1200 HorsePower at 255 mph all controlled by Pinkie. What could possibly go wrong?
Pinkie is secretly a master thief. After coercing the keys to a hypercar from a drunken man at a club she proceeds to drive off with his car, a Bugatti Veyron Grand Vitesse. She meets a new friend along the way of her adventures who she can truly relate to.
The walls pulsated with dance music around Pinkie, her internals vibrated to the intense beats laid down by the massive subwoofers at Vinyl's setup. She felt at home, she was one with the partying around her. Unfortunately she wasn't at the club to enjoy drinks or dance like she normally did.
For the past few days she had scoped out a new person to the party, a man with a gold Rolex and Oakley sunglasses that he wore at all times. He dressed nicely, sporting a casual black business suit and refined black leather shoes. He seemed to be visiting Ponyville from a place quite a ways away, but he had shown up about a week ago, indicating his new found residence in the happy town.
Pinkie had done this before, she knew a guy who ran a shop south of the Crystal Empire who bought 'hot' cars. She had an issue with stealing, a bit of an obsession that had overwhelmed her the first time she was roped into heisting a BMW off a tow yard. She had given that very same car to Twilight for her birthday, with a new VIN, paint, and body kit of course. It could be found sitting outside Twilight's tree in the middle of town most days, boasting it's refinement and power.
Pinkie did this with most of the money she made off the cars actually, hosting parties for her friends with incredible settings or shows with them. The extra money also allowed her to maintain her bouncy, eccentric, and care-free attitude even with a dead end job like hers at Sugarcube Corner. Tonight she was serious. Her normal flamboyance had left her as she focused on the task at hand.
She knew which car was his, a black car with a red undertone on it with a strange brand symbol on the back that appeared to be a backwards E connected to a B. She was certain it was exotic, it stood out among the other cars parked outside, asserting it's presence like a shotgun in a church.
She watched the man as he sat at the bar. She had been counting his drinks and noted how much alcohol he had in him. He was on his twelfth scotch glass. Pinkie figured it was a safe bet to approach him now.
She headed over to the bar where the man was sitting.
Pinkie watched the gold on the man's arm reflect light from the bar as he raised a scotch glass to empty it. She assumed her normal demeanor and put a large, silly smile on her face as she approached the man.
"Hiya!" she said giddily, "I'm Pinkie Pie! Mind if I sit with you?" she asked this in her normal personality. This was the easiest part for her to play and it normally got her what she wanted.
"Fuck off." the man said bluntly as he motioned for another drink. She had dealt with this before, and applied her expertise to the struggling fish on the end of her line. She sat down beside him anyway and ordered a scotch for herself.
"Dinchu ear me?" he said with his words slurring into one another. Pinkie put her hand on his thigh, rubbing up and down gently as she worked the man.
"I know, I know," she said, "but I was watching you from over there," she gestured openly to where she had been sitting, showing off some cleavage as she did, "and you just looked sooo lonely." She batted her eyes at him a little. Drunks were always the easiest to get to comply with what she wanted, for good reason too. The man eyed her for a moment, trying to make his brain assess the full situation. Upon his brain's refusal to process anything he handed to it, he decided to trust his 'gut'.
"Mebe I em a tad lonely" he spoke with a slightly foreign accent, but it was severely dulled by the alcohol. "Whidunchu cum sit" he patted his lap as he said this. Pinkie reeled the fish closer to the shoreline as the hook set deeper and deeper.
"Sure," she said as she sat on his lap, "why don't you tell me about yourself?" she asked. The man smiled. This was something that was the same with all hyperrich people, even drunk, they loved to talk about themselves.
The man went into a drunken montage of how he had graduated school with a business degree and gotten a job as a CEO at some pharmaceutical company that Pinkie thought she vaguely recognized. He talked about how hard he'd worked while he was there, and how recently he'd taken a 'leave of absence' to have some 'time to think'. Pinkie played her normal personality, happy and interested, popping jokes here and there to be more likable. She also played seductively, to ensure her closeness with the man.
