The Poncho Chronicles III: Amsterdam

by BRyeMC

Wasting Time

Upon the return to the cottage, since it was nearly one in the morning, most of the group decided to go to sleep in their room. While they were entering the cottage, they saw Tyrone and Junior still playing Greg the game console with a movement sensor. They were playing some dancing game and Tyrone got distracted by the group’s entrance by waving at them, which Junior took advantage of. Tyrone began yelling at Junior while the others either went to their rooms or got something to eat real quick before finally heading to their room.

Excluding Tyrone and Junior, only Clyde, Patel, and Jeb stayed awake for a bit longer. Patel was on his computer looking up random facts about the surrounding country and drawing maps in his notebook for future reference.

Clyde fulfilled his daily promise to Rarity, by calling her through a video chat program since it was only seven in the evening in Ponyville time. They talked for a few hours until Rarity noticed Clyde’s multiple yawns and told him to get some good rest, as she didn’t want to be the source of his late night fatigue. At first he didn’t want to end the call, but he soon gave in to her offer.

Jeb took the time to also doodle in his notebook, but unlike Patel, he drew random crests and emblems. He even tried drawing some landscapes, but after some unsuccessful attempts gave up.

The next morning, Junior was the first one awake. He looked up at Tyrone, who occupied the bed and stood close to him.

“Dad!” yelled Junior as loudly as possible.

Tyrone, who jolted awake, flew off the bed and crashed to the floor. “Junior! What the hell! I’ll kill ya!”

“Dad! It’s time for breakfast!”

“Son! Give me five damn minutes!” Tyrone jumped back onto his bed and pulled the covers over him. Junior sadly lowered his head and slowly walked into the hallway. He made his way to the main den and sat on the couch. He turned on the television and quietly watched it until Tyrone got up.

Two hours later, along with Tyrone, most of the others also woke up. Tyrone was the first one to walk into the den. He saw Junior sitting on the couch and yawned. “Sorry Junior, you still want that breakfast?”

“Ya!” Junior jumped off the couch and ran to the kitchen while Tyrone dragged himself behind. While Tyrone was getting cereal for Junior, Rivs and Sticky came into the kitchen.

“What time did the others get back?” asked Rivs, taking a breakfast bar from the shelves.

“‘Bout one,” replied Tyrone. He slid the cereal bowl to Junior and took out another bowl for himself.

“Did you beat him in that dancing game?” asked Sticky laughing.

“Hell no. I think Greg has it out with me or sumthing. It kept saying my dance moves didn’t match the character’s.”

“Stop making excuses dad! I totally outdanced you!” Junior laughed while trying to eat a mouthful of cereal with the milk and cereal spilling all over the table and floor.

“Junior!” yelled Tyrone. “What the hell are you doin’?” Tyrone grabbed a towel and threw it on the ground. “Clean it up!”

“But dad...,”

“Son!”

Junior sadly hopped off the chair and began scrubbing the floor with the towel. After a few more scrubs he washed it out and continued with the table.

“Yo T,” said Rivs, “that ain’t the way to clean the floor and table.”

“Shieet mayne. Dis is what my dad did to me when I spilled something on the floor.”

“I think he was just trying to punish you real good,” said Sticky, laughing again.

“Yeah, you’re probably right.”

After Junior finished with his mess, he ran off to the other room to play Greg the game console. Tyrone, Sticky, and Rivs, all went into the den to watch some basketball game highlights back in their country.

“You guys still play on the Crusaders right?” asked Tyrone. “With Clyde?”

“Yeah, but we’re in the middle of a lockout season right now,” said Rivs still watching the highlight reel. “I don’t know when we’ll play again.”

“We only signed the basic one year contract though,” said Sticky, “I know we might play more in the future, but I don’t know if Clyde will.”

“Why is that? He thinks he ain’t good enough?”

Sticky laughed. “No, he’s undoubtedly the best on the team, he even got his name for Rookie of the Year thrown around last year.”

Tyrone smirked. “I taught him all I knew. Why does he want to quit then? He could make it big with those sweet contracts worth millions.”

