The Great and Powerful ... Walter?

by Westphalian_Musketeer

Ch. 12 Pit Stop and Pit Fight

I was surrounded, that simplified the problem. A circle of diamond dogs gathered around me in a tight circle, their jaundice eyes leering at me as their leader approached me with a strange hood. Netting stretched across a bamboo frame in a rough head-shape, and attached to a birch-bark funnel.

He brought the hood over my face, twisting and jerking it, which caused my fur to chafe.

“Is this the worst the diamond dogs can come up with?” I asked defiantly. “Silly headgear?”

Another diamond dog approached with a thick burlap sack that roiled, bulged, and buzzed. My eyes widened, and the dog upturned the sack so the opening lay over the hole, and downpour of enraged bees fell into the hood, trapped with my face.

“No! Not the bees! Oh god not the bees!” I hollered.

As the insidious insects gathered around the base of my horn, prepared to sting, I bucked in a vain attempt to remove the hood, and a jolt shot up my hind legs.

“OW!” My eyes snapped open and I fell backwards onto—”Oof!”—carpet. Damn dreams, so vivid.

I was stuck between the bed and the wall when I heard Zecora moan. “Oh... sorry for being so avowed, but could you try not to be so loud?”

I scrunched up my back and shuffled across the floor like a caterpillar, too constricted to flip over onto my hooves. I managed to get the maneuvering room I needed to stand. My head poked out from behind the bed, and I blinked the last of the sleep from my eyes as I gazed around. Redheart was lying on the floor, while Zecora stood beside her, both staring at me.

“Where are... Oh...” I dropped my half-formed question from the depths of sleep and stuck my chin in the air as I walked out from behind the bed to stand beside Redheart. “A mare needs her morning exercises to keep up a brisk blood flow for a hard day’s journey.”

Redheart finally stood up from her huddled position as she began to make our bed. “Trixie... Did you happen to kick me in your sleep?”

I tilted my head. Great, even in a different body I still managed to blast someone off a bed. “Ah...” I said, horn glowing to retrieve my hat and cape. “So that was why it felt so real when I kicked that bear off of me.” My two faithful companions—my cape and hat—fastened themselves to me as I offered my apology. “I did warn you that I might kick in bed.”

Redheart glanced over from her making the bed with a raised eyebrow at me. “First you’re screaming about bees, then a bear? Just what kind of dream were you having?”

I shut my eyes briefly. “For an expert in magic, the mind must be considered a training ground, one of constant danger to guard against, much like the real world.” I walked past Redheart and Zecora. “You would do well to learn that.”

Once Redheart had finally finished making the bed neat again, she walked towards the door. “I’m going to see if the others are awake yet. The sooner we leave from here, the better.”

With the mention of travel, I turned my attention to the one roommate unaccounted for, looking to the white and blue lump of a DJ as Zecora approached. Zecora nudged Vinyl then shook her head when the white unicorn obstinately remained unconscious.

As soon as Redheart approached the door, it swung open, almost hitting her in the face. She quickly jumped out of the way, revealing Merille as he walked inside the room. “Hey, everyone else is up already. We were wondering if you wanted to come get some breakfast with us.”

“Constant danger,” I whispered at Redheart’s near face-smashing encounter.

Cutting in after Merille uttered the word “breakfast,” Vinyl jumped out of bed with a huge grin on her face. “Breakfast! So, where we going? Waffle House? IHOP?”

“Gah!” Zecora fumbled about on the bed and jumped, falling over the side. Zecora shook her head again as she righted herself and looked back up to Vinyl. “I’m glad you are now awake, but must every morning start with a headache?”

Vinyl put a hoof to her chin as she looked at all of us. “Hey... I just got a great idea. How about we start taking pictures while we’re on this road trip! Breakfast can wait a bit.”

Zecora mimed Vinyl’s thinking posture with a hoof to her chin. Her eyes grew distant for a moment. “Pictures of all of all four of us?” she said. “I guess its not too much of a fuss.”

Great, a photo-op?

Redheart clopped her hooves together. “That sounds like a fun idea! It isn’t often that someone goes across the country.”

“I have journeyed across the country plenty of times,” I said, “though I suppose a record of our exploits would do no harm.”

Vinyl pointed her hoof at Merille, “You got your phone with you, right?” He nodded as she continued, “Could you take a photo of us four sitting on the bed?”

Redheart giggled a bit as she happily climbed up on the bed, back legs kicking for a few moments as she pulled herself up from the edge.

“So, if I may?” Zecora asked sheepishly as she hopped back onto the bed. “Is this spot ok?” Redheart simply nodded and grinned.