After an hour of enduring his tirade, he finally finished, so drunk he could barely see straight. Pinkie smiled at him and leaned down to whisper in his ear.
"How about we head back to your place for some fun?" she asked in a playful manner. The man smiled and pulled out his wallet to pay his tab. Pinkie got up in the process and 'accidentally' knocked over her own, untouched glass onto the mans lap.
"Oh shoot! I'm sorry" she said to him a perfect concerned look on her face. The man just smiled as he laid a few hundreds on the counter and stood up. Drink fell off his lap and ran down his pant legs as he did so, but he didn't seem to mind too much.
"Why don't you go get that cleaned up real quick?" Pinkie asked, he nodded in agreement, saving himself the trouble of forming speech and started to walk off before she stopped him. "Also, it's a cold night out," it was, in fact, eighty-three degrees Fahrenheit outside, "why don't you let me warm up your car for you while you get cleaned up." The man thought for a moment, or at least tried to, and then smiled and pulled his keys out of his pocket and forked them over.
Pinkie pulled the big fish over the embankment and shoved it inside her net, laughing crazily.
Pinkie went to the parking lot and ran over to the car, she wasn't sure how fast it was so she hurried to make sure she could put some distance between her and the bar. The car looked luxurious, so Pinkie was a little nervous that it wouldn't be a very good go-fast vehicle.
She unlocked it and got in the driver's seat, throwing the keys in the other as she shut the door. She pushed the button for the ignition and the engine quite literally roared to life. Pinkie smiled as she listened to it's sixteen cylinders hum happily around her. She put the car in reverse and slammed on the gas pedal, but quickly let off as the car lurched backwards. She shoved it into drive and slammed the gas again, accelerating to nearly sixty miles an hour before she exited the parking lot, drifting a bit as she turned left onto the road. She was stunned by it's power, and then suddenly noticed one of the gauges on the dash was for horsepower.
Leaves were pulled off Twilight's tree by the suction created from a red-black object that zipped by. It decelerated quickly to distinguish itself as a car only long enough to make a hard left turn onto a road that headed out of town.
Pinkie was smiling from ear to ear as she slammed the gas again, sinking into the seat as the incredible acceleration took over. She slapped a paddle, and shifted the car into third gear. She was traveling at 165 miles an hour down a straight stretch of road that brought her out of town. As she went by, lights in houses came on and people walked out to see if jets were flying overhead.
She giggled helplessly as she shifted even higher, heading out into countryside where the turns were wide and banked. The speedometer read 215 as she pushed the car even harder, turning the wheel lightly as she went around her first curve. Everything outside the windows was a complete blur as she hurtled past at speeds the road had never seen before. The speedometer touched 240 and Pinkie melted in her seat from the adrenaline. She was having trouble keeping up with the car's pure and undeniable speed as she pushed past another curve, riding on the outer edge of the embankment.
She gripped the steering wheel and looked ambitiously at the straight road in front of her. She had always hit the cars max speed by the time she had reached this road, but obviously this one was different. It had the acceleration to have been at it's top speed ages ago, but Pinkie hadn't pushed it there yet for fear of running off the road or somehow miraculously gaining lift and flinging herself into orbit. She laid the gas pedal on the floor and the speedometer immediately began to climb rapidly.
"245...250...255......", the acceleration had stopped. She looked quizzically at the speedometer. She could feel the engine behind her itching to go faster, the car dying to reach it's full potential. Pinkie looked back at the road and realized she was mere feet away from the next turn already. Doing her best not to panic she lightly drew the wheel over as she entered the turn, her giddiness somewhat depleted at the letdown of the car. It was travelling at incredible speeds, but she knew it could do much, much more. It left her wondering why an ubercar like this had a limiter set so low compared to the engine's power.
The dash made a noise and she looked down as she pulled the car into another straightaway, accelerating back to 255 mph. The gas light was on and the tank was showing only about 1/16 left.
