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A Gastronomic Coup1,377 words
Turndown for What?!1,421 words
Here Comes a New Challenger!3,214 words
Indulgent Issues1,935 words
Dazed and Despoiled?2,103 words

Here Comes a New Challenger!

With his crestfallen companion trotting along beside him, Anon shrewdly rubbed his chin. There had to be a job out there that would accommodate her eclectic skill set. She was easily the strongest pony he’d ever met - too strong, in fact - but that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. It did seem to be possible for her to rein in her herculean might, if only occasionally, so there may be hope for her.

“Step right up and see if you have the skills to make a few quick bits!” a duo of voices loudly called, shaking the man from his thoughts.

Slowing and turning his head, he spied a large congregation of ponies gathering around a pair of slender stallions atop a raised platform. Adorned in matching striped shirts, ties, and boater hats, the two were almost identical. The only discernible difference between the pair was that one had a spruce mustache and the other did not, though they could easily pass for…

“That’s right, folks! The world famous Flim Flam brothers have returned! But we’ll not be selling wares this time! Oh no, not this time! This time, we’re bringing the opportunity to make a quick bit to you!” one of them declared, waving a hoof at the gathering onlookers.

At the mention of earning coin, Anon ground to a halt. The dubious sounding siblings were more than likely staging some sort of scam, given their remarkably upbeat and carefree demeanor. Without ever having met or seen them before, he could tell they were up to no good - after all, only con artists and swindlers would have people or ponies believe making money was easy.

“You heard right! My brother Flim here meant every word. For the low, low fee of five bits, you can quadruple your investment!” Flam stated, waving to his sibling.

Shaking his head and moving to his twin’s side, Flim hung a foreleg around his double’s neck. “Now now, brother, don’t be so frugal! I say that the fine ponies of Ponyville can win one hundred-fold the expense!”

Even if there was some kind of hook, which there undoubtedly was, Anon couldn’t help but see what they were up to. Since he didn’t give a single, solitary shit about calling the hustlers out, he did just that. Cupping his hands around his mouth, he drew a deep breath.

“What’s the catch?!” he shouted, momentarily robbing them of their attention.

“Catch?” the pair coughed in unison, holding their chests as if stricken.

“My good - er -” Flam faltered, possibly unsure of how to address the biped, “creature, there is no catch!”

“That’s absolutely correct!” Flim interjected, stepping in front of his brother. “All anypony as to do is agree to a small feat of strength against our assistant!”

Anon still wasn’t buying it, but the mention of strength did catch his ear. In spite of the fact that whatever game they were playing was most likely rigged, Nord was a veritable titan! If they were relying on some doctored machine or gimmicky ploy, there was a very real chance that the enormous equine could brute force her way through it. Nodding towards them, he leaned over to his quadrupedal accomplice.

“I’m not sure what their game is, but do you want to give it a shot?” he asked, keeping his voice low. “It’s only five bits, so I’m not really worried about it - if they cheat you, that is.”

“Ah'ament scared o' they twa dandies,” she spat, scowling over at the duo. Rolling up her sleeves and setting her brow, she bulldozed her way through the audience. “Oi, ye poofters, ah’ll tak' yer challenge!”

“Mares and gentlecolts, we have a taker!” Flam announced, waving her forward.

Sticking just behind Nord, Anon approached the duo. As they moved through the masses, he noticed the pair lingered by a large, empty patch of earth. A broad circle had been painted on the ground, beside an immense, covered carriage; the whole setup looked like it was some sort of an arena, although the specifics of their trial were yet to be seen.

“Ahem -” Flim coughed, extending an open forhoof towards him.

Fishing into his pocket, Anon retrieved a handful of coins and paid the stallion. “And this feat of strength is…?” he let the question hang, folding his arms over his chest.

“Quite simple! All the little missus has to do is stay in this circle for five minutes,” Flim explained. Beaming over at the towering mare, he and his sibling beamed.

Flam ushered her into the arena, opposite the shrouded cart, before backing away. “Now remember, stay within the lines. That shouldn’t be too hard - right?”

