Fortune

by OConnerGT-R

Forty Thousand and One Reasons to Race

Chapter Three: Forty Thousand and One Reasons to Race

My hoof gently stroked Buttercup’s mane as my story came to a close. Her eyes had closed long before the story had finished, I was sure she had fallen asleep after the first five minutes, but I couldn’t bring myself to end the story. It was one of my personal favorite memories that brought a smile to my face when I told it.

The only downside to it was that not to long after I had been accepted into Peach Tree’s household, she died from a delayed reaction to the poison. The medication given to her wasn’t strong enough to stop her lung from clotting up. It had been one tragic afternoon when I came home to find Buttercup trying to wake her seemingly passed out mother on the floor.

I took over as her caretaker from then on out. Honestly, I never expected to bond with Buttercup as much as I had over the next few years, but I could say one thing with a smile on my face. “Being your sister, even if it isn’t by blood, was the best thing to ever happen to me,” I whispered to the sleeping filly. My eyes drifted from her to the night sky out her window. “I’ll be back soon, love you, Buttercup.” I gave her a soft hug along with a kiss to her head before quietly trotting off to make my last hope to earn enough bits to keep her with me.

*** ***

The cool air was crisp enough to be broken off like an icicle from my skis. Tightening the strings to my hoodie, I turned my attention away from an engine exploding like a fireworks display in the distance and back to my car which looked as if it was being held together by small threads. Those threads happened to be duct tape and a few bits of chewing gum that were somehow holding the hood of my car together each round.

A long sigh escaped me as my breath rose up like steam from a cup of coffee. I carefully closed the hood down, making sure the tape and gum were still holding. My brain reminded me how lucky I was to have gone first this round, as well as being extra fortunate to have gotten a pony tied to a stone; or in other words, someone not fast, as my opponent. “That should do it,” I muttered to myself.

One of the contestants, the one with the exploding engine, rolled by with his window rolled down. Curse words that would make me put my hooves over Buttercup’s ears filled the air, making me chuckle. By the looks of it he had won the race, but like me at one point, sprayed too much nitrous into the engine, causing it to firework itself to the finish line. Normally I wouldn’t judge a pony on how they won a race so long as it was earned, but in a contest like this where a pony could race four or even five times in a weekend with the same car, meant that blowing the engine every pass could result in that driver taking themselves out, which is a poor strategy to use with forty thousand bits on the line. Especially when that option had a high chance to fry every piston.

While I preferred to earn my victories, I wasn’t going to complain about drawing Fast Lane’s name in the coming round, seeing as I wouldn’t need to use my nitrous to beat him with what he was running with now. A mare with a pink puffy mane and coat as white as a bleached lab coat walked by, “Calling it now, he’s out of the race!” She shot me a glance, but before she could get in my face about last Payout, I took a look at the video from the last race.

Before the video ended, I placed a bet on the next race, my bits being on the white Pontiac GTO Judge that was driven by Runner Up. Rumor had it that every Payout event Runner Up had entered, he’d gone all the way to the finals every time. I couldn’t say how many times he’s been beat, but I always put my bits on him if he’s racing.

I shoved my way through the crowd just in time to see Morning Mist, our flagger and race master, flashing her horn to signal the drivers to start. With my eyes glued to the GTO, I smiled at the sight of it taking off as if it were set up perfectly. Its wheels hooked almost instantly while leaving the pony in the right lane behind by a car length the entire race. “That’s how it’s done!” I shouted out to the stallion that owed me bits. He slapped a sack of bits into my hoof which I hid inside my hoodie.

“Tell you what,” I said with a sly grin, “If Runner Up goes up against me, double or nothing. If he goes up against Silver Shoe, triple.” We locked gazes for a moment. I extended my hoof, and although it took a moment, along with what looked like a lot of will power, the stallion agreed to it.

“Adrenaline junkie,” Morning Mist called out. “Come on drivers, meeting now!”

Now that I was locked in for a bet, I trotted off to the meeting and stood next to Runner Up, who usually served to keep Silver Shoe off other racer’s asses when she got too competitive. There was a noticeable spot open where a fourth driver should have been. “So,” Morning Mist started to say as she walked past us, “I’m sure you have all noticed that Fast Lane is not here with us. Unfortunately for him, he fried his pistons in that last run.”