"What great gas mileage!" she said sarcastically as she pulled into a station only 30 miles outside of Ponyville. The car decelerated quickly, jerking her forward as she slowed down. She pulled it over to a pump and got out of the car. She looked around to ensure there were no police following her out of town, but, as she suspected, she was the only one on the road at this time of night.
"He's probably still looking around for me back at the club." Pinkie smirked as she pulled the nozzle out of the pump and put it in the tank's opening. She resumed her normal eccentricity as she filled the car, skipping around and balancing on a parking space line as if it were a balance beam. She heard a noise from near the car, so she headed back over to it, assuming it was done pumping. As she approached the car, she heard another noise, this one being the pump itself actually finishing. She stopped in her tracks, and listened intently.
Another sound like scuffling sounded from in front of the car, and she saw a figure appear moving toward her quickly. The station was dimly lit, so it was impossible for her to make out the person moving towards her, but she assumed they weren't interested in making friends.
Pinkie slid a concealed combat knife from it's sheath in her boot. She wore the boots and knife at all times, itching for an excuse to cut someone up. The figure came within grappling distance as she pulled the knife out. She threw it in the air, dodging a hit from the assailant. She pulled her body behind the person, catching her knife and bringing it's butt onto the person's head forcefully. They fell to their knees, stunned by the blow and Pinkie brought the knife to their throat and taking hold of their left arm and forcing it behind them.
She couldn't bring herself to kill the person, besides, that would leave her with a bloody mess to clean up and not enough time to do it. She brought her knife back behind them and hit them in the base of their skull, knocking them unconscious. She drug them to the Bugatti and headed to the gas station.
A random teenager was on duty behind the counter, playing with a handheld device. Pinkie threw him a happy grin as she entered and retrieved duct tape and zip ties from their respective isles. After her rather suspicious purchase, she left the kid a hundred dollar bill, instructing him that she had never entered the station that night.
She walked out to the car where the unconscious person was laying. As she tied them up and put duct tape over their mouth, she identified them as a teenage boy. He looked about 16 and too clean to be a street rat. She shoved him in the passenger seat and put a seat belt on him before shutting the door and sliding over the hood to the drivers side.
She got in, started the car, and peeled out of the parking lot, the tires complaining as she drifted back onto the street. The car's LED headlights lit the path before her as the horizon turned pink and the sun began to show it's face to her left.
She slammed the gas, accelerating to an easier to drive at 165 as she headed for the shop.
--------------------------------
Leaves and trash blew around the parking lot as Pinkie drove in. A garage door opened at the site of the car and a man appeared from within, guiding Pinkie as she drove the car onto a hydraulic lift. She got out of the car and headed to the passenger side, where her still unconscious assailant was sitting.
It was early morning, around 7 am. The sun had risen just a few centimeters over the horizon, and it shone through the windows, casting curtains of gold through the dust clouds that flitted here and there. Pinkie dragged her prisoner to a back room, where she duct taped him to a chair for safe keeping. She came back out to find the man who guided her in admiring the piece of work she had brought to him.
"Damn Pinkie!" he said as he looked up at her. "Do you realize what this is?" his eyes were wide and he had a very serious look on his face. "I mean seriously, do you realize what you stole?!?" he asked at her pointing to the vehicle. His slightly protruding gut jiggled a little as he walked from the car toward her.
"Spit it out Chop" Pinkie said irritably. Chop Shop chuckled a bit, causing his gut to dance in a circle.
"This is a Bugatti Veyron Grand Sport Vitesse!", he said excitedly. "This car sells for $3.5 million new!", his excitement dulled a bit as he said this, his mind seemingly hitting a sudden realization. "There were only 150 made..." his look had turned to that of a let-down child, and he sat down in a chair near by as he said this. Pinkie reeled, nearly fainting at hearing this.
She had stolen a one-of-a-kind, an unstealable that could be tracked to the gates of hell. The car couldn't be sold or parted, it was just a federal sentence waiting to happen.