“Road games,” answered Rivs and Sticky simultaneously.

“He can’t handle the pressure?”

“Nooo. You know how in basketball, some teams go on a road trip with like five-plus away games before their next home game?” Sticky turned towards Tyrone.

“Yeah.”

“Well, sometimes some of those trips can last two weeks.”

“Does he have a pet or something he has to take care of?”

“No!” yelled Rivs, “he doesn’t like leaving his girlfriend! Did you not pay attention to his shoulder sleeve?”

“Brah, I’ve been jail for a year almost. I don’t know any shit about what you guys do.” Tyrone got up and stretched. “Where the hell is the others?”

“Shit dude calm down,” said Cannon rubbing his eye. Behind him were Spike, Wahlburn and Patel.

“We going back to Amsterdam today boys?” asked Wahlburn. “I’m ready for a round two.”

“Calm yourself,” said Patel. “I think we should stay here for today, I mean, this party in this place is what, two days away?”

“Yeah, that sounds cool,” said Tyrone. “I’m definitely going to the city tomorrow so one of y’all is going to need to watch Junior.”

“Have Clyde do it or something,” said Cannon. “He probably won’t go back anyway.”

“Where is he? Sleeping?” asked Tyrone.

“Yeah he is,” said Patel. “His door is still closed.”

“Aight, I got him.” Tyrone walked by them back into the hallway. He passed Jeb, who waved at him, but he ignored him. At Clyde’s door he knocked then shoved it open. Clyde was still passed out under his covers. “Yo dawg, wake your ass up.”

Clyde slowly opened his eyes and looked around. “T? What time is it?”

“It’s around noon, but it’s actually ‘wake your ass up’ time.” Tyrone pushed him out of his bed.

“What the hell man? I’m trying to get rest. I didn’t go to sleep until four last night.”

“That ain’t my problem man.” Tyrone walked back out into the hallway and looked back. “We about to do something, hurry your ass up.”

“Fine.”

Tyrone went back to the den to the others. Everyone else, including Poncho and Fluffy who woke up during Tyrone’s absence, was sitting around in the fireplace and watching some fútbol game. Fluffy and Patel were getting into it, while the others looked bored. After a few minutes, Clyde strided out of the hallway and into the den.

“Dawg,” said Tyrone, beckoning to him. “Come hang out wit your boys.”

Clyde walked over to the empty spot on one of the couches and sat down beside Jeb. He quickly yawned. “So, what are we doing today?”

“Good question,” said Patel. “Anyone have any ideas?” Wahlburn slowly raised his hoof and Patel glared at him as he lowered it back down. “Something that doesn’t involve weed?”

“Well,” said Cannon, who then chuckled, “we could get ‘turnt up’ with all that alcohol in the basement.”

“How do you know about that?” asked Fluffy.

“Oh, I was exploring this cottage just for the hell of it last night, when I went into the basement and saw a wall filled with bottles of wine, rum, whiskey, and beer.”

“It’s probably for that party so we aren’t doing that,” said Patel.

“Fine!” Cannon got up and walked into the kitchen.

“How ‘bout we play some card games or some shit?” asked Tyrone.

“Like blackjack or poker?” asked Poncho.

“Nah dawg, that’s pussy shit. We’re playing Extreme Go Fish.” Tyrone looked at everybody dead in the eyes.

“Go Fish?” asked Wahlburn. “You’re fucking joking me right?”

“Does it look like I’m joking? I am for real.”

“Go Fish is a game for foals.”

“That’s why we are playing Extreme Go Fish dawg.”

“Alright, so how does one play Extreme Go Fish?” asked Patel.

“Aight, so the dealer hands two cards to each individual and then we start asking for cards, if you cannot give a card to the player that asked, the player that asked must draw a card. Three of a kind is a match which you place down, and the first to run out of cards wins.”

Patel stared at him blankly. “So, it’s the same god damn thing as regular Go Fish, except we start with only two cards instead of the normal five or seven?”

