• Published 14th Mar 2014
  • 785 Views, 48 Comments

Pinkie Steals a Bugatti - redoran77

1200 HorsePower at 255 mph all controlled by Pinkie. What could possibly go wrong?

  • ...


Pinkie stared at the boy, not comprehending at first what he was saying. He smirked a little at her dumb look, and then continued on.

"It sounds to me like you've never lifted a supercar", he said smugly taking control of the situation. "bit off more than you can chew eh?" the kid sounded like a real asshat. "I, on the other hand, have plenty of experience with uber-c-" Pinkie slugged him again, cutting off his smug look. She sat on top of him as she had before as she drew her knife. She stabbed it into the wooden seat, millimeters away from his manhood.

"Wanna keep being a jackass?", Pinkie's voice dripped with inhumanity, and her hair looked a bit odd, different then it had before.
The boy reeled back again at the hit, a bruise starting on the spot where he had be struck twice now.

"Shit, ease up psycho!", the boy said wincing in pain again. Pinkie took unneeded offense to this, and pulled the knife out of the chair violently, bringing it up to his face. She pushed the edge of the blade against his cheek, pulling it down slowly but forcefully, leaving a bleeding razor line in its wake. The boy trembled visibly and yanked his face away from the blade, causing a deeper gash near the bottom.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! Please, I'm sorry! No! Seriously! Please! Stop! I'm sorry!", the boy ranted incoherently at the site of his own blood dripping onto the floor beneath his face. He began to sob, his tears mixing with the small amount of blood that was landing on the floor. "I'm sorry! Don't kill me! Please! I'm sorry! Don't kill me!", he was panicking and trying to move out of Pinkie's grasp but was unsuccessful.

"Shut it!", Pinkie yelled at him as she got up and walked to the doorway. Although she was being fairly serious, she was also putting on a show. She was using violence to leverage him, so that his only option was to help her, without payment. The boy stopped screaming but still choked on tears occasionally. He was a pathetic mess on the floor, and it looked like he was ready to grovel.

Pinkie got up, flicking the blood on the knife onto the opposite wall. She wiped the rest on her pants and sheathed her knife theatrically, adding to her torturous appearance. She turned around to him and put her hands on her hips.

"You're not worth my time. I'll be taking you out back once I figure out what the hell to do with this car. Ever ate a .44 magnum shot before? I hear they taste great once you get over the massive hole in the back of your head!", she said the last part in a sadistic, happy way, and her now straight hair gave her the look of a serial killer. The boy's eyes widened and his mouth fell open, some of the dripping blood dribbling in.

"NO! No! Please! Celestia NO! I can help! I promise! Please! There's a guy in Manehatten! He'll take the car! Please just let me go! I'll even take you to him!"

right where I want him she thought. Pinkie smiled as she turned away from the boy, thanking Celestia there was a way out of this. She put on a rather insane face and turned back to him. She considered for a moment that he might be lying, and started weighing the option of executing him seriously.

"I don't believe you!", she yelled as she backed out of the room.

"NO! NO!! SERIOUSLY!! PLEASE!! I DON'T WANT TO DIE! I'M ONLY 16!!!", he began to sob again as she walked off to a room on the other side of the shop. She found Chop Shop sitting in a chair cleaning a Glock 30 as she entered. He looked up in acknowledgement and she headed for the gun cabinet that sat in a cage in the back of the room. She looked around it, taking time to pick the perfect weapon for an execution. She needed a handgun, so the AR-15 platform guns were out of the question. There was a small rack dedicated to small arms, so she walked to it and examined the choices.

Desert Eagle, .357 magnum revolver, .38, 9mm P89, .44 magnum revolver....

She considered the .44 for a moment, it was pretty big, had some shiny chrome on it, and would most likely scare the piss out of the kid.

no....I can do better than that

She continued to rummage through the guns, holding some up and looking down the sight as she did. Meanwhile she could hear the boy in the other room begging for his life. The thought crossed her mind to actually kill him, and lingered for a while as she continued to inspect the guns. She had no reason to trust him, and this 'guy' of his sounded too good to be true.

Glock 21, Glock 30, AHA! Here we go!

Pinkie walked back into the room holding an insane handgun, a 60 caliber revolver that had been chromed and the handle replaced with an ABS black plastic pistol grip. It looked just like it's 50 caliber cousin, only a hell of a lot bigger. The boy's eyes grew wide at the massive gun, which Pinkie held loosely at her side.

"NONONONOPLEASENONONOSTOPNONO!", the kid vomited on the floor in front of her as his nerves got the best of him. Pinkie drew her knife with her free hand and knelt down beside him.

"Now, I'm going to cut you from the chair. This gun will kill you even if it doesn't hit you. I get a shot close enough, it will tear off your arm.", she began to cut the duct tape around his legs and then his arms. He sobbed and pleaded with her, not daring to move. She zip tied his arms behind his back tightly enough to cause cuts on his wrists if he moved them at all. She sheathed her knife and yanked the kid up by the zip ties behind him, pushing the barrel of the gun against his head.

"Please!Please!I'mbeggingyou!I'monlyakid!Please!I'lldoanything!", his please seemingly fell on deaf ears as she drug him violently to the back door, kicking it open and shoving him out. He fell flat on his face and immediately turned over to face his attacker.

"Pleasedondothis!Please...", his cries were turning into hoarse whispers as he looked at her, her crazy eyes burning into his soul.

"On your knees!", Pinkie yelled at him, but he was too upset to respond. She slugged him again and grabbed the collar of his shirt, sitting him on his knees.

"Turn around!", she said as she backed off, raising the revolver. He sniffed and started to turn around on his knees slowly, trying to savor the last moments of his life.

"PLEASE!!!LET ME HELP YOU!!! I'LL DO ANYTHING!!!Anything!!!anything....", he trailed off as he lowered his head in a sob.

"Sit up straight, cunt!", Pinkie said violently. He obeyed, finally accepting his fate. Pinkie smiled.

Killing him might actually be fun.

A shot sounded from the gun, resonating like cannon fire off of the surrounding abandoned structures. The kid fell over from the shockwave of the bullet that traveled nearly nine feet off to his right, creating a massive six inch wide and three inch deep crater in the asphalt.

He was stunned and couldn't hear at all out of his right ear, and he felt something warm trickle down from said ear onto his face. His entire existence was ringing, vibrating with the compression of the air around him. Suddenly, a pink haired girl appeared in front of him, and he saw her mouth move. He sat stunned, unable to perceive anything as the girl roughly drug him back inside.

Pinkie flung the boy against the opposite wall of the hallway leading to the back door, and knelt down in front of him.

"Hey!", she patted him on the face a few times as his head rolled back and forth. "HEY!", she yelled at him as her patience wore thin. His senses began to return to him and he tried to focus his eyes on her.

"wh....what?", he said softly, as if he had just woken up and was hung over badly.

"Tell me about this 'guy in Manehatten'"