Pinkie breathed deeply to calm herself, she sat in shock of the sudden realization. All of the cars she had stolen before were mass produced, easy-to-replace pieces of machinery. This, on the other hand, this was a Mona Lisa, a David, a Starry Night. It was a unique multi-million dollar piece of art. She looked over at the red and black Bugatti sitting in its eminence on the base of the hydraulic lift. A thud sounded from the room behind her, and she turned around to see the boy had woken up and panicked, knocking the chair over in the process.
"I need a bit to think about this" Pinkie said to Chop Shop. Her normal demeanor had vanished again, but this time it wasn't a guise.
The boy made some noises from behind the duct tape on his mouth and began to writhe instinctively against his bonds. Pinkie looked at him smirking at how pitiful he was. She walked over to him and tore the tape off his face violently, trying to exude an air of dominance. She knelt down beside him while he was on the floor and grabbed his mouth. She pulled his face towards hers and scrunched it into an angry look.
"So what exactly were you doing around my car last night?" she asked in a no nonsense tone. She was fairly certain he was just a simple thief looking for a quick buck but she couldn't be certain.
"Sounds to me like that isn't your car", the kid's stupidity was unmatched. Pinkie slugged him in the face hard enough to roll the chair over onto its back. She drew her knife and brought it to the boy's throat, sitting on top of his chest as she did. He seethed in pain as his nose began to bleed, rolling his head back and forth as the shockwave seared through his cheek.
"Dumbass. What were you doing?", Pinkie was beginning to take the stress of the situation and use it to her advantage.
"Same thing you were, looking for a free ride!", he said between winces and gritted teeth. Pinkie noted how much of a baby he was about the pain, knowing she could make use of it. Her suspicion confirmed, she got off of him and smiled broadly as she took off his blindfold.
"Great! No hard feelings", she said as she turned to leave the confused boy. She shouted back at him as she left the doorway to head after Chop Shop, "If you're lying I'll gut you!" She said it in such a happy tone that she couldn't possibly be making it up.
Pinkie found Chop Shop admiring the car, lightly running his hands over the frame as he walked from front to back.
"It really is a beautiful car...", he said wistfully, "if only....", he had a grim expression at this, knowing just how bad it was that the car sat in his garage. Pinkie watched him while she thought. There were no buts about it, the situation was bad and the metaphorical shit would hit the fan fairly soon. There was absolutely no fencing the car, and it couldn't be chopped either. Hiding it would be difficult, for little to no reward as well. There was really no way to climb out of the shit hole she had dug.
Pinkie could feel one of her mood swings coming on and she began to feel panicky. She walked back to sit down in the doorway of where her prisoner was being held. She sat and tried to calm herself unsuccessfully and began to cry. She was hyperventilating slightly as a voice came from the floor.
"Having trouble dealing with a catch that big?", Pinkie turned to look at him.
Pinkie stared at the boy, not comprehending at first what he was saying. He smirked a little at her dumb look, and then continued on.
"It sounds to me like you've never lifted a supercar", he said smugly taking control of the situation. "bit off more than you can chew eh?" the kid sounded like a real asshat. "I, on the other hand, have plenty of experience with uber-c-" Pinkie slugged him again, cutting off his smug look. She sat on top of him as she had before as she drew her knife. She stabbed it into the wooden seat, millimeters away from his manhood.
"Wanna keep being a jackass?", Pinkie's voice dripped with inhumanity, and her hair looked a bit odd, different then it had before. The boy reeled back again at the hit, a bruise starting on the spot where he had be struck twice now.
"Shit, ease up psycho!", the boy said wincing in pain again. Pinkie took unneeded offense to this, and pulled the knife out of the chair violently, bringing it up to his face. She pushed the edge of the blade against his cheek, pulling it down slowly but forcefully, leaving a bleeding razor line in its wake. The boy trembled visibly and yanked his face away from the blade, causing a deeper gash near the bottom.
