Luna Angels

by anarchywolf18

July 3 1969 Califoalnia

At a small newsstand in the east end of Pinto Creek, a scrawny young stallion’s eyes darted across the pages of the adventure magazine he was supposed to be selling. Nopony ever bought the entire stock, so nopony would notice if that particular magazine went to the same place that all of the other magazines the stallion took went.

As he turned a page, the stallion saw a familiar sight walk by his stand. A tall, shapely mare with legs that went on for miles strutted past him. Same mare as every morning, dressed in the same outdated waitress uniform that would have looked at home in a black and white photo. But, stallion, did she rock it good.

Same as every morning, the stallion at the newsstand stealthily looked away from the pages of his reading material, and leaned ever so slightly over his counter. Same as every morning, she looked just as good from behind as she did from the front. After the highlight of his day had gone and passed, the stallion sat back to read his magazine during a whole day of nothing.

In the distance, the rumble of an engine caught the stallion’s ear. It wasn’t any car that he was familiar with. He knew the distinct sounds of each engine by heart. Most likely, it was one of the local bikers coming back from doing whatever out in the desert. Paying no mind, he kept his nose in his magazine.

The motorcycle was growing closer. In moments, it became so loud that the stallion knew the rider was upon him, ready to pass him up. Instead, he heard its rumbling engine start to quiet, then came to a guttural stop from across the street.
For just a moment, the stallion at the newsstand glimpsed up to see the new arrival. One of the Luna Angels, or a Diamond Dog, he guessed. Instead, he saw a stranger. An enormous stranger who rode an equally large motorcycle. Big Mac had come to Pinto Creek.

The stallion at the newsstand kept on reading his magazine, as he heard the steps of Big Mac’s boots clomping across the empty street. Moments later, they stopped right in front of his booth.

“Got a pack o’ smokes?” Big Mac asked.

The stallion said nothing, but reached to his side and produced a pack of cigarettes, which he dropped on the counter.
Big Mac eyed the cigarettes pensively.

“Ain’t ya gonna tell me how much I owe ya?” he asked.

The stallion motioned to a sign behind him that read, ‘Cigarettes: $4.00.’

Big Mac said nothing in turn, and produced a dirty, crumpled bill from his front pocket and tossed it on the counter next to the cigarettes.

“Know a place to eat? Guy can’t live off o’ jerky C-rations these days,” Big Mac said.

“Corner diner. End of the street that way,” the stallion at the newsstand said, pointing down the road to his left.

“Thanks,” was all Big Mac said, as he took his cigarettes and walked off.

“Hey, big fella. Ya paid five bucks for those cigs,” the stallion said.

“Keep the change,” Big Mac said, dismissively waving his hand.

True to the directions he had been given, Big Mac found the diner at the end of the street, and walked through the front door.

The first thing that greeted Big Mac upon entering was the somber tune of ‘You Can’t Ever Go Home Again’ playing from the jukebox near the door. Somehow, he thought it fit right in with the look of the diner. Back in it’s day, the place must have looked futuristic. Now, the two-tone checkered floors were cracked, the wine red seats were badly sun dried and shoddily patched with duct tape, and the empty spaces at the counter where stools were once screwed to the floor forced spaces between the customers sitting there.

Big Mac walked to the counter and took his seat on a stool that had an empty space on either side of it. As he waited for a waitress, he lit up a cigarette and took a long, satisfied drag off the end of it.

The minutes passed, and he had not been tended to. The end of his cigarette was beginning to turn to ash. Big Mac looked around for an ashtray to use, but found nothing of the sort. Instead, he found a half-drank cup of coffee, which was stone cold. Taking his cigarette, he tapped the ash into the cup, just as a waitress walked over to him.

“Sorry to keep ya waitin’. We--” she stopped for a moment. “We have ashtrays, ya know.”

