Flirtin' With Disaster
“So Bill, I was wondering. I came into a large pile of cash last night and I’d like to buy a nice fast car or two. What would you recommend?”
“It really depends on what you like. If you want outright speed, go with a European supercar like a Ferrari, Lamborghini, or Porsche. Not only will they go fast in a straight line, but most of them handle the curves just as easily as the straightaways. If you want something fast with aggressive looks and a rumbling engine sound, go with an American muscle car. And if you want a car with a horse related name that has style, speed, and just screams ‘untamable’ even fifty years later, go with a vintage Ford Mustang. For you, I’d go with a ’68 Shelby GT-500 or ’68 Mustang Cobra Jet personally. Treat the car with respect and it’ll do what you want it to do. Push it too hard and it’ll smash you into the nearest tree. Of course there are newer Mustangs that would fit the bill too – easier to drive but much more complicated to work on. And since I assume you’re taking it home with you, I suspect Equestria doesn’t have garages with computer diagnostics.”
“Yeah, good point.”
“But are you sure you really want to do this?”
“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”
“Have you considered replacement parts, new tires, gasoline, motor oil, etc.? Unless you’re planning on having it be a static display piece, you’re not going to have much use for it.”
“That won’t be a problem!” Pinkie Pie interrupted their conversation. “I’m always stopping by Earth a few times a day. All Dashie needs to do is give me a shopping list and money and I’ll get whatever she needs.”
“Does Equestria even have roads?”
“We have cobblestone…”
“That would be extremely hard on a car’s suspension.”
“We have a lot of dirt roads too.”
“Those would work better. And they’d be much more fun to drive on too, because dirt is slicker than asphalt. There are benefits to dirt and there are benefits to pavement. I’ll have to take you for a ride on a dirt track some time so you can get the hang of it.”
“I’d like that.”
“There’s one other downfall to cars. Gasoline isn't a clean burning fuel. There’s pollution to deal with. Not only do you have the exhaust, you also have used motor oil, antifreeze, and other chemicals to dispose of.”
“Oh, I think I might have a solution to that,” Twilight Sparkle announced her presence. “I spent a lot of time working on your racecar last night and I think I can convert an internal combustion engine to run purely on magic. No need for gasoline and no harmful emissions.”
Bill looked around and found himself surrounded by ponies once more. “How did I end up with all the ponies in my pit stall?”
“Easy Bill, because you’re the coolest driver out here!” Rainbow Dash motioned for him to give her a hoof bump but the perplexed driver just stared at her not knowing what she expected him to do.
“I up an’ got tired of listening to Jeff. I thought NASCAR was supposed to be the sport of the South, but so far you an' Dale are the only drivers I’ve met with a decent accent and the right work ethic. I get the feeling some of these guys have never even worked on their own cars,” Applejack did her best to answer the driver’s question. “And he kept trying to give me a ‘brushie, brushie’ whatever the hay that means.”
“I’m here because of this document. Mr. Earnhardt handed me this and said I couldn’t be around him any more. And then he had me escorted out of his pit area.”
“This is a restraining order, Rarity. What exactly did you do to Dale?”
“Nothing. We had a most enjoyable evening out on the town last night. And then…and then…” She couldn’t finish her thoughts and once more burst into tears, sobbing into Rainbow Dash’s right shoulder.
“What I think Rarity’s trying to say is that Dale wasn’t cool.” Rainbow looked at the wailing mare and wondered why she picked her shoulder to cry on. Literally, even.
“Um, I’m here because Kurt Busch’s team informed me I broke their star driver and that I’m too good of an influence on him. I didn’t mean to break him, I just thought he would be nicer if he learned how to love and tolerate others. I didn’t think that would hurt him. I’m so sorry!” Fluttershy sobbed into Rainbow Dash’s left shoulder.
Rainbow Dash rolled her eyes. At least this was a more familiar sensation. She patted each of the sobbing mares on the back with a wing.
“I’m here because hanging out with the rest of my friends is infinitely more entertaining than listening to Mr. Stewart attempt to burp the chorus of a Lady Gaga song. I must admit, I’m glad Spike isn’t here. He would have taken that as a goal to strive towards.”
“Jimmie Johnson got tired of me telling where he’s going to finish in today’s race. Oh, that reminds me, I need to go do that one last time before the race starts! Be right back!” Pinkie Pie disappeared in a pink blur.
“Fourteenth!” Pinkie Pie popped out of a stack of racing tires in the #48’s pit area. Several of his crew members ran to the stack to remove her, but by the time they got there she was already gone.
“As I was saying, Jimmie’s boring and he’s going to finish fourteenth no matter what he thinks he can do to stop it from being so.”
“Drivers, to your cars!”
“That’s my cue.” Bill climbed through the window of the NEMCO Camry.
“That’s my cue, too!” Rainbow Dash unfurled her wings and leapt into the sky. Twenty seconds later the sky above the speedway was decorated with a giant spreading rainbow and the ground shook from the massive sonic boom Rainbow Dash had just pulled off.
“Gentlemen, Danica Patrick...and Jimmy Spencer, start your engines!”
Out of view of prying eyes, the underside of Dale Earnhardt Junior’s Chevrolet stock car was glowing blue. “Make a fool of me and spread manure over all of my dreams? Well, let’s see how you like being toyed with, Mr. Earnhardt.” She allowed a malicious grin to cross her face – it wasn’t like there was anypony around to see it after all. Even a lady had to do her own dirty work from time to time. There were fewer witnesses that way.
Up in the broadcast booth, Darrell Waltrip and Buddy Baker were doing the color commentary for the race’s national television audience.
“And starting fifth is Jimmy Spencer in the #18 M&M’s Toyota. Mr. Excitement is filling in for Kyle Busch who’s currently incarcerated pending a bail hearing tomorrow morning. Because of the driver change he’ll have to drop to the rear of the field, joining Dale Earnhardt Junior who had to change engines after final practice and Jeff Gordon who’s car was completely decimated in an incomprehensible accident that also involved the SRT Viper safety car and the infield care center.”
“There seems to be an incident on pit road. The #88 is stopped and all of the other cars are going around him.”
“Is that the rear axle sitting out on the pit lane?”
“It sure does look like it, Buddy. Let’s check the replay. Wow, that looks like something you’d see in The Dukes of Hazzard!”
