> Horse La Horse Season 2: Desperate Struggle
>  by Stegtorn
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> Episode 1: Here comes the Sun
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	"I thought you said you never wanted to revisit Canterlot," Twilight says, munching on some greens.

You squint at her from behind your garlic bread, cooking up something good to say. "Hmph, this place is so great, how come you never mentioned it?"

Averting your eyes, you stuff your face with a handful of broccoli. 

”Come now, there is no way to avoid it now, Anonymous,” Twilight asks pressingly. Oh no, she’s doing the grumpy face. Her weird horse face scrunches and stuff, and she tilts her head to the north. No really, wherever the north may be, her head tilts toward it, her horn is like a little compass. 

“I uh, you know.”

Her face wrinkles into a fierce scowl.

“I wanted to visit Canterlot, your old home! Bonding experiences and all that,” you say, avoiding eye contact still, swinging broccoli. 

“You said you hated it here!”

“Well, don’t you want to see your favorite alicorn and god-queen Princess Celestia?”

She is taken aback for a moment, maybe surprised at mention of Celestia, “yes of course, w-why wouldn’t I?”

“I dunno maybe you’re too attached to me and are forgetting your mentor,” you twiddle your fingers for emphasis. 

She grumbles her grievances, but dinner continues all the same. Conversation is sparse, as you have to spend all your brain power on choking down bland-ass fucking veggies, yo. Seriously you’ve got a series of health problems due to lack of certain vitamins and nutrients best available in meats. 

The pair of you stagger to your hotel room and not too long after retire for the night. The hotel is just a good ol’ moonlight stroll from the royal palace. He he he. . . You mean, ha! what a coincidence, yes. The hotel is posh as all hell, cushy pillows, nice featherbed. Horrible sneezing and itchy skin from the aforementioned featherbed. You were surprised to find Celestia had paid for all your travel expenses, she must be excited to see her old protege. Or maybe she is expecting you? No, no way, you think, squinting at the ceiling in the middle of the night while laying next to your mare-friend who’s just a friend Twilight who you are sharing a bed with you’re just friends though. 

You take a deep sigh, and Twilight shifts next to you, drooling into your elbow as she is wont to do. You’ve taken steps to ensure she won’t wake though. The total classic, cosby mix, slipped into her drink. It was quite easy really, for being such a smart cookie she is really distracted by “LOOK OVER THERE”. 

Flying down the stairs and out the lobby door you find yourself on the empty streets of Canterlot. No moon is out, so the dark is night and the night is dark. The official statement is that Luna is on vacation in the Griffon kingdom of Griffistan (or something). We both know that isn’t the case, she is in face somewhere in the dungeons. And you put her there, with this very suit you’re wearing. 

Speaking of which, this suit has been giving you problems lately. Fluttershy’s spirit seems broken somehow, and despite her efforts, there’s nothing Twilight or you can do to fix it. And you’ve tried every kind of fluid you could think off! Honest to god, you have tried some nasty fucking stuff on this thing. 

Twilight had suggested that strong emotions could trigger a reaction, but you haven’t tested that. You aren’t particularly worried, there still is 5 other great forms. Actually AJ’s is garbage, don’t tell her though. To be fair, knowing what you do about Fluttershy, how could she possibly be of any use?

The streets are empty and quiet. The cold wind flutters your blood red tie over your neck, feels cold but cool as fuck. Did you catch that pun? It’s strange, seeing everything so empty and so clean. Normally you would have police, or wandering vagrants milling about. But here in pony land, everyone is so nice there is no need for police or violence. :).

Damn, you miss home. The constant violence, the overcrowded streets, and who could forget the serious pollution from all those factories.  Home, sweet *COUGH* *COUGH* home. It’s horrible, but it’s yours. Or was. Fucking Luna. 

One winding, steep stone path later and you’re at the west entrance of the royal palace. You spot with your hawk like vision, a pair of lazy looking guards twiddling their hooves in front of the gate. You stop for a second, watching the two of them stare down at their hooves in bored contemplation. They just sit there rubbing and bumping them together. What the fuck. Well, Twilight’s info seems to be right. This is the least protected side, from what you can tell. “But how to get closer to them?” you ponder while looking around the area from the shadows. 

What’s this here then? A cardboard box lying against wall just out of the guard’s cone of vision. You dive for that shit, and snake under it. You center it on top of yourself, and punch yourself a hole in the front. Perfect. With your right and left hand you give out a good bird call to get the guards attention.

“You hear that?” the one on the left pips up. 

“No, what was it?” the other replies, sounding half asleep. 

“That was the blue-breasted tit. It’s one of the rarest birds! It only comes out at night, when under the influence of fermented fruits.”

“Why do you know so much about birds?” the second asks sharply in a judgmental tone.

“HUSH!” the first says, “help me find it.”

You hear them jingle about, looking for that rare and elusive tit. Ha, idiots!

“When the bird watching clubs hears about this they’ll get cutie marks in envy.”

You can hear his partner roll his eyes (god how horrifying) as you shuffle between them and go through the gate. It’s tall and black, with a single door the size of a moderately tall pony. Seems odd that they’d have a gate the princesses wouldn’t be able to fit through. Oh, wait, they can fly. 

S rank all the way, baby. No C4 needed, that wouldn’t be stealth. What kinda shitdick retard thinks using C4 as a distraction is true stealth. Bird calls is true stealth, my friend. You toss off the box and charge right into the palace grounds. This section is a garden, how lovely. Good thing the pitch black night allows optimal viewing conditions for these shitty ass plants. Oh hey a fountain. 

“Oh, hi Anon,” a cheery cotton candy voice pipes up from the silence.

Theme of Princess Cadance:  (JJBA: ASB - LISA LISA ~ Lisa Lisa ~ Extended)


You jump up in fear and scream a small string of swears. With a flick of the head you find the source, an alicorn with a pink coat, shadowed by the night. She flaps her wings aggressively at you, and mocks you with a smile.

“Cadence? Cadance? DanceDance?” you call in question, assuming your boxing stance.

“Yes, it’s me, but what are you doing here?”

“Bird watching. I thought I heard a rare bird down this way. Anyway, excuse me princess, I also have a meeting with, uh, the other princess.”

Why do so many ponies like bird watching? 

Cadance begins pacing back and forth near the fountain. With a quick look you see the door to the palace not far off, a small set of stairs leading to the ornate passageway. 

“That doesn’t sound right, my unfurred friend.”

“I’m not a furry.”

“Why would you be snooping around the palace, this late at night, through some back entrance. Especially when you most recently gave the moon a black eye.”

You hold up your hand and point up, ready to give a retort, but none comes.

“Bird got your tongue?” she says slyly.

“The time for talk is over. I won’t let you stand in my way. Princess Celestia may or may not even know about something that I need. Or even have the power to perform even if she does know that thing.”

“What?”

You throw your first punch with a lunge, springing forward on one foot. The wind rustles past your ears as you soar towards her. Cadance is an alicorn however, and her movements are deft and graceful! She leaps easily out of the way, onto the fountain and then at you with the intent to deliver a fierce, horseshoe kick. Reflexes of olympian proportion activate allowing you adjust your position to block and divert her attack, her golden horseshoe knocking hard against your blocking forearms. 

She lands softly now to the left of you, smiling cheerfully. Lovely how quick everyone is ready to settle things with violence here. 

“Okay, are you ready to calm down and talk about it?” she asks.

“Yeah this is silly, why are we fighting? This feels really forced actually, like someone is just throwing us together for a cheap action scene!” you reply, waving your hands about.

“Hmm, maybe we can make some love instead of some war?” she rears her rear around and wiggles it a little. You feel your muscles tense up in excitement, and you lean forward a few degrees, eyes on that prime piece of candied butt.

Cadence used Attract! 

“Aren’t you married? Also I’m REALLY REALLY good friends with a girl?” 

The princess only winks in response, rising up on her hindlegs and blowing a kiss. Against his better judgement, Anonymous is infatuated. Infatuated with that fat ass. You feel your muscles move on their own, tugging your whole body a step closer to her. What is going on here!? This isn’t right at all, how are your hips moving on their own?  

Cadance giggles and does a little dance on her hindlegs before going down to her natural stance on all fours, “works every time!”

Your mouth opens for a snarky remark, but your jaw shuts itself painfully. It feels like it’s wired shut!

“Hush now, we have to go see the princess.”

You are looking at a princess right now though, who else could she mean? Oh yeah, Celestia! Sweat accumulates on your brow like the condensation on a nice cold lemonade glass. What if they imprison you for breaking and entering the palace grounds! This was an awful idea, Anonymous. You probably could have just asked her and she would have helped you. It’s too late now! You’ve been stupid and chose the path of black and blue eyes and hurt feelings.

And this is what you’ll be getting, a scalding from the Sun herself! You stomp, very much against your will, toward that ornate door past the fountain, Cadance giggling to herself as she leads you forward. True fear grips your heart like a corpse’s hand. Rigor Mortis, yo. The fear sweats leak into your dress shirt, staining your pit area under the jacket. 

Hold on! You’re feeling a tingling, and the familiar tightness of a transformation! There is a flash of blinding light, some odd sounds of slapping and pulling, and the rough grind of fabric against clothing. 

Then all is back to normal, aside from your clothes of course. Did you accidentally switch into your Pinkie form because of the sweat? 
“What the hell are you wearing?” Cadance asks, blinking her eyes a few times to adjust them.

“Don’t know retard, I can’t move my eyes down to check, I’m frozen remember.”

“Oh right,” she replies, craning your neck down so you can get a look.

“Easy, that hurts.”

What the hell are you wearing? A terribly long yellow sweater, a ribbed turtleneck for your pleasure. The stupid thing is all way down to your feet, with sleeves like a car dealership’s airdancer. It’s a full-body sweater. This is quite possibly the worst of all your suits! It’s horribly unfashionable, what would Rarity say about this? And it’s only making your pit sweat worse.

“That’s probably gonna stain! Meep,” a cooing voice calls.

“Who said that?” Cadance asks, stopping cold. 

She peers at you, “no tricks Anonymous, come along, we have to settle this with Auntie Celestia.” 

Holy fuck, you think fearfully. That’s the most pious “fuck” you’ve even thought. 

“Oh no, this is terrible! How will we get out of this, Anonymous?” Fluttersuit asks, her voice faltering. 

Oh god, I’ve got myself ensnared in Cadance’s booty magic and now my only hope is fucking Fluttershy. Amazing. It’s shit already. If your faulty mind is correct, the magic she gave Fluttershy’s form was so bad it wasn’t even worth mentioning. Thanks Twilight, thanks for fucking nothing.

“W-what do you mean f-ing Fluttershy? I-I’m not a shit,” your suit says.

THIS IS AWFUL.

“Don’t leave me out of this conversation, Anonymous, why are your clothes talking?” Cadance questions, looking you up and down. At least she’s stopped because she’s curious. Maybe the magic will wear off! 

“Hold on, I’ll get us out o-of this! I’ll show you I’m worth something!” Fluttershy says defiantly, she quickly follows up her claims with some light humming and chirping.

“Oh yes, singing will save us,” you retort.

She carries on, voice wavering for a moment. Sounded almost like she was about to cry. The bushes rustle around you, and the cawing of a raven can be heard carried by the wind. Cadance flicks her head to and fro, looking around for some hidden enemy. What is happening? An owl lands on the fountains peak, doing a 360 with its head before fluttering off, hooting at Cadance angrily. 

“Please, tell me animals aren’t your power.” 

Fluttersuit just meeps, and you feel your sweater quiver. You stare with panic at Cadance, unable to move. A black raven, almost unseeable in the night, swoops down and drives its pecker right into Cadance’s flank. Then, you feel your arms and torso dip toward her. You’re moving! But you’re not? Maybe Cadance fucked up and accidentally put you forward? 

“Anon, can you move now?”

“S-shut the fuck up she’s right there, idiot,” you reply hastily.

Cadance continues batting at the bird stuck in her ass before finally getting angry and using her magic to pull it out.

You instantly fall on your face into the dirt. Shivering muscles  and coughing as your throat relaxes follow your fall. Was she keeping your heart and lungs working? Scary shit, my man. You bring yourself to kneel, trying to recover while you have a moment, “okay, how do I use you Fluttersuit?”

“Uhm,” she peeps up.

“Speak quickly,” you say panicked, watching idly as Cadance recovers from her scuffle. 

“HAHAH! You’ve spent your one trick, Anonymous. And I’ve spent mine. I guess we’ll have to do this the hard way, huh?”

“Yeah okay, bitch.”

“SUPER DOUBLE ALICORN TRANSFORMATION GO!!!”

With a loud “waaaah” Cadance twirls into the air, the sky is illuminated with various shades of pink and red, radiating like a rainbow from her horn, supported by her wings. From her chest something bursts, a white and red. . . uniform? A tie, a button up shirt, ending in a skirt that covers her flank (and just barely). Plaid skirt, work shirt, sassy look? She’s in a school-girl get up! You clap whilst turning around slowly to get a full 360 of the light show. Very impressive.

“Alright, you candy-ass, let’s throw down,” you roll up your giant sleeves like Pop-eye, and sidle on up to her, ready to deliver an uppercut. You give her the swing like Mike Tyson, no pigeons though. And it connects with her jaw and she goes flying! Okay Ryu, easy up. 

“HAHAHA!” you hear Cadance cackling. The Cadance you just fucked up disappears into a puff of sparkles!

“It was only an afterimage, I’m actually behind you,” she calls, prompting you to spin around. PEWPEW. Two hot zaps sear your back, nearly burning holes in your sweater.

“Oh~!” Buttershutter coos remorsefully. 

Charging up to Cadance is your first thought, you clear the gap in about 3 strides, and go for the grapple. You clamber forward, missing her entirely, and the pink fucker dances away, fluttering her wings as she gains altitude. Human legs were not built for jumps more than a foot, at least yours weren’t. Not even a crouch jump can get you close to Cadance’s laughing, flying visage. 

She gallops in the air mockingly, “try me now, little man.”

“Dude I’m like twice your size,” you say, unimpressed.

“Then how come you can’t grab me?”

She’s got you there. And she’s about to get you with that pink sawed-off shotty! Quick, cartwheel dodge. Also where did that come fromt BAM! The hunk of metal and wood goes off, and a bouquet of roses smashes into the grass where you were a second ago.
“Ha! Harmless,” you comment, dusting off a bit.

With a second look you notice the roses latch themselves into the dirt, and then with thick vines begin wiggling about and trashing. Too far to reach you, but you don’t need to feel it to know those thorns would hurt. 

“Ugh, my rosebuds didn’t work!” Cadance gives a depressed twirl in the air, and a shower of sparkles and bright light rains down from her. Alicorns are fucking awful. You take a pause and catch her attention with some snapping of your thumb. 

“Hey look at my eyes,” you shout.

She does, and you hit her with the perfect eye roll, some real teenage emo phase shit. That’ll show mom! She’ll learn not to knock when you’re on Suicide Girls. 

“LET MY PASSIONATE LOVE PENETRATE YOU,” Cadance screams, dipping her head down at you, releasing a thick beam of loving red and white. The hot, coursing fluid cuts a line in the grass, cracks the fountain in two, and nearly does the same to you. 

“Banana slug, give me something to work with.” The nervousness in your voice is obvious, you’re gonna get carved to bits down here.
You feel your sweater wiggle a little bit, and then, out from the darkness, a big eagle. Maybe he can carry you to Celestia’s room and we can get this over with? Oh better yet, yes go ahead and knock Cadance out of the sky! With stylish dashing you move just under her, giving a jumping punch straight to her stomach as she decedents. You hear all the air get knocked out of her body, and she tumbles off your fist to the grass with a thump.	

“That probably should have broken my wrist,” you comment, picking her fat ass off the dirt.

You give her a good spin before tossing the alicorn into the nearby wall. And, accidentally, through it. The bricks fall in around her, a puff of dust escaping with them. What the hell are those guards doing? Have they gone off somewhere? They probably heard that. Better get inside. As you walk over to Cadance you notice your sleeves fall back to normal all on there own. 

“S-sorry, that really hurts when you scrunch them up, Anon,” Bananarama says in a wavering voice. (Bananarama is an all female pop music vocal group formed in 1979 by a bunch of friends in London.)

“Well this is really not good, I mean how am I supposed to punch with these long sleeves flopping around?”