Morning faced us, dropping a brown sack in front of her. “Great news for you three, since that means one of you will get a free pass right into the finals. The only question that remains, is which two of you are going head to head.” With the excitement building up in this tournament, one thing was clear, no matter which match up was next, it was guaranteed to be a good race. Word on the street was that ponies were calling a rematch between me and Runner Up the race of the year.

On the other hoof, if Silver Shoe and I went up against each other, it would be a revenge race for metaphorically blowing her doors off last year. “I want to race you,” Silver Shoe said with her gaze locked on me, I shot her a smile. “If it hadn’t been for that oil covered lane, I would have beat you.”

“Oh and I suppose you’re going to say someone tied a boat anchor to your car too?” I retorted with a smug grin.

“Hey,” she said jokingly and with a defensive hoof up, “Whoever tied that anchor to my car had it out for me.”

The crowd laughed at that. Out of all the excuses a pony threw out after they lost, Silver Shoe claiming someone tied a boat anchor to her car was one of the best. Morning Mist’s chuckle brought us all back to the meeting. “Alright,” she said levitating the bag up. “Runner Up, why don’t you come up here and draw?”

“I’m not drawing,” he stated flatly.

I felt a tap on my shoulder, which brought about the question as to when Silver Shoe got so close. “Why don’t you reach on in there, Miss Junkie?” My eyes darted between the other two drivers.

“What is this? Some kind of mind game?” I asked, taking a cautious step forward. Both Silver Shoe and I looked at Runner, who just shrugged.

“It doesn’t matter who I get,” he said nonchalantly. “Either way it goes down, I’m giving you both a good race.”

Rolling my eyes at his decision to let me pick, I trotted over to the sack and put a hoof in. Paper brushed up against my hoof as I felt the three scraps that would determine who was going to meet up in the coming race. “While you’re at it,” Morning Mist said with a grin, “Once you pick Runner’s number, how about you pick yours?”

I pulled out a piece of paper and flashed it to Morning. She wrote it down on her clipboard, then let me reach another hoof inside the bag. Once again, scraps of paper brushed up against my hoof. I yanked one out, then took a look at what was written on it.

A smile grew on my face as I tossed the paper on the ground and stood next to the crowd. “Have fun you two. Runner, win this for me, I need the bits.” I gave him a wink and let my smug smile piss off Silver Shoe. I would be lying if I said that last taunt wasn’t for her.

Morning Mist neighed to get our attention. “Sky, we’ll see you in the finals. Runner, Silver, you both get your asses ready to go down this road. Once one of you pulls to the line, the other driver has five minutes to get up here or they’re disqualified.” Once they were both set with their burnout juice, they trotted off to their vehicles to prep for a race I was dying to see.

Runner Up tossed the bottle to me, so I followed him to his car. Our conversation was quiet, which I assumed was because he was psyching himself up. “Don’t sleep on the light, don’t sleep on the light,” he mumbled to himself. A long exhale came from him a moment later. “Alright, Sky High, do me a favor and help me get the burnout juice under my tires, without Silver Shoe helping me, I need an extra pony.”

“Sure thing.” I slid the bottle in my hoodie pocket. As I approached his car, I took a look at the open laptop with all the information on his car. A peak like this into someone else’s car was gold for winning, but since it was mostly about his twin turbos, which I knew nothing about, it didn’t help at all.

I scooted off to the side, letting Runner take his spot in front of the laptop. “Spying on the enemy, Sky? That’s not a very good way to win a contest.” He stuck his tongue out at me playfully, making me laugh.

“Shut up, you asked for my help, besides I don’t understand twin turbo data anyway,” I said, trying not to laugh too hard. “So how much of this do you need on the road?”

“Just a little.” He hit enter on the laptop once it assured him everything was good. Climbing inside the car, Runner rolled down the window using his hoof to motion where he was going afterwards. “Pour about a quarter of the bottle on both tires.”