Dale Earnhardt started the engine of the National Guard/Diet Mountain Dew Chevrolet. As the car idled on pit road he thought back to his pranking of Rarity. “Got her good. Serves her right for making me start dead last in today’s race.” He shifted the car into first gear and stepped on the accelerator, and the car rolled forward slowly. “Huh, that’s odd.” It was almost as if something was holding the car back. He floored the gas pedal and car lurched forward before the rear of the car vaulted into the air as the rear axle was wrenched from underneath it. The car crashed back down to the pavement and Dale sat there stunned. Of course he knew who was responsible for this. “Clever girl.”
Rarity walked up to her friends. “Did I miss anything while I was using the little filly’s room?”
“Yeah! Dale’s car just went vroom! Then screech! Then boom!” Pinkie gestured her hooves wildly in imitation of the car’s movements.
“Oh, why that’s simply dreadful, darling. I mean, with the cars already on the track it’s far too late for him to go to a backup car and by failing to start the race he won’t collect any points or prize money.”
Dale marched up the pit road, looking for Rarity but Applejack and Rainbow Dash stopped him before he could reach Bill Elliott’s pit area.
“Stop right there, sugarcube.”
“Yeah, you got some paper that says Rarity can’t come within five hundred feet of you, and she’s exactly five hundred and one feet away from you right now. So you need to turn around right now. ‘Cause if you take one more step I’m gonna have to buck you right in the face.”
Dale thought back to what Rarity had said the night before about the defense mechanisms of the pegasi and earth ponies. As badly as he wanted revenge he valued leaving the track in one piece higher. Besides, perhaps the way he had presented the restraining order to her was more than slightly mean-spirited. “Fine. Tell her I’m sorry about the whole fake engagement thing and I forgive her for taking me out of the race. And that if she agrees to forgive me and forget for what I did I’m willing to do the same for her as long as it means we never have to speak to one another ever again.”
Rainbow Dash flew off to give Rarity the message and Applejack eyed the racecar driver warily. “It’s a right shame what happened. I’ll have you know I was kinda hopin’ y’all would win today. You’re real down to earth, and I like that.”
“Thanks.”
“What you’ve got t’ understand ‘bout Rarity is that she’s real big on being prim and proper. At least up ‘til someone crosses her. And then she makes life miserable for that pony, or in this case person. Normally she extracts her revenge slowly and so subtly that y’all wouldn’t even notice ‘til it’s too late. I guess she needed to go to extreme measures since we’re all set t’ go back t’ Equestria when the race is over. Y’all should see what she did to Rainbow after Dash left her stranded out in the desert last year.”
“What did she do?”
“She guilted her into modeling for her new line of dresses. And then after she got the photos she needed, blackmailed her into doing her bidding lest the photos should be published for everypony to see. Rarity has Dash so wrapped around her hooves now she wouldn’t dare cross her again. And Rainbow Dash is her friend. Now imagine what she’d do to someone she doesn’t necessarily like much.”
It was at this point that Rainbow Dash landed. “Rarity says, and I quote, ‘I know the road to riches, and I know the ways to fame. I know all the rules and I know how to break ‘em and I always know the name of the game.’ Loosely translated I believe she’s trying to say she gives generously but she can also take things away if she thinks her generosity is being taken advantage of.”
“I’ve heard those lyrics before. But where?”
“Oh, she mentioned that. A band you’re familiar with by the name of Air Supply.”
“Oh, right. That horrible band from the Ken Schrader CD incident… I got stuck listening to them for three and a half hours during the race. Not one of my happiest memories.”
“She also said to tell you ‘Checkmate, or perhaps since a ruffian like you would not be acquainted with the fine game of chess, that perhaps match, set, game would be more appropriate.’ I don’t know what you did to her but, uh, I’ve never seen her this mad. And I left her stranded in the desert outside Dodge Junction a year ago. With Pinkie Pie, at that… Heh, I’m just glad she’s still speaking to me at this point. Definitely not somepony I’d want to have as an enemy.” Her eyes darted back and forth and she added, “Again.”
Forty-two cars rolled out onto the track, led by Mark Martin in the #55 Aaron’s Dream Machine Toyota. The pace car pulled off the track and the field thundered across the start-finish line.
“Boogity, boogity, boogity, let’s go racin’!” Darrell Waltrip exclaimed in the broadcast booth.
“Looks like there’s a problem with the Furniture Row entry. Kurt Busch is just not up to speed at all.”
“Looks like he’s going now, Buddy. Maybe he missed a gear on the start?”
“Well, DW, he’s now in dead last as everybody else got by him on the start. He’s got a lot of ground to make up.”
Kurt Busch smiled. Everything was going just as planned. He’d just trail behind the field in last place to make everyone else feel better about themselves. Fluttershy would be so proud!
Up at the front of the field there was a three-car battle for the top spot between Mark Martin, Carl Edwards, and Jimmie Johnson. Jimmie was motivated and quickly moved the #99 Ford back to third place and set his sights on Mark Martin in the #55 Camry. The pink #48 Chevrolet dove to the inside of Martin through turn three but Mark had too much speed and Jimmie fell back behind him.
Towards the rear of the field, Bill Elliott was picking off slower cars one at a time. He had tried to follow the gaps made in traffic by Jeff Gordon but the Hendrick Racing #24 was just too fast to keep up with. But his efforts had not been for naught; he had worked his way up to thirty-second within the first ten laps.
“Well the good news is this is no longer a last place car.”
“That’s great Bill. But why do I feel a ‘but’ coming?” Twilight Sparkle was filling the role of crew chief for the #97 today. The headset was definitely not designed for equine use and she looked ridiculous wearing it.
“That’s because the bad news is this is a twentieth place car at best. Which I must admit is a huge improvement over how it’s been driving all weekend. You did amazing work, and I’m going to shoot for a top ten finish to do you all proud.”
“Well, if it’s not the fastest, time to win this race another way. Strategy!” exclaimed Twilight Sparkle.
As the race wore on, the field fillers started pulling off the track one at a time: Joe Nemechek, Michael McDowell, Scott Speed, and Landon Cassill all took their cars to the garage area within the first fifty laps. Engine troubles forced Travis Kvapil behind the wall, and Greg Biffle tagged the retaining wall, collecting Clint Bowyer, ending the day for both of them.