Inspecting the roughly twenty-foot diameter circle, Nord nodded. Unless the entire area had concealed booby traps, trap doors, or hidden mechanisms of some sort, there shouldn’t have been anything to worry about - shouldn’t in that there had to be something to give the siblings an edge. Squaring her shoulders and taking a braced stance, the mare readied herself for whatever they planned to throw at her.

With all the pieces in place, the duo retreated and hefted an oversized, wind-up timer. “On your mark,” one stated. “Get set,” the other continued. “Go!” they decried in unison.

The first few seconds ticked by without incident, but it wasn’t long before the wagon sat beside the circular area started to rock. An ominous stomping emanated from within the veiled confines of the wheeled carriage, moments before an enormous hand emerged from behind the curtain. A collective gasp rippled through the crowd, as a monstrous form emerged.

Striking a dramatic pose, the minotaur flexed his obscenely swollen arms and smiled. Though Anon had only ever heard of the mythical creatures, he’d had no way of knowing they were that large. Standing a head taller than himself and absolutely covered in muscle, the beast was among the larger Equestrian creatures he’d ever seen - excluding fully grown dragons, of course. Surprised by the grand reveal, it took the man a second to put the pieces together.

“You didn’t say anything about anyone trying to get her out of the stupid ring!” Anon cried.

“No, but you didn’t ask about it either,” Flim tutted.

“You just have to stay in the arena with Iron Will!” the minotaur bellowed, arrogantly displaying his brawn and inexplicably referring to himself in the third person. “Not to worry though, Iron Will would never hurt a lady.”

Squinting over at the hulking biped, Nord’s face twisted in disdain. “Whit?”

“I just said you don’t have anything to worry about, little lady!” Iron Will chuckled. Casually sauntering over to the mare, he leaned in and booped her snoot. “Be a dear and just step out for me, I’d hate to have to - Oof!”

Whatever condescending bullshit the bull-man had been about to spout was cut short, as Nord reared back and headbutted him squarely in the solar plexus. With the wind driven from his sails and lungs, the minotaur staggered back. Evidently he hadn’t anticipated her putting up much of a fight, looking both surprised and pained by the blow.

“T...that - Cough - that was pretty good. Well then, now that you’ve had your fun, I think it’s time you move along,” Iron Will growled. His tone, while still mockingly playful, took on an ominous edge. Even if he was trying to play it off, it was clear to see he wasn’t pleased with her recalcitrance.

“Let's gie it a gang , ye dunderheided fud. Ah'ament scared o' ye, ye muckle, glaikit bas,” Nord responded. Pawing at the earth and lowering her center of gravity, she stared daggers at her foe.

Anon would have interjected, had his curiosity not been piqued. The titanic equine was remarkably sturdy, huge, and impossibly robust. If there was one pony who could physically overpower the imposing minotaur, he’d put his bits on her. A grin crept across his face, as an insidious idea started to coalesce.

“Hey,” he grunted, elbowing Flim’s side, “how much do we get if she throws him out of the ring?”

The twin rose his hoof and opened his mouth, but remained silent. “If we could just have one moment...”

Turning towards one another and stepping close, the siblings struck a heated discussion. Whatever they were saying was lost on the man, though they fiercely whispered about something. Nord and Iron Will idled within the makeshift arena, watching the twins silently deliberate. After a short but heated exchange, they backed away and faced the man.

“Sir, we’ll have you know that this is a competition of strength - not some boorish brawl,” Flam clucked.

“But,” Flim continued, “if you were willing to quadruple your stake, we could amend the rules.”

“Yes indeedy!” Flam chirped. “For another fifteen bits, your cumbersome friend here could wrestle Iron Will!”

Without a second thought, Anon retrieved the bits from his pocket and jammed them into the stallion’s hoof. “Deal.”

“Everypony, gather ‘round! Here, for the very first time, we’ll be hosting the premier Flim-Flam Wrestling Competition! Make your bets! Who will win? The massively macho minotaur, Iron Will or the mysterious mountain mare?”

The prospect of a legitimate competition stirred the crowd, sending ponies rushing over to gamble on who would win the impromptu match. Between the pair of siblings, several hundred bits must have exchanged hooves. It was hard for Anon to keep track, but almost everyone seemed to place their wager on the minotaur; he couldn’t blame them or anything, since he was slightly larger than the mare, although it did get him thinking. Digging out the last of his cash, he tapped Flim’s shoulder.