“Look Anon, she’s getting back up,” Sputtersweat spouts.

Your eyes flick to the prone alicorn, holding her aching head. A bump the size of a prize pumpkin right on her forehead. She groans in pain, swaying a bit as she stands.

“Anon she’s really hurt, we should help her.”

“Yeah, help her into a coma!”

A running right hook does her in for the night. Her body goes limp and she slouches into a pile of bricks like a sack of potatoes. Stepping over her large rump, you continue down the hall and into the palace like a stealth master. How will they know you’ve entered if the door is still closed and locked? 

The castle is cozy looking with carpeted halls, warm flickering torches, and the occasional chandelier. It’s getting a little hot in this sweater. And what time is it? Hopefully Celestia isn’t up yet. You’d like to catch her unawares. Any other moron would be lost in these halls, but you recall your first visit here spectacularly after how many times they wanted to coddle and parade you around, the freaky alien man. 
The Princess of Light’s room is quite stunning. The ceiling is at least twenty feet up, supported by grecian-like pillars and slotted between those thick blue curtains that are likely obscuring the multi-paned windows. The walls are lined with rows of well kept bookcases, desks littered with scrolls and inkwells. A lavish bed rest in the middle, round with a canopy. It’s headboard faces the windows, giving Celestia a view of the door when she wakes up.

That’s where she is now, snoozing, draped in a neat-o yellow quilt. “Shabloo-bloo,” she snores, echoing through the room. You feel like a right bandit, sneaking in like this. With one hand you close the door behind you, after being assured with the low click you continue on. We’re in the belly of the beast now.

“I hope Celestia doesn’t notice us!” Fluttershy whispers. 

With your eagle vision you catch the light seeping in from underneath the door flashing in Celestia’s now open eye. In a swift motion the quilt is tossed up in the air and she disappears behind it.

“Where did she go!” your suit asks.The thick curtains are tossed asunder as well, falling with swooshes to the tiled flooring. The quilt flies toward you, but you dodge to the left of it and catch Celestia stretching a few paces next to her bed. 

Theme of Princess Celesita:  Perturbator - Sexualizer


“Anonymous, I wasn’t expecting you, what are doing here my little munchkin?” she asks with a yawn.

Flashbacks to the brief time you were a guest at the Royal Palace make you shudder. Before you answer, she turns her back to you, her horn begins to glow, and the sky in the now revealed windows begins to lighten. Amazing, she’s raising the sun! Time to avert your fucking eyes. You shield yourself from experiencing the panting, sweaty, un-sexual waggling that takes place when she raises the sun. Going through that twice is not on your bucket list. 

Wait, this would be a perfect time to catch her unawares. Your ear detects grunting and the dripping of sweat on tile just a few meters from you. If you can catch her now, you might be able to wrestle her into submission until she sends you home.  Within a fraction of a second your mind formulates the plan. You roll up your sleeves, you will make the sun humble. You sell out Madison Square Garden, and you will again. No Jabroni will stand between you and home. BAM, BAM, BAM, you feel like a titan striding across Celestia’s tiled room. Falling into a knee slide you open your arms and catch her hindlegs. Her ass right in your face you do not care, this is where you belong. You rear up, the weight of Celestia’s fat fucking butt nearly snapping your back.

“W-WHOA,” she cries out, being flipped around and tossed to the side by the superiority of fucking pure human muscle. She collapses with a mighty THUMP and the goddamn palace shudders, dust coming from the now cracked ceiling.With a healthy roar you stand and position yourself for the Anon clutch. Yes, yes this will keep her in line! 

“The physique on you right now Anonymous, astounding,” the sweater says to you.

A few months ago that would’ve shocked you. With your timber sized arm you wrap around Celestia’s midsection as she mewls and kicks at the air weakly. You squeeze upward. Yes, yes, pretend you’re saving her from choking on a dick.

"Oh? A challenge," she grunts, gasping for breath, "well allow me to exercise the full might of the celestial body we call the Sun!"

. . . 

Ow. Whoa, what the fuck. You suddenly feel the impact of smashing into a wall. Shaking your head, you find yourself slumped down on the floor. Hazily looking up you confirm the giant dent in the wall, right next to one of the windows. The pain in your back is more than you can bear! You can hardly move. With a turn of the head you see the sun peaking over from a window, it’s half raised in the sky, looking lazy underneath a blanket of purple and blue haze. 

Celestia begins laughing, trotting toward you. What happened? You had her pinned, it was over. She was out for the count! 

“Let me guess why you’re here,” she says in her comforting, motherly voice, “you want to go home now? You have had enough of Equestria?”

Now, in your head you’re saying “yes bitch” but for some reason your mouth isn’t making it happen.

“A-Anon,” your clothes groan. She doesn’t sound good. Fluttershy never seemed like the toughest of the bunch, how will her clothing spirit hold up against the beatings it’s getting?

“Are you done yet, Anon?” she asks cheerfully, “I can put some tea on the kettle and we can talk this over.”

“Send me home,” you reply, standing, brushing off pits of plaster and stone.

“We both know I can’t do that.”

“Why?”

“I can’t say.”

You go red in the face, and you sense Fluttersuit trying to say something, but she keeps quiet. No way in hell you’re staying here forever. She has the power to send you home, no fucking doubt. 

“You’re lying through your horsey fucking teeth, I can tell. I’m an expert liar,” you declare with a smile and a proud thumb pointed at your chest. See, you lied just then.

You square up, and get a running start at her. Celestia gracefully trots toward a cart, containing a large stack of cake plates and a just as large cake. Breakfast for princesses, you suppose. You know for a fact you could easily dodge whatever she throws at you, you've had practice!

. . . 

A heap of small cake plates shatter against your body with a hard impact, and you’re tossed hard against the mahogany of her bed frame. W-what happened? Did she catch you in a throw and toss you to the bed? The pain of a dozen or so slight lacerations becomes apparent. You can feel blood soaking into your clothes. You wrack your mind, you didn't even get a chance to think about dodging!

With a panting, breathless sigh of anguish you realize you’re in no condition to fight. Fluttershy is your only backup, but you’re indoors so there’s no space for animals. What a shitty power. You’d kill for a sword, or a candy cane, or a fucking whip at this point. How can you take her out with just your bare knuckles? 

“Fluttershy, come on, have you got anything else for me?” you say, voice groggy. Rising to your feet is a feat on its own, and you sway side to side, hardly keeping your balance.

“Give it up, Anonymous, you can’t win. Let’s just talk this out,” Celestia calls from her position by the wall. She’s about 4 or 5 strides away, that is if your legs can even carry you there. Nah, you can't make it, but you stand firm and erect your back.

!!! Your eyeballs flick to her, casting the most defiant look you can muster, “no amount of talking will make me want to stay here! I want to see my old home.”

. . .

—Celestia’s PoV—
Hot damn you are going to need some cake after this. You're burning too many calories beating up this stud. You flick your celestial mane back with a snap of the neck. You’ve got all the time in the world here, having activated your secret ZA SUNZO power. Stopping time in exchange for having to raise the sun every morning? Easy choice.

It’s a real shame you have to ruin Anon’s face. I mean look at that cute little mask, you could just smother him with your big horsey bottom. Instead you’ve gotta beat him up and send him back to Twilight. Good thing you never told her about the mirror, or else she would have spilled the beans on that thing long ago! It’s not Anonymous’ home by a long shot, but if he is truly as desperate as he is coming off, he would use it in a heartbeat.

You saunter up to him, fluttering your eyes. With the slight turn of the head you give him a sultry look, right into his own anger filled eyes. Aw, it’s like seeing a kid acting up. Well, time to send him flying~! Oh. Why can’t you move your legs? Are you frozen? What is happening!?

. . . 

—Anonymous’ PoV—
Ah! What the hell, now she’s about twenty feet closer than she just was. Ew, why is she just giving you that odd snarl face?

“Oh, it worked! We gave her THE STARE,” Stuttercloth says with a determined, but tired voice.

“The stare? The hell is that?”

“It’s my secret special talent. I can cast Dominate Creature as a 5th level spell at will, with my eyes alone.”

“Gee-wiz that’s amazing,” you reply, tossing a fist at Celestia’s frozen jaw. Her face contorts into confusion and anger. She’s hanging there, frozen a half an inch off the the ground, tilted to the side from the force of the punch. Now a left, and she’s sent into the tiles with a boom.
The sound echoes throughout the bedroom, the drapes flutter with the force of the impact. That felt pretty not bad. She tries getting up and you see her body shudder with effort. You’ve really got her now. That special trick must have really shaken her spirit.

“How did you stop time like that?” the princess of all ponyland questions.

“How hard did you hit your head?”

Limping over, you feel a soaring in your chest. Anticipation, expectation for an end to all this, finally. And look how easily it has gone. She beat you pretty good, but you got her back twice as bad. Nothing can keep Anonymous down, you’ve found your way! You stand over her, flexing your muscles a little bit. Bathe in this victory goo; sweaty, bloody victory.

“Why did you have to resort to violence?” Sunhorse questions, laying on the ground still. She opens her wings and envelopes you in them, pulling you closer with weak nudges.Oh, this is nice. Warm, and cozy, being tickled by these feathers. “Why couldn’t we just have a chat, share some tea? I’m so sorry I can’t send you home, Anonymous. I thought maybe you could leave a peaceful, love-filled life here in Equestria instead.”

“Huh?”

It may be your battered brains, but you think you’re having a thought. . .

Why did you have to open with fisticuffs? Is it just your nature? No. Maybe. Whoa, this is some real existential shit she is throwing down. Maybe it’s human nature to cause violence? Maybe peace and friendship really is the answer! Perhaps your whole time here was meant to be a purgatory. Did it all lead up to this epiphany? Yes! YES! Challenging Celestia was the wrong option, embracing her friendship was the real answer!

C—R—A—S—H!!!

You stumble back and fall flat on your ass. With a burst of ear shattering sound the walls of the palace crumble. Chunks of stone and shards of glass go flying. Bracing for impact, you expect a heavy amount of damage. None comes. When you open your eyes you’re holding a very much battered Celestia in your arms. Oh dear, one of her wings are broken, must have been from one of the stones. With some constriction and whipping you feel your suit return to its original form, albeit beat to hell and torn up. 
“W-who did this?”

Mega Force intro theme:  (Undertale OST: Song that might play when fight Sans)


The mega forces that caused this disaster are now floating in, carried by dark magic. A radical group of bizarre creatures saunters in. A dastardly looking green and red-eyed unicorn leads the charge, carrying the other 4 freaks in matching uniform with him on a platform of ghostly green magic. Gracious and glorious sunbeams herald their arrival, seeping in behind them like a play’s backdrop.

“BRACE YOURSELVES FOR THE ULTRA WICKED, AND SUPER STYLISH, M-M-M-MEGA FORCES OF DARKNESS~” one of them shouts, as they freeze in place a strike a variety of poses. 

All four of them are clad in skintight purple, gold and black costumes. And all of them look uncomfortable as hell in them, aside from the odd purple one naturally. You’re speechless, holding a passed out Celestia in your hand and being subjected to this freakshow. The unicorn leads again, getting up on his hindlegs and kicking the air with his forelegs. 

He growls before dropping his one-liner, “mi nombre es Sombra. Por favor, sácame de este traje.”

A cringe-inducing tentacle haired mare, tall and lanky to boot pops up to take the stage next, she does a sassy flick with her head and wiggles her weird hentai mane, “I’m Mane-iac, and I’ll turn your world crazy~”

A hole-legged black, chitinous bug horse hybrid slowly walks to her spot. It’s like she has practiced this, “hello, I am the Queen of the changelings, Chrysalis. Bow before me, tiny ponies,” she says in a dry, flat tone. 

In an amazing display of dexterity and magical aptitude the dragon, goat demon bat flies underneath Chrysalis and shrinks himself to fit into one of her leg holes. “Oh, how wonderful it is to be back at the palace, did you miss your old friend Discord, Equestria?” he announces.

They all hold pose, aligned awkwardly together for a moment.

“Wait, d-did you beat her up all by yourself?” Mane-iac says, stunned.

Discord twirls into himself as he slithers toward you, “I think he did.” 

“I—” you slump down to your knees, Celestia with you. 

“Well, get her already,” Chrysalis pipes up, stepping forward. Before you can even react, green swirling magic plucks the princess from your arms. 

“I think we have our replacement, friends,” Mane-iac comments while sauntering toward you, one of her green tentacools sliming your cheek. She reaches into her back pocket and places a shampoo bottle into your lap, leaving a kiss on your goo’d face. Sombra flicks a business car at your leg, and it digs into the tile, standing straight and resolute. 

“See you around, Anonymous,” Discord says as he and his mega force buddies lift off out the giant hole in the wall. 

You really can’t go home? All this for nothing? You curl into a ball, dragging the dust and bits of stone around you like a bed. 



IN THE NEXT EPISODE:
Will Anonymous ever recover?
What will become of the Princess?
How will Twilight react to her mentor being blown the fuck out?
FIND OUT NEXT TIME ON HORSE LA HORSE!

End of Episode 1 of the two episode season premier.
> Episode 2: Breaking Dawn
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	“Halt! Halt!” the guards yelled, their hooves smacking hard against the stone of the floor. Sounded like the imperial guards of Daggerfall were not at all happy with you. To be fair, you did beat the shit out of their princess and allowed her to be captured by the combination villain team now calling itself the Mega Forces and dressing in tight wrestling uniforms. Those were likely the pony equivalent of assless singlets. Worn only by professionals, on professional occasions.

With a sick slide, that kicks up a knee high cloud of dust, you stop and spin to facing the troop of guards behind you. The front most begin choking on your dust as they stop too, squinting and quickly trying to regain composure so that they may apprehend you. The ones in the back begin to notice their buddies have stopped and quit their incessant shouts of “halt”.

The hallway is tight, and silent aside from the reverbs of “halt” running down behind you. About ten (10!) royal guardsman stand before you, and you bet if they had sleeves and knuckles they'd be scrolling and cracking them. Your suit had reverted to its base form, Fluttersuit being worn out from the Celestia encounter. That Stare power could have been useful right about now.

It's not too big a worry, is it? You're Anonymous, skilled brawler and proud owner of a GED after being ejected from Magic High School. You've knocked down the best, what is ten little baby guards?

You set to cracking each knuckle lightening fast, then with a quick step forward you put your body's weight into a downward punch that connects with the skull of the front most guard. His legs give underneath him and he clatters to the floor.

“Should have worn a helmet,” you comment, following with a uppercut to his closest comrade, sending him right into the roof. Bricks crack and give way. Dusty mortar rains down as he kicks and flails, stuck neck deep in the above wall. The scream of a servant can be heard above, and the clamor of some platters that she must have been carrying.

The remain eight's shock wears off quick, training kicks in, and so do they, two diving down at you with their hindhooves ready to cave in your chest. You duck underneath the first one, and he tumbles behind you. The other collides into your shoulder, sending a big volt of pain through you. You fall down onto the hard stone, landing on the big fella that sailed right over you.

“Should have worn shoulder pads,” he grunts, sticking his tongue out at you.

You grab at his nearest hoof and pull him forward, just in time too, as his friend was trying to trample you. The sound of horseshoes against armor rings out through the hall as your assailant receives some friendly fire. Your shoulder aches in pain, put you use your vast upper body strength to toss the two ponies off you, sending them into the others waiting for their turn to strike.

You feel like it's time to run, and vault over the two knocked down ponies, chargering down the hallway like a Dodge. If you remember correctly following this would take you outside again. And then what? How are you gonna face down Twilight after beating her teacher within an inch of her (immortal) life?

You lose the guards through the twisting hallways, but there will be more. And there is more, a ring of them in fact, those that you evade earlier and more. The back garden was choking with them, early sunlight reflecting off their shiny golden armor. Fuck, the place was more guardpony than plant.

Who raised the sun today? You wonder. The face of an angry Cadence doesn't give you an answer, but she pushes her way through the ring of gruff looking guards, and she has someone in tow. Who is that?

“Ah, damn.”

You'd seen Twilight this mad one time, and it wasn't at you. Spike had broken into her personal PC (the P here doesn't stand for personal it stands for pony, so they're more like PPCs). He'd replaced all her fanfictions with hot spicy pictures of mares. Absolutely lewd stuff, and you helped him find it all. Being a bro, however, he endured over fifty minutes of screeching and embarrassment, and in fact did not sell you out. He was in the doghouse for a month. Literally, he was sleeping in the backyard of the Treebrary like a dog; you had to sneak him his meals because she wouldn't let him have anything.