As the green flag fell after the Biffle wreck, Jimmie Johnson was leading Mark Martin, Kasey Kahne, Matt Kenseth, and Brad Keselowski. Tony Stewart was tenth, Jeff Gordon had worked his way up to fifteenth, Bill Elliott was twenty-second, and Kurt Busch continued bringing up the rear of the field as the last car still running. He was mired in thirty-fifth, five laps behind the leaders. Jimmy Spencer had already spun him out three times, yet despite that he was still having an enjoyable day cruising the Furniture Row Chevy stocker.
For his part, Spencer was enjoying himself too. He had no delusions of winning the race, yet he was giving it his all regardless. He had worked his way into the nineteenth spot and was thankful for the new ‘boys have at it’ policy that had not been in place the last time he had climbed behind the wheel of a Cup car.
The field gradually stretched out for a long green flag run. Jimmie Johnson continued setting the pace and slowly increased his lead over second place Mark Martin. Thus far he was proving the pink pony wrong. That motivation was driving him forward, ever faster. But Jimmie wasn’t the only car moving up, and the adjustments Twilight made to the car during the first round of pit stops had improved the NEMCO Toyota to the point where it was competitive. Bill had climbed to fourteenth in the standings, about half the length of the track behind the leaders.
Tony Stewart was also moving up through the field, running in the seventh position and steadily gaining on the sixth place #27 Chevrolet of Paul Menard. And Jeff Gordon had overcome having to drop to the rear of the field by climbing up to eighth.
Jimmie Johnson was a rational person. He kept telling himself that over and over again, letting the thought run through his head, repeatedly, “Cool. Calm. Collected.”
“Jimmie?”
“Yeah Chad?”
“We’re coming up on green flag pit stops.”
“Where am I running?”
“Jimmie, you’re still in the lead. You’re three seconds ahead of Keselowski.” The voice answering him was his long time crew chief, Chad Knaus.
“Where’s Stewart?”
“Tony’s running in seventh. Why?”
“He’s car fourteen.”
“Listen, Jimmie, the pink pony’s in your head. Just let it go, you got this. You’re gonna win!”
“I’m cool, calm, and collected. I’ve got this.”
“Fourteenth” Pinkie popped out of the racecar’s glovebox. This was quite a feat even by Pinkie’s standards considering the car hadn’t even had a glovebox when it took the green flag.
“Ahhhhhh! Get this crazy pony out of my car!”
“Keselowski’s closing. He’s outside. You’re running second. Martin’s coming up behind you. He’s to your inside. He’s clear. You’re back to third. Snap out of it and get back to driving.”
“Right, I’ve got to win! I’ve got to prove that stupid pony wrong! Cool! Calm! Collected!”
The spotter has one of the most important jobs during a race. The drivers are restrained to the point of having very limited mobility – turning to see what’s beside or behind them is virtually impossible. Even disregarding safety innovations, it’s never a good idea to focus on something other than the track ahead of you when driving 200 miles per hour. So the spotter serves as an extra set of eyes for the driver, advising them of their track position, what cars are around them and where, and accidents on the track.
Lake Speed stood atop the spotter’s tower watching the race below him unfold. He wasn’t sure how he had been talked into this, but then again, he was still trying to figure out how he had been roped into rebuilding the NEMCO #97 the night before. Bill, for his part, was driving a good but cautious race. It was easy spotting for him – the pastel blue car covered in rainbows was quite distinctive even in a sea of multi-colored racecars.
In the #97 pitbox, Delma Cowart, Phil Barkdoll, and Morgan Shepherd were all sporting the attire of crewmembers. None of them would actually be performing such duties, but NASCAR mandated that all competing teams must have a pit crew or be black flagged from the race, a rule that had been enforced with the field fillers since that fateful day in 2004 when James Finch fielded a car for Joe Ruttman to start and park without even an effort to keep up the appearance of being a legitimate entry in the race.
The conversation between Jeff Gordon and his crew chief sounded far too similar to the conversation that played out hundreds of times a day between five year-old girls and their parents.
“I want a pony.”
“Jeff…”
“I don’t care. I want a pony. I’m a four time Sprint Cup Series Champion. If I demand a pony I get a pony!”
“If you win the race, Rick Hendrick will buy you a pony.”
“A talking pastel unicorn pony.”
“I… I think we’re going to need to consult with a lawyer first as to whether that would constitute slavery.”
“Care A Lot, is a place we all can go...” Kurt Busch banged his head as much as possible to the music running through his head.
As did Tony Stewart. “Disco....disco Dash!”
Jimmie Johnson focused. He had fallen to third after the pink menace distracted him earlier, but that would be a simple matter to fix. His car was clearly the class of the field on this Sunday and he started closing the distance on Mark Martin as he raced down the back straightaway.
“Fourteenth!”
Jimmie looked around the car. No sign of Pinkie Pie. “Where are you this time?”
“Out here!”
Jimmie looked to his left, through the window net. He turned back to look at the track ahead of him and then did a double take staring at the pink mare outside his car window. She was running, backwards, and keeping up with the car easily at speeds nearing 200 miles per hour. “Why are you running backwards?” There were dozens of questions on his mind but this was the only one that came out.
“Because this is the backstretch, silly! I’ll turn around and run forwards on the front straightaway. I just wanted to remind you: fourteenth!”
Jimmie shook his fist at her but she was already gone. His spotter was screaming in his ear that Kasey Kahne and Carl Edwards had snuck by while he wasn’t paying attention but he tuned him out. No, there was only one way to prove the pink menace wrong.
“Pit this time by.”
Bill obeyed Twilight’s instructions and brought the NEMCO #97 into the pit area. Several other cars were already on pit road including Denny Hamlin, Paul Menard, and Mark Martin.
It was the strangest pit stop ever recorded but no one even noticed it. Before Twilight could levitate the Camry in the air, chaos broke loose on the track.
Keselowski continued to lead, while Kahne and Edwards moved into second and third, respectively, when Martin pitted. Johnson was fourth, followed by Tony Stewart. As Stewart came up to overtake Johnson on the outside, Jimmie cut the steering wheel to the right. He clipped the rear of Tony’s car sending it spinning into the retaining wall. The #14 Chevy slammed trunk first into the wall, pancaking the rear of the Office Depot car. Jeff Gordon dove to the low side of the track, narrowly avoiding disaster. Matt Kenseth wasn't as lucky, as Tony tagged him as his car slid down the banking. With no place to go, rookie Ricky Stenhouse Jr. spun trying to avoid the disabled cars of Stewart and Kenseth and was t-boned by Ryan Newman for his efforts. Newman, in turn, was rear-ended by the #9 Ford of Marcos Ambrose. At that point the track was completely blocked and a thick cloud of smoke obscured visibility.