“On the bed?” I asked. The same bed that Vinyl had been sleeping on? I raised a hoof and scrunched up my face.

In a moment, I was encased in a magical field! Vinyl’s! Violation! Impertinence! I was dragged up next to the incredibly rude unicorn. “Yes, on the bed!” The grip faded, and I was left to drop onto the bed.

“Aye!” I yipped as I bounced onto the mattress. The indignity. Moved about like a foal trying to disobey their mother. Dragged by the ear to father. A cold churning in my chest pushed itself into my face.

Vinyl threw a hoof over my shoulder. “Come on, Trixie, smile for the camera!”

There was a quick flash as Merille snapped the picture. He took a quick look at it and said, “It came out good, but for some reason, the colors of the room changed to blue.” He flipped the phone over to show us, and, true to the human’s word, the colors of the picture were quite different from that of the actual room.

I didn’t have time to occupy myself with that kind of issue. I had just been humiliated by that disk jockey. Carried by magic! Why didn’t she just cast an age spell, swaddle me in diapers and get it over with!?

“Well, we are all travelling to New York to stop Discord, maybe he thought such a simple parlour trick would frighten us?” I said curtly, resisting the urge to smack Vinyl as I pulled myself out of her grip and hopped off the bed.

“Now,” Vinyl said as she got off the bed... Stay away from me. Calm thoughts, calm thoughts. “With that out of the way, how’s about we get some food?” Vinyl suggested.

The thought of breakfast did have a calming affect on my agitation.

“Hmmm...” I smacked my lips together. “Breakfast does sound like an amazing idea right now.” I stretched, yawned, then tensed as I glanced over at the empty night stand. “What time is it? The clock appears to be missing.”

Everyone else looked at to where the clock once was. Vinyl just shrugged it off and said, “That’s weird. Oh well. I’m too hungry to care.”

Zecora performed a doubletake at Vinyl as she made that observation. Was I missing something from their interactions? “Hmm.? Don't you recall? The changes you installed....” Zecora trailed off to stare at the white unicorn giving her an equally strange look.

The DJ continued to give Zecora a confused look. “What are you talking about? I don’t know how to install anything unless it deals with a computer.” She then began to laugh a bit, “You must have had one odd dream.”

Dreams, so many messed up dreams. Maybe Discord had decided to pay us a little visit. I wondered if Pablo and Enrique, Snails and Snips respectively, had an equally troubled night.

“Oh....” Zecora smiled with squinted and rubbed the back of my head that screamed she was recovering from a screw up. “I guess that’s easier to accept. I... might have broken it as I slept...” She proposed.

The Zebra and the Wubmaster were clearly attempting to keep something from me. But clearly Zecora was the weaker of the two. If I was to get the information between them, she would be the one to crack. I just needed to wait for an opportunity.

Vinyl laughed a bit and said, “Wow Zeccy, I had no idea you would break things as you sleep. Anyway, let’s get some breakfast. I’m starving!”

It wasn't long afterwards that we found ourselves packing our things and making our way back to Luis’ Prius. I moved with all haste and watched as Enrique and Pablo were put back in the trunk. I hopped in without a word, and waited.

Luis asked, “You all ready to go? We’re going to head over to the nearby Waffle House.”

“I am prepared!” I shouted. “Onward, driver!”

A mere two traffic lights held us from our destination, and soon we were parked in front of the small diner. The word ‘slummy’ came to mind when looking at the exterior of the Waffle House. A few streaks of spray paint on the dumpsters beside it coupled with the partially burnt out sign of “affle Ho se” directed my desires to get in and out of the place with all the speed I could.

I opened the door—with magic for cleanliness—and walked in ahead of the others.

If the outside of the place was pitiful, the inside was evocative of the inside of a sewer. The smell of grease suffused the air, the walls had a layer of dust caked onto greasy walls, the lights were half burnt up, and all around me, the intense glare of judging eyes from the patrons bored into me as I approached the counter and reared up, my head not even making it over the edge.

“Ahem.”

When no one answered, I floated my hat above the counter and waved it at one of the cashiers. “Excuse me, I’d like to order some food.”

A few seconds later, I was rewarded with a drawl. “Uh, Sure ma’am. Is the others behind you with you as well?”

“Yes, they are,” I answered. “I’ll have a double waffle and some apple juice.”

The moment I was finished, Vinyl was beside me, overly pleased to once again be violating my personal space. She had a sly, knowing smile, and was her tail wagging? “Cheese omelette, with toast and hash browns! And some good ol’ fashioned OJ as my drink!”