“What’re the odds against Nord?”

“We’re going with five to one odds. Care to fork over a few more bits for your bonny lass?” the stallion haughtily inquired.

Passing the pony the last of his coin, Anon walked over to his housemate. “No stress, but I just bet what little money I had on you,” he muttered. “You think you can take him?”

She sternly nodded, eyeing her opponent from head to cloven toe. “Aye, ah kin tak' him. A've fought worse in mah d-”

Ding Ding Ding

Spinning around, drawn by the clatter, Anon spotted the pair ringing a boxing bell. Besides the brief introduction, there hadn’t been any formal declaration for the match to begin; a fact which Iron Will was all too happy to exploit. The only warning he had was the sudden stomping of hooves and a tremendous snort, as he bulky bull charged. Acting on instinct, diving to the side, he narrowly avoided the great beast.

While he didn’t see the impact, he sure as hell heard it. The meaty Thump of two bodies colliding cut through the air. Rolling to the side and scrambling backwards, he retreated from the conflict. Had he been a split second slower, he would have been crushed between the two! Coming to rest outside the arena, seated on the ground, he watched the conflict.

Much to his horror, Iron Will had immediately taken the upper hand. Slamming against her chest, with his head lowered, he’d slipped to her side and wrapped his arms around her chest. With a mighty grunt, the bull-man rose to his full height, hauled the mare off her hooves, and slammed her onto her back. The most unsettling thing about the exchange wasn’t the raw power which was required for the feat, nor the fact that he’d somehow laid her out in an instant, but the look of abject surprise on the lass’ face.

“That is for catching Iron Will off guard,” the minotaur huffed, pompously resting his hands on his hips.

Shaking and clearing her head, Nord spat on the ground. “Didnae lik' that, eh?” she asked, rolling over to her belly. “Mibbie this wull dae ye better!”

Kicking out, she swept the legs from under her opponent. Iron Will windmilled, desperately trying to catch himself, but it was too late. Falling onto his back, with his arms outstretched, he was left staring up at the heavens. It was a fitting change of pace, one which gave Anon a glimmer of hope, but Nord was far from finished.

Swiftly getting to her hooves, before her opponent could react, she tensed her legs and leapt into the air. As she launched herself nearly ten feet straight up, every head present lifted to watch her ascent. The sight was as insane as it was gravity defying, though it didn’t last for long. Slowing, seeming to hover for a fleeting moment, she began her earthbound descent.

Locking her forelegs together, she “Hawp ye'r duin fur seconds!” she guffawed.

With that grand declaration, she executed what may have been the most brutal elbow drop in Equestrian history. The minotaur’s eyes bulged, a pained wheeze escaped him, and Anon could swear he heard bones creak. Nord quickly withdrew, hopping up and triumphantly wheeling around to face the crowd. As she looked to her friend, a brazen smirk split her muzzle.

“See, hee haw tae worry aboot,” she laughed, dusting herself off.

Anon’s joy turned to abject dread, as a large figure rose behind the mare. His heart froze and his voice hitched in his throat, leaving him unable to speak. Though he threw out a hand, frantically trying to warn her, his desperate signal came an instant too late. Iron Will draped himself over her back, locked his arms round her, and performed an absolutely flawless german suplex.

The earth beneath his feet quaked, as the mare’s head and shoulders were smashed into the packed earth. Seeing the move carried out between two bipeds was startling enough, but witnessing it happen to a horse was downright horrendous. Nord’s teeth clacked together and her face came perilously close to her loins, while her body was nearly folded in half.

“Oh Yeah!!!” Iron roared, righting himself and pretentiously posturing for his onlookers. “Iron Will wins again! There isn’t a pony around I couldn’t crush!”

The blood in Anon’s veins ran cold, seeing the devastating display. Though he’d only known Nord for a short time, he would have never suspected she’d be utterly destroyed by a flagrantly exhibitionistic, muscle-bound steer. Grief-stricken, praying she wasn’t dead, he rushed towards her - that was, until she fell to her side and stirred.