When the carnage stopped twenty cars had been involved in the wreck, most of them totaled beyond repair. A few lucky drivers had weaved their way through the wreckage, but most of the cars that were still running were either ahead of the crash, well behind the wreck, or on pit road at the time.
In that regard, Bill had caught a lucky break – he was running right in the middle of the pack of cars that wrecked. The bad side was he lost a lap in the process. Making matters worse Twilight had dropped the car in surprise when she heard the cars start wrecking on the backstretch. She examined the car but was unable to locate any discernible damage.
The race was red flagged while the accident was cleaned up and also to allow NASCAR time to sort out the scoring. The cars parked on the front stretch and the drivers were allowed to get out of their vehicles until the delay was over. While the rules prevented changes from being made to the cars while they were under red flag conditions, there was no limit to discussing changes that could be made once the race resumed.
As Twilight and Bill discussed potential adjustments to the car, Rainbow Dash took flight over the track, surveying the wreckage. The backstretch looked more like a junkyard than a racetrack with cars and parts strewn everywhere. Track officials and emergency workers helped extricate the drivers from their cars. Most of the drivers had climbed out unaided but there was one car lying on its side that everyone was paying particular attention too. They were attempting to set it right side up with the aid of a tow truck. Thankfully the driver had indicated he was okay, just stuck inside the car.
With a thump, the car returned to its wheels and the rescue workers pulled him from the mangled machine. He saluted the fans and climbed into a waiting ambulance.
Tony Stewart stood next to the totaled remains of his Chevy, fuming. “When I find that there son of…”
“Tony! There you are. Are you okay?”
“Hey Rainbow Dash! Yeah, I’m fine but this here car’s torn up real good. I done need to find me Jimmie Johnson and have ‘words’ with him.”
As the #14 was hooked to a tow truck, Rainbow got a good look at the hood of the car – though bent, it was the closest thing to a straight body panel left on the car. Twilight’s sheepish grin looked back at her from the purple piece of sheet metal. “I don’t suppose you have any use for this any more, do you?”
“The hood? It’s too crumpled to use it again. You want it?”
“Yeah. I know an egghead who needs this hanging in her library.”
“Want me to autograph it?”
“Sure.” Rainbow Dash grinned – shopping for Twilight’s birthday gift had never been easier. And score, it was free to boot! Now if she could just sneak into the spa and buy a year’s membership for Rarity without getting roped into ‘the works’ by the twins, she’d be set.
“It’s yours. All I ask for in return is a favor. They’re making me ride to the infield care center… well, I mean the tent serving as an infield care center to get checked out to make sure that I’m okay. I need you to throw this at Jimmie Johnson’s car for me. Can you do that?” Tony handed the pegasus his racing helmet.
“I’ll do even better than that. Jimmie won’t know what hit him.” Rainbow Dash snickered. She flew over to the parked #48 Chevy and bucked the helmet into the front fender. It bounced off and she leapt into the air, intercepting it, and bucked it right back at the car. Jimmie tried to stop her but then decided against putting himself in the line of fire. NASCAR officials attempted to stop her, but she made a game out of it, letting them get close before zipping out of reach. By the time Rainbow was done, his car looked more like a golf ball than a racecar.
While the track was cleared of wrecked racecars and debris, the NASCAR officials were having discussion on the ‘boys have at it’ policy, and if Jimmie Johnson had crossed the line. With all of the other problems Jimmie had caused this weekend, most of the officials weren’t willing to cut him much slack.
“Park him.”
“Five lap penalty.”
“One on one cage match against Tony Stewart. We’ll put it on Pay Per View, of course.”
“We’ll make a fortune. Tony’ll mop the floor with him.”
“Set his final finishing position to fourteenth no matter where he finishes in the race!”
The officials turned to look to see who had suggested that but whoever had said it was gone.
“Have you seen what the rainbow pony did to his car? I say we send him back out there and laugh while he attempts to drive that thing.”
“Didn't Mythbusters do that to a car to test fuel mileage?”
“Yeah, they did.”
“What was the final outcome? If we send him back out there will it give him an advantage from fuel economy?”
“I don't remember, but I don't think it'll matter in this case. Those were carefully designed and accurately spaced dimples. This is a mish-mosh.”
“In that case I say we send him back out there with a five lap penalty.”
“Agreed.”
The race resumed and the cars started circling the track once more. Carl Edwards had assumed the lead after pit stops were completed, with Keselowski, Kahne, Danica Patrick, and Gordon rounding out the top five. The cars that had made green flag stops moved ahead of the cars that had pitted under yellow and on the last caution lap before the green flag flew they were waved around to rejoin the rear of the field, each driver making their lost lap back in the process. Years earlier they would have started the race leader in the middle of the pack and these cars would have had to fight valiantly to stay on the 'tail end of the lead lap' but too many accidents had happened that way, leading to the beneficiary rules now in effect. Bill Elliott restarted as the last car on the lead lap in sixteenth and Kurt Busch remained the last car still running, though he was still behind several of the cars that had crashed out.
The green flag flew and the twenty-one surviving cars resumed racing, with the exception of Jimmie Johnson. He sat in his pit stall, a NASCAR official standing directly in front of him. Once his five lap penalty was served he was allowed to rejoin the race, nearly losing another a lap as he brought the car up to speed. He rejoined the race in twentieth position.
“Ha! The pink menace was wrong!”
“Eh, I wouldn't say that.” Pinkie Pie munched on a carrot as she lounged on the racecar's newly installed rear seat. “The race isn't even at the halfway point yet so there's still a lot that could happen between now and the checkered flag! But look on the bright side!”
“Bright side?” Jimmie asked.
“Yes, what it means, Jimmie, is that you'll pick up six additional championship points compared to where you are right now! And I also totally slipped a Jimmy Means reference in there. Did you get it? Didja, didja? Was it too subtle? Twilight is always trying to tell me my jokes aren't subtle enough, but I don't want to go too far to the extreme. Because if I do that, no one will get them and then nobody will laugh and everyone will be like totally bummed out and junk and that would be a real downer for like, well, everybody!”