As I withdrew from the counter, Vinyl took a quick look behind her to Zecora, still standing in the doorway, and soon the zebra was dragged to the cashier in a magical grip. As Zecora struggled to get her bearings and order something I chose a booth and slotted myself in it. I pined over the humiliation, and the lumpy seat.

I was shortly joined by Enrique and Pablo, both seeming to be acclimating to their bodies of Snips and Snails respectively as they hopped into the seats across from me. I pressed myself against the cushion as Luis scooted into the booth beside me.

As I twirled around a fork I passively glanced over to Enrique and Pablo, their green and orange faces matching each other in self-pitying boredom.

“So,” I said, gathering their attention as I continued to spin my fork in a lazy circle. Even Luis seemed captured by the sight for a moment. “I take it the two of you had a good long chat with Merille and Luis yesterday?”

Pablo nodded, his lanky neck bobbing his head up and down before he spoke. “Uh huh, I’m sorry I got carried away with Redheart.” Luis raised an eyebrow, and Pablo, thankfully displaying an increment more social awareness than his pony persona, corrected. “Oh, uh, Serah I mean.”

“Si,” said Enrique, “and I am sorry about not thinking about my advances on Zecora... Still wish I knew her real name so I could give a good apology.”

The conversation was put on a brief hiatus as a waiter brought us our food. Waffles, pancakes, or anything else, and all of it slathered in... Oh lord, if I thought the smell of grease was unsettling when it was simply a feature of the background, having that plateful of death—both in the form of heart attacks and the animals killed for it—was nothing short of traumatic. Why did Vinyl bring us here? I wasn’t judgemental, goodness knows I’d loved bacon in the past, but there was a time and a place for everything. Stuck in the body of a herbivore was not cooperative to the idea of meat.

“Hey, if you don’t want it, I’ll take the meat.” offered Luis as he saw the looks on our faces.

“Ah, thank you,” I said, pushing my plate over to him as he speared strips of fried pig onto his fork.

As he took the meat from Snips and Snails’ plates, I dug into my waffle and chewed the fluffy batter pensively.

“So yeah,” Enrique said, fumbling with his fork to slide a piece of egg to the edge of his plate before gobbling it down. “Any idea why Zecora is acting so strange?”

Luis began to ponder out loud, “It seems very out of character for someone like Zecora to be so... timid. Either that’s just the personality of the person who became Zecora, it could also be that she’s hiding something, or even just the worst identity crisis ever.”

“And let’s be honest,” I said, “she is a zebra, there must be a reason no pony usually trusts them.” Not to mention she’s hiding something from me with that marehandling psychopath, Vinyl.

It was then that a thin man walked through the door. In most circumstances I would have ignored such an event, but the instant he came in his eyes locked on me, narrowed, and then he stepped backwards, keeping eye contact until he left the building. Creepy.

“WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED TO YOUR HAIR!?” My fork clattered against my plate in response to Vinyl’s outburst.

Twisting my body and rearing onto my hind legs, I peeked over the edge of the booth, looking at Merille’s hair, now a rather appealing shade of navy blue. I nodded at the color and smiled. “Excellent choice in hair color if I do say so myself,” I said, pointing at my own immaculate cornflower blue coat.

My compliment was trailed with a comment from Enrique. “El Discord ha llegado para ti!”

Discord has come for you. The pieces fell into place, and my smile fell off my face. “We need to go,” I said. “Now.”

Vinyl, clearly not caring about the situation, protested through a wad of food. “But I’m still eating here!”

My horn glowed as I jumped out of my booth seat. I levitated Pablo behind me, not wanting to waste time in leaving. I glared at Vinyl. “Now!”

Vinyl groaned a bit as she took the food in a magic grip. Not the dishes, just the food, and hopped out of the booth. At least we were going.

Zecora stared at me, mouth slightly agape. “But it's barely even noon,” she asked lightly. “Why must we leave so soon?”

Merille took a quick look at his reflection in the window, and immediately started to freak out. “What the... WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING!? We’re definitely leaving. Now that I’m turning into Sonic the Hedgehog.” He was close, yet off by a mile at the same time.

Zecora’s hooves shot to her ears in response to Merille’s cry. “Ok, ok we’ll go,” she mumbled. “Just please, enough yelling though.”

I walked to the door, trying to keep my poise and stoicism as the top traits anyone would use to describe me. Neck lined up at one-hundred-thirty degree angle from the ground, chin up, walking, not trotting, but with a slight bounce in the step, and lastly, tail perked up, the cape handling coverage.

Pablo turned in my magical grip, and his eyes widened as he looked at what I assumed was Merille. “Madre de dios...”