"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! Please, I'm sorry! No! Seriously! Please! Stop! I'm sorry!", the boy ranted incoherently at the site of his own blood dripping onto the floor beneath his face. He began to sob, his tears mixing with the small amount of blood that was landing on the floor. "I'm sorry! Don't kill me! Please! I'm sorry! Don't kill me!", he was panicking and trying to move out of Pinkie's grasp but was unsuccessful.
"Shut it!", Pinkie yelled at him as she got up and walked to the doorway. Although she was being fairly serious, she was also putting on a show. She was using violence to leverage him, so that his only option was to help her, without payment. The boy stopped screaming but still choked on tears occasionally. He was a pathetic mess on the floor, and it looked like he was ready to grovel.
Pinkie got up, flicking the blood on the knife onto the opposite wall. She wiped the rest on her pants and sheathed her knife theatrically, adding to her torturous appearance. She turned around to him and put her hands on her hips.
"You're not worth my time. I'll be taking you out back once I figure out what the hell to do with this car. Ever ate a .44 magnum shot before? I hear they taste great once you get over the massive hole in the back of your head!", she said the last part in a sadistic, happy way, and her now straight hair gave her the look of a serial killer. The boy's eyes widened and his mouth fell open, some of the dripping blood dribbling in.
"NO! No! Please! Celestia NO! I can help! I promise! Please! There's a guy in Manehatten! He'll take the car! Please just let me go! I'll even take you to him!"
right where I want him she thought. Pinkie smiled as she turned away from the boy, thanking Celestia there was a way out of this. She put on a rather insane face and turned back to him. She considered for a moment that he might be lying, and started weighing the option of executing him seriously.
"I don't believe you!", she yelled as she backed out of the room.
"NO! NO!! SERIOUSLY!! PLEASE!! I DON'T WANT TO DIE! I'M ONLY 16!!!", he began to sob again as she walked off to a room on the other side of the shop. She found Chop Shop sitting in a chair cleaning a Glock 30 as she entered. He looked up in acknowledgement and she headed for the gun cabinet that sat in a cage in the back of the room. She looked around it, taking time to pick the perfect weapon for an execution. She needed a handgun, so the AR-15 platform guns were out of the question. There was a small rack dedicated to small arms, so she walked to it and examined the choices.
Desert Eagle, .357 magnum revolver, .38, 9mm P89, .44 magnum revolver....
She considered the .44 for a moment, it was pretty big, had some shiny chrome on it, and would most likely scare the piss out of the kid.
no....I can do better than that
She continued to rummage through the guns, holding some up and looking down the sight as she did. Meanwhile she could hear the boy in the other room begging for his life. The thought crossed her mind to actually kill him, and lingered for a while as she continued to inspect the guns. She had no reason to trust him, and this 'guy' of his sounded too good to be true.
Glock 21, Glock 30, AHA! Here we go!
Pinkie walked back into the room holding an insane handgun, a 60 caliber revolver that had been chromed and the handle replaced with an ABS black plastic pistol grip. It looked just like it's 50 caliber cousin, only a hell of a lot bigger. The boy's eyes grew wide at the massive gun, which Pinkie held loosely at her side.
"NONONONOPLEASENONONOSTOPNONO!", the kid vomited on the floor in front of her as his nerves got the best of him. Pinkie drew her knife with her free hand and knelt down beside him.
"Now, I'm going to cut you from the chair. This gun will kill you even if it doesn't hit you. I get a shot close enough, it will tear off your arm.", she began to cut the duct tape around his legs and then his arms. He sobbed and pleaded with her, not daring to move. She zip tied his arms behind his back tightly enough to cause cuts on his wrists if he moved them at all. She sheathed her knife and yanked the kid up by the zip ties behind him, pushing the barrel of the gun against his head.
"Please!Please!I'mbeggingyou!I'monlyakid!Please!I'lldoanything!", his please seemingly fell on deaf ears as she drug him violently to the back door, kicking it open and shoving him out. He fell flat on his face and immediately turned over to face his attacker.