“Yeah mayne.”

“That’s fucking stupid.”

“We playin’ or not?”

“Yeah, I’ll play.”
Tyrone and the others pulled the den table and the couches to the middle of the room and began dealing out the cards. “Hey yo, Cannon, you playin’?”

Cannon stuck his head over the kitchen counter, “Yeah, give me a few.” Tyrone took two cards from the deck and put them beside him for Cannon. He glanced at the other multiple two card piles he made.

“We have eleven homies playin’ some Extreme Go Fish right now.”

“Sweet,” said Cannon sitting down beside Tyrone, “who’s starting this?”

“I’ll start” said Spike, who was to Tyrone’s left, “Yo Wahlburn my man, you have any deuces?”

“Nah brother, Go-the-fuck-Fish.” Spike sighed and drew a card.

“Alright time to win on the first turn,” said Patel, who was next in line. “Jeb, you have any threes?”
Jeb looked at his two cards. “Nope.”

“Fuck,” said Patel, drawing a card. He looked over to his left at Clyde who was staring at him. “What do you want?”

“Hey Patel,” said Clyde, “you got any threes?”

“Aw fuck you,” said Patel handing over his card. Clyde smirked as he saw it.

“Isn’t it weird that I win by getting my favorite card?” He laid down his two threes and also his newly acquired three of diamonds. “I win.”

“Aw what the hell!” yelled the others as they threw their cards down in rage.

“Can’t hate on the three of diamonds,” said Clyde.

“Fuck off you bias bastard,” said Patel.

“Bias? What are you talking about?”

“I know exactly what you’re trying to say, and I don’t like. You know you’re the most bias one of all of us.”
Clyde shook his head. “I don’t think so, Sticky or Rivs could have me beat.”

“It’s true,” said Sticky, “We both wear on favorite university colors everyday.”

“See?” said Clyde, crossing his arms.

“You’re still bias as fuck,” said Patel. “Don’t even say you aren’t.”

“Okay, prove me wrong then.”

“Alright,” said Patel. He looked around pondering a question to ask him. He looked at the others, who stared at him back waiting for his question, and pondered some more. He looked at Clyde this time and it struck him. “Got it.”

“I’m ready,” said Clyde.

“Alright ‘not bias’ Clyde, what is your opinion on the small town of Ponyville?” Patel leaned back to wait his answer, while the others shot their looks towards Clyde.

“I think it’s a rather nice, relaxing town. I mean, you can pretty much find something to do there.”

“Is that so? I have another question for you,” said Patel.

“Yeah?”

“What is your opinion on the small town of Ponyville without Rarity? Like, she never lived there or existed.”

Clyde looked at him with a serious gaze. “I think it’s a pretty boring and lame town.”

“Ha!” yelled Patel. “There it is! That was a bias remark!”

Clyde laughed. “That wasn’t being bias at all! If she wasn’t a part of that town, that’s a damn fact that town would be boring.”

“AF?” asked Cannon.

“What?” asked Clyde. “What does that mean?”

“As fuck,” answered Cannon.

“Oh. Yeah, AF.”

“Alright whatever ‘not bias’ guy.” Patel stretched and looked up at the fútbol game that was still on. “What are we doing now?”

“Super Extreme Go Fish?” suggested Tyrone.

“Is that with one card?” asked Jeb.

“Yeah dude.”

“Count me in,” said Jeb. Tyrone asked the others if they wanted to play, which most of them decided to anyway. As he was dealing out the cards, Junior ran up to him.

“Dad!” yelled Junior in his face. Tyrone pushed him aside.

“Son, what do you want! We are trying to play some Super Extreme Go Fish!”

“Dad! Greg won’t let me play the dancing game!”

Tyrone looked at him with confusion. “What do you mean? We were playin’ it last night fine.”

“He won’t pick up my body outline or something.”

“Is there good lighting?”

“Yeah! I even have extra candles and flashlights but those don’t work either.” Junior frowned and sat down beside him.

Tyrone put his arm around Junior and sighed. “It’s because you’re black son.” Junior frowned harder then ran off back to play Greg the game console.