“Anon,” she said softly, there was no sound whatsoever that she had to speak over. The guarden was eerily silent. “I think we need to have a talk.”

A guy in the back broke into a sweat, watering the grass with his perspiration. Many of the attendees looked likewise nervous, rather than smug. You'd expect they'd be a bit more excited to see the guy who pummeled them and their princess a bit of a talking too.

“Yo, what's good?” you said, keeping up your usual lack of enthusiasm or seriousness.

“Why did you do all this!? Why couldn't you have used your words, and your friendship to solve the problem! Five minutes of talking could have gotten you the same results, without all this collateral damage. Anon, are you stupid?” 

You squint, trying to find some hidden meaning in her words that you can’t uncover. She seems genuinely confused, mind boggled. 

“What did I ever do to you aside from try my best to be your marefriend? Am I not good enough? You still would leave me in a flash if you had a chance?”

“Well,” you say rubbing the back of your neck

Horn magic blast. Big purple beam for massive damage. Always bet on waifu. You hear the stone walk crack as you slam into it, and feel the rain of rock shards on your head and shoulders as you fall down, but none of the pain. You’re trying to think if you really would leave Twilight behind. You were gonna do it about fifteen minutes ago, but now? Second thoughts are looming. 

“Wait just a second here, Twilight,” you say, trying to stand, index finger pointed toward a morning sky.

She magics up a hold on you, keeping you firmly planted on the dirt.

“I think we’re done, Anonymous, feel free to go home however you can. No need for m-me to tie you down,” she says choking back some emotions you couldn’t place.

You see your suit sparkle a bit, and then feel oddly lighter than before. 

“Y-you don’t need me right?” her voice cracks with emotion, and then she continues with new vigor, anger in her words, “So you shouldn’t need my suit either."

And then suddenly all the pain you should have felt and been feeling for the past couple hours comes crashing down at once, overloading your pea-brain.

“How cliché,” you manage to groan, before blacking out. You feel your body being sucked away, and then feeling it crashing hard onto something far from comfortable and springy.

End of Episode 2, Season 2
IN THE NEXT EPISODE:
Will Anonymous's heart reflect his body in brokenness?
What will he do now without the magic of LOVE?
Can he ever get her back?
FIND OUT NEXT TIME ON HORSE LA HORSE!

> Episode 3: Revenge of the Human
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	“Hey there pal,” a deep voice says.

You look up to see a shirtless Minotaur. Before you have time to check if he's also a pants-less Minotaur your head erupts in a mighty headache. The sunlight streaming in from the trees above is right in your eyes.

“Move to the left a step,” you groan, shielding your vision with a hand.

The beast does so with a grunt. The sun now resting on his broad shoulders and thick neck instead of your pupils.

“Care to explain why you're laying on Iron Will’s lawn in that fancy get up.”

“At least I'm wearing clothes.”

He does not look amused at your cheek.

“I have no idea why I'm here, or where I am.”

He offers a hand, and you accept, being more tugged to your feet than helped.

“You're on my Iron farm. I'm Iron Will.”

“Iron farm?” you ask, looking around.

Iron Will's lawn was a vast patch of lovely verdant grass, trees and bushes. In the distance you can see a neat looking cottage, presumably this bullman's abode. No iron or farm like things nearby.

“Well, it is going to be. As soon as I learn to farm.”

“I thought you mine iron, not farm it.”

“Shuddup,” he says, slapping you on the shoulder, he puts himself next to you, and waves his hand over the vast open landscape.

“All of this is mine, and soon I'll have an Iron farm bigger than the Pie's rock farm.”

“Well that's all fine and good,” you remove his giant hairy blue hand from your sore shoulder, “I need to be going home. Which way is Canterlot?”

You turn to face him, and find he's got a mammoth grin spread across his bovine countenance. Deep from within he releases a hardy chuckle. He leans into the laugh, slapping himself on his steel abs with one hand, and waving downward with the other.

“That's a good one,” and then he heads toward the cottage.

“Canterlot is under the control of the Mega Forces, pal, good luck getting there,” he flexes as he points to the right of him, toward a forest down a hill, “but if you want to get beaten up and robbed by hoodlums head that way for a few days and you'll reach it.”

Iron Will leaves his cottage's door open, but disappears inside. The Mega Forces, damn. YOU caused this to happen. How long have you been out that those bafoons took over Canterlot? Looking up at the sun, you reason it's about 8 or 9 AM. Just a few hours from dawn, when you were last at Canterlot.

You jog to catch up to Iron Will, entering his well furnished cottage with curiosity. It's a nifty little place, that's for certain. Almost reminds you of the library. There is a pain in your chest where your heart should be for a moment. The room is empty when you scan it, Iron Will must be in one of the side rooms.

The floor is a hardwood, very chic. A dark wood coffee table rests in front of a leather couch, both of which poised to watch a small radio with only two dials. The radio rests on a large bookcase, filled with what looks like graphic novels. You hadn't realized those were a thing in this world. Makes sense, why wouldn't they have them? You waltz over to the shelf and pick one at random, it's a nice pink. The cover is a foil picture of, something. Looks like a cat?

You glare at the paperback, “I see you're a fan of, what the fuck, Neko Neko Tiny Bubblegum Cat Vol. 132?”

“Don't touch those,” Iron's gruff voice calls, you hear the stomping of heavy hooves against the floor as he storms in, pushing between you and the bookcase. He snatches the book away from you and carefully places it back where it belongs.

“The translation doesn't always portray the elegance of the title,” he says softly, petting the books.

“Well whatever, I just wanted to know more about what happened to Canterlot. Also what day is it?”	

“Iron Will don't know, don't own a calendar.”

“Amazing,” you reply, throwing your hands up in dismay and collapsing on the couch. You toss your feet up on the coffee table and splay out, feeling rather depressed now.

“As for Ponyland's capital, about a day or two ago the Mega Forces of Villainy stormed the place, and without Princess Celestia to defend it, they completely demolished anyone who put up any resistance.”

You curse under your breath. This is your fault. And if you don't rectify it, something bad will surely happen. “Is that all? What have they been doing there?” you inquire.

“Well,” Iron Will rubs his big chin, “the radio put out an ad.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, the Mega Forces were looking for new members, and they were gonna hold tryouts for new villains. The baddest monsters around have been flocking to the capital. Even if they don't get the spot, you know they're probably gonna join up as henchmen.”

“Wait a minute, that card!” you say, an idea hatching in your head like a Blue Breasted Tit chick.

“Iron Will was a henchman for awhile. Awful really, so much box moving,” Iron Will commented idly.

You search around your suit pant's pocket, cutting your finger on the thing, but finding it. The business card they gave you! Is that eggshell with raised lettering? T-that's breathtaking.

“That's a nice card.”

You leer at Iron Will for a quick second, but quickly return your attention to the card. It's shimmers in the sun coming in from the windows. The silvered, raised lettering reads “spin me thrice for a quote on our price.” You're not in need of evil doers, but hopefully they'll still come to talk.

You shrug and follow directions. And then the thing disappears in a puff of smoke.

“What was that? Magic trick?”

You hear a horse whinny, and clopping, loudly. Should have filtered the explicit tag. You and Iron Will both perk your heads up to the sound of crashing on the roof.

“What the hell was that?” you ask, expecting no answer.

Iron Will shakes his head with confusion and rushes outside to see. You follow him closely, leaving the door open. Outside you find what you should have expected, Dickcord, messing with the straw of Iron Will's roof.

“Hey! Get off that, you—” Iron Will pauses, struggling to think of an insult for the combo meal that is Discord.

“Little early for presents, it's still spring, Christmas isn't due for a couple months,” you quip. They should put you in a Marvel movie with these levels of snide remarks.

Discord waves his hand dismissively, and smugly keeps up the bantz, “little early for Halloween costumes, Green Slender Man.”

“So you're interested in our offer, Anonymous. We knew you'd come around.”

“Yes I am curious,” you say with a knowing smile.

“Well,” his voice trails off as he slithers down the house, “the position is up for grabs. We're holding try outs as I'm sure you've heard from your friend here.”

The master of tricks wraps himself around a fuming Iron Will. You squint at the Mega Force member. “You don't think I'm good enough to join you even after defeating Celestia, and Luna for that matter?”

He uncoils himself and tickles your chin with a claw, chuckling. “Not after your suit has been drained of it's power,” he tugs on your tie, “this is just a bit of fancy cloth now.”

“Hmph,” you grunt, shaking free of him. You attempt to straighten out your untucked, wrinkled shirt, and wipe some dirt off your jacket's shoulder. Then you assume your “stance”. Fists up, body loose, face smug.

“Oh, are you suggesting a bout?”

“Keep whatever you two are going to do far away from my house,” Iron Will says with a grunt, trotting off toward his door.
You notice he ducks inside, but watches from within, trying to pretend like he's merely fixing up the house. All too quickly you see him return to the doorway to watch. Discord backs a few feet away from you, and floats up above the roof. You can't jump that high without some boost power from one of your forms. The heat of the sun feels nice on your shoulders, and the first prickles of sweat bead on your forehead. Discord laughs and suddenly sends forth a jolt of lightening. You dodge swiftly, and see the grass beside you blacken and crackle from the energy.

“My lawn!” you hear from inside.

Out from the patch of darkened plant matter, taffy like pink limbs sprout forth. Eldritch whips of candied pink swipe for you, and nearly hit! You feel the bite of one of them, slicing your elbow open. The suit jacket and shirt are no match for the ferocity of Discord's creation and are easily torn through. Blood trickles from your wound.

You should have been paying attention! Another bolt of magic hits your square in the chest, launching you about twelve feet in a straight line back, where you are slammed into a tree. Sharp pain wracks your body! You collapse into the shade of the evergreen, nettles raining down on you. A smile comes to your face despite the pain, and you cough up a bit of blood, wiping it away with a sleeve.

Painbow will be the perfect form to deal with this memester. You sit, waiting for the suit to transform and for your vigor to be restored. Discord waits too, floating just where he was. His candied abomination collapsed on Iron Will's lawn now, flopped over like an elongated cabbage.

There is a pause. Silence aside from a bird's call. Something is wrong! This is taking too long! Then you hear Discord laughing. He does a figure 8 in the sky and soars closer to you.

“Looks like I was right, you've lost your enchantment!”

She really did take it away! Despite yourself, your shock is clear on your face, which gives the king of mischief a hearty giggle.
“That's a real shame. Welp. You're free to try for the position anyway,” he says, floating off towards the clouds, “come to Canterlot sometime, many are gathering and tryouts will start soon.”

“How soon?” you call.

“Eh,” he jiggles his hand, “two weeks or so.”	

That is no time at all.

“Oh, and Iron Will, Neko is getting its television adaptation this season. He can catch it on toonami, but it's being delayed by our competition. Which will be aired on the TV and radio!”

And with that, Discord almost disappears into the aether. But Iron Will is apparently a very fast bullman. There is a blue blur, and a roar.

“When someone messes with your toon, end their life soon,” Iron will yells, stomping into the scene. His nostrils puffed thick clouds of acrid anger, his cloven hooves mashing into the grass, his biceps pumped and chest puffed up too. Looking good Iron Will!

You try to pick yourself up, but you are too fucked up. Your chest aches and felt like it had just caved in. Breathing was hard, but you tried to roll on my side and get the best view of what was about to happen. Discord rolled his eyes and got ready to teleport away with a snap of his clawed fingers, but Iron broke into a charge, horns pointed for the prize. Discord tried to flick away, reacting like a jelly, wiggling away from the blue hairy beast. Too slow for to evade the immovable object! 

With an amazing fury Iron wrapped one hand around the entirety of Discord’s slim body, squeezing like a tube of toothpaste. Through your blurry vision you swore you saw his eyes red and flaming like a bat out of hell. Discord tried to lurch and squirm, but he was in an Iron Grip!

Will hefted him up with both his hands now, holding him high over his horns, he knelt down hard now, rocking the early and nearly rolling you over on your back with the force.

“HOW ABOUT A TASTE OF THIS BULL’S HORNS?” he cried, slamming Discord down on his horns in a sick modified backbreaker.
You saw the villain's tongue loll out like a loose slip of paper, and his eyes go back into his head as he collapsed on the ground. Wrapping one hand around his enemy’s neck and one into a fist Iron was about to show his foe what a real rage looks like.

He pounded the old draconequus into the dirt, knocking out his one giant tooth easily, the sound was as if someone trying to choke a rubber chicken relentlessly. When the enraged bull finally stopped seeing red and cooled off, Discord’s eyeballs were rattling around in his head like clothes in a dryer.

But then they stopped rolling, and Discord regained his composure. Iron Will didn’t react, huffing and puffing to catch his breath, adrenaline spent. With his lion paw the old trickster lashed out, clawing across Will’s nose, which nearly took out his nose ring!

The ol’ bull recoiled, grip loosening on his prey. Discord wicked his hands in a fancy way and summoned up a giant candy octopus! Sticky taffy tentacles slapped against Iron Will’s hard muscles. Lashes and droplets of blood come off in a spray, and Will staggers back, arms waving in a circular motion as he tried to gain some sort of balance.

Discord let out a huff, “not bad kiddo,” and disappeared in a flash.

End of Episode 3, Season 2.
IN THE NEXT EPISODE:
How will Anonymous ever recover his former strength?
Will Anonymous and the Minotaur discover the magic of friendship?
How do you farm rocks?
FIND OUT NEXT TIME ON HORSE LA HORSE!


> Episode 4: Anony Mousboa
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	You manage to get on two wobbly feet. Woozily you wriggle toward Will. Knees weak, palms sweaty and head pounding, you make your way for Iron Will's couch, hoping to lay down.

“I might need your help,” you say, clawing your way inside.

“What for?” the old bull huffs, inspecting his wounds.

“I gotta get that position.”

“No way I'm helping you with that.”

You collapse onto the leather couch, sinking into it a little. “It's for a good cause.”

“Pfft, joining a villain quintet is a 'good cause.' My ass it is.”

He shoves you over and takes a seat for himself, “lodging is a different deal. I've been looking for a roomie anyway. There are some prerequisites though.”

“Listen, if I can manage to infiltrate their group I might have a chance at saving the Princess and the entirety of the Ponyroom kingdom.”	

Iron Will laughs right in your face, nose ring jiggling with each new burst of hilarity, “fat chance after you just got your shit kicked in by Discord. You think you can take on four other SUPERvillains? Laughable. ‘HA’ Iron Will says, ‘HA’ to you.”	

“Alone, maybe not, but you're a rough and tough guy. We could team up,” you already don't like the sound of this Plan B that you're cooking up. You shouldn't really plan. It always goes better when you fly by the seat of your pants.

“Hmm,” Iron Will thinks, tapping his chin.

“Think about it. Two Superheroes, us,” you point between you and him, “against five idiots. Easy pickin's.”

“How about no,” he stands and makes for the kitchen, probably for a drink.

“Get me some water, please my friend?”

He groans but you see him grab two glasses and set to pouring.

“Besides, I haven't fought in a long time. Training on the other hand, I used to do that for fighting types all the time over at my gym.”

“You owned a gym?”

“I was a gym leader. You had to be able to beat me to use cut,” he hands you the water. It heals some HP, but you wish it was a little bit colder.

You've got two weeks, and a lot of work and adjustments to your plan. Plan A is gone now with your suit disenchanted, Plan B could have been cool but meh, it's time for Plan C. And Iron Will is going to be a part of that. Whether he wants to or not.

A day of rest passes. Iron does not bother asking you to leave, and for a moment you think he almost enjoys your company. He feeds and waters you, gently, like someone taking care of a sunflower. He allows you to stay the night on his couch. You lounge about with him, listening to the radio. Most of the news is about Celestia being in the captivity of the Mega Forces, and how Canterlot is now effectively Thunderdome, but some of it is cool radio shows about a Daring mare who Does stuff. Unfortunately, Neko Neko's TV spot has been put on hiatus, which sent Iron Will into a brief rage. He's a powerful dude, from what you can tell. He's buff, and able to send a coffee table through a thatched roof without much effort. Not to mention that royal thrashing he gave Discord. If he could teach you some of his moves, you'd be golden!

“Hey, didn't you say you used to be a henchmen?” you ask over breakfast, not so subtly.