“Sorry about that, ma’am. Didn’t think anypony’d mind me usin’ their cold cup o’ coffee scum for my cigs,” Big Mac said.
He looked up as the waitress was serving him a proper ashtray, which she retrieved from beneath the counter. The first thing that he noticed about her was that even her waitress uniform was outdated, and heavily worn with age. Even on a mare who looked as good as her, the uniform almost made her look twenty years older than she actually was, just by wearing it.

“Okay. What’ll ya have?” the waitress asked, producing her pen and pad from her pocket.

“Shortstack. A big one. Side o’ redeye grits. An’ a black coffee,” Big Mac said.

“Mm-hm…” The waitress said, as she jotted down the order on her pad. “Gonna be a few minutes, sugah. Stick aroun’ an’ enjoy the view.”

Big Mac did just that, and spun around on his stool to look out the window. Between the low music, quiet atmosphere and scarcity of traffic, it reminded him of the peaceful morning that he had spent on his family farm, before he got on the bus to boot camp. Just as it was the very second that he got on that bus, the peace ended when he overheard two young stallions talking nearby.

“You hear what happened at the pool hall yesterday?” one of the stallions said. “Some guy from Luna Angels burned it down.”

“No kidding?” the other stallion said.

“Yeah. Killed like a half dozen of the Diamond Dogs doing it.”

“Damn,” said the second stallion, before taking a sip of his coffee. “Me? I say fuck those dogs. Last week, when I was going back to my car from the grocery store, I caught one of those guys lifting a leg on my car. Then he says I should pay him for washing it.”

Luna Angels. The gang that he was told about at the gas station from before. Now, there he was in the very town that they crashed in. As long as he was there, he figured that he may take them up on the offer to visit them. For the moment, he was going to enjoy the quiet and get his breakfast.

---

An unexpected presence woke up Sun Dance that morning. It wasn’t the mare he had his arm around, and it wasn’t the mare who passed out on top of him while she had her teeth on his fly. When he awoke, Sun Dance saw one of the prospects eyeing him like a vulture did over thirsty cattle.

“You got a death wish, prospect?” Sun Dance said, narrowing his bloodshot eyes contemptuously.

“Sorry to bother you, sir. Just, uh...There’s the sheriff outside,” the prospect said, turning a paler shade.

Sun Dance growled quietly, and got off of the pool table he had fallen asleep on. Both mares rolled limply over as he stood up, but giggled sleepily when he pinched both their cutie marks.

“Gimme that coffee, boy,” Sun Dance said, taking the prospect’s coffee and guzzling it down. “And that smoke,” he finished, taking the prospect’s cigarette, before he started getting dressed. “Get downstairs with the others. I’ll make it quick with Johnny Law.”

Once he got outside, the first thing that Sun Dance heard was a loud, metallic clang. Looking to the source, he first saw the massively fat Sheriff Rosco sitting on the hood of his patrol car, unwrapping a fresh cigar. Another loud clang was heard, just after Sun Dance saw the sheriff’s rail thin deputy pick up a rock and chuck it at the motorcycles. When the rock hit its mark and left a shallow dent, the deputy cackled loudly.

“Sheriff,” Sun Dance half-heartedly greeted.

Sheriff Rosco and his deputy both snapped to attention.

“Sun Dance, my boy. How are ya? Lookin’ like ya got up on the wrong side o’ the bed,” Sheriff Rosco chuckled.

“I woke up on my pool table with a mare nuzzlin’ my cock. Ain’t no wrong side there,” Sun Dance said.

The deputy threw the rock that he was holding, and jammed it into the front wheel of one of the bikes. He and Sheriff Rosco both laughed.

“Good one, boy!” Sheriff Rosco said.

Sun Dance glared.

“I’d offer ya some coffee, but I hear it’s bad for a pig’s stomach,” he said.

“Oh! Oh ho ho! Careful with that joke. It’s an antique,” Sheriff Rosco said, as he lit his cigar. “I’m sure you know why I’m here, don’t ya?”

“Don’t care. But, I’m sure you’re gonna tell me anyway,” Sun Dance replied.