“Ye think ye'r sae pumpin' tough,” she snarled, faltering getting her hooves under herself. “Muckle, glaikit besom, acting sae muckle 'n' ill. Ah will shaw ye a thing or twa…”

“That wasn’t enough for you?” Iron conceitedly chuckled, slowly shaking his head and keeping his back to her. Sadly for the steer, his hubris was his undoing.

The mare rested in a squat, tensed her hind legs, and front flipped at the bovine. As her lower half came towards him, he was gone. Anon did a double take, wondering what in the hell had happened. Where Iron Will had stood, only an empty space remained. With her lower limbs fully extended, Nord flopped to the ground where her foe had loomed. A deafening boom to his left caused him to start and instinctively glance to the side.

The wagon had vanished, replaced by splintered, moldering debris of ruined timber and shattered iron. Whatever the hell had happened was over and done with in a flash, quicker than the eye could see, which left the audience speechless. A lone, outstretched arm reached from the shattered remains of the once pristine carriage, a testament to the ruinous force that was the pony out of time.

“That wull shaw him, glaikit hurdie,” Nord groused, pawing at a tear in her shirt.

An unshakable relief washed over Anon, coming to grips with what had happened. Fuck if he could give the exact details, but he presumed his friend had defeated the beefed up beefcake with some sort of apocalyptic drop kick. It was some of the craziest shit he’d ever seen, even though he didn’t technically see it. Running over and throwing his arms around her neck, he buried his face under his chin.

“Don’t scare me like that!” he murmured, pulling away and peering up at her.

Despite her disheveled state, her cheeks darkened. “Bah! 'Twas hee haw. Na need tae worry aboot me…”

“Our cart!” Flim and Flam wailed in tandem, dashing over to their razed wagon.

It was then that ponies started cheering, hooping and hollering at the bizarre and extraordinarily violent spectacle. It was the first time Anon had ever seen any residents of Equestria react to something so brutal and he dearly hoped he and Nord hadn’t unintentionally sparked the flames of blood-sport among the peaceful society. Potential concerns aside, the man had something much more pressing to address.

Strolling over to the siblings, watching them haul the dazed, semi-conscious, and likely concussed Iron Will from the wreckage, Anon cleared his throat. “My payout, please?”

Flam frowned over his shoulder at the man, abandoning his efforts to free the minotaur. “A rather bold assumption, given the damages you’ve imparted on our property and our associate. What makes you think we’re going to pay out?”

The man smirked and ever so slightly dipped his head towards Nord. “I’m sure I could think of something.”

Steadily turning to face them, leaving his brother to ineffectually haul the minotaur from the rubble, Flam sat his sack of coins down and started counting. It was rather telling that he’d prioritized his cash over the quite possibly injured Iron Will, though that only made Anon feel better. Even with the cost of their sundered wagon and impending medical bills for their bovine buddy, they’d made a ton from the betting alone.

“Here,” the stallion sourly pouted, waving to a heap of bits, “I hope you're happy.”

“Don’t forget that I bet on her,” Anon clucked, his smile broadening.

Flam rolled his eyes and haphazardly scooped out another hooffull of bits. Whether or not it was the exact amount of his winnings wasn’t much of a concern, given the fact that it was still a massive windfall. Squatting down, jamming coins into his pockets, he quickly realized he’d need some additional storage space.

“You got a bag or something?” he asked, looking up at Nord. The mare nodded, producing a small sack from within her damaged shirt for him. Hastily gathering up his earnings and issuing a halfhearted salute to the pair of con artists, he made his leave. “Hey, Nord,” he called, drawing her attention, “you want to do something to celebrate? I mean, you did just earn us this haul.”

“A'm juist crabbit that mah sark git torn,” she grouched, pawing at her somewhat worse for wear outfit.

Left to presume she was upset about her damaged clothing, Anon pursed his lips. “Tell you what, maybe we can get you a new shirt on the way home.”

“'N' some dinner?” she countered, expectantly grinning back at him.

“Sure, why not,” he laughed.

He couldn’t fathom how she could be hungry, after having wolfed down enough food to feed a small army, but he wasn’t about to complain. After battling and besting a minotaur in pitched combat, she’d more than earned a meal and a new blouse. Trotting along beside her, with coins jingling and jangling about his person, he led the way towards the shop district...

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