Today's menu featured porridge, freshly squeezed OhJay (no name brand Orange Juice), and a bit of buttered toast with a side of eggs. A healthy way to start the day, and tasty too!

“Yeah! I was for a bit,” he replies cheerily, scarfing down the toast like a ravenous hound, “I was also a trainer at a gym, like I said. Then I became a motivational speaker, and then a bouncer at a club, and then not allowed near Ponyville any more.”

“Well, you look like a big guy with a lot of experience.”

“Getting experience was part of my plan.”

“So what's the next step in your plan?”

“Starting this farm, with no weeds surviving.”

You finish off the last of your drink, and stand to bring your plates to the sink next to the kitchen table. “I was wondering if you could make me buff and big like you.”

“Of course,” he flexes, “anyone can get big as Iron Will, and I believe you've got what it takes.” He nods his head and grins.

“What if we only had two weeks to train? Think you could do it?” you prod.

“I mean, anythings possible I guess,” he looks unconvinced by his own words.

“Ah,” you shrug and begin to saunter off, feigning dejection, “I thought the legendary public speaker and iron pumper Iron Will would be able to help me. Thought wrong I guess.”

“Now hold it!” He jumps to his feet, knocking over his bowl of hot oats and milk. “I said it was possible.”

“Well let's start then, we don't have much time.”

“Okay, if you've got such a death wish I'll train you best I can, get you into shape. You don't look too awful now, but improvements can be made.”

“I also don't have the super powers I used too, so I'm going to have to rely on pure HUMAN strength,” you strike a pose and flex a bit. The suit does not show off your muscles, and Will is unimpressed.

He cleans off his own plate and pushes past you into the living room. “I Will do it on one condition.” 

“Anything!” you chirp.

“You sign a one year contract living and working here as my roommate and farmhand.”

“This is a one room cottage though,” you plead.

“You can sleep on the couch, you did it last night.”

“For a year?” you ask, not feeling good about this.

“Yes, shake on it,” he says, putting forth one singularly hairy arm.

“It’s a deal,” you say, hoping it's not a deal with a hairy devil, “as long as you shave a bit more.”

“Not a chance,” he gaffs. Iron Will begins picking up about the house, idly chatting about ways that he could potentially mold you into a big strong villain. You bounce a couple ideas at him, mega schemes involving world domination, extinguishing the Earth pony race, and steal Canterlot’s biggest diamond in a single night with a team of 12 highly trained and roguish characters. Iron Will reminds you that physical training is the focus, and your spirits are dampened. 

“How’s about a bout?” he suggests.

“About about what?” 

“Yeah, 1 round, whoever goes down first. To gauge your current strength. If you can beat me, I doubt I’d be able to help you.”

Iron Will is turning out to be a tab bit smarter than not at all, you think, nodding in agreement to his proposal. He sets off to the backyard of the house, which luckily has a boxing ring. Who would have though? How convenient, a ring all the way out here, just when you two need it. 
The hardened bullman sets up a boombox, also conveniently nearby, and pops in a familiar tape. 

“You’d be surprised how much music does to improve performance,” he comments, flexing his way through the large pieces of licorice serving as ropes.

You take off your suit jacket and set it on the ground, and roll up your slightly grimy sleeves. Iron Will is not impressed by your attempts to show off your muscles. This does lower your morale. Your body is still sore, and you can feel the lack of power in yourself, you’re all hollowed out. Without a doubt your vitality points have been reduced now that you’re without the enchantments. 

With a click that will be enhanced in post so it will be extremely noticeable, Iron Will turns on the boom box and a tune trickles out.

Theme of Iron Will’s training session:  Pursuit, Cornered - Phoenix Wright

“Iron Will’s gonna pound you into a fine young man,” he says with a laugh, readying up in one corner of the ring, prancing two and fro. He’s moving with unexpected grace and finesse! You assume a monkey stance and drag your hands across the canvas a little, taunting him to move first. 

Iron Will flicks his big snout with his thumb and accepts, jiving into your personal space with sweat, hair and intent to bruise. You think you’ve caught him in your sly trap, and when he’s in range you tense up and try to deliver and upward launching attack that will allow you to continue the combo in the air for style points.

Your pale fist collides with his hairy pectoral area. CRACK! His barrelled chest is hard as rock! Iron Will lets out a grunt of a laugh, watching as you flail your hand in pain. The sweating begins now, as you reevaluate your situation. It’s lookin’ like you’re gonna have a bad time. 

“The Iron Clutch will make you hum-bell,” he roars, butting you with his elbow, which staggers you. He catches you in a spam of r1s to the abdomen, pulverizing your solar plexus into submission. Your body shakes, and you feel like you’re gonna fallover and hurl at the same time. But something keeps you standing. 

“You’re already pinned,” Iron Will says, waving a finger and smiling. He charges into you, hoofsteps shaking the canvas and nearly knocking you over in your delicate state. He circled around behind you, grabbed you hard in some sensitive areas with those big calloused bull hands, and flipped you hard onto the mat.

As a final embarrassment he buried your face in his big patch of chest hair, and counted to 3, slowly as possible. He tasted like sweat and Parmesan, with just a hint of something. What is that? Paprika?

How could you defeat any of the evil mega forces if you can’t even beat Iron Will? Thoughts of loss and defeat and sweaty Italian food with too much paprika on it danced in your head. Your new mentor carried you out of the ring with a spring in his step, proud to have defeated another opponent. He slaps you down on the couch and lets you lie.

End of Episode 4, Season 2.
IN THE NEXT EPISODE:
Can Iron Will's training really help Anonymous?
Will the duo ever make it to Canterlot?
Can the magic of the suit ever be restored?
FIND OUT NEXT TIME ON HORSE LA HORSE!
> Episode 5: Climbing Higher
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	“Iron Will says: Wake up, monkey,” you feel a sweaty, smelly towel whip across your face. That wakes you right the fuck up. Nothing like the smell of wet bullman in the morning. You jolt off the couch and damn near slam your face into the coffee table doing it.
“M-meh,” you groan, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes.
“Your montage starts today, dummy,” he says in a strong tone.
“A-already?”
“We’ve got 13 days starting today, and I was not impressed at all by yesterday’s performance. We need to pump you up if you’re gonna stand a chance against anyone in that tournament.”
“Alright sensei, let’s get to it. Am I gonna be waxing your manga collection to build up my reflexes?”
“No,” he grunts, beckoning you to follow him into the next room.
[CUE TRAINING MUSIC]
Theme of Anonymous' training:  Momma Said Knock you out Instrumental - LL Cool J. 
“First let’s work on that vitality, huh?” The old bull says, tossing you some simple weights. You catch them and give those suckers one or two test pumps, lightweight shit. They couldn’t be more than a pound or two each. 
“Put those down, those aren’t for you. This is though,” he says, pointing to a stellar, glistening with sweat, treadmill.
“Really? That’s some really weak shit for someone of my calibur,” you state, thrust a thumb at yourself with undue confidence.
He cuffs you by the ear and tosses you on the thing anyway, rocking that shit up to maximum immediately. ZWWWIP, it whirs to life under you, pulling you in like a riptide. You try to stay afloat in the mist of sweat and the smell of burning rubber, getting your feet back under you and ready to run to keep up with the thing beneath you.
“This isn’t so bad!” you shout over the machine’s inner workings clunking and clinking, your legs moving like the roadrunner’s in a whir of circular green and black.
“Oh yeah, tough guy?” Iron Will asks smugly, “how bad is this then.”	
You don’t see what he does, but you feel it. A dumbbell collides with your head with massive power behind it. And then another two at your back and leg, thrown like speedballs. The pain sets in immediately, feels like you got pegged on the schoolyard playing Suicide times twenty. 
“Why are you doing this?” you cry out, grasping the treadmill for dear life as your legs threaten to give out.
“This is the first day of your new life, I wanna hear you scream if you want Iron Will to mold you into the monkey man who can take on the Mega Forces,” he says with a grovel, tossing another dumbbell.
You can do little else aside from wheeze, pant, and feel pain, but in your head you’re determined as fuck to end this tale with the Mega Forces under you. 
“Repeat after Iron Will: There is no such thing as pain, it’s all in the brain!” he says cheerfully, dumbbell putting a dent in the back of your skull.
“N-no such thing as pain, it’s all in the meh!” you try to reply, feeling your nonexistence asthma take the words for you.
Two more pink 1 lbs plastic weights to your back, “I can’t hear you~”
“THERE IS NO SUCH THING AS PAIN, IT’S ALL IN THE BRAIN!” you holler, throwing your bruised head back in fury.
“Good, good,” Iron Will said reassuringly, flinging out more weights like a pitching machine of pain. 
FADE TO BLACK.
Camera pans across a large, sunlit, green field. Iron Will, an unassuming goat and Anonymous are standing together in the grassy knoll. 
“Now this here is Iron Will’s signature move,” Iron Will begins, pumping his right arm up and slapping that thick bicep, “do not show the inner workings of this technique to anyone.”
Iron Will slams himself hard on the grass, sweeping the goat’s 4 legs with one arm, a bleat of distress coming from the poor creature. He rolls on top of it, covering it like a ball, and then springs backward on his two hooves, crushing the goat’s head into the floor with a suplex. 
“Hot damn.”
“I call that little number the Iron Clutch, now you give it a try.”
“Alright boss, I think I can manage,” you reply, smiling, remember how much it hurt when you were in that goat’s place. You crack your knuckles and wrench the goat free from the dirt, its horns leaving two three-four inch depressions into the earth. 
You set the dummy up right and get ready. You fall hard on your back, SLAM! As you fall you whip your arm down around the goat’s legs, knocking it over onto its side. With a bombastic roll you mount the bleating, kicking beast, struggling to keep it pinned for the next part. You hear you knees snap into a smoother position as they bend back, back curving like a rainbow. The soothing sound of a goat in pain, and dirt being dug up tells you that something went right.
You erect yourself like a car dealership balloon man, wiggling back up right. After your fights a few days ago, you’re not feeling as limber as before. Maybe it has to do with the suit’s lack of power however. Makes you how much of that power was you and how much was Twilight’s magic.
Iron Will pats you on the back and gives you a kudos, but you don’t pay too much attention. “Something, something, you’re gonna face me in the ring!” he says boisterously, motioning toward a large wrestling ring just a few paces away.
“Wha!?” 

Your boy Will rocked up in something stylin’ today. You hadn’t seen him all morning, and didn’t bother looking for him either. The whole time you were fixing breakfast and getting tense, waiting for a dumbbell to be thrown at you anytime you opened a cabinet. Figuring he was pumping up for your match in some other way, you let him be and mentally prepared in your own way.
That is, by stripping into your boxers and watching re-runs of Neko Neko with a bowl of cereal. That’s carbs right? That stuff is good for you, right? What aren’t you suppose to do before a boxing match? Is it cum? Are you not allowed to cum?
Well, either way, it doesn’t matter now. This is a boxing match, not a virility contest. 
“Get out here you little nerd,” you hear Iron yell. You jump out of your own skin and skeleton strut outside, a nervous jig in your step. Why are you so freaked out? He’s just a bull-man, you literally destroyed a giant metal monster by yourself a couple weeks ago!
Iron Will waves his hand toward the ring, proudly presenting it to you before hopping over the ropes into it. He hits the canvas with a nice “spring” sound. You clamber up the world’s largest twizzlers to get into the ring yourself.
Iron Will gives you a big hairy hand, tugging you up.
“T-thanks,” you begin, but you don’t get a single letter more out before Will chucks you into the nearest turnbuckle, rocking you against the pole with his force. You hang with your arms wrapped against the ropes, unable to move as Will rushes you. He picks you up, on hand grabbing your inner thigh, the other your shoulder, and he bows his head forward. With a swift motion his slams you against his back and then jumps up, spinning so you’d slam into the matt.
Blam! You’re crushed by big blue. He grunts with effort as he tries to crush you into a sweaty mess onto the canvas. Your instincts kick in, and you try to do a pushup to get him off you, and it’s almost working! 
Your muscle connect to the servers, and lock up tightly as you force him off, the big bad bull rolling to your side and slamming on the mat. You jump to your feet, run to the ropes, bounce off them like a maniac, and deliver a sick leg drop to his chest. BOOM! He shudders with the force of your move, spitting up some air and his eyes bulge. 
You help him up, dust him off, and irish whip him into a corner. He grunts as he travels to the turnbuckle, music to your ears. He’s slumped over the corner of the ring, his big arms hanging outside, his muscular back exposed. Time to put his training to use!
“Let me show you how the student becomes the master,” you shout, glint in your eye.
You charge up to him, getting both arms under his legs and lifting, weakly the little hooves of his kick out, and he starts to come to as you pick his furry (m)ass up. 
"No, no, no!" he mutters, desperately trying to get free of your vice grip.
Your biceps burn, and it feels like you can't do it. Beads of sweat develop, but a vital surge of spirit energy hits you. Your training kicks in, memories of all those dumbbells thrown at your head, the pain, the agony! You lift your mentor even higher, and then toss him back at the turnbuckle, completing an amazing powerbomb.
Huffing and puffing, you stagger back a pace or two. Iron Will breaths raggedly, holding his hand up, "good job, ya did good, kid."
"Is that it?"
He shakes his head, "for now. It's enough to convince me to go with you. We'll train more on the road."
You nod your approval back at him, catching your breath still.
"Help me up?"

IN THE NEXT EPISODE:
How will this dynamic duo of humanoids fair in their scheme?
Will the Mega Forces sniff out our heroes and uncover their plans?
Can Anonymous truly redeem himself and right his wrongs?
FIND OUT NEXT TIME ON HORSE LA HORSE!
> Episode 6: Decent Ponypest Motel
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	The train rattled and shook, the clink and clunk of the tracks almost rhythmically trying to put you to rest. Not only did the bristles on the hairy arm of your partner disturb you, but so did a thought that kept plucking at your silly head. Never one for thinking, you fight almost as hard as you do against your enemies whenever a silly thought tries to weasel it's way in. But this one, oh boy this one.

"Yo, Will," you say, straightening your slouching boy up. Only a few minutes leaning against the pane of train car and you're stiff.

"Yessir," he says resolutely, casting his hard glare at you.

You peer over the seat before continuing, nose and eyes just poking over the fabric of the seat like Kilroy (or Chad, for those across the pond). The entire carriage was empty. Not surprising, who would want to go to the capital when it's taken over by villains? You'd just be asking to get mugged.

"You're an old man, right?"

"I detest that," he declares, crossing his arms, "but yes."

"You ever loved anyone?"

Iron Will huffed, fogging up your window and coating your face in droplets. DISGUSTING. You wipe it off on the seat in earnest as he begins to talk.

"I have, many-a-time. Ponies just love hands. But my rambunctious days are over; and I, naturally, have settled down with a minotaur of the gentler sex," he says proudly. 

"Well where is she? I didn't see her at the farm."

"Things are complicated," he grumbles.

There is a brief pause, and then suddenly he demands to know why you ask.

"I'm sort of having trouble with someone I'm suppose to be together with and," the sap was making you sick already. You twirl your hands around and gag to explain away the rest.

"What happened, son?" he questions, patting your back. This nearly knocks you out of your seat.

"In short: I beat up her teacher really bad, and got her hometown captured by a bunch of evil folks."

"Ahh, quite similar to my own story," he says, arching his back and stretching, "well, if you take my advice I'd just stay away for now. Things will sort themselves out, or they won't. But being a man means shielding your emotions away and pretending you never did anything wrong."

What stup(id)endous advice. 

The rest of the ride is about as interesting as it can be on a train. Will pinches the butt on one of the stewardesses, she almost knocks his teeth out, all good fun. When you finally get off, your legs are like jelly. That "after-the-movie" feeling has got itself right in your knees. You nearly collapse in shock when you actually pick your head up and look at what has happened to Canterlot. The massive hole in the palace is still being repaired, and it looks as if dozens of houses have been leveled just for the new creation of a massive building. You turn toward the train attendant, mouth agape, and ask what the hell that massive red thing is.

"Oh, that," she says cutely, smiling, "that's the hotel where all the contestants for the competition are staying! Although you can't see it now, close by it is also the arena."

"They destroyed half the town for a giant arena?"

"Well," she says, "yeah. They're evil you know!"

"Was anyone hurt?"

"Oh, no, not at all. Just displaced."

"Evil enough," Iron Will says, striding by you, his luggage bag slung over his back. 