“Pablo, not helping,” I hissed.

Realizing that wouldn’t help, I tried giving a serene grin to all the people in the Waffle House staring at the spectacle. “Hello, good morning, wonderfully humid this morning, isn’t it?” Reaching the door, I put Snips on the ground before bracing my hooves against the door and pushing it open. I held the door with one hoof, using the other to wave the others out the portal.

Things were looking good, creepy thin man hadn’t come back in, and Merille hadn’t fallen unconscious to transform in front of perhaps the least ideal crowd: hung over white trash.

A terrifying thought occurred to me then. What if Merille didn’t fall asleep for his coming transformation, which I assumed his hair color change was the beginning of. What if we just walked out into the parking lot and he keeled over as his legs snapped and stretched and fused in front of the whole world? What if the world began to think we were infectious? I imagined soldiers in rubber suits surrounding us with flame throwers, ready to stop the spread.

“The car! It’s being vandalized by thugs!”

Well that isn’t so bad, I thought, before the statement fully registered with me.

My attention was quickly directed to the Prius that was alone on the side of the parking lot as I heard the sound of glass being shattered. I gulped as I stared at the situation that had befallen it.

There were five masked men relieving their pent up anger on our car, including the thin man from earlier. One cracked a steel bat right into the driver side window, taking a moment to grab out what looked like the car’s GPS. One of them turned towards us, eyes burning beneath red letters stitched to a hat.

PAPA

One of the humans, even skinnier than the one who had entered the Waffle House went slack-jawed as his eyes passed over us. “Holy! You weren’t kidding! It’s a swarm of them! A pack!”

“Uh...” Pablo stepped forward, tail swishing over his snail cutie mark as he held a hoof to his chin. “Actually, we’re more of a herd?”

By all forces above, below, and sideways I did not just hear that.

The PAPA goon stepped forward, leaning down towards Snails. Not wanting a fan—however romantically presumptuous in days past—to get hurt, I yanked on his tail with my magic, pulling him away as the thug’s hands grazed the edge of his muzzle.

I floated Pablo to my side, scowling at the PAPA thug. “Hands off the crazed fanboy!”

Suddenly Vinyl, who had been standing between Zecora and the main group of delinquents, took off towards one of the thugs, taking one of the attackers off guard and knocking him to the ground. “You fuckers are gonna pay for messing up my friend’s car!”

This better be awesome, I thought.

Her success was quickly put short as another PAPA caught the DJ midstep and immediately threw her against the Prius. “I’m okay...” she right before one of the thug’s bat rolled off the top of the car and conked her on the head. “Less okay...”

Eh, the blowhard gets beat up, I can stand behind that.

“Vinyl!” Zecora called out, wobbling on her hooves before bounding for the DJ. She didn't get far however as the thug Vinyl had knocked over got back onto his feet.

“Just where do you think you’re—Oof!” He didn't get a chance to say anything else as Zecora spun on her front hooves and bucked, catching him square in the gut. The man keeled over to the cement with a grunt. A second buck came almost as quickly as the first to his head, knocking the would be thief to the ground.

“Shit, the bitch got Markus?” One of his friends said as he picked up the bat that had landed by the unconscious DJ.

My focus on Zecora’s matchup was torn when the PAPA goon closest to Enrique, Pablo, and myself stood to his full height... He must have been a good solid six feet, five inches.

“Goodness,” I said, “what do your parents feed you? You’re way too big!”

He reached into his pocket and I tensed, reflexively gripping Pablo in my magic. The man’s hand pulled out, and he held a set of keys in his fist, the points poking out from between his knuckles.

Enrique whispered, “What do we do?”

“Ummm... Remember the episode ‘Boast Busters’?” I asked.

“Yes?”

“Good... because I am about to do exactly what everypony but Twilight did when the Ursa Minor came to town.”

“What?” he asked as the thug took a step forward.

“Run!” I shouted, before bolting to the left and galloping as fast as I could with Pablo floating close behind me, and Enrique galloping with me. We dispersed from the others and weaved our way amongst sedans, minivans, and far too many pickup trucks to count. I could hear rubber pounding the pavement behind us. I could practically smell anger pluming in pungent clouds from our pursuer.

We cornered an SUV to see that Zecora had been knocked down to the ground by two remaining thugs.

“We’ve gotta help her!” Enrique panted.

“No time, crazy person on tail!” I replied, starting to feel weary from running and carrying Pablo.

“Fine, I’ll help her myself!” Enrique charged ahead, towards one of the PAPA goons just as he was about to stomp Zecora. “Ataco!” he yelled, launching himself into the small of the human’s back. I turned around another vehicle, hearing Enrique shout out, “I’ll show you how to help a friend.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a green blur sail over a red Mazda and back out of sight in a maze of parked cars.