“You know, right about now I could use his 1991 sponsor.”
Jimmie's pleas for Alka-Seltzer fell on deaf ears as Pinkie Pie had already disappeared.
In the Furniture Row Chevy Kurt Busch was minding his own business. Sure, he was twelve laps down to the leader, but he was enjoying himself. It was just a nice Sunday drive for him.
“Look, Kurt, are you planning on racing at all today?” his crew chief asked over the radio. “Jimmy crashed out during that wreck so he's not going to be spinning you out again.”
“Nah, it’s such a lovely day for cruising.”
“I kicked the pony out of our pits you know. You can be aggressive again.”
“Don’t feel like it. And you go get Fluttershy back.”
“If I see Fluttershy again I’m gonna beat her.”
“Nobody beats Fluttershy!” Kurt screamed into the radio. “Anybody who messes with Fluttershy messes with me! What… What am I saying? I’m going to ram this racecar down her scrawny little throat!”
“Good news guys, Kurt’s back!” The rest of his pit crew cheered at that bit of good news.
“Where’s the pony?”
“I think she's in Bill Elliott's pit. Seems like all the ponies have congregated there. But how about you focus less on the stupid ponies and more on improving your track position?”
“I bet this has all been a conspiracy to make me look bad.”
“Bad news guys, Kurt’s back. This is not a drill!”
Kurt’s own pit crew dove for cover as the #78 careened down pit road out of control. He slammed the Chevy stocker into the wall separating the pit crews from pit road. Once the now smoking stock car came to a stop Kurt scrambled out of it as fast as possible and hopped the wall into the #97’s pit area.
“Okay ponies! Give me Fluttershy and I might let the rest of you live. Might.”
“Nobody’s gonna threaten Fluttershy with me here,” Rainbow Dash pressed her snout against Kurt’s nose.
“Oh good, I was hoping you’d be here too. I’m gonna rip your wings off and force feed them to Fluttershy. That’ll break her no eating meat policy.” Kurt reached back to take a swing at the rainbow-maned pegasus but his arm was restrained before he could bring it forward. He glanced at it and saw it was enveloped in a blue magical aura.
He looked around the pit stall – the white unicorn was gripping him magically. The orange pony had her back to him and was ready to buck at a moment’s notice. Somehow the blue pegasus had ended up behind him, ready to lift him off the ground, while the purple unicorn was standing firm in front of him, magic sparking from her horn. The pink pony had a cannon aimed right at him, and Fluttershy had disappeared from the pit stall entirely.
Making matters worse, most of the other race teams were converging on Elliott’s pit area and here he was getting his butt handed to him by colorful ponies. He was never going to live this down. Suddenly a burst of purple magic came from Twilight Sparkle and he found himself dangling upside down with a magical glow around him.
Rainbow Dash grinned, “Hey Pinkie Pie, have you ever heard of a piñata before?”
“No Dashie… what’s that?”
“A container filled with candy suspended over a bunch of ponies with sticks. Oh look, I just found some sticks. Anyone got some candy we can feed Mr. Busch?”
“Now Rainbow, there’s no need to get violent,” replied Twilight Sparkle. “Tempting though it might be.”
“Hey, he was going to hurt Fluttershy.”
“Right, and now he can’t, so the situation is resolved.”
“You’re going to have to let him go eventually.”
“Not until Brian France gets here. He can resolve this matter.”
Kurt was still struggling with all his might but he wasn’t making any progress.
As the pit crews converged on the NEMCO pitbox, they were astounded. “Are we supposed to be saving the ponies from Kurt, or Kurt from the ponies?”
“The first, why?”
“Cause it looks like they have the situation well in hand.”
“Well in hoof, darling,” Rarity corrected him. “Rarity, charmed to meet you both. Would one of you dears mind finding Brian France to act as a mediator before this gets ugly? I’m not sure just how long the rest of us can keep Rainbow Dash restrained.”
It wasn’t long before the reporters showed up, and the ponies took great delight in posing with the helpless driver as cameras clicked picture after picture.
“Um, Mr. Busch? I, uh, I know you’re pretty upset with me.”
“Run and hide when there's a threat and then come out when it’s safe. Yeah, you’re a coward all right,” Kurt spat at her.
“Yes, actually, I am. I abhor violence and fighting of any sort. But I’ve come to apologize to you.”
Kurt laughed, “You expect me to believe that? You’re just gonna gloat now that I can’t do anything about it.”
“No, I’m not. I really had no right to use my power on you. But you were threatening my friend Rainbow Dash, and I wasn’t going to let you get away with that. For the record, you requested me to Stare you a second time.”
Kurt grimaced, remembering the previous night’s conversation.
“But I have no right to interfere with the free will of another, and for that I’m truly sorry. But you were so happy, and you seemed like you were enjoying yourself. You’re not a bad person. You just have some anger management issues. You need help. Real help, not something forced on you.”
“I think I’d rather you just gloat and get it over with.”
“No, Kurt. You showed you know how to be kind to everyone this weekend. You showed generosity towards us all by treating us to dinner. I think if you would embrace this side of yourself, you would like yourself more.”
“You, the blue flying pony. Hit me with your stick.”
Rainbow Dash grasped the stick in her mouth and flew up to be face to face with Kurt. “No,” she said, spitting out her stick. “Fluttershy’s right. We resolve our differences by talking about them.” She grinned and continued, “And sometimes we even hug.” She embraced the driver over his protests, whispering to him, “Because I know the humiliation from this is going to cause you far more pain than the stick would.”
“You’re evil!”
“Sheesh! You hug a guy and he calls you evil,” Rainbow Dash pouted towards the gathered reporters.
“I think she’s going to cry! Kurt made the pretty little rainbow pony cry! That’s not right!”
Rarity put a foreleg around Rainbow Dash in an embrace. While those around them thought they were hugging, she whispered to the prismatic pegasus, “You’re a manipulative genius.”
“Thanks. You’re up,” Rainbow Dash whispered back to the purple-maned unicorn.
“Ladies and gentleman of the press, darlings, I do believe we should make some sort of statement about what’s gone on here. Kurt had a little driving mishap on pit road and managed to crash into Bill Elliott’s pit stall. The good news is no one is hurt. He seemed a little disoriented from the crash and he reacted hostilely towards our efforts to help him, which is why he finds himself restrained in midair for the moment. I’m sure everything will be much better once he calms down and can get some medical attention. He probably bumped his head in the crash.”