You hop along right behind him, waving goodbye to the pretty mare and look ahead, toward your future. This scheme was gonna be a rough one to pull off. But you're determined to right your wrongs. You'll save Celestia, wrest Canterlot from the mitts of the Mega Forces, and make nice with Twilight.

The streets still have a lot of ponies in them, some looking dejected, others quite chipper. You notice changelings, bugpones, floating about and within the members of the crowd. They're holding weapons, probably the new guards. You elbow Iron Will and motion to them, he says something about henchmen.

You see quite a few large monsters all heading to the same place, competition to fight, you bet. There is a grumpy looking, scarred up unicorn taking entry cards. You and your boy get in without a hitch, proudly presenting the Mega Forces business card, apparently they don't hand that out too much. Your special treatment stops after being waived of the "trial" testing however, and your herded over to the hotel.

It's quite grand actually, maybe a bit of an improvement aesthetically compared to the rest of Canterlot. It was huge, box shaped by decorated in its architecture similar to Gothic cathedrals. For some reason, they thought it wise to adorn the entirety of it with large banners depicting the current members of the Mega Forces, all smugly grinning at the droves entering their newly constructed hotel.  

You waltz past the attendant waving people in, ignoring his words until now, soaking in the sights.

"Welcome to HOTEL MEGA!" he shouts right in your ear, grandiose and with vigor, as if to punctuate the end of whatever speech he was spewing. The camera pans up, following your eyes as you look up at the banners while entering, seeing them from an odd angle. What a shot!

Ear drums popped, but spirit at a high, you're shocked to see how many are crowded in such the lobby. An earth pony bellhop giddy rips your bags from your arms and declares that he'll take you to your room. You try to reason with him, and say you haven't even checked in yet, but it's no use, and you have to charge after him to make sure your shit doesn't get stolen. You lose sight of Iron Will among the crowd and bustling visitors, but you didn’t worry for now. He's a big boy. 

Looking at some of these visitors, you’re not sure how to feel. Of course there are a bunch of regular looking ponies, even some zebras and griffons. But poking out like sore thumbs, the “oddities”. Creatures pretty much like you, a glomb of greenish goo, slicking around, clearing the crowd around him. A well dressed, snobbish looking little mudpone, perhaps not so deserving of his dirty heritage. A slimy little hunchbacked lizard, turning over his hands while slithering around. Just like you, they're searching the crowd for their competition. You’re gonna have to fight some of these folks, maybe not all of them but at least a few. Not that you’re having doubts, but meh, it’ll be a lot of work.

There is one that really stands out to you. Menacing wouldn't even begin to describe him. He parted the crowd like the Red Sea, tall, on-fire, and banded by odd iron rings. It was a walking, humanoid slog of magma, constantly flowing inside its magically contained form. Two churning coals for eyes scanned the room before him as a shivering bellhop led him toward the elevator. You wonder if you could take on such a fierce fiery foe. Only time and further alliterations will tell. . .

You get a room on the fourth floor, #403 to be exact. It’s “compact”, but close to the stairs, so that’s something. You tip the bellhop by letting him in on the secret that hollowing out a jalapeno can allow it to be used as a makeshift fleshlight if he’s desperate. With a grimace and a look of disgust he slams the door behind him, leaving you to your lonesome. 

You flop back onto your new bed, hoping icky stains and bedbugs weren’t just out of view, and stare up at the ceiling. When will your first match be? Who will it be against? How long will you and Iron be able to last?

The TV in the room flicks on itself, the sound of it warming up reminding you of home actually. The colors are slightly faded, but you make out the unmistakable face of Discord, the other Mega Forces behind him. 

“Hello there friends! You have chosen, or been chosen, to be relocated to one of our finest hotels. All your needs, from essentials like meals to lovely little extras like massages, will be paid for by us while you remain here. Rest well, and be sure to check out the bracket in the lobby, tomorrow will be the first round of fights! Depending on your skill rating, you may be slotted against a pairing of weaker villains, or you yourself may have to contend solo. This first round of eliminations will go by quicker than you think, and your true skills will be tested!"

He cackles madly, the MF logo appears, a sponsor says something about bird watching guides, and it shuts off. You roll your eyes and give a hand wave, mumbling "meh" for no one else but yourself. Mini-fridge, mini-tv, mini-bed, classic hotel, motel, holiday inn. It's cozy though, the only other part to the room was the bathroom, but it felt nice. You scroll open the window shades, overlooking the patio surrounded on three sides by more hotel and OH! A POOL!

You didn't bring your floaties, but hell if you weren't gonna go for a dip anyway. Fuck the lobby, you'll go later when it isn't crowded by fifteen bajillion other people all trying to look at the brackets too. You've got the whole day to finally relax after all that training with Iron Will, might as well use it.

Towel under arm, and nothing on but your skivvies, you scramble down the stairs leading to the patio, surprisingly not seeing anyone. You throw open the emergency exit and gallop right for that crystal blue pool. The smell of chlorine and summer! You're so pumped you don't notice the big ol' orange pony standing proudly in front of you, and you tumble right over her. She's knocked to the ground with you, tumbling to the sun baked stone. 

"Oh, it's you."

"Yes, it's me," Sunset (sun)beams, picking herself up and blasting all the dust off herself with a spell. 

"You're in the comp too?" you ask, dusting yourself off regular.

She knocks you with a spell that hastens the process but you don't thank her, "yes I am. I see you've come with a friend."

"How do you know?" you ask, whipping your head around, looking for Iron Will. He always shows up out of nowhere.

"I saw you at the train station," she flicks her hair back and then hands you your discarded towel, "you've paired up with a minotaur?"

"Yeah, so?"

"Just making conversation," she shrugs. As you would expect a pony shrugging looks highly unnatural. 

"Well I'm going for a dip, catch you 'round, Sunset," you say haughtily.

She rolls her eyes and trots off, but you see her flick her tail as she leaves. You've seen that tail flick before, somewhere . . .

"Relaxing, finally, by my lonesome," you sigh, eyes lidded against the brightness of the sun. The coolness of the water on your lower half, the warmth of the sun on your upper body. Your muscles are already loosening from their tense state. Being such a small pool, you're half-squat floating in the water, so its more like a coldtub. The Jacuzzi of chillin' out instead of heating up. 

"Yes, all by our lonesome," a huge, bristle boar of an arm wraps around your neck like a boa constrictor, the voice of Iron Will tickling your eardrums. Hot breath heats up your sensitive skin, sending one of those "hot chills" down your spine.

He squeezes you closer, stuffing your face in his chest and kissing your head before releasing you, "you ok little buddy?"

"Y-yeah, fine," voice hoarse and jaw clenched like a mousetrap.

"Did you talk to Sunset Shimmer yet? What a gal, real go-getter. She met me in my room, wished me good luck. Says she's an old friend of yours!"

You nearly jump out of your boxers, "an old friend!?"

"As she puts it," he begins elbowing you and grinning, "was she an old flame?"

"Was that a pun?" you grunt, a deep pain piercing your soul. This was suppose to be a relaxing outing!

"So, you know who you're fighting?" Will asks, glancing over at you, pulling gently at his own nose ring. 

"Nah, didn't check," you ease back next to him, consigning to your fate of nestling against Iron Will's barrel chest. 

"Well, I'm up against some sucker called Ahuizotl, and you're going up against Smooze? Silly names but,  should be easy, at least at this level — I'm confident we'll dominate," he gives you a mighty thumbs up, the shine of his teeth nearly blinding you.

You flinch, feeling an incoming nuggie that never lands, "yeah same," you finally reply. 

"Smooze," he tastes the word, almost mooing with those double-Os. 

"Owie zoe tell," you say slowly, trying to pronoun it right. 

The two of you recline for a few hours, but eventually split up after awhile, both mumbling something about prepping for the battles. You exchange your extra room keys just in case of emergencies. No training today, just a mental psyche up. You go to bed early after snacking on  little bottles of liquor, and a BIG PEGASUS cinnamon roll in the mini-fridge. Thankfully all the XXX movies and snacks were automatically paid for with your room, otherwise you'd be about $300 (converted from bits and adjusted for inflation) in the hole. 

Smooze will be your opponent, and this time, all you've got are your wits and Iron Will's training. You've fought tougher, but somethings telling you this won't be an easy brawl.


IN THE NEXT EPISODE:
Will Anonymous be able to defeat this mysterious combatant, The Smooze?
What did Sunset Shimmer's tail flick really mean?
Can Iron Will prevail against his foe, Ouchie oats all?
FIND OUT NEXT TIME ON, HORSE LA HORSE SEASON 2
	


> Episode 7: Here comes the Smooze, Smoozing Along
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	You rub your temples, sitting on the edge of your bed. The first fight of your competition! You hope to god Iron Will's strength training will be enough. Flicking through his lessons in your head, you wonder how many of them you'll be able to apply. The Iron Clutch seems like an amazing move, but too flashy unless the opponent is already injured. Before you can really sit and think of a strat to pull on this Smooze guy, a knock comes at the door. 

A snotty looking changeling whisks you off through the hotel to a small green screen and camera set up in the back. The smartly dressed Filthy Rich standing next to a giant pool of "Melon Fusion" green Jell-o ©.

"Where's my opponent?" you demand, searching around the set. You pick up a tarp, tossing it up, revealing not the Smooze but a bunch of boxes.

"Ahem," Filthy retains his sterling smile, speaking through gilded teeth, "please take your spot on the black X, we're starting in 1 minute."

You shrug and roll your peepers, finding the X of tape, standing with it between your feet. Crouching and posing, you give the camera in front of you, and its operator, the "DJ Ez Rock" Hip-hop squat. The changeling behind the camera averts his eyes from your piercing gaze. 
Studio ponies charge about as someone counts down from 60. You catch a choking whiff of perfume as two little horsies run right back you to fix up the . . . jello?

They toss a bowtie and Top hat on him. Wait just a goddamn second here.

"We're live!" a Pegasus with a headset calls down from the rafters above. Tat falls around as he flaps away to the "blind spot" of the cameras.

"Hello, and welcome to the first day of the Mega Forces hosted Very Violent Villain Competition! Today we've got the Smooze," he motions to the glob, hitting it with his microphone, which sends a seismic jiggle through the thing, knocking its hat off. 

That's the Smooze? This gloopy, glopy, glimy, slimey Dez of a blob. It's not even sentient, is this some sort of joke? You look around for a cue card, but find none.

"He's the strong and silent type," Rich concludes, tearing the mic from the Smooze's "mouth", a bit of goo splatters on the ground. He wheels around to you, smiling all the while, "And here we have Anonymous, hailing from parts unknown."

"Meh," you grunt.

"Care to describe yourself using percentages?"

You squint at him, "Uh," you begin counting on your fingers, "Ten percent luck, twenty percent skill, fifteen percent concentrated power of will, five percent plea—"

"Okay, okay we get it, that's enough," Filthy barks, slicking back his mane again and facing the camera, "get hype and get ready for these two to duke it out in the Colosseum at noon right after Sunset Shimmer faces down with Svengallop!"

You get snatched off stage by a Vaudeville Hook when the cameras go dark, clunked on the head by some unseen assailant and shoved in the direction of where the arena is. Being set on this dusty path, you feel inclined to follow it. Like the man with no name (which you are) you carefully trudge along this windswept, cobblestone path. Ahead, the roar of a crowd, the sound of popcorns and concession, and the smell of combat. Some guards wave you in, rushing you toward the gated entrance to the fight arena. You must say, it's convenient, just a moments stroll from the hotel. 

With rattle and shake, the gate throws itself open, and the sound of the audience gets louder. You hear an announcer babbling, and see a familiar, grinning face waiting for you at the opening. Iron Will gives you a big thumbs up, patting you on the back as you head in.

"I got your entrance music all set up, bud!" he roars. 

You ghost past him, heading straight for the sunbaked arena, a light dusting of sand had been sprinkled on the stone ring. The bright noon sun shone right in your eyes, it was in fact high noon. 

Theme of Anonymous' first entrance:  Candy Candy - GUMI Vocaloid

"Here comes, Anonymous, the 'human', whatever the hell that is," the announcer calls, the crowd begins to roar, but grows quickly silent when the lyrics to your entrance music kick in. You search the crowd with just as confused a face as many of theirs. 

"What the hell is this?" you say to yourself, turning on a heel to see Will's wide smirk. He shoots you a thumbs up, and then motions that you should pose.

"Meh," you grunt, stripping off your jacket and loosening your tie. Oh yeah, that gets the crowds attention back. In a flash your shirt is undone by three buttons, the perfect amount for a bit of manly cleavage. Mares swoon, stallions get pumped, and you're feeling right at home actually. The yells of the crowd resonate with you, filling you with determination. 

"And his opponent, the slimy Smooze!" the announcer does his best to make him sound intimidating, but the crowd isn't buying it. And neither are you! The big green booger rolls in, and if you didn't know better you'd say it was smiling. The two of you size each other up, you pacing clockwise, him sploozing counter-clockwise. 

A bell is struck, and you break out into a charge, kicking up sand as you streak across the arena. With a roar you raise up your fist, and throw it downward at this thing's rounded head. In a shock turn of events, that perplexes you as it happens, your fist bounces off with a comical "boing" sound, flying right back at your chin and sending you on your ass.

"Whoa!" the announcer hoots, "if the Smooze could talk, I'd bet he'd be saying 'Why are you hitting yourself?' right about now."
You stumble and fumble to your feet, only to be knocked down by a blob of projectile goo, which lands right on your chest. It feels like you just got hit by a train, you stagger but barely hold your ground. Your body feels heavy, shaky, knees weak—Oh, already used that one. It feels like you're weight down by about an extra twenty-five pounds.

"Do you like that?" a snarky voice says! It's Q. You mean, Discord! He's leering down at you from inside the booth, a grin under his hate-filled eyes.

"Not quite."

"I'll have you know Smooze is a good friend of mine, and he has my full support and love!" his face curls into a smile most wicked.

Smooze jiggles left and right in confirmation. You likewise shake, trying to get that goo off, but you simply slough to one side.

"You're weak, Anonymous, and the Smooze has been personally mentored by me, Discord!"

The dragon-pony-thing looms over you from the viewer box, somehow his shadow seeping through the window and projecting itself on you, the Smooze covered with it as well. 

"I don't want to hear it, nerd! Meh," you grunt, flicking off the ball of goo with one swift motion chopping motion of your arm, "I'm a strong human being with a burning vital spirit worthy of being a member of the Mega Forces. Suit or not, this Smooze is going down! AND I'LL BE YOUR NEW CO-WORKER, DISC-BOY."

SPLIP! SPLONK! Two more goo balls, two more heavy things bearing down on you. One hangs off your left arm, another on your right leg. Like red hot irons bricks knocking into you. You fall to a knee, grunting in effort. It's too much! Iron Will's strength training wasn't enough. 

"Anonymous is down! And the Smooze approaches!"

The crowd starts chanting "boaw, boaw". 

"Something that is coming down, have you heard the news!" the announcer bellows on the mic.

The sun is blotted out above you, your eyes dart up, to the vaguely smiling Smooze. He's elongated himself, getting taller and thinner, and spreading out like a great wall. He's opening like a mouth! How the hell are you getting out of this now? You try to lash out, but only serve to miss your swings and fall on your side, the weight is getting heavier!

Discord cackles madly, and your head becomes heavy. M-maybe you can't do it, this is your first fight, and you can hardly hit the guy! Discord is right, without that suit, maybe you really are nothing. . .

"Hey what the hell, you're not suppose to be in—" the announcer bumbles. 

"THAT'S MY BOY IN THERE," Iron Will yells. The mic pops as it's batted around and changes hands. The ol' Bull bashes past Discord and the announcer, stalwart and muscle-bound.

"Anon, this is Iron Will speaking," Iron Will speaks. 

Your eagle eyes dart through the semi-translucent Smooze and to the announcers booth just ahead, Iron Will stands proudly, the headset stretched over his giant meat head, he throws you a thumbs up. Your spirits surge as you see him!

"Sometimes you have to let your opponent win, so that you can win!" he yells, batting Discord's claws away as he grabs for the mic. 

You squint at him in confusion, albeit he wouldn't be able to see your gesture. 

What did he fucking mean by this?