“Buen ejemplo, hermano!” shouted Pablo.

Reminded of the burden I was dragging with me, awareness that I was lagging clutched at my mind. I put more effort into my legs, trying to get away from a person who was trying use a key like a sword, or maybe just a key that unlocks ponies’ deaths when stuck in them enough times.

“Pablo!” I gasped. “Do... something!”

I turned another corner, right into a pothole, and flipped head over tail as momentum tried snapping my leg. I landed in a heap beside Pablo, next to a silver hatchback Toyota. The human rounded the corner, moseying towards us before coming to a stop and smiling.

“Pablo, help!” I whispered.

“I can’t!” he whispered back. “I can’t even do magic!”

I huffed. “That episode, Snails lit up an entire cave with his magic! You can do this!”

“I...” Pablo shushed as the human’s legs tensed.

The man charged, fist raised and ready to wail upon us.

A yellow glow surrounded the hatchback’s trunk door, and it flew open, catching the PAPA thug in the chin, and forcibly turned his wild rush into a flip. He slammed face first into the pavement.

I got to my hooves, then helped Pablo stand up. “Good job,” I said. The beaming smile of pride from the young colt was cut short by my next statement. “Don’t tell the others about this.” The others!

We made it to the others at a trot. Blinking sweat from my eyes, I blurted out. “Whew, okay, I got one! You look like—Woah!”

A man bolted past me, sprinting like a crazed demon was after him. I blinked a few more times, seeing Zecora surrounded by three thugs, sprawled on the ground clutching injuries of their own.

“You could... use... some help?” I said. Dang, I have to say that if secretive plotting Zecora goes hoof in hoof with Kung Fu Super-Zen flank kicking, I can deal with that.

Not much longer, Merille and Luis also returned. Luis gave us a quick gesture to the Prius and said, “We got the car ready to go. Redheart’s looking over Vinyl’s injury. Just pile in the back seat, we don't have time to put everyone where they’re supposed to be.”

After we all quickly piled into the car, positioning ourselves amongst the torn cushions, Luis almost floored it as we left the Waffle House, though it took a few tries. The thugs had clearly done a number on the car judging from the moan and whine of the engine.

Snails pressed right up to me, looking at the leg that had tripped on the pothole. “Is there a chip?” I asked. “I need to know if there’s a chip. What about my horn? If I damaged my horn protecting you...” I turned to Redheart, who was still tending to Vinyl. “Is it alright?”

Redheart took a quick once-over at Trixie and said, “Yes. You’re alright. I can tell just by looking at you.”

Vinyl, who had been silent, finally spoke up. “Could you can it, Trixie? My head’s already hurting as it is.”

That was not what I needed to hear.

“No talent you said. Hmph!” I averted my gaze from Vinyl. “Went charging into a fight and got knocked out instantly!”

I prepared myself to listen to her inarticulate excuses and eventual apology, but then I heard Merille say. “Something’s really bothering my rump. I just can’t seem to get comfortable.” I looked over to the human. He shifted left and right, his face contorting into a pained expression with each movement. “God damn. Did those guys mess up the seats that bad?”

“It was totally awesome!” Snails yelled, no doubt reveling in my heroics as he pressed towards Vinyl and Redheart. “The PAPA hit you like ‘Busch!’ Then Zecora was like ‘Dios es mio!’ but then she totally kicked their flanks!”

He must have had quite the view while I had been floating him about.

Zecora’s cheeks flushed red. “All I did was a buck, it was just simple luck.” She gazed out the window, looking surprisingly uncertain for a zebra that had frightened a human into running away as quickly as that thug had.

“Really man this is very aggravating. I...” Merille said, “have a tail now...”

Horseapples and pony feathers. “What!? That’s impossible, you’re awake!” I yelled.

Merille simply held up a fluff of his tail to show it to the group. “It’s Discord. You think he’d have a set of rules to go by? Ever thought he’s doing this just to fuck with us?”

I stared. My brain, certain my eyes were giving faulty reports, filed a complaint. My eyes in turn decided that the abuses of being called a liar warranted a grievance be made with the union of sensory organs. My ears, unwilling to abide with not causing their own trouble, attempted to pirouette on the top of my head. Lastly, my mouth, no doubt still flustered from having meat hoisted in front of it for breakfast earlier, joined in.

“It’s a-a... It’s a—it’s a—it’s a...” Tail. Long, fine, thick, navy blue hair sprouting from a dock... I was disturbed, horrified and... couldn't look away.

