletic Wonderbolt as she slipped her wings around his back. “Oh, if you think this week was fun, just wait until I tell you what we’ve got set up for next week.