You grab idly at the lump on your leg, prying it off successfully. The Smooze is turned toward the booth too, he's distracted. But what did Iron Will mean? You struggle to get to both feet, left arm hanging like an ape's. With great effort you painstakingly drag yourself inch by inch back, all the while trying to peel the smooge off yourself. Whipping around like a scarf in 50 MPH wind, the Smooze has its not-eyes pinned on you. In the back, the cries of Iron Will as he's dragged off by about a baker's dozen of Changelings.

I'm gonna get devoured by this thing at this rate. You pant, feeling tired and weary. A headache starts to build. The pain in your chest, arm and leg pulses, reminding you that you're injured. Like a sprawling spider you bounce away, trying not stay too long on one limb. Cart-wheeling away does you good, and gets a round of applause from the crowd.

The mighty Smoosh dives and crashes, a tsunami of goo flooding out, which you just barely evade. You're just about to sing your own praises when a tentacle of light green shoots out from the flat pool. It wraps around your forearm tight, tugging you in! Not a moments reprieve for you in this fight!

"Yes, yes!" Discord yells, swirling around the booth like a giddy schoolgirl, the announcer lazily adjusting himself and trying to get his work space in order.

A karate chop does not severe the connection, nor does your tugging and wiggling. Heels grind against the ground as you try to halt being sucked in, but it's no use! Searing pain, like hot oil, coats the leg that's being enveloped. Tears well in your eyes, but through the salt you see your pants, let alone your leg, is not being dissolved into mush. It crawls up your thigh, and then catches your other leg. You shut your peepers tight and let it happen, thinking, buying time. 

You thrash vaguely, like a Pokemon without PP. A thought comes to your p-brain! It's just a sensation, some sort of trick! A vile toxin causing pain, you waggle your leg violent, ignoring the pain but letting out a yelp anyway. It's still movable! 

Vore is not your fetish, but you've been consumed. Seconds tick by like hours, you tentatively open your eyes, like a kid in a pool. At last you truly see! The dark, harder core in the center, that's got to be his control center. He's like a jellyfish! They have that stuff right? You do a single butterfly stroke, forcing yourself to the core. Searing pain, like a screaming steak on the grill, hits you all at once.

Instinct takes over in this moment. Two entire weeks of practice, hardcore training, and enhanced movements activate. You wrap your arms around the core, squeezing. You will yourself to gain footing in this ooze, slamming you feet heavy onto the ground, breaking the outer shell of the Smooze. 

"HURAAAGHH!" you scream, bubbles coming from your mouth into the sizzling Smooze. You pull up and back, flipping the core over your head in the penultimate IRON CLUTCH. 

Vision goes dark, you roll on your side, mindlessly moaning in pain. Through half-lidded eyes you see the world on its side. The arena floor . . . sand, bits of green.

WAIT!

You throw your eyes open, the Smooze is gone! Splattered into myriad chunks. Your body is numb, tingling and stiff, but you can sit up. Head pounding, hands shaking, you let out a riotous laugh. IT WORKED! The crowd is cheering and jeering. Discord screams and wails, weak fists hitting the glass. Clutching your side with your hand you get your feet under you and stand. Wobbling like a top you stagger about, feeling a slight weight on your lapel. Looking down, there it was, a hunk of the dark green core. Before you can say or do much, it gets wicked away into the cloth, and the weight is lifted.

You point with one finger up to Discord, smiling grimly. Your side is killing you, and you clutch it with your free hand.
"Meh," you groan, walking to Iron Will's waiting mitts, he pats you on the back heartily, and says some words. You won your first match! That's great, but now you need an ice pack.

"You won't last you damned Ape!" Discord shouts as you're dragged off, his voice trailing away.


TO BE CONTINUED...

> Episode 7.5: Strike when the Iron is HOT
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	. . .Earlier that day. . .


"Now, Iron Will, you're coming out of retirement from being a henchman and forsaking your workout and motivational speaking career for a chance at being a member of the Mega Forces here at the Colosseum in Canterlot. Is this correct?"

You snatch the mic away from the jabroni holding it, "that is perfectly correct Filthy Rich, and might I say I am loving what the Mega Forces are doing with the place. There may be some things I would change but it's certainly an amazing new decor with both princesses out of commission and the forces of evil holding the reins."

Filthy R grunts and wrestles the mic back, shaking his head at you and adjusting his tie. You smile for the camera and wink. You must look amazing! Chest unshaven and shaggy, horns polished but deadly, nose ring glittering. 

"Your opponent is Ahuizotl, and he is no laughing matter—"

"HA, HA, HA," you swipe that mic and get close to the camera, moving with such swiftness your nose ring flaps up and flicks the lens as you halt in front of it, "Aku-whatever your name is, I'm having a laugh at you pal. And you know what? So are these pythons," you flex your arm and tap the mic against it.

"Hear that pulsating? That's strength brother. And I've got a lot of it. Heck, I've got enough to adjust that overbite of yours my friend, and our match is gonna end with you hitting the floor, your face rearranged to my desigggggnnnn. Yeah that's right brother, because you got about a thirty-three and one third chance of beating me in the ring, ya hear me?" you tap the camera lens furiously, neck veins pumping.

"So that means I've got a sixty-six and two thirds chance of winning today. But hold on, remember the gun show? NO? Lemme remind ya," you give them a Mister Olympia winning "front lateral spread" pose.

"There is your reminder, so you know I'm a genetic freak, and being a genetic freak that means I get a twenty-five percent bonus. YOU CAN'T BEAT ME. Ahuizotl, you're gonna step into that ring with your dumb forward eyeballs and an eight and one thirds chance of winnin' boy. Yeah that's right, I've stacked up a 91 and two-thirds chance of grinding your jabroni ass to paste, and you can take that to the bank."

You power bomb the the mic to the ground and walk off stage, leaving the crew and Filthy Rich to pick up the pieces. Waltzing off the set you feel high as a kite, but a small part of you worries if your age will put you at a disadvantage against your opponent. Only time will tell. . .

Midday rolls around, and the messenger fetches you from your hotel room. You briefly wonder how your student is doing in his bout, but you put it out of your head to focus on yours. With luck both of you will get close to the Mega Forces but it probably won't happen. If he doesn't make it, it'll fall to you to carry on the plan. That makes you feel a bit strange, and a bit old. You rub your ol' horns, pondering. Maybe you should have stuck to recording dumb shit on the internet for five dollars or lower.

A pair of changelings escorted you from the hotel to the arena, crafted in less than a week with the blood, sweat and magic of a ton of imprisoned ponies. All of which were released and given free season passes to the Colosseum's events. Not so evil after all, actually. The sun was bright today, and the air just a few degrees over 20 °C. Pretty perfect weather if I do say so myself. Good spring weather. 

You start up a brisk pace to your destination. Just now you're realizing what entrance music you gave to the announcer. Your pumping with anticipation, you know the crowd is simply going to go hog wild when your music blares over those speakers. Being a total pro at this, you've got many years of experience making amazing entrances and wooing the crowds. This time will be no different. Ahuizotl will be a massive pushover, and there is no way in hell he can work the crowd like you can. That sorry sap with five hands is gonna be easy peasy lemon squeezey. 

The nicety of Canterlot, the fountains and bushes and plant life gave way to broken up dirt and the roar of a crowd as you got closer to the new facility. You turn your head back on the nice white buildings and cobblestone, looking forward to the gritty sandy-colored walls of the round arena. 

The guards usher you in, you're late they say, the gates closing with a rattle behind you as you enter, sun in your eyes and yelling in your ears. "AND TO FACE HIM: HERE COMES THE BIG BAD BULL, IRON WILL!" The announcer yells, the crowd cheering and spouting your name. The speakers crackled to life, and it begins to play!

Theme of Iron Will:  [Ready! The Idolm@ster 2]

Ahuizotl stomps at the dirt to try to intimidate you, and then his dog-like ears catch the music. The crowd fell silent quickly, mumbling confusion came from all around. You flexed your bicep, kissed it, and posed like a big bronze god. Some of the crowd regained their faculties, but Ahuizotl was too busy shouting to the announcer to turn it down. 

"Look out!" the spokespony yelped in his "radio" voice, trying to warn the silly mutant dog.

You are already 3/4ths of the way toward him, hooves smashing dirt to paste and arm raised up for a sick overhead. CLUNK! Fist hits skull, and you shove Ahuizotl to the earth, his dump overbite digging an inch into the ground. You place your foot on his head and pose for the crowd.

"A taunt, daring move from Iron, but look! It's not over."

You feel something grapple your leg, that bastard's hand-tail squeezes your thigh, claws digging into your fur. Grunting in pain, you wince, pulling away. Not a chance! Ahuiztol spins his neck around like an owl, bones cracking as his body faces you, pushing off his back all four of his hands hit you hard. Two feet in your chin and two hands knocking into your legs.

"He's put him off balance folks! Not seconds in and this is already a technical match!"

You go down like Santa in a chimney. Ahuzitol has the upper hand(s) now, pinning you with five grimy paws. But the music is in your veins! He's got you pinned, but he's starting to sweat. Thrashing like a fish out of water is breaking his grip, then suddenly his arms give out and it frees your hands. Spending a ki point, you deliver a flurry of blows to his abdomen, the compliment of the sound turbine engines and rushes of wind accompany each strike.

The dog-thing reels back, body shuddering. He collapses on his back like a flipped over bug. You are too old to repeat the same mistake twice, this time you don't grandstand so obviously. But you're smart, you put on a show. You start huffin' and puffin' like a big bad bull, pacing around him, muscles flexing as you raise up your fists in a generic boxing stance. Your eyes are locked on him down on the floor, he hazily glances at you, head trying to pick itself off the floor, swinging here and there.

The announcer is working with you, pumping up the crowd for your success. Damn you're dumb, you think suddenly. Ahuizotl's tail-hand swings for your legs, smacking into your left leg, taking you off balance. Why did you pace so close! You stumble, mind going into that "I'm gonna fall" state, and that is not where you wanna be.

He spins on his back and kicks with both legs at your off balance knee, toppling you. "LOOK AT THAT REVERSAL!" the announcer shouts, your opponent cackling to himself.

"First you, then Daring-Do, then the world!" he shouts, pouncing on you. Not so quick! You instinctively try to ram him with your horns, but your thick head gets shoved back to the ground by one of his paws. Dirt and sand gets all up in your eyes, you spit and shake, trying to get it off. All the while you can feel the hammering of his tail-hand and free left hand, doing a number on your liver. With your head and hands all pinned there isn't much you can do.

Except buck like hell! You bring your meaty legs into position, gearing them up like pistons, and POW! You launch him halfway across the arena, his grip being ripped off you by the force of your strike. Now is the time for grandstanding! You charge after him after recovering your footing. 

"IRON WILL MAKE YOU HUMBLE!" you roar, baseball sliding into a position where you can deliver to your enemy an Iron Clutch (in 30s or less, or your money back, and that's an Iron Guarantee). As if on cue, Ahuizotl had staggered up, half crouched over, facing the stands and not you. With your two unshaven arms you wrap around him, and pick him up for the finishing suplex!

SLAM! A cloud of dust rolled out from the center of the impact. 

"ARRRGHHH!" he yelps, hands naturally patting his injured back as he writhed in pain. You pose and roar, feeling the hype, and starting to feel all the pain from those hits. You're gonna need a power nap after this.

"That's it folks, Iron Will passes onto the next bracket! Thanks for attending everyone! And everyone at home, stay updated for a new installment of Bird Watching 101, tonight we have expert Sky Watcher on. . . "

TO BE CONTINUED. . .
> Episode 7.75: Forbidden Sun
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	[Theme of Sunset Shimmer]

No More Heroes 2: Desperate Struggle OST: Philistine [Japan Ver.]


"This is for you, Mane-iac!" Sven shouts, blowing a kiss to the stands. The purple beast simply looks away and ignores him, which you can't help but laugh at. Sven laughs too, "enjoy it while you can, for soon you'll be in too much agony to be smug!"

He gallops at you with immense speed, but you casually throw him off track with a simple spell, retorting with a stiff buck to his side, which sends him across the arena.

"Hmph," you grunt, sending a pillar of sparkling fire up, to which the audience roars in praise, "too easy."

He recollects himself, adjusting his hair, and wiping a bit of blood off himself. He reveals two cans of something from his coat pockets.
"Know what this is, Sunny?" he asks mockingly, stalking over to you. You remain silent, scanning him over as he stalks over. "It's hair spray, stiffening hair spray!"

Two jets of aerosol shoot out at you from two directions, trapping you. Thinking, and moving, far too slow, you opt to dodge into one to avoid both. You make it out relatively okay, with just a bad taste in your mouth.

You glare at him, rotating to face him again, but your body feel stiff. He nods and grins as you feel your coat, mane and tail become almost entirely frozen, making it impossible to move. You mouth creaks open with great effort.

He shakes a can, "cat got your tongue?" he says with a chuckle worthy of a king, tossing away the two cans. "Now you're at my mercy!" He rears up on his hindlegs.

I can't move! Your horn still works for sure, and crackles with energy as he approaches.

"Careful now, it's flammable," his face filled with unbridled mirth.

Flammable? I'd burn myself up

He runs a hoof along your side and breathes heavily in your face. Then, an idea! You muster what magic you can and cast a simple Force spell, blasting the spray from you, and splattering it over Sven and the arena. Next, the instant your body is free, you spark the liquid, burning up Sven and the rest of the fluids.

He howls in pain as he stops, drops and rolls. Huffing and puffing as he pats himself down and gets to his feet. You can't help but pose for the cheering crowd. Who knew kicking pony ass in a stadium felt this good? His one trick is used up, and now it's time for the kill!

With glitz and superfluous motion you weave a tapestry of elegant burning lines around yourself. Like a long wick slowly burning they twirl around you, forming a pair of dazzling wings. Sven is stunned, taken aback even. He shifts his hooves and loses ground. You push the offensive, running and jumping, wings burning away as they give you extra high.

You soar right over him like a leaf in the wind, gliding with the grains of dust drifting in the air. He's shocked, swinging for you weakly, but he can't reach. You dive down hard, smashing a hoof hard into his flank. He winces and recoils, bucking your chest. It knocks your ass flat to the dirt with surprising force. Before you can even pick your head back up something hard lashes out at you, whipping your eye. 

"Argh!" you yelp, slithering away and to your feet, one hoof covering your injured eye.

What was that? Some hidden power? Maybe this earth pony is more than I expected.

"Wondering what hit you? That scowl you're giving me says so much. . ." he chides, pacing around you slowly. 

You quickly get back on your hooves, summoning up a fleeting fiery barrier to give you some more space. Sven laughs loudly at seeing this.

"Defensive measures? Not as in control as you first thought."

Can't let him get to me. I need an opening, then I could potentially catch him in a combo.

He quickly combs his hair.

"Sven is taunting his opponent! He remains relatively unscathed, while Sunset is wearing 1 half of a pair of griffon sunglasses!"

You glare at your opponent, trying to manifest your seething rage into magical force. The bitter taste of copper tickles your tongue, so you spit the blood in your mouth out on the ground. The arena was streaked with scorch marks and cracked stone. Sven was smirking, pacing around you, his elegant mane fluttering slightly in the wind. His glasses were cracked, tie sliced in half, and suit otherwise ruffled but he was in top shape.

He stops suddenly, rearing up and cackling, clapping his hooves together, "pathetic! No wonder Nightmare Moon threw you to the timberwolves!"

H-how does he know!? 

"Oh yes, I know about you Sunset, I can smell your fear," he poses once again for the silence crowd, "how could you hope to defeat me? I trained under Mane-iac herself, the wicked witch of the east." He puffs up his own mane and coos, "yes, this entire endeavor was futile on your part. No amount of fire magic or martial arts could defeat my ace in the hole, my Wicked Weave, Madama Nyx!"

A tendril of his raspberry hair, entwined with illusory flame, sprouts out from behind him, flowing down from his mane and tail. Chunks of stone flew up as they broke through the ground, flinging them into the stands. Wait, he's not — Sven quickly rights himself, with the help of huge swirling, curling strands of hair. Out from what was previously a tightly kept quaff comes tentacled strands of hair not unlike Mane-iac's own! The tentacles sprawl out into 8 mane hands, the thick arms ending in smaller claws of three.

"Do you know why my beloved Mane-iac threw me out? Do you know how I manage to make all the stars I dress up look so stunning? This power of course!"