A chuckle from Vinyl cut through the haze of my mind. “So, Merille caught a case of the pony, eh? Not really all that surprising to be honest. I kinda saw it coming.”

Right, console the person. “Well, it could be worse,” I said.

“How could this become any worse?” Zecora asked the magician quickly. “It’s starting to look more like a curse...”

“No, a curse would be turning into short, white, and Little-Miss-Can’t-Fight here,” I replied, pointing a hoof at Vinyl. There was a choking sound from the engine as Luis pulled to into a parking lot. I winced. “Or that could happen.”

Luis put both hands on his forehead in frustration. “Looks like she’s dead. Guess we have no choice but to ask for help. If it wasn’t for those damn vandals, we’d be halfway to Tennessee by now.”

“What!?” came a simultaneous exclamation from both Vinyl and Redheart. Apparently the math of baseball bat plus engine equals no ride confused them.

Vinyl, who nearly lunged from her seat, climbed over to face Luis, “So you mean we’re stuck here!?” She pointed her hoof out of the window. “Here!? At a run-down bar?”

I joined Zecora in staring out a smashed window. Lined up in front were choppers and Harley Davidson’s. The walls were a yellow-stained stucco and the trim a homely shade of brown.

“Can't you try starting it up again?” questioned Zecora, looking to Luis as though he had just stopped in front of a set of gallows. “Surely we can't stop at this bikers’ den.”

The only way out of hell was through it. Seeing no point in delaying things, I squeezed past Zecora and opened the door, hopping out into the dusty gravel of the parking lot. “Come on, one of us needs to call for a tow truck or taxi.”

Luis stepped out of the Prius before pulling a cell phone out of his pocket, “No worries. I’ll just make the call for a tow truck.”

He held the phone to his ear as he waited for a few moments. Not much longer later, he held the phone away from his ear as he turned towards us. “Damn. No signal.”

Zecora sighed and then joined me outside the vehicle. “This may be hard to construe, but what is it you plan to do?” she asked, following me.

“Well,” said I, “We’ll just have to hope there’s a phone...” I pointed to the bar, gulping for a moment. “In there.”

“Hey Merille! Don’t go in just yet!” I looked up to see Luis take a half step to the bar. I looked to the entrance to see the door swinging shut.

I acquainted my face with my hoof and sighed. “Alright, we need to get this done soon.” Trotting towards the door, I gave a few instructions to the others. “Luis, Zecora, find Merille while I get a phone. Redheart, make sure Vinyl doesn’t hurt herself anymore.”

Gravel crunched under slow moving hooves. I spun around and looked at the two colts. “You two,” I said to them. They perked up, listening attentively. “Keep watch.”

Both the brothers ears visibly drooped at my command. It kind of hurt putting them down like that, but the fewer ponies in danger the better. They slunked back to Vinyl and Redheart’s side by the broken down car. Turning once more, I opened the door, stepped in, and allowed Luis and Zecora to file in after me.

My ears pinned against my head as they were stung by the overly loud chords of ACDC’s ‘Highway to Hell’. As the door swung close I waited for my eyes to adjust the the red lighting that suffused the place from the bulbs hanging off the stucco ceiling. Wood rafters criss-crossed overhead. The place smelled of men who had spent too long drinking in the same leather jackets. In front of me was a series of three billiard tables, to the left were a number of dining tables, and to the right a bar. I took a gamble, and headed to the right.

“I’ll find a phone,” I said. “You two find Merille, he’s changing, and who knows what he’s going to try doing if he panics.”

Weaving my way around a horde of leather-chapped legs, many the size of tree trunks, I reached the bar, and looked up at the television. The news anchor’s voice was drowned out by the music, but the title at the bottom spoke plenty loud enough.“My Little Pony Pandemic Reaches Estimated Over 1000 Documented Cases”.

Not seeing the phone in any obvious spots, I turned to the waitress behind the bar, only to find that her attention was occupied by Snips and Snails, my personal entourage of Enrique and Pablo.

“You both look smaller than the ponies on the tube,” the waitress said, leaning against bar. “You sure you’re of age?”

“Are you of age?” Pablo retorted.

I trotted out from behind the waitress’ legs and scowled at the two of them. “I told you both to stay with Vinyl and the others!” I hissed.

“Oh Jeez!” The waitress skipped back a step, nearly tripping over my flank.

“Pablo came in here looking for a drink, and I came after him!” Enrique exclaimed. “And then when we found the waitress, I tried asking for the phone, while Pablo... Well, our parents insist that he does not drink until he is of age.”