“Nah, he always acts like this,” replied one of the reporters.
“And you media jerks wonder exactly why I don’t like you.”
“First you reject the ponies’ offer of friendship and now you’re calling us names. You do realize that come tomorrow you’re going to be the biggest laughingstock in all of sports, right?”
“I know! Why do you think I’m so angry?!?”
“Now, now, I’m sure there’s something we can do to intervene on Mr. Busch’s behalf,” Rarity said.
“They’re even coming to your rescue, Kurt!”
“I hate them! Stupid ponies!”
The reporter patted Rarity on the head, “Don’t worry little pony, he won’t try hurting you any more.”
Rarity rolled her eyes, “Right, because we managed to turn the tables on him when he attacked us.”
“So he did try and attack you! Thanks!”
“Wait, oh my…” Rarity said, blushing. “Well, I guess the cat’s out of the bag now, Mr. Busch. My sincerest apologies.”
“You’re the worst of them all!”
Now it was Rainbow Dash’s turn to put a comforting hoof around Rarity, “Don’t worry Rarity, he’s just angry right now. He doesn’t really mean it.” Rarity turned on her waterworks and started sobbing uncontrollably into Dash’s shoulder. Dash whispered to Rarity, “That was incredible, you manipulated Kurt and the media both.”
“Darling, you may be a manipulative genius but I was manipulating ponies long before you learned the meaning of the word,” Rarity whispered back. “Thank you so much, Rainbow Dash. You’re always such a comfort to me in my times of need!” she said, louder, for the benefit of the media. She levitated her fainting couch over and flopped on it. “But I think I need to be alone for awhile. You understand darlings, don’t you?”
After being assured that the ponies could handle things, the gathered crowd dispersed.
Several NASCAR officials finally arrived and Kurt was released into their custody, despite his best efforts to break free. He was escorted to the big red trailer for a meeting with Brian France.
“Fluttershy, that was a beautiful heartfelt apology. I’m sorry he didn’t accept it.”
“Me too, Twilight,” Fluttershy stared at the ground.
“Don’t beat yourself up over it.” Twilight wrapped a foreleg around the yellow Pegasus. “From what I read he’s always been arrogant, self-centered, and egotistical. There’s nothing you could have done about it. Rainbow Dash, Rarity, excellent job with damage control.”
“Thank you, darling.”
“Yeah, yeah. I still would have preferred beating him with that big stick.”
“I think we've done enough damage and made a bad enough impression here without adding assault to the list of things that have already gone wrong this weekend.”
“Not all of that has been our fault, sugarcube. Well, a good chunk of it has been Pinkie's fault, but a lot of us have had to deal with hostile drivers too.” Pinkie Pie stuck her tongue out at Applejack. “Hey, I hate t' say it, but it don't make it any less true.”
Pit road remained closed while the Furniture Row Chevy was towed to the garage area. Phil, Morgan, and Delma cleaned up the #97's pit stall, clearing it of debris left over from the wrecked car.
“Twilight?”
“Yes Mr. Speed?”
“We've got rain coming. If we make it past halfway the race is official and they can call it.”
They were still under caution, and only sixteen laps away from the halfway point. Bill had moved up to the eleventh position, while Carl Edwards was still leading the pack.
“We can't win a rain-shortened race. Rainbow Dash.”
“Yes?”
“Weather duty. We've got rain on the way. And it's up to you to stop it.”
“You can count on me!”
Rainbow Dash soared through the clouds, twisting and bucking them. But she was quickly finding out that the clouds on Earth behaved even more unpredictably than those in the Everfree Forest. She couldn't break them up nearly as well as she would have liked, so she instead settled for shoving them off course. “I really could use some help from the rest of the weather team right now,” she thought, sighing. “Yo, Fluttershy. A little help?”
“Oh, um, coming.”
With a great deal of effort the two pegasi managed to keep the rain away from the superspeedway. A few drops spattered against the windshields of the cars but it wasn't enough to moisten the track and the race remained under green flag conditions.
“Just a few more.” Rainbow Dash had managed to move the storm to the north of the track, mostly by flying rapidly to change the wind's direction and speed. The stray lightning bolt struck her out of the blue and she dropped like a rock towards the desert below.
“Rainbow Dash!” Fluttershy flew after her stricken friend, catching her a few yards above the ground. “Help!”
Twilight Sparkle stood there watching in horror as Rainbow Dash plummeted to the ground. She teleported to where the two pegasi had landed. “How bad is she?”
“I...I don't know. I had to give her mouth-to-mouth resuscitation to get her heart started again.”
“First of all, my heart never stopped beating. Secondly, one does not use tongue when giving mouth-to-mouth.”
“Oh. Um.... oops?”
“You're all right?”
“I wouldn't say that. That thing fried me good. Thankfully pegasi bodies are insulated pretty well. This sort of thing happens periodically. I'll walk it off and be fine.” She got to her hooves but immediately collapsed to the ground. “Or maybe I'll take a breather for a few minutes first.”
“But Equestria's lightning is magical and Earth's isn't. We're getting you immediate medical care, Rainbow Dash.” Twilight teleported Rainbow, Fluttershy, and herself to the infield care center tent.
Pinkie Pie and Applejack ran to the tent to check up on Rainbow Dash, but Rarity stood atop the pitbox, desperately wanting to check up on her friend but unable to do so since Bill was soon due for another pit stop.
“Are you Rarity?”
“Yes.”
“Perhaps we can be of assistance?”
The unicorn turned to see seven men dressed in the very familiar colors of the #88 team. “And I should trust you why?”
“Look, Dale's really sorry about what he did. He saw what happened to your friend and he sent us over to help. We can pit the car for you.”
“Thank you, darlings. If you do a good job I will forgive him entirely for what happened and offer my own apology as well.”
“Rainbow, darling, how are you?”
“Miserable. This is the second time this weekend I've had a team of doctors poking and prodding me.”
“Technically that first team was actually comprised of equine veterinarians.”
“And I'm sure they're great with livestock, but to me, they were just monkeys in lab coats. How's Bill doing?”
“He's up to ninth and he's running lap times consistent with that of Mark Martin, who's currently leading the race. Dale volunteered his pit crew to help out so I could come visit you. I have him totally wrapped around my hoof now.”
“You have a bad habit of doing that to ponies... and people.”