"Pleasedondothis!Please...", his cries were turning into hoarse whispers as he looked at her, her crazy eyes burning into his soul.
"On your knees!", Pinkie yelled at him, but he was too upset to respond. She slugged him again and grabbed the collar of his shirt, sitting him on his knees.
"Turn around!", she said as she backed off, raising the revolver. He sniffed and started to turn around on his knees slowly, trying to savor the last moments of his life.
"PLEASE!!!LET ME HELP YOU!!! I'LL DO ANYTHING!!!Anything!!!anything....", he trailed off as he lowered his head in a sob.
"Sit up straight, cunt!", Pinkie said violently. He obeyed, finally accepting his fate. Pinkie smiled.
Killing him might actually be fun.
A shot sounded from the gun, resonating like cannon fire off of the surrounding abandoned structures. The kid fell over from the shockwave of the bullet that traveled nearly nine feet off to his right, creating a massive six inch wide and three inch deep crater in the asphalt.
He was stunned and couldn't hear at all out of his right ear, and he felt something warm trickle down from said ear onto his face. His entire existence was ringing, vibrating with the compression of the air around him. Suddenly, a pink haired girl appeared in front of him, and he saw her mouth move. He sat stunned, unable to perceive anything as the girl roughly drug him back inside.
Pinkie flung the boy against the opposite wall of the hallway leading to the back door, and knelt down in front of him.
"Hey!", she patted him on the face a few times as his head rolled back and forth. "HEY!", she yelled at him as her patience wore thin. His senses began to return to him and he tried to focus his eyes on her.
"wh....what?", he said softly, as if he had just woken up and was hung over badly.
"You don't know anything else?", Pinkie asked venomously. She shoved the revolver harder into the side of his head, keeping on the guise of a serial killer.
"No! I swear! I meet him in Manehatten about once a month with a new car!", he yanked his head away from the gun as he said this.
Pinkie grabbed his hair and pulled his head back to the muzzle of the gun, pulling the hammer back for more effect.
"If you're lying, I will kill you, but not with a headshot from this gun. It will be much, much slower than that.", Pinkie's stare was ice cold. "Understand?"
The boy looked at her fearfully and nodded his head. Pinkie smiled as she let go of him and pranced happily off to meet Chop Shop, her hair beginning to look a little more bouncy and inflated.
Pinkie found Chop Shop still in the gun room, now assembling an AR from parts.
"Figured I might as well prepare some guns, looks like you're going to need them", he said looking up at her.
"You've heard what the kid's selling?"
"Yeah, kinda hard not to when you're filling the shop with his screams of terror"
Sarcastic bastard.
"It was just a show, I had to make certain he wasn't lying," Pinkie picked up the Glock he had cleaned earlier, searching for a holster. "Besides, this way I don't have to cut him in on anything", she found a lower leg holster and put the compact .45 in it and attached it to her calf. Chop Shop finished assembling the AR and put a magazine in it. He engaged the action and took aim down the holoscope, pointing it toward a target down a small hallway off the gun room. He keyed a button with his left hand on the vertical grip and a red dot appeared on the bullseye of the target.
"Well, at any rate, I've got a few weapons prepared already. Anything in particular you think you'll need?"
"I have a few ideas", Pinkie said smiling broadly, "but I think that I can handle the weapons. I need you to give the Bugatti some extra oomph." Chop Shop looked at her critically.
"That's one of the fastest cars on the road...what could I possibly do to give it 'extra oomph'"
"By adding Nitrous silly! Also you could find out why the hell it's limited at a mere 255 miles an hour. It feels like it can go plenty faster", Chop Shop gave her an annoyed look.
"You go faster, the tires will explode. Simple as that."
"Then put better tires on it!"
Chop Shop looked at the ridiculous girl in front of her, her notions always so innocent and futile. "There isn't a single tire on this planet that can perform better than those! They're designed specially for the car so that the pressure inside them won't blow them up at even lower speeds than 255! It's not possible to-", he stopped suddenly and his face donned the look of an enlightened saint.