Soon a doorbell rang throughout the cottage. They all looked at the doors behind them. Soon, Bastiaan ran out of the hallway and opened up the doors.

“My friends!” he said as he waved them in. As the two stallions walked in, Cannon gave a gasp and pointed.

“No way! It’s the gay pirate and the freaky puppet dude!”

“I’m not that freaky,” said Clark, “well I might be in bed, but that’s my little secret.” Yarlin chuckled while the others yelled in disgust.

“Friends of Fluffy and Fluffy, these two will be staying here until my party in two days is over,” said Bastiaan. “Make them part of your game you are doing or something, I have to keep ordering my supplies. Bastiaan trotted off back into the hallway while Yarlin and Clark stood there in silence.

“So, you guys wanna play some Super Extreme Go Fish?” asked Tyrone.

“I would be delighted lad!” yelled Yarlin, who quickly ran up to the table. “Clark, get over here you scurvy sea dog!”

“Ooohoo,” replied Clark, “I’m coming!” He sat down beside Yarlin and looked at the others. “How have you guys been doing?”

“Fine, I guess,” said Cannon. Cannon noticed a small name tag on Clark’s coat. After a closer look, without getting too close, Cannon figured out his last name. “McIovin? Is that a ‘l’ as in ‘idiot’ or an ‘I’ as in ‘lick’?”

“It’s an ‘I’, as in ‘I just love puppets and boys so much’.” Clark giggled.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” asked Wahlburn. “Why do you have to be a flamboyantly gay dude who enjoys puppets? You just surpassed Poncho on the ‘Sketchy Scale’.”

“Hey!” yelled Poncho, “I’m not that sketchy!”

“Yes, you are,” said Jeb.

“Look,” said Clark, “I don’t like judging others and you shouldn’t either. Everyone on this world is different and that’s what makes it fun. Especially for me and little boys.”

Wahlburn jumped off the couch. “Nope. I can’t do this. I’m going back to my room to smoke some weed.”

“Wait, take me with you!” yelled Spike. He jumped onto his back and Wahlburn ran off back to the hallway.

For the next few hours, the remainder of the group talked to Yarlin and Clark about the past while playing random card games Tyrone came up with. Clark told them of his life changing story when he found some puppets when he was just a small colt. Throughout the weird tale, the others tried not to get completely creeped out.

“So you’re saying you use your puppets to fondle young colts?” asked Cannon amazed.

“Yeah, I know it’s sort of weird...” Clark turned red and frowned.

“Yeah, well, make sure you tell me where you live so I will never have to worry about you in my town.” Cannon got up and returned to the kitchen to find food.

“Same,” said Fluffy, dragging out the word. “What tiempo is it anyway?”

“It’s already seven,” said Patel. He then realized the time and acted surprised. “Holy shit, we literally dicked off the whole day.”

“I’m about to dick off the whole night too, if you know what I mean,” said Clark, giggling towards Yarlin.

“You sly lad!” replied Yarlin. “I’ll give you somethin’ you’ll never forget.” They continued giggling until Tyrone got up.

“Yo dawgs, cut that shit out, I’m getting freaked out.”

“Sorry matey, we’ll try to contain ourselves next time,” apologized Yarlin.

“It’s aight dawg.” Tyrone walked into the kitchen and yelled back out to the den, “which one of yous are hungry like me?”

“I could go for some food,” said Poncho getting up.

“Of course you could,” said Jeb.

“What’s that suppose to mean?” asked Poncho viciously. “You making a joke towards me, you asshole?”

“Nothing,” said Jeb with a smirk. Jeb left for the kitchen with Poncho following him closely, trying to make Jeb repeat his comment.

Before any of the others could also journey to the kitchen, the doorbell rang again. Within five seconds, Bastiaan slid out of the hallway and halted at the doors. Once the door was open, the group at the den could see a delivery dude with a stack of pizza boxes. Bastiaan took them then slammed the door shut.