“As it turns out, my boy, there was a little bonfire in town yesterday. Pool hall just up and burned. No witnesses about who started that. We’re guessin’ there was at least one, but the guy had a .45 cal hole between his eyes,” the sheriff said.

Sun Dance shrugged dismissively.

“Sounds like somepony was sendin’ a message,” he said.

“Be that as it may, it coulda been sent quieter,” Sheriff Rosco said. “Because o’ you an’ your boys, the mayor’s gonna--”
“The mayor’s gonna do jack shit. Same as he’s always done. Those dogs were nothin’ but trouble. Sellin’ PCP. To fuckin’ kids. Nopony’s gonna give a shit about one dead dog. Especially not any law stallion on my payroll,” Sun Dance said.

Sheriff Rosco rubbed his eyes beneath his sunglasses.

“Right,” he said, “Next time, a heads up would be nice.”

“Sure. Now, you and your little piglet get off my fuckin’ lawn. Your wife’s waiting for me upstairs,” Sun Dance said, before he turned to enter his house.

---

After Big Mac finished his breakfast, finding the Luna Angels clubhouse was as easy as finding a whorehouse on R&R. He didn’t even need to ask directions. He just followed the dozens of streaks that were left in the road by traveling motorcycles.

He followed them well past the outskirts of town. Far past where the roads were paved, up the dusty trails into the hills. Big Mac thrusted his bike into full gear and tore up the side of the hill. At the top, he jumped the crest and landed hard on the road. A mile or two away, he could see a wall of junked cars at the top of another hill. That was it.

Big Mac hit the turnoff and coasted up the hill.

He slowed down when he passed the wall of cars, and saw a row of parked motorcycles. Preferring not to start any trouble, he parked his bike away from the others. A bit of etiquette that didn’t go unnoticed by the stallion who was seated at the clubhouse entrance.

Big Mac trotted up the steps catching a strong whiff of catnip in the air, and the roaring sound of hard rock blaring from inside. He hesitated when he saw the stallion at the door with his arms behind his back. A stallion almost as big as himself. His face was half covered by his grizzled red beard. The other half was covered by a cloud of cigar smoke.
“Lose yer way, stranger?” the stallion asked.

“Nope,” Big Mac answered. “Fella by the name o’ Thor said I oughta check out yer clubhouse if I’m in the neighborhood. So, ya got no need to pull that piece on me.”

“What? This thing?” the stallion said, revealing his right arm, dangling a large automatic pistol off his trigger finger. “Don’t worry about this peashooter. I’m more dangerous without it.”

“Rog’,” Big Mac said.

The stallion smirked beneath his beard, having not heard that lingo since he was discharged.

“I’m guessin’ yer that guy from the gas station some o’ the guys were talkin’ about?” he asked.

“Eeyup.”

The stallion motioned with his head toward the door, and Big Mac walked inside.

Author's Note:

you can't ever go home again by Glenn Yarbrough. song link https://youtu.be/CJ4AYicWHQ4

ROG is military slang for roger.

Edit by https://www.fimfiction.net/user/209410/wingdingaling

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Comments

[WeepingAngel2020]

Glad to see it return. Just read through all previous chapters as well. This story is getting interesting, and I can't wait to see what Big Mac does. I am also trying to guess which of applejacks friends called him a baby killer. I wanna say fluttershy, but I don't know if she has it in her

[anarchywolf18]

10846940
Thank you.

[Arkane12]

Your review is up. You can find it here. Thanks for submitting to the The Reviewers' Mansion. Good Work.

[WeepingAngel2020]

10848427
Thinking of it a lot and let’s see
Fluttershy-to shy, maybe muttered it possibly
Rainbow- would support the wonderbolts so most likely would support the war or at least tolerate it
Pinkie- I have no idea, but I think she would still at least be there for the soldiers after the war to try and cheer them up
Applejack-would always support her brother
Rarity- another possibility
Twilight- would go on about the politics of the war