Three drawn out honks had me jerk my head up to find Silver Shoe’s Chevy Vega had already pulled to the line. Smoke slowly rose up, signifying that she had already finished her burnout in the right lane. “Get your ass up here!” Morning shouted to Runner while he checked some wiring that hadn’t been concealed properly.

I knocked on the side of the car, earning a hoof in the air that told me to give him a minute. His hooves shoved the wires back where they were supposed to go, then closed the compartment they came from to keep them from falling out. “You stallions can’t seem to keep your hooves from jacking with everything,” I said jokingly as he shot me a smile. I pushed myself away from the car and followed it as he drove towards the line.

“Damn, this a good matchup and it’s not even the finals!” One of the stallions in the crowd shouted out.

Putting myself between the starting line and the car, I held my hoof up, slowly moving it around in a circular motion to get Runner to pull up closer. His front bumper lined up perfectly with the spray-painted line when I held my hoof straight out, signaling him to stop. Trotting up to one of the rear tires, I sprayed some of the burnout juice, or “pimp-juice” as some called it, along the concrete in front of the tire. I did the same on the other side.

Once I gave him the okay, Runner did a small burnout, leaving smoke trailing behind him as his vehicle lurched forward. With a new coating of rubber down in the left lane, Runner backed up to the line, making sure I oriented him so that he could focus on getting from point A to point B as fast as possible.

I joined the crowd a moment later, making sure to stay close to the stallion I made the bet with. My eyes became glued to Morning Mist as she stepped out in front of the drivers as they revved their engines together. It was brief, but I caught a glimpse of Runner and Silver taking a quick glance at one another just as Morning got ready to trot backwards. As she ran back, Morning stopped and flashed her horn bright purple.

The wheels attached to the GTO spun slightly, but caught traction a moment later as if it were running across a soda-covered table top. It pulled forward, as fast as every other launch it had done tonight, and continued to accelerate without any complications.

In the other lane, the Chevy Vega launched just as hard, catching enough grip against the road that it could have pulled a ten-year-old piece of gum off the road surface. Somehow, by a bumper length, the Vega pulled ahead enough for a few ponies in the crowd to run out after the cars, cheering their favorite on. Flames came spewing out from the exhaust pipes for a brief moment, then died down just before the second wave of flames came exploding out after the second kit of nitrous was sprayed.

At the halfway mark, Runner Up’s GTO caught back up without any sign of it slowing down. A couple more pony-lengths went by when Silver Shoe’s third kit came on. However, it wasn’t enough. The twin-turbo GTO seemed to keep with it by the time they reached the last portion of the quarter mile.

Being so far out from us, I couldn’t tell who crossed the finish line first. From my perspective, they crossed at the exact same time, which is the reason we have someone down at the end with a camera ready to make that call. Morning Mist hit a button on her headset, “What’ve you got down there?”

She nodded her head then looked at all of us. “Runner Up, by a fender!”

I took my winnings from the stallion, cheering for the GTO as the driver started driving back. As I walked away from him, I could have sworn I heard a few curse words that would have made Buttercup’s face turn bright red. “Pleasure doing business with you!” I called back to him.

My hooves motioned for the crowd to move aside while I shouted out that a car was approaching. Just as the crowd formed an empty lane, Runner Up pulled through, trying to honk his horn to the song playing on the stereo next to me. He came to a right beside me. “Hey!” he called out with the window rolled down, “I’ll take the left lane like last time, if you’re okay with it.”

I gave him a hoof bump. “Sure thing,” I said, giving his car a pat on the hood before it drove off to turn around. My hoof rested on the top of my Holden while I shook off the anxiousness that was forming in my stomach like a knot. A long exhale slowly brought the fire back to my stomach while I slid inside my car.

Tracing the steering wheel slowly with my hooves, I counted to five before sighing once more. I kept psyching myself up as much as I could, doing my best not to think about the stakes I had riding on my back. With my hoof firmly planted on the gear shifter, I began pulling up to the line, but found Runner Up motioning for me to roll my window down.