“Friends! I ordered pizza!” he quickly placed the stack of boxes on the kitchen counter and sorted the different kinds out. After content with the assorted boxes, he reached up in one of his cabinets and pulled out some fancy gold-trimmed plates. “My party is almost fully planned, just need a few more ‘supplies’ and I’ll be good to go.”

“What are these supplies? Some sort of secret weed or something?” asked Wahlburn, who just seemed to appear out of nowhere. Spike was on his back passed out.

“Yes!” replied Bastiaan, “there’s been a rumor that someone here in Amsterdam found this secret type of bud that if you even smell it, it makes you instantly high.”

Wahlburn’s face gleamed. “Brother, you better save some of that for me.”

“Don’t worry friend! There should be plenty for my party and then some!”

“Awesome.”

After everyone ate they all returned to the den and slouched down on the couches. They all had at least six or seven slices, except for Poncho who had twelve. Yarlin and Clark left after eating to go to their room. After watching some boring fútbol game in silence, Tyrone turned it off. “Fuck this shitty sport.”

“Hey man, what the fuck,” said Patel. “I was watching that!”

“Same!” yelled Fluffy.

“Who cares about that shit dawgs, why don’t you watch a cool sport like basketball?”

Patel rolled his eyes. “Basketball is lame. It’s filled with a bunch of-,”

“Don’t you say that word man!” retorted Tyrone, who interrupted him. “I’m cool with you dudes so you can say it sometimes, but I won’t allow you to use it with that attitude.”

“Okay, but it’s still a shitty sport.” Patel looked at Fluffy, who nodded his head in agreement.

“Sticky, Rivs, Clyde, dawgs. You stand with me on this right?” Tyrone looked over at them in desperation.

“Of course,” said Sticky, “basketball is hype.”

“It really does get you pumped up,” said Rivs reminiscing about some game winning shots he made in his life.

Tyrone glanced over at Clyde. “What about you man? You even have a damn basketball on your ass.”

Clyde looked over at the dead television screen. “You know my stand, but since I’m apparently bias, my opinion doesn’t matter.”

“He’s right,” said Patel. “ Wait, why are we even doing this?”

Tyrone looked at him with the same confusion. “I don’t know dawg.”

“Group hug?” asked Fluffy. Tyrone and Patel looked at each other first and shrugged. All three of them embraced for a few seconds then stepped away from each other. Cannon began a slow clap. Soon, the whole room was clapping for the hug.

“You guys are the best,” said Tyrone, wiping away a tear. “I missed you guys. Other than lifting, jail has been a terrible time for a baller like me.”

“We miss you too T,” said Clyde, wrapping his arm around him. “You know, we haven’t balled together for almost two years now.”

Tyrone grinned. “You tryna hit the hoops with me tomorrow? I bet we could have some fun.”

“Don’t you want to go to the city tomorrow?”

“Nah, fuck that place mayne.”

“We’ll play you two tomorrow,” said Rivs, including Sticky into his comment. “2 on 2 sounds real good.”

“You’re on.” Tyrone grasped Rivs’ hoof to accept the challenge. All four of them nodded and sat back down in empty seats like nothing occurred.

“Well, that was cute,” said Cannon sarcastically, “what are we going to do tonight now?” They all sat there thinking of what to do. Wahlburn kept suggesting weed, but his idea was always shot down. Cannon’s alcohol suggestion was also declined every time.

“What about ‘Truth or Dare’?” suggested Jeb.

The others glared at him. Cannon began laughing. “You mean that game where teenage girls go around a circle a say pointless shit or dare another one to do something stupid. Get the fuck out of here.” He began chugging a bottle of water.

Jeb crossed his arms. “I guess you can’t handle it then...”

Cannon stopped his drinking and looked over at him again. “What did you just say? Fine, dare me then.”

“Alright, Cannon, I dare you to stop drinking alcohol for the remainder of this trip.” The room was filled with ‘oohs’.

“Ah fuck that. I need to get hammered at this party.” Cannon began drinking his water again.

Sticky smiled. “Pussy no balls.”