"Save your monologue for —"

"YES SUNSET! There is no way you can defeat me, I've made a blood pact with this Barber Shop Demon! Mane-iac is jealous, but I will win her back! I will show her we can rule as two!" He blows a kiss up to the viewing booth. You don't even bother looking up there, you've got your eyes on his discarded can of hair spray. A plan is formulating! This idiot has sealed his own fate, you think, not able to hide your smugly grin. He's distracted, so you dip low and combat roll to the can of hair spray.

"Not so quick!" he calls, shooting up a tendril right under the can. It's pierced, splattering what little remained on the stone, on you, and most importantly on his hair tentacles! 

"And now, feel the full brunt of my power!" he cries, sending out two dozen thin streaks of hair. The sound is like zip ties moving so fast they'd catch fire, and all of them striking right at you! And from every angle!

But here is when you turn your back and flick your mane, a hay-eating grin beaming on your face, "for a beautician you've seemed to forgot how your own tools work!"

"How!?" he cries, you glance over and see him struggling to move forward, and all of his hair is frozen in place too.

The glossy sheen of hair spray was all over his hair! His hair stiffened into stone, and his face was red and flush. 

"Is that hair product, or are you just excited to see me?" you call, horn sparking with fire magic, "lets heat this place up!"

With a flick of your horn the tips of the hair caught alight, and the fire rises! Crackling flames burst and spread wildly, counterattacking Sven in his moment of triumph, burning his mane down to the scalp. Your coat is singed as the product reacts to your spell, but nothing more.

"Whoa! What a show," the announcer calls over the sounds of Sven's screaming, "a fiery mare and a fiery ending. I think it's decided that Svengallop is no more!"

You trot over to him, charred black and crying on the floor. Wisps of his hair float around him, a lot more than singed. 

"Ace in the hole, huh?" you ask, stomping a hoof down on his side, "bad show."

Suddenly you wince, great pain strikes your head, instinctively your hoof shoots to your head, feeling squirming! It feels as if your hair was being pulled out of its roots. Quickly you magic up a reflective surface, searching for the source of the pain and finding nothing but a of lighter blonde hair running through your mane.

Sven's hair demon? He had this same streak in his hair. You have nary a moment to think on it, as Changeling guards descend to collect you and him, clearing the arena for the next fight. . .

End of Episode 7, Season 2.
IN THE NEXT EPISODE:
How will Anonymous,
Iron Will,
And Sunset fair in their next fights in the Very Violent Villainous Competition?
FIND OUT NEXT TIME ON HORSE LA HORSE!

> Episode 8: Night Trap!
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	As you swing open the door to your room you hear the crinkle of paper. Right there, stuffed under the door, a note.

"Meh," you groan, bending down to get it.


Hello, Anonymous, this is Sunset Shimmer. Please meet me in the Hotel's in-house fine dining area at 6pm. Dress sharply. This is Non-negotiable.


Fine, I'll go to this silly meeting, but I won't like it! After a quick shower, you're feeling better. Most of your skin was a nice babyish red-pink, and tingling but you bet there isn't any lasting nerve damage. R-right? All too soon it's 5:50 o'clock, and time for your date business meeting. You hadn't even known there was high class food court in this hotel. Nothing says decadence, class and upper crust like food court.

Unfortunately for you, soda machines, vending machines, and cooks stuck in dead end jobs behind glass, cooking low end food is not what you find. Rather, red carpets, up tight servers and a smartly dressed maître d'. There is a long line of ponies and other monsters, some with their sweethearts or by themselves. Before you can even sigh in disappointment, the surly-looking head waiter pushes past the others to reach you.

"Come with me, monsieur," he bows slightly, and then spins back around to lead you in.

With a hearty chuckle you wave to the grumbling group left behind, feeling smug as a bug in a rug. The stallion leads you toward the back, to a semi-circular booth. Sunset Shimmer was already waiting, magically sipping on some white wine, or some grossly colored water, it's hard to tell from this distance. The dimness of the lights and the darkness of the booth and table made this area seem cut off from the rest.

The stallion bows deeply and leaves the two of you. When you just stand there like an idiot, Sunset pats the open space next to her, "sit, you dunce."

"What's your game, Sunset?" you demand (quiet but forcefully), eyes squinting.

"I've already ordered for you," she replies listlessly, ignoring your question.

Reluctantly, you sit next her, feeling her warm thigh press against yours briefly before you readjust yourself a pinch further away, "what did you get us?"

"Why, a five course salad, naturally."

Your teeth grind themselves to dust, "so, how did your bout go?"

She brushes her hair to the side, revealing a strange highlight in it. With a sprinkle of magic, she takes off some illusions from her face, and body, showing one half of a pair of Irish sunglasses. Lacerations, other bruises, not pretty. She quickly restores the glamour. 

"You won though?'

"Was there ever any doubt?" she replied. It would take two sentences to describe her smugness with this statement. If I hadn't done it that way instead. Wait a second. . .

"I guess not. I beat you though, so it's possible," a malicious grin plastered itself on your face.

She took a deep sip of her drink, and you did as well, "don't get so uppity. We will have a best of three, in which I will beat you twice in a row."

"Is that why you're here? To beat me up and prove you're a strong capable mare who don't need no man?"

She huffs, "sort of. More exactly I'm here to," she looks around, "stop the villains and their plans."

You turned your head, suddenly assuming a guarded stance, "I'm here to simply win a place in the best villain group since NWA."

"I don't know who or what that is."

"All you gotta know is they got an appetite for destruction."

"Regardless," she puts her hooves up, "we don't know each other well, but I think we have enough mutual respect to be honest with each other. I know you knocked Celestia down enough pegs to put her unconscious, and the Mega Forces came in and captured her. And I know you arrive here with Iron Will as your partner."

You peered around nervously, before leaning in close to her, "how do you know about that?" you ask, with a hushed harshness. 

"I have my sources. Besides, I was in when Chrysalis and her Changelings steamrolled Canterlot, then Sombra and the others followed, all bringing their own goons. It wasn't as bad as you might expect, but the weird part was that Twilight Sparkle and her other friends haven't showed up with the Elements of Harmony yet."

"What is so weird about that?"

"Those Elements are the big problem solvers. There has got to be a reason they haven't popped them off and blasted the villains back off into space again."

"Not sure what to tell you."

She gives you a disbelieving look, "weren't the two of you a pair for quite some while," she clops her hooves together and rubs them a bit. Damn sensual hoof movements.

"Meh," you grunt dismissively, waving her off.

The waiters bring over the first round of salad. It looks like salad, tastes like it to. What you want me to describe it? What is this, a fucking story written for enjoyment or an episode of Diners, Drive-Ins and Dives?

"Wow, this salad is real mack daddy patty," you say, stuffing lettuce in your mouth. Sunset only gives you a disapproving glance.

"There was a reason for me bringing you here," Sunset finally says after a pause, pushing her plate away.

"Oh, I thought it was because we had such good chemistry."

"You failed chemistry twice, so I'm not inclined to believe your opinions about it."

HOW DID SHE KNOW?

"I don't think you or Iron Will quite know what you're getting into here."

"Pfft, as if you do?"

"Better than you two dunces, yes."

"Fine then, Miss Know-it-all, enlighten me about the situation."

"The Mega Forces are trash."

"But—"

She presses a hoof to your lips. Suddenly it strikes you that this is essential the same as if you were to take off your shoe and press your foot against her face.

"No interrupting. Each member is strong, and together they are formidable. However, they are also all incredibly stupid and not at all that evil. I have reason to believe they are being backed and directed by someone far stronger."

"Who?" 

"I have some ideas, but not enough solid evidence," she lets out a sigh, "takes a lot more than those four idiots to topple Canterlot. They had some background help, for sure. Some of which you provided."

"Me!? Hey listen, all I did was what I'm good at."

"Swinging your fists like a drooling monkey, yes, I know. You knocked out 3 alicorns."

"And you think you can beat me in a rematch, meh," you cross your arms.

"Their mistake was underestimating you, moreover, underestimating the power of that suit," she brushes your arm, "but it's worthless now isn't it?"

"Ye, pretty much."

"Looks nice on you," you turns her head away almost immediately, "not as if I care for suits." 

"So what is your goal here, then, if not to take your place with the MF?"

She looks back at you intensely, eyes surrounded by rings of confidence, beaming, "to test my skills as a fighter, and redeem myself by helping retake Canterlot."

You furrowed your brow and tapped your fork on the table, "so, what are you saying?"

"I want you, and Iron Will, to help me in this goal. We can do some good here, covertly."

"F-friends? Allies? You want to be pals?"

"Perhaps not in some many words," she rolls her hoof, "but yes. We worked together in the past, briefly. We can do it again," her face was still, but underneath that facade you could see excitement and hope, she wanted to fight with you again!

You stick your your hand for a shake, "cooperation, yes, I can agree to that."

Cutely, she slides her hoof into the cup your your hand and the two of you engage in a rigorous shaking of appendages. 





"To our newfound partnership!" you declare, clanking your glass against her's and polishing off another drink of champagne. 

"Long may it last," she adds, looking down at her now empty cup.

The balcony on the outdoor set of stairs leading to the various hotel floors was nice. Smooth stone rails, the landing is tiled and fresh, feeling without bump or dip under your shoes. The night air is cool, compared to the day's earlier warmth, and a subtle breeze tickles the trees and your hair.

"So, what did you do after I beat the shit out of Luna?"

"Excuse me, *we* beat the shit out of her."

You give her the Costanza glare, but drop the subject.

"I continued on my study to become a more powerful magician," she says proudly, puffing her chest out, "I researched great monstrous beasts to better understand their power, artifacts and enchanted items of antiquity that could bestow power, and even reached out to my old comrades to work with them."

"Sounds amazing, anything good come out of it?"

She shakes her head bluntly, "nothing but a single lead being pursued by my former friend and former underling—Trixie Lulamoon. We had a falling out over it though. Do you remember her?"

"My fists do."

"Close enough."

"She was chasing after a powerful amulet last I spoke to her, legend says it grants the abilities of an alicorn to whoever wields it."

"Wow, because they're so impressive."

She shakes her hoof and tsks at you, "those with power often forget how to use it to its full potential."

"That doesn't make a lick of sense."

Sunset nods before pacing up the stairs to the fourth floor, opening the door leading to the halls of the hotel's interior, "I would not expect someone with as few brain cells as you to understand."

You follow behind her and enter, speaking quietly as you pass, "and yet you I've beaten you once and you desperately need my help."

"Not desperately!" she barks after you.

The pair of you walk along the soft red carpet of the upper hall, just next to you a dark wooden railing prevents jumpers from ending it all, but also provides you an amazing view of the other floors. And an amazing view of the large lava monster looking up at you from across the way, on the second floor's walkway. Two yellowy, burning eyes gazed right into yours, scorching a hole in your soul. With one hand he crushed a bellhop to the wall, screams of pain coming from the poor fella, and with the other he pointed right at you. You snort like Iron Will does, and follow quickly after your date, wondering how it would go down if you had to fight that thing. . . 

"Lavan has his eyes on you, huh?" Sunset says, throwing her head to look back at you.

"Yeah, I think its my shapely ass he wants," you mumble.

She smirks, "like you want mine," she waggles it at you.

"M-meh," you falter, fumbling with a large hotel key, trying to occupy your eyes, as you finally approach the door.





"What are your plans, when you leave this place?" Sunset asks.

"Well I owe Iron Will a year or something as his roommate, so I'm going to chill with him," you say with a grin. 

"You seem happy about that," she replies.

You look down at your cup, face slightly red in embarrassment, "yeah, it'll probably be a bit of fun. He's a good guy, I think. What about you?"

She looks aloof for a moment, but recollects herself, "I'm looking for a new residence and base of operations for my research, as I have too many enemies in Ponyville. Aside from that, I want to devote myself to being the best possible fighter I can be, even if it means enhancing my magic with potentially dangerous magical artifacts."

"How can I judge?" you say with a shrug, "I used and abused this magic suit, pretty much what you just described."




After some mini-bar drinks, snacks, and much time spent chatting, Sunset suddenly stands erect and confident in the pillowy, blanket cover circle the two of you made.

"I have deemed it too late for me to return to my hotel room!" she declares, woozily falling into your lap, little bubbles popping above her head indicating her intoxication. 

"Well where are you gonna stay?" you ask stupidly.

"Right here," she says softly, sticking her tongue out, "but only because it's late, not because I want to."

There is a pause, but she speaks up again, "why didn't you and Twilight work out?"

You lean back on the bed, suddenly sobered from your tiredness.

"Aside from getting her mentor caught by the worst people on the planet?"

"Pfft, come on, anyone reasonable could see past such a small mistake if they were really in love."

You sit and ponder, small brain trying to figure things out on its own, "to be fair I never really wanted a relationship with her. Just sort of happened after I beat Nightmare Moon."

"See, I still like you even though you bullied my mentor," her eyes go wide, "er I mean! I don't, uh, hate you! Like is a strong word."

You look down to see her blushing hard, nervous grin on to keep up appearances. What a cutie. You mean, uh, sweet. Yeah, cute is a strong word.

"Well, I think neither of us was really to 'into' more than the idea of the other. If, if that makes any sense?"

"I guess I get it," she mumbles, nestling her muzzle into your chest. 

You put a hand on her mane and awkwardly stroke it, but it quickly starts to feel natural. Her inherently extra-warm body gives you some tingles, she's like an electric blanket!


IN THE NEXT EPISODE:
Will Anonymous continue to ogle Sunset Shimmer's rear?
Will Lavan stop staring at Anonymous?
Did Anonymous and Sunset get it on?
FIND OUT NEXT TIME ON HORSE LA HORSE!

> Episode 9: Looking for Group
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	You're almost a little surprised those fluids from last night didn't wake up your suit. But no matter, you're doing just fine and dandy. Whistling your way into the kitchen you're pleased to see a row of six changeling eggs ready to be turned into other kinds of eggs and then a meal.

"Hey, Sunset, what type of eggs do you want?" you call over your shoulder, flicking on the small stove top. 

"Fertilized please," you see her pop her head out of the sheets, adjusting her hair with her forehooves. She dives her front half low over the sheets again like a stalking predator, stretching her body out. IW2CISS.

"Aye, aye captain."

"Do you think we have time for another rou—"

"I'll take mine scrambled, thanks!" Iron Will groans, stumbling out of the bathroom with nary else covering him but a sheen of water and a small towel wrapped at his waist and another wrapped around his horns.

"Hey Will," you say, voice trailing off in confusion.

"Were you here all night?" Sunset demands, suddenly erect in posture and looking very shocked and nervous.

"Well mostly," the Minotaur replies nonchalantly. 

You exchange a look of wide eyes with Sunset, but don't say much else.

"What's the game plan for today?" Iron Will asks, sitting on one of the chairs placed in the corner of the room. He flicks his eyes between the two of us, smiling like he doesn't have a care in the world.

"Our first move should be to examine each other's strengths and weaknesses so that we form a more cohesive team," Shimmer replies.
"I think we should think of a name first!" Will pipes up, standing suddenly.

"Yes," you wave your spatula at him in approval.

"The Troublesome Trio," Iron Will snappily replies.

"Meh."

Sunset clip-clops over, head dipped low. 

"Eggs are burning," she says casually, ghosting past me and opening the mini-fridge.

"Oh, damn!" you quickly peel the eggs from the pan. 

Lacking any and all cooking skills, you've managed to create little more than a heap of three sizzling eggs on a plate. You dump them on the table Iron Will is sat at and sit beside him. Sunset is forced to sit on the bedside, leaning over to get at the table.

"When did they table get here?" I asked.

"Iron Will got one from reception," Sunset explains incredulously.

Breakfast passes quickly, as there is little to eat and 3 hungry mouths. The question of why none of you thought to call room service is brought up, but quickly dismissed when you call room service and demand a bountiful breakfast be brought you at once.

"Iron Will, you first, know anything special? Any muscle magic?" Sunset asks, completely straight faced.

"Muscle magic? What is that?" you ask.

Iron Will flexes, tightening his fist into a ball, the plate on the table rising slightly, "I'm not classically trained, but I can still fuse."

"It's a natural form of magic, like Zebra's potion brewing or Earth ponies mud and farm-mancy."

"Huh," you say, pondering if you can preform some telekinesis of your own.

"In fact, the pair of you are quite similar in physiology. With some magical assistance, it could be made that you can join."

"Whoa, sick!" you say, eyeing your mentor's similarly excited expression, "I can get horns and blue fur?"