"Airless!", he yelled.
"What?", Pinkie gave him a confused look.
"Never mind! You get what weapons you need I'm going to work on the car!", he said excitedly as he ran out of the room. Pinkie watched him run like a kid going to play with his new toy.
Now, I wonder if Chop Shop has a Mk 19
Pinkie was only half kidding as she searched for the fully automatic grenade launcher and wasn't surprised when she didn't find one. Instead, she found plenty of M4A1s and enough AR platform parts to build pretty much whatever she wanted. There were 2 .50 caliber Barrett M82A1s, perfect for any ultra long range sniping. There were some uzis -bleck- and an AK-47 -Celestia No!- and...
Holy Shit! It's a Mosin!
Pinkie burst out laughing and made a mental note to ask Chop Shop where he got it. She grabbed a gun bag and began to load in what she thought she would need, writing it on a list for later reference.
1 .50 cal Barrett sniper rifle with a Leupold scope
2 .50 cal Desert Eagles
1 .44 cal Magnum 6 shot revolver
1 .50 cal Magnum 5 shot revolver
2 Glock 30 compact .45s
and 2 subcompact Springfield XD-S 9mm handguns
She fitted the other Glock to her other leg and strapped two grenades to her left hip. One Deagle took her right hip and the other in the back of her pants. According to the kid, there might be some trouble along the way, so Pinkie packed heavily. There were plenty more guns she could take, but she needed to conserve what little space she had for ammo. She hooked a strap to the custom AR and put it over a shoulder, putting the other AR in the bag. She grabbed a Glock silencer and silencers for both 9mm handguns. She grabbed 1 box of 9mm, 6 of .45, 1 of .44 magnum, 3 .50, 1 .50 magnum, and 10 .223. She grabbed a few magazines for each gun and threw them in the top of the bag. By the time she was done, the bag was bulging and almost too heavy to carry. On her way out of the room, she noticed an ammo can set separate from the rest. It read:
120 CARTRIDGES cal. .50 MK 211 MOD 0 BULK
She smiled to herself as she picked them up and put the bag on her shoulder.
Of course! Can't forget the Raufoss rounds!
She smacked a picture of a cube made of various types of guns and artillery hanging over the doorway on her way out.
"Glory be to the Murder Cube!"
She found Chop Shop working on the car when she came out, the hydraulic lift partially risen to give him some room to remove the wheels.
"How's it coming?", she asked happily as she skipped to the front of the car, popping the trunk as she did so.
"I have an idea for these tires, but it might take me a while to get the new ones fitted to the rims. As for the Nitrous, that will take some doing,", he pulled off the rear right wheel and rolled it aside. Pinkie looked dismally at the trunk, knowing the M82 wouldn't fit in it period. "This car is made to waste absolutely no space, there is very little room to add the tanks for it. I can possibly add them around the engine compartment or on top of it, but I'll have to see how it works out.", he finished saying this as he rolled the front right wheel away. Meanwhile, Pinkie was stashing guns randomly throughout the car, the 9mms in the glovebox, the M4A1 between the driver's seat and the center console..."The gas tank will be tricky too. You'll definitely need it if you plan on driving this for any amount of time, but it's going to be a bitch to work out.", he laid the front left wheel against some railing beside the car. Pinkie was trying to jam the .50 magnum above the shielding beneath the steering wheel. "I'll get it worked out though, although I'll need today and maybe tomorrow", Pinkie was taking the barrel off the M82, when he said this, she stopped.
"I'm certain the police will be out by then, is this a safe place for it?"
"Maybe, but I'm certain they'll be around here eventually, so we need to be prepared", he looked over at her. "a nice high speed chase could easily take their minds off of checking the shop out, at least long enough for me to hide the car", Pinkie smiled at him.
"I suppose I'll need to go ready the chase car then?"