With my window rolled down, I leaned my head out to hear him better. “Sky,” he said, nudging his head at the finish line, “Win or lose, I’ll buy you a shake afterwards. Deal?”

“It better have some hard cider mixed in with it,” I retorted with a smile.

“Damn, you have expensive tastes.” His window rolled back up as he laughed.

Silver Shoe called out to Runner, “Fuck this bitch up!”

Morning Mist trotted out in front of our vehicles, facing us with her mane obscuring one of her eyes. Her hoof brushed her mane away as she slowly pulled Runner Up and his GTO to the line. A moment later, she held her hoof out, keeping him from advancing any further.

She looked at me, then motioned for me to pull forward. She continued to have me pull forward until I was right on the line. Her hoof stopped and so did I. Morning exchanged glances with both of us before trotting back and flashing her horn with a bright purple flash.

Natural driving instincts took over as my hooves acted on their own to create the best possible launch.I could feel the tires catch grip far better than they ever had before thanks to the rubber left behind by the other drivers. My bumper shot out in front of the GTO, which brought a large smile to my muzzle.

Morning Mist became a distant figure in my mirror as my hoof hit the first nitrous kit. Flames erupted out from the exhaust pipes as I kept part of my gaze on the road and boost gauge. Once it was safe for me to use the second kit, I mashed the button down. Another round of flames exploded out from my vehicle while I looked at Runner Up.

His car pulled ahead a bit more that I couldn’t tell if I was winning or if we were tied. As we passed the halfway point, I mashed my emergency nitrous button to give myself an additional bit of horsepower that could make or break this race. My eyes darted to the gauge after hitting the button to find the needle was dangerously approaching where my engine would have problems.

A loud explosion from the engine made my heart slowly sink back into my chest as both vehicles came flying across the finish line at the same time. Without wanting to damage my engine any more than that last shot had done, I took my foot off the gas, slowly coming to a stop near the pony that could make a call on a close call like that one.

I got out of my car to find Runner Up breathing heavy. He looked at me with a smile. “I love it when things come down to the wire like that! It’s all for this feeling right here!” I couldn’t help but laugh at his enthusiasm while he beat his chest to mimic his fast beating heart.

The pony in charge of declaring a winner looked at both of us for a second, but before he said anything he took another look at the video. A few moments began feeling like an eternity as the stallion nodded his head and pointed at the winner.

Runner threw his hoof up and waved back at the crowd down the road from us. From where we were standing, we could see them all cheering. When Runner faced me my heart skipped a beat. I stared out at the empty field next to us before galloping over to my car and starting it up, which took a few tries as the nitrous had blown something in the engine. Thankfully it started up before anyone could talk to me, although I thought I heard Runner try to speak.

I slammed on the gas and drove.

It took me a few minutes to find a barn to park my car behind. For a few moments I just sat there listening to the sound of my engine getting ready to die out on me. Once it did, I slid my hooves along the steering wheel.

I screamed at the top of my lungs with my hooves slamming into the steering wheel. My hooves hit it again and again until it finally bent. Smoke continued to rise up from the engine signaling to me that even if I wanted to challenge him to a rematch it was already out of the question.

*** ***

My hooves felt ready to fall apart by the time I ran into the hospital. The sun hadn’t even risen despite the early morning hours. Each step I took my brain tried piecing together another plan that I could use to get the money I needed. Even getting an extension on the payment would be enough to settle my pounding heart.

Buttercup’s clipboard containing all of her medical information wasn’t on the door. I checked inside the room for her, but it was empty. It took me a moment to walk back outside. “Excuse me,” I asked pulling a nurse to the side. “Where was Buttercup moved to?”

“Buttercup?” she said to herself thinking about the name. “Oh. Sky, she passed away in her sleep earlier tonight. We tried contacting your home phone a few times, but you never answered.” She walked inside the room then returned with my ice climber. I don’t know how long I stood there holding it in my hoof, but it was long enough that the nurse left to avoid whatever awkward situation I put her in.

An hour passed before I finally got the strength to get up and walk over to the doctor’s office. I stared at the door then bucked it as hard as I could. “Jackass!” I continued to buck it one hit at a time until a police officer pulled me away.