“Really? Oh my, that reminds me. Why I have the most delightful photos of Rainbow Dash to show you, Pinkie Pie.”
“Don't you dare.”
“Sorry, I can't hear you. I'm too busy looking in my saddlebag for those pictures.”
Rainbow Dash mumbled something barely audible.
“What was that, Rainbow dear?”
“I said 'Rarity is best pony.'”
“Why indeed I am, darling. Thank you so much for pointing out the obvious; I do wish more ponies felt that way. And oh dear, I'm quite sorry, Pinkie, darling. I just can't find those pictures I wanted to share with you. I must've misplaced them. You understand of course.”
“Of course I understand, Rarity!” She added in a much lower voice, “This is like those pictures you have of me... right?”
“Yes.”
Pinkie whined at the thought of her most private moments on display for all her friends to mock her. I only did it that once, just to try it. I mean everypony does it, so what makes it so scandalous that I did it? Why, Rarity does it herself and nopony ever makes fun of her for it. But no, Celestia forbid the sugar rushing over-caffeinated party pony be caught eating vegetables and drinking water.
While the ponies were indisposed at the medical facility, Dale's pit crew serviced Bill's car quickly and returned him to the race once more. He was up to eighth place now and rapidly gaining on Paul Menard. He dropped to the inside of the Menards Chevy and set his sights on Jeff Gordon. This was the most fun Bill had had in a racecar in years.
Two seconds ahead of Bill, in the #24 Chevrolet, Jeff Gordon was still fuming about his lack of a magical talking unicorn. His crew chief interrupted him mid-rant.
“Jeff, pit this time by.”
“What? Why?”
“You’ve been black flagged.”
“What? Why?”
“You picked up a hitchhiker.”
“I did no such thing.”
An upside-down pink face slowly crept into Jeff’s field of vision. “Hi Jeff! Could you go a little faster please? I’m trying to ghost ride the whip!”
“That’s it. I’m selling my ponies. I think I’ll start collecting Care Bears instead.”
The #24 Chevy made a pit stop, but it was for nothing. Pinkie Pie had already disappeared.
In the #48, Jimmie Johnson was resigned to his fate of finishing fourteenth. Danica Patrick had fallen out, moving him up to nineteenth in the running order, several laps behind the eighteenth place car.
“Awww, cheer up, Jimmie! Fourteenth isn't that bad. I mean, it beats finishing dead last, doesn't it?”
Jimmie just wanted to cry. “Why won't you leave me alone?”
“Because you're my driver, silly-willy! I mean, I totally wanted to root for Jimmy Spencer 'cause he's Mr. Excitement but he fell out of the race in that big pileup earlier. So I'm here to offer you moral support! Because that's what friends do for one another!”
“We're not friends.”
It was the wrong thing to say. “We're...not...friends?” Pinkie's smile deflated. “But I'm totally friends with everybody. I mean, we hang out.”
“Not by choice.”
“No. No, no, no, no, no.” Pinkie's hair started deflating. “This isn't happening again.”
“Again?” Jimmie looked at the depressed mare. For the first time since meeting her he actually feared for his life.
“Shhh, it'll all be okay. I'll just make new friends to replace you.” She twitched. “Isn't that right, Wheelie?” She started stroking the side of the steering wheel. “Yes, you're a good friend.”
Jimmie felt the car break loose as the pink pony played with the steering wheel. “We're friends, we're friends!”
“Pinkie Promise?”
“I Pinkie Promise! Just let go of the steering wheel!”
“Yay!” She squealed. “Bestest ever best friends forever and ever!”
“Yes, yes.”
Pinkie enveloped the driver in a tight hug. “You don't know how much this means to me! We'll be together forever!”
“Wait... what?”
“You Pinkie Promised!”
“What did I get myself into...?”
The ponies returned to the NEMCO pit area and Rarity dismissed the National Guard/Mountain Dew pit crew. “Thank you, darlings. Please send along my apologies to Mr. Earnhardt and extend an offer for him to stop by for a hug before I leave to return home to Equestria. If he can find it in his heart to get rid of that ridiculous restraining order.”
With so few cars remaining in the race, there were fewer cars to cause accidents or spill debris onto the track. The result had been another long green flag run that had nearly brought the field to scheduled pit stops yet again.
“We can't afford any mistakes on this pit stop,” Twilight said. “Bill, bring the car in this time by.”
“Okie dokie lokie.” Bill slowed the Toyota to the pit road speed and brought the car in for service. Twilight levitated it off the ground and Rarity's magical aura gripped all of the lugnuts, removing them and all four old tires in under a second. Applejack bucked four new tires over the pitwall and Rainbow Dash flew around the car, scooping up the old tires. Rarity placed the new tires on the car and tightened the lugnuts. Twilight released her grip on the car and placed it gently onto the pit lane and gave the signal to go. “What about gas?”
“It's in there. Just go.”
“Okay,” Bill replied, leaving the pit stall. In all, his pit stop had taken less than five seconds. After the other drivers made their stops he picked up an additional three positions on the track as a result of the speedy service. He was now third, behind only Mark Martin and Carl Edwards. But as the laps continued to tick off, it became apparent that Bill's car wasn't good enough to catch either of them.
“According to my calculations we're going to come up ten laps short on fuel.” Phil Barkdoll handed a slip of paper to Twilight, who scanned it.
“Will everyone else need to pit too?”
“Yes. But there's bound to be someone who gambles and attempts to go the whole distance. Of course, if we get a caution flag that strategy goes out the window.”
“Either way the other teams have seen how fast we can make pit stops now. They'll just opt to take gas and we'll still be stuck behind them in track position. So we're just going to go the whole distance. No more stops.”
“Are you insane?”
“Nope. I have one last card to play.”
“Oh, Paul Menard's about to spin!” Pinkie Pie bounced up and down, shaking various parts of her body.
“On it.” Twilight shifted her focus to the track where she corrected the #27 Chevy before the rear end could break completely loose.
“Debris in turn three.”
“No problem, Lake. Got it.” Twilight's horn glowed purple and the debris was removed from the racing surface.
With ten laps to go Mark Martin pitted, turning the lead over to Carl Edwards. Edwards pitted two laps later, giving Bill Elliott the lead for the first time in the race. All of the cars behind him pitted as well and soon he was running a lap ahead of everyone else in the field.