Cannon coughed up his water and threw the empty bottle on the ground. “Fuck you say? Fine, I’ll do it.”

“Alright, if anyone catches you drinking any alcoholic beverage, you own him money,” said Jeb

“How much we talking?” said Cannon, sadly.

“1000 bits.”

“3,500 dollars! What the fuck you think I’m made out of?”

“Says the basketball player making 100k bits a year,” said Jeb. “The PH doesn’t even give half of that.”

Cannon slumped down on the couch. “Well, no more drinking for me for another few days. Who’s next?”

“I don’t know,” said Jeb. “My guess is that it’s your turn to ask someone.”

“Cool.” He glanced around the room, looking for his prey. “My dude Wahlburn....”

“Brother.”

“Truth or Dare broman.”

Wahlburn stroked his chin. “Truth.”

“You actually don’t like weed, you only do it because someone at our school got you into it because of peer pressure and all you wanted to do is fit in with that crowd?” The room’s eyes shifted towards Wahlburn for his response.

Wahlburn gulped. “You got me, it’s true.” He frowned and shook his head.

“Really?” asked Spike. He didn’t want to believe his new best friend was a phoney.

“Nah, I’m just fucking with you. I fucking love this shit.” Spike cheered while the others sighed. “Sticky, Truth or Dare?”

“Dare,” said Sticky, “I ain’t got no worries.”

“I dare you and Rivs to switch clothes for the rest of the month.” Sticky and Rivs’ jaws dropped while the room was filled with ‘oh shit!’

“But that means, I would have to wear....”

“Yep,” said Wahlburn. “I could give two fucks about your favorite universities, but I do know you both hate each other’s with a burning passion, and that you wear those damn colors every damn day.”

“How long?” asked Rivs.

“Until the end of the basketball season.”

“That’s in freaking April!” yelled Sticky.

“Unless you want to give me 1000 bits each for drug money, you better get ready.”

Sticky and Rivs looked at each other and nodded simultaneously. “Fuck that, we’ll give you money.” Wahlburn smiled.

“Poncho!” yelled Sticky. Poncho jumped and started to look around nervously.

“W-What?” he replied. He kept shifting his eyes around the room.

“You haven’t really said that much today, so I got to ask, Truth or Dare?”

“Uh...Truth?”

“No, don’t be a little bitch.”

“B-But...”

“I dare you to get a blumpkin before the end of this trip.”

Poncho coughed and began to spaz out. “W-What?”

“You heard me.” Sticky looked him dead in the windows of his soul. The rest of them started laughing at Poncho’s reactions. Poncho was zipping his hoodie up and down. “Since you’re not answering me Poncho, I deca dog dare you.”

The room all went crazy, like the bench of a basketball team after a incredible dunk just happened, at the mention of the deca dog dare. Poncho now was zipping his hoodie up and down at such a rapid rate, they all thought his hoodie would catch ablaze.

“Damn!” yelled Tyrone. “That’s the greatest of all dares!”

“I know,” said Sticky smiling, “what do you say Poncho?”

After he stopped with his hoodie shenanigans, Poncho looked up at him. “W-What do I have to do?”

“Easy, just get a blumpkin before we reach back down in Canterlot. You can get one tomorrow, maybe at this party, hell, even on the airplane if you really wanted too.”

“O-On an airplane?!” Poncho began to stutter. “D-Do you know how unsanitary that has to be?”

“Then get one at the party,” said Sticky. “Lots of ponies are going to be here.”

“Y-Yeah but...”

“Nope, you have to do it. Like, I’m not even joking, by the law of the deca dog, you have to do it.” Sticky and most of the others began snickering.

Poncho frowned and began to look down at the floor. The others kept trying to talk to him, but he refused to speak to anyone. The rest stopped their Truth or Dare game and resumed watching another fútbol game. After thirty minutes, one by one, they decided it was time to retire for the night. Poncho still sat there in silence as his friends exited the den one after another. The crew did their nightly routine before falling asleep, and except a few residents, the cottage stayed quiet all night.