“So you are too young to drink!” The waitress put a balled up fist in the crook of her hip. “Well out, all three of you,” she said.

“Hold on, I’m old enough to drink,” I said, “and I just want to use the phone. You have one?”

The waitress opened her mouth to answer, but a bellow from the other side of the biker club stopped her.

“What are you doing you little shit!?”

I poked my head out from behind the bar, joining Enrique and Pablo in a conjoined gaze of morbid curiosity. Across the way, Merille had his hand stuffed in a pie tin. In turn, a livid and burly biker had the offending arm in a deathgrip. The biker reached over with his other hand, gripping Merille by the shirt.

“That pie was mine, then you waltz in here and steal it!?” the biker roared. “I’mma show you what happens to idiots who come in here unwelcome.”

Merille struggled against the biker, his tail flagging from side to side until the biker ripped off his shirt. Taking a step back, Merille unwittingly dumbfounded the entire crowd when two technicolor baby blue wings flared out in a display of dominance.

For a few silent moments, the pega-man held the bikers to inaction as they tried to get a grasp on the situation. I was likewise stunned, left with only enough cognizance to become aware of the line of bikers at the bar that were leaning on their seats to switch their looks from Merille to Enrique, Pablo and myself.

“Those freaks are trying to take over!” the biker across the club yelled. He threw a haymaker punch at Merille, who ducked underneath it. The biker, inebriated as he was, failed to compensate for the dodge, and decked another biker behind Merille square in the jaw.

Pablo started to make for the door just as the club erupted into a fight fueled by booze and the bad choices of man, pony, and man-pony alike.

However, Pablo was stopped by an oak of a man stepping in front of him. Looking up to the man’s visibly enraged face, time slowed as he bent his neck, cracking it as he stood there in the sea of writhing and flailing limbs.

The timbers of his arms and hands balled into fists.

Wasting no time, I grabbed a beer pitcher on the bar and dashed it across his face. The liquid gold sloshed out and formed a puddle underneath him, tripping him from the loss of friction as he tried to recover from the blow and sending him toppling over to the ground.

Pablo looked over his shoulder to me.

“We’re even, run!” I yelled, sending him packing.

“Even?” Enrique asked.

“Not important!” I yelled, giving him a push start before breaking into a gallop.

The door just ahead, I magicked it open as Pablo and Enrique skidded to a halt in front of it. Seeing it open, they tried to kick off the ground as a biker fell, they launched, clipping the biker, and tumbled out as I galloped out behind them.

The others were all there, with Vinyl and Redheart standing near a van, along with two bikers.

I saw Merille, still shirtless, and in the full light of day, vaguely smurf-like due to his changed color. “What were you thinking!?” I yelled at him. “You just plunked us right into the middle of a bar brawl!”

Before Merille could even have a chance to respond, we heard a loud banging sound as one of the bikers hit the van with a pipe to get our attention. “I hope you know you’ve just been green-lighted. You know what that means?” He said in a menacing tone.

Before he could say another word, his buddy standing next to him punched him in the face. As the biker fell down in one punch, his buddy gave a thumbs up to Vinyl. Apparently Vinyl had a penchant for gaining friends in low places.

Vinyl hopped over the downed biker and looked up to the other one. “Thanks George. Now, how about helping us with getting out of here?”

The biker shook his head and reached into his pocket. “No, I gotta stay here and try to keep them from following right away.” He pulled out a set of keys and tossed them to Vinyl, who caught them in a field of magic.

Vinyl looked at Luis with a huge grin on her face and tossed the keys to him, “I’ll tell you all the story later, but for now, we need you to drive as fast as possible.”

Luis slid the door to the van open, and we clambered inside, grateful for the extra room that it provided. As Luis turned the key in the ignition, bringing the engine to a roaring start, the biker yelled out. “Go, little ponies! This is no place for you.”

Panting, I reared up and looked out the back window of the van as the bar shrank into the distance, with no sign of the bikers taking pursuit immediately. Ears folding down, I sat beside Pablo and Enrique near the front of the van.

“Pablo, Enrique,” I said, catching their attention. “We have got to be the luckiest, dumbest, most pitiful ponies to have ever made it through a situation like this day.” I took a final gulp of air, my heart coming to a rest from the veritable roller coaster that had started since the Waffle House. Pablo had managed to save both our hides back at the Waffle House, and Enrique had gone to help Zecora when I was too busy saving my own skin. “We’re in this together. Sorry for having been a jerk at times?”

I extended a hoof to them, glancing out of the corner of my eye to see the others too preoccupied to notice my gesture.

The two colts held out their hooves and smiled. “Sorry for when we've been annoying?” they said in unison.