“Don't pit. And don't slow down. You've got this, Bill.”
“Are you sure?”
“100%. I promise you that your car won't run out of gas.” Twilight's horn glowed as she teleported Sunoco racing fuel directly into Bill's fuel cell.
Bill crossed the finish line first. For the first time in nearly a decade, he had won a Sprint Cup Series race. The crowd was ecstatic.
No other drivers were on the lead lap, and second place was awarded to Mark Martin. Denny Hamlin, Carl Edwards, and Paul Menard rounded out the top five. Sixth through tenth were Brad Keselowski, Ken Schrader, Kasey Kahne, Martin Truex, Jr, and Kevin Harvick. Jimmie Johnson crossed the start/finish line in fifteenth place.
As Bill Elliott was thanking his sponsors, fans, team, and the ponies in Victory Lane, Jimmie Johnson sat in his racecar and cried tears of joy. He hadn't finished fourteenth after all! For the first time in his career he was thrilled to finish in such a low position. “She was wrong!” He giggled. “The pink menace was wrong!”
Pinkie Pie tapped him on the shoulder. “Bad news. Kevin Harvick's car didn't pass post-race inspection. They dropped him to last car running. That bumps you up to...”
“Fourteenth.” He said it bitterly. Despite all odds the blasted pink pony had been accurate.
“It's been a blast hanging out with you, Jimmie. I guess I'll see you for that bridge dedication as soon as I pull some strings and make it happen.” She hugged the weeping driver one final time before dashing off to the epic Victory Lane party. Sonic rainbooms were already lighting up the sky with color as Rainbow Dash celebrated. “I brought snacks!” Pinkie said as she tossed cupcakes into the crowd at random.
“Rarity?”
“Dale! You came!”
“Yes, I, well, I wanted to apologize for earlier. It was a nasty thing for me to do to you and I'm sorry.”
“And I apologize for taking you out of the race, darling.” She wrapped a foreleg around Dale. “Now, before I leave, how about we stop by that strip club again? I've been thinking about it and I can't blame those girls for wanting to tear such gaudy outfits off their bodies. I mean Twilight Sparkle, the poor fashion-impaired dear, could design better outfits than that. Applejack could... okay, I've seen what Applejack can do with full access to my shop and equipment. She can't design something better than that, but you get the idea. So I was thinking I could design them some outfits they wouldn't want to take off. Wouldn't that be great?”
“Uh, I think that defeats the purpose...”
“Nonsense! They just don't know what they're missing. Now come along, Dale. We still have yet to find you a proper girlfriend. We can do that while we're out.”
Within seconds of apologizing Dale regretted doing so.
Before they could leave the track, however, they were intercepted by Jeff Gordon. His eyes wild, Jeff grabbed Rarity around her barrel. “Mine!”
“I am most certainly not yours, Mr. Gordon. I am my own, thank you very much.”
“Pretty unicorn pony. I'll love you forever!”
Dale slipped away from the pony and his teammate.
“While the sentiments are appreciated, I'm afraid I must return home to Equestria.”
“I'll come with you!”
“No, I'm afraid you can't.” She grabbed Jeff in her magical aura and levitated him away from her. “Now please be a dear and find somepony else to harass.”
“But I want you! The pretty unicorn with great taste and sophistication. I always knew something was lacking in my life but I didn't know exactly what until I met you. Now I know I need you as my pet!”
“Pet?”
“Um... equal?”
“Get out of my sight, Mr. Gordon.”
Kurt Busch sat across from a very irate Brian France. “Yeah, yeah, I know. I'm suspended for a race and anger management counseling. Again.”
“You know, if we've had this discussion so many times previously you can already guess what your punishment is, perhaps we should start harsher punishments.”
“Boys have at it.”
“Doesn't apply to pit road, pit crews, or magical talking ponies.”
“If I ever get my hands on Fluttershy again her severed head's going to end up in your bed.”
“Kurt, let me give you a bit of free advice. See this?” He passed a stack of paperwork over to the disgruntled driver. “This is a list of everything the ponies destroyed while they were here this weekend. If you're looking to commit suicide, by all means pick a fight with them. But if you'd like to stay alive, I highly recommend getting over it and moving on.”
Kurt grumbled but said nothing.
“Exactly. You're suspended for Bristol next week. Maybe we can get Jimmy Spencer to fill in for you.”
Kurt flipped Brian off as he left his office.
Tony Stewart sat in his RV listening to Disco Dash and playing with the cars in the diorama Twilight had made. “Man, I'm gonna miss those wild party animals. This was more fun than winning the championship!” The cars tumbled around like Hot Wheels cars as he continued playing.
Stats
Page generated in 0.017 seconds
Total duration
1,020 users online
203,959 hits today, 1,996,409 yesterday
FIMFiction
My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic Fanfiction
Designed and coded by knighty & Xaquseg - © 2011-2024
Follow & Support Us
Support us
SubStar
Chat!
Discord
Follow us
Twitter
MLP: Friendship is Magic® - © 2024 Hasbro Inc.®
Fimfiction is in no way affiliated with or endorsed by Hasbro Inc.®
(skims)
*Sounds the siren at the Dawsonville Pool Room*
(will come back to read the rest later)
A lot of good moments to cap off a good fic…
“Gentlemen, Danica Patrick...and Jimmy Spencer, start your engines!”
I was like "awe" from Rainbow supporting her friends with a winghug...then I burst out laughing at that line.
Pinkie seen "American Graffiti" one too many times.
Loved Tony’s “Go hit Jimmie’s car with this bit.” I laughed that he's plotting to outsource his revenge.
I missed Pinkie’s Jimmy Means joke but I caught Jimmie’s. Either way ole Smut would be proud…I think.
“Bad news guys, Kurt’s back. This is not a drill!”
“We warned you”- said the officials in the Pennzoil, Miller Lite, and Crown Royal hospitality tents all in unison.
Part of me wonders if Twilight’s efforts to extend the green flag run and teleport in fuel at the end constitutes cheating. Of course since there is nothing in the NASCAR rulebook about unicorns (I think, that thing is way too private) I’m sure they're fine…until the rulebook is amended against it next week.For now Frankie Stoddard and Jeff Burton welcome her to the “Creative Interpretation of the Rules” club.
Great to see Mark Martin do well in his little cameo. I miss seeing him on the real track this year but I hope he’s enjoying his well-earned retirement.