"Already done, you might want to put some weapons in it though, and stock some ammo for the 50", Pinkie smiled as she walked off to retrieve more weapons and ammo for the chase car. "Also, take the kid with you. If you're going to make use of that 50 you might need a driver", Pinkie was ok with this, she knew she could control the kid. She wasn't even certain she'd need him though, because the 'chase car', which was a heavily modified Dodge Challenger, had a steering lock on it. Get it on a nice, straight road, lock the steering, pull out the 50, scare the hell out of the cops and make them back the hell off.
Raufoss rounds might perform nicely in that situation. Let's see if he has another can.
Pinkie sat facing the boy as he ate, his left arm zip tied to a bolted down chair and his right one free. She was tossing her knife up and catching it, holding a .44 magnum in the other hand. The boy looked up at her sheepishly as he ate, as if he wanted to say something but was far too scared to do so.
Finally, the kid worked up enough courage to confront the sociopath in front of him.
"My name is Klepto by the way", he said as nonchalantly as possible. "Klepto Thomas", Pinkie could tell he was trying to reach out, to humanize himself to appear to not be a threat, so she decided to do the same. If she was going to be working with this kid to some extent she might as well extend her civil side to him.
Besides, I can bash his face in any time he gets out of hand.
"I'm Pinkie Pie! Nice to meet you Klepto!", she laid her knife down and extended her hand to shake his. Klepto was a little confused by her sudden hospitality, but wrote it off as insanity. He continued to eat in silence for a bit before he spoke again.
"So how long have you been stealing cars?", he kept the conversation relatively light, continuing a tactic of befriending his captor.
"Oooh, that's a tough one", Pinkie stuck out her tongue and looked thoughtfully to the ceiling, tapping her knife against her chin. "At least six years. That was around the time I met Chop Shop, and he offered me money for a heist."
"What was the car?"
"Corvette Z06", Pinkie smiled as she reminisced. "You?"
"Been stealing since I was thirteen, a little over three years. I had some family who knew my fence, he offered me a test to see if I had it in me", Klepto answered.
"What was the test?", Pinkie asked with genuine interest.
"Rolls Royce Ghost." Klepto replied. Pinkie was familiar with Rolls Royce and vaguely familiar of their Ghost line. She knew enough about cars to get by, but as with the Veyron, hadn't memorized the names and looks of all the super cars.
"Sounds impressive", Pinkie replied as she resumed tossing her knife.
"Yeah, it was quite the job", Klepto went back to his meal. Pinkie watched him for a moment more, then decided to check on Chop Shop.
"I'll be back in a minute. Don't do anything silly", with that Pinkie got up and headed into the main room.
It was night, and the moon had risen enough to be seen in the garage door windows. The wheels were back on the Veyron with new, airless tires. Currently, Chop Shop was working in the engine compartment, stuffing cans of Nitrous wherever they would fit. He didn't notice her walk in so she observed for a while as he worked.
He turned around to retrieve some hosing assemblies for the cans he had installed and noticed Pinkie leaning against a wall watching him.
"I managed to get six cans in there. You can run them one at a time or all at once, just be careful when you engage it, who knows how fast the thing will go", he said with a smirk.
"So it's done?", Pinkie asked eagerly.
"No, I've got all the wiring and hose work to do. They'll be harder than normal as well because I can't make any cuts or changes to bodywork. After that I still have to remove the limiter and add some straps for hanging out the window as I'm certain you'll want to do with how much heat you packed", his look was annoyed, as if it was trying to show how much of a pain in the ass this was. Pinkie pecked him on the cheek before heading back to Klepto.
"Thanks Choppy, I really owe you one this time", Chop just grunted and went back to his work.
Right as Pinkie sat down in front of Klepto, an alarm went off and lights began to flash.
They had an early warning system for police, and apparently it had been tripped. Pinkie quickly grabbed her knife and cut Klepto loose. She grabbed him by the arm and yanked him along wit her to the garage where the Challenger was sitting.