Not long after, we heard Luis say, “Hey guys, looks like we’re getting one more surprise today. Looks like we now finally know who the hell Merille became.”

We all looked over the seat and found what was once Merille. Fast-asleep in the passenger seat, his pants were way too baggy for him, and his shoes lay on the floor of the van. His skin was now covered with blue coat, lighter than even my own. He was also the same size of the rest of us ponies. Sure enough, sitting in the passenger seat was now a pegasus pony who looked very familiar.

“Uhhh...” Snails worked his jaw for a moment, no doubt contemplating the situation for all it was worth, I knew I was. “Soarin?”

Author's Note:

Picture from the wonderfully talented chocolatechilla.

Comments

[Red Bomber]

Geez I wonder what Merille was thinking of going into a bar for some pie but now I understand why that happened. Now he was part of Vinyl's group right? Also, the ponies were about the size as the ponies in my story given the description of the others, I thought you guys were smaller than that.

[Westphalian_Musketeer]

2850567 Actually, I'm Canadian. This is one of several parts covered about the "semi" part of "semi-self-insert". In fact, my decision to have Harper not have a comment on parts of the population turning into ponies is precisely because he didn't re-open discussion on gay rights. I felt that there was an opportunity to get things to lay to rest with a final, candid discussion open to public scrutiny, and it didn't happen.

I'm also conservative, despite that issue.

It was a light-hearted, self-deprecating jab at my own allegiances, veiled and hidden to the point where readers got my actual nationality wrong.

2850597 Mmmm... Pie... Oh, sorry, yes, Merille was/is part of Vinyl's group. As for size, I peg the ponies at about waist-high in this story, but they have torsos about as big as a person, so sitting on the ground makes a pony and human about the same height... when sitting... Approximately.

[Firebirdbtops]

That was a bar filled with macho bikers. I'm shocked at how few bronies were there. I actually expected them to throw you a party.

[Joural]

2851254

the 'not re-open' was saying it wouldn't be discussed as being not legal. He was saying, clearly and openly, "We will not consider taking rights away from Canadian citizens." Unless you're one of those pro-marriage bigots, I don't see the negative to that. *le shrug*. I mean, think about it- the majority of Canadians are already on board for gay rights, and those who aren't, aren't going to change their minds because of another vote or anything(Also, even if, by some miracle, a law of that sort got passed, I'm pretty sure we have some precedents that would be used to take it down immediately). In other words, the situations, compared to each other, are this:
Gay people already have all the rights of any other citizen, and he refuses to re-open the issue, despite outside pressure.
Ponies have not been ruled on by any form of law, their rights are unclear, and their responsibilities are unclear. A ruling is required to determine how the law should react to them. Him refusing to make a statement or create a bill is essentially saying he's going to leave it to the legal system to work out for him, no matter how many lives that might wreck.

And Canadian Bro Fist GO! XD

weird fact- I didn't get a notification for that reply.

[Westphalian_Musketeer]

2863429 I just felt like if he had re-opened the discussion, nay-sayers could have had their fill, burned out, and then the issue could have been put to rest with the sanction of "We talked about this, twice, and came to the same conclusion."

Regardless, it was ultimately intended as a joke, with the humor primarily derived from the idea of a political leader having no comment on the most bizarre event conceivable.

[Joural]

2863637

Haha, yeah, okay, I just think about things too much. And so I comment on stuff. LOTS. WOOOOO.

Anyways, now to read another five stories! God there's just way too many of these fics I need to read bluuuh

[Flash_Magnus]

Yay,Soarin!

[reader238]

as soon as he had his hand caught in the pie tin and you said pega human I knew that he would be soarin awesome job

[Alondro]

Hmm, Discord's upping the ante.

However, he should be aware that when he doesn't abide by rules, he opens the doorway for others of phenomenal cosmic powers to do the same.

And some of us don't like him very much... he interferes with the balance, upsetting the nature of Ma'at! UNFORGIVABLE!!

guidesmedia.ign.com/guides/15972/images/Sekhmet.JPG

[Westphalian_Musketeer]

2936040 Yep.

[Westphalian_Musketeer]

3097174 The place is based on an actual place I've heard described, but of course I changed the name from what it is IRL. The 'Blacks' and 'Whites' fountains are pretty much word-for-word what I've heard visitors of the place describe.

3629487 Speciesists (racists, but against different species) do have a tendency to be rather large jerks.

[Kaffeina]

2852195 Me too.

[hollowsbest]

I'm in love with this story! I can't wait for more.

[Noctis Prism]

I like this and hope for more soon

[Blaze the draconic mage]

Pls make more