"It depends on what your fusion looks like. It's based around your inner abilities and personalities."

There is a brief pause.

"And you, Anon?" she continues.

"Well, the suit," you reply, grabbing at the labels. "And my own human vigor."

"Take that suit off and place it on the bed," she says suddenly, spinning around and hastily making the bed and flattening out the quilt.

"I'm sorry?"

"Strip!"

You turn to Iron Will, who's only response is a raised thumb. Shrugging and mehhing, you do as told, feeling more cold and more awkward with each removed piece of clothing.

"Iron Will, because you're already nearly undressed, we will do step one of my two step plan now," she states, "I will proceed to link the pair of you, allowing the muscle fusion dance and muscle transfer to occur between the pair of you."

You lean over to him, pointing your two index fingers at him, he does the same, connecting his index fingers to you. There is a painful, but somewhat pleasurable jolt of lightening, like covering your dick in tinfoil and jamming it into the wall outlet. Sunset surrounds the two of you in her sizzle magic, singeing the smaller hairs on your simian body.

"Done!" she says suddenly, her magic grip releasing the pair of you, "but be careful, next time you do that it'll be for real."

You turn to Iron Will for a fist bump but instead he's shedding a tear, "wow big guy," you say, patting his back.

"Did I hurt you? Did I cast the spell wrong?" Sunset says with a bit of panic (drawing on Twilight's shrill panicked voice for her worry).

"Nah, it's just, I ain't been able to fuse with another Minotaur in so long, and now I'm gonna be able to do it with you Anon."

I'm taking your fusion virginity?, you don't say.

"Yeah man, I feel you, it's really an honor!"

He nods and wipes away the saline fluid, he grapples you into a monster hug, squeezing you tightly, "it just makes me feel so good inside."





"And now for your suit!" she yells, horn glowing and hair bristling with the magical force of whatever spell she is conjuring, "I may not have to prowess to recreate it, but I can stoke the fires of its former power!"

There is a flash of light, and much applause from Iron Will, his big hairy hands clapping together at an immense speed and volume. At the end of it, your suit looks. . . different. Sunset grips it with her telekinesis, animating it as if someone was wearing it. It looked cleaned and freshly pressed! The slight fraying and rips from wear, tear and enemy attacks had mended themselves.

"I've reawakened the suit's ability to draw from other people's energies, but I'm not able to add any myself," she hops off the bed cutely, "however, I believe the suit will be able to sap your opponents abilities, and may have already. I sense something dormant in the suit! Perhaps your fight with the Smooze has gifted you something?"

"I 'unno," you say, shrugging.

Your lack of enthusiasm displeases her, but she goes on, "if my recent fight, my opponent's barbershop hair demon chose me as a new host, she parts her hair, revealing a stripe of lighter than usual blonde hair in her mane.

"Hair demon, huh? Like dandruff," Iron Will comments, scratching his own head, some white flakes slowly drifting to the floor.

"My research into its origins have shown to be fruitful, I'm close to being able to actually communicate with it," she says proudly, her face twisted in the grin of a mad scientist.

"Well that's that then," you say, stuffing a leg back into your pants, "a Minotaur who's good at wrestling and some muscle magic, a monkey-man with an enchanted business suit, and a unicorn melee-fighter with a yet unseen hair demon. And the three of us have to go up against four mega-villains and their mysterious leader?"

"Hmm, the umami of these eggs is amazing, Anon!" Will blurts out, ignoring you entirely. 

Sunset shakes her head at him and turns to you again, "it's not as bad as you think, three vs. five, I've seen worse odds."

"Yeah, same, I think I fought about twenty vampire ponies at once before," you say thoughtfully, casting a glance at Sunset.

"Those guys really suck!" Will blurts out, expression the spitting image of someone waiting to hear the laugh that never comes for their bad pun.

"I don't want to get too sappy," you look down at your plate, "but we're doing a good thing here."

Iron Will nods his agreement, but Sunset blows you off. Somehow you can tell she agrees, deep down in her sunny, decrepit pony heart.

"I'm an old bull, and I've got a lot to make up for," he declares, "this is the perfect opportunity to right our wrongs, all three of us!"

This catches Sunset's attention again, and she looks between you and Iron Will, "so melodramatic."





"Ooh! I know," Iron Will bumbles between the two of us and charges back into the bathroom. You finish pulling on your suit jacket just as he exits, he comes back wielding a cheap disposable camera, "we should take a picture of us together, to cement our new friendship!"
"New friendship? the two of you just met."

"Just met? Not quite," Sunset laughs, "we worked as bouncers at the same club."

It's hard to contain your disbelief. 

"It was awhile ago, but yeah, we were henchmen together briefly."

"Henchbouncers," you mumble, contemplating.

"Say cheese in about ten seconds!" he says, hitting a dial on the side and dropping it. Luckily Sunset catches it midair and holds it with her magic.

Iron Will clambers behind you and you can heard the scrunching of his muscles as he pulls the sickest thumbs up yet. Sunset hurriedly joins between the two of you, while you prepare a signature squat, and throw up a Shaka sign.

"Damn, I think I flinched when it flashed!" Sunset groans, messing up her hair with a hoof.

The camera prints the picture old Polaroid style, two handsome fellows and one damsel, looks amazing!

"Well, all we gotta worry about is the name," Will comments, flapping the thing about.

"Eh, what about Massacre à Trois?" you look between the two of them, who shrugs acceptingly.

Sunset summons up an incorporeal pen and scribbles the Massacre à Trois on the picture, sealing your fates together as a legendary trio!


IN THE NEXT EPISODE:
Who will pair off together for the next set of "Double Date" Fights?
How will our Massacre à Trois fair in their quest to topple the Mega Forces?
Were those eggs really packed with umami?
FIND OUT NEXT TIME ON HORSE LA HORSE!
> Episode 10: Pone Tag Tournament
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	The three of you leaned over a small circular table, a map of Canterlot Castle before you. Felt like planning a damned heist. Twenty minutes of scribbling on this little map like kids drawing on a restaurant menu, lots of red and green crayon and the best intentions.

"Shall we go over the plan again?" Sunset asked, that furious confidence in her eye that you once despised.

"Sure!" Will piped up, falling back into a plastic chair far too small for him. The plastic was warped and white from his weight, about to snap. Shimmer nods and begins.

"Assuming the best case scenario the three of us will make it to the finals. This is where we will be matched against a member of the Mega Forces. It doesn't matter who the fourth finalist is but our jobs are to discover the ins-and-outs of each members fighting style, if possibly we will injure them and perhaps even defeat them, but this is not needed."

"And, someone will be declared a winner," you add, "but all the finalists are pretty much shoe-ins for high level henchmen."

"This is our way into Canterlot castle!" Iron Will finishes, "from here we really take them on! We locate the Princess and free her!"

Sunset lets out a huff and sits, "its not the best plan I've ever come up with."

"I don't normally plan things," you and Iron Will both say in unison. Quickly realizing what you've done and exchanging a high five.

"We'll have to wing it, and hope the Mane 6 collect the Elements of Harmony quick enough," Sunset adds.

There is a pause, and Iron Will taps his chin, "if we're being fair, Anonymous really has the biggest chance for success."

You immediately look to Shimmer for her reaction, and she looks as sour as a lime, she scrunches up her face in a cutie way, and eventually gives in with a nod.

"Anonymous, you're likely to be the one they accept into the Mega Forces. Even if Discord doesn't like you, they'll accept you if you win."

"If I win," you clarify, none of you were certain to win at all. 

"You'll get cozy with them, figure out where Celestia is, we'll either free her or get the Mane 6 in there," Will says again, mulling it over himself.

"I feel nervous," you say.

"You know what'll help that?" he declares, standing suddenly

"Another round of training?"

"Naturally my boy."





You set Sunnie down on the bed, arms and legs feeling sore from your several sets of pony-squats.

"What now?" you ask, panting and looking to your physical Instructor Iron Will. The hotel room is a far cry from the spacious outdoors around the Iron Farm, but you've managed to keep up your work-out routine. . .mostly.

"Now we leave," he announces, "we'll skip out on the second round of cardio for today. We've got to register as a tag team for the fights!"

"Oh yeah, I almost forgot. Speaking of which, who are you pairing with, Shimmer?"

She looks up from the book she's reading, replying in an offhand tone, as if were no big deal, "I was speaking with Gilda about potentially fighting together, if you know who that is. I'm not concerned either way, I'll likely have to carry whichever fool I end up with."

"I think we both know who would carry who if we paired," you say smugly, showing off your pumped biceps."

"Ah! I get it! Because you've lifted her several times just now as an impromptu weight," Iron Will interjects, face alight.

I nod along with him, looking down at my hands, half-expecting them to be stained with the blood of a dead joke.


“Next up, we have Eye Ron We El, and Anon Ee Muss,” the crowd is a mix of cheers and boos. Iron Will works the crowd without pause though, pumping his muscles and calling for more cheering, raising a hand to his ear with much flourish. The cheers quickly outweigh the jeers. You take cue from him, scrolling up a sleeve and showing off a python of your own. Mares swoon and blush at your glances and winks. You blow a kiss to a fluttering pegasus, who promptly collapses back into the stands.

“VERSUS,” the announcer continues, “The Die Mound Dougs!”

“AWOOOOOOOO!” The gates rattle up, a wave of dust rolls out onto the arena, and the crowd goes quiet for the reveal. Then suddenly, no less than five Diamond Dogs, clad in much gems and spikes. They aren’t sportsmen, and spit and holler at you and Will, the crowd jeers and goes wild at their grizzly appearance.

“Due to the judge’s decision to count each Diamond Dog as less than 1 villain each, they’re allowed to group in a pack like this!” Will explains.

You feel kinda good knowing the crowd knows you’re a face and not a heel. Or, a face turned heel turned face again. This is becoming confusion for even you.

“Who let the dogs out, am I right?” he asks, elbowing you. You squint at him, partially to express disgust, but also because of the grains of sand being blown in your eyes. The gates lower again, and the bell is struck. The match begins!

It’s utter chaos! All five charge at you, kicking up dust like madmen, rushing the two of you down. But you’ve got a dirty trick, you reach into your pocket while everyone else is distracted, and out pops a bright neon green tennis ball. They halt immediately, which shocks the crowd and Will, now all eyes are on you!

“I call this one, NEON GREEN RACKET LAUNCHED DISTRACTION,” you explain, whipping out a racket that was strapped to your back, you serve that shit like a 5-star gourmet meal, launching it up into the air over their head. The five stooges run off in search of it, giving you and Will time to prepare. “Alright, what’s the game plan?”

“Back-to-back, it’s a classic and always works," Will suggests.

"And if things heat up too much, we can pull out that secret weapon," you wink at him.

"Heck yes, brother."

You smile widely, giving him a sick fist pump. Getting back to back with Iron Will, you two allow them to envelop you. With much superfluous action you charge forward, priming a sick uppercut. The diamond dog with a big garnet on his chest runs to meet you, your uppercut being blocked by his two paws, coming together like a catcher's mitt. The force from the blowback stumbles you backward, and he takes this time to swipe at you, clawing a button off your suit!

Anger swells in you, and you toss off your suit jacket and scroll up the sleeves on your button up. You bark at the diamond pup just as his boy comes up to your left, this one is marked with an amethyst. He thinks he’s got the upper hand but you crouch quick and swipe his feet from underneath him. The tall ass doggo goes flying right over you into his friend on your right. Beside that one you see Iron Will deliver a radical power bomb to the lapis lazuli dog. 

“Wow Will, great moves, keep it up!” you say, giving him one monster of a thumps up. He smiles back, but you don’t get to enjoy it long, Garnet is back for more buttons. He tries to give you an emergency tooth removal with a devastating right hook.

You take that shit to the bank, no selling the hell out of the punch, and retorting with one straight to his dumb face, just as planned! Your steely reaction shocked him, and his guard was down. The poor dog goes flying, and once you’re sure he’s not looking, you try to rub the pain from your now out-of-place jaw.

Thank god amethyst is looking out for you, he sees your plight and socks you a good one from the left, knocking your chin back on straight! The strength of that punch was killer, and slaps you flat on your back. The pain in your head was quite unique, jarring, like your brain just sloshed around in your skull.

“Thanks brah,” you say, looking up at the sky. That cloud kinda looks like Twilight. A tear formulates in your ducts, but it’s just the dust though. No for real, you got some seriously dirty shit in your eye.

A big blue hairy arm washes over you and picks you up, setting you straight and dusting you off roughly, “come on let’s hit it, boy!” Will says, patting your back roughly.

You’re feeling way better with some encouragement, at least your head doesn’t feel all jostled around anymore. Two pups were drooling in the dirt. Garnet and Lapis, both ass up face down, tongues lolling out.

The last three, Amethyst, Quartz and Peridot, were pacing around, looking tough. Shaking your head, you turn to Iron Will.

“You thinkin’ what I am?” you ask, not thinking much.

“Hell yeah,” he puts up his hand as if he was getting ready to arm wrestle you. You meet his hand likewise, slapping into his calloused palm with yours. With a tight handshake and a nod the two of you activate your secret weapon. 

Iron Will faces forward and stands next to you, you do likewise. He then piddles about 3 paces left, and you got 3 right, the two of you with outstretched arms. Time for the return now, quarter turn! You bend in, pointed fingers just grazing each other! 

Then, a flash! The crowd draws in enough breath to suck all the dirt out of the ring. The smoke clears, and the diamond dogs recover from their flashbang, and what remains? 

Theme of FE Anon: 
(Shin Megami Tensei OST: Boss Battle)

“Iron Anon is my name, beating pups is my game!” you growl, slapping your chest hard. You feel about nine feet off the ground, head heavy with two hard iron tipped horns like a demon straight out The Pit. Your skin, blue in hue and covered in hair, is only partially covered by your now open button shirt, hairy chest exposed to the elements.

The diamond dogs back off, mewl at your presence. You put hoof to dirt, bringing both fists down hard onto poor amythest, the slowest of his litter, his face gets buried about six inches into the ground.

“Treat me like a pushover and you’ll get the TWICE over!” you roar, batting your chest like an ape. The last two are quivering now, paws shaking and barks coming out all crackly.

You charge over, feeling animalistic and seeing red, with your horns pointed down you scooping up Quartz between your built-in bident. Swinging up, you feel him kick at your chest and paw at your head, throat stuck between your horns. You charge for the wall in the stadium, slamming him hard into the concrete.

The audience screams, and runs from the area as the force of your blow creates a huge crack in the wall! You shake your head harshly when you feel him go limp, and he collapses into a pile on the floor. You flex like an iron god, letting out a huff of hot steam from your nostrils.

Your blazing red eyes turn to the last thing in the ring, a quivering peridot dog. 

“Please,” he grovels, “I submit, abloo bloo,” he cries into his paws.

“Pathetic display!” the announcer calls, ending the match with another ding of the bell. 

Just before you unmerge and the lights go out, you look to the skybox on the other side of the ring, peering at the Mega Forces. They quickly close the shutter on you. Uh-oh, feeling woozy.

Creak, shake! About 600 pounds of muscle and metal staggers around the ring, squeaking like the tinman from Oz. You feel yourself tilting, horns going down first. Blackout time. 

“Wakey, wakey, eggs,” you hear the announcer say.

Your eyes flutter open, you’re in a tent, coolish air flutters in from the open. Standing above you, a greasy maned, slick smiled announcer stallion. Beside you, Iron Will, bandaged at the waist and arm, sitting up on his cot. Across the room, in the other cots lined up, your opponents, all of them wrapped up in casts or bandages. And some other things you don’t recognize, is that a goat?

“No bacon?”

“No, but I do have news,” the doctor said in his naturally booming voice. Iron Will did not look happy.

“Lay it on me, pal,” you say, leaning back on your bed.

“The judges have declared you the winner. HOWEVER, your use of unqualified items and your combination form were illegal in their eyes.”

“What does this mean for us? Are we disqualified?” you ask, voice going serious as all hell.

“In a way,” Will pitches in, his tone likewise grim.

You give him a conspiring glance, trying to gauge if he was also thinking how this would affect your plans.

“The judges voted 1 1/1000 to 2, in favor of keeping you.”

“Wait a second, whose vote was only worth 1/1000?”

“Why Queen Chrysalis of course, she makes all her decisions with the backing of her 999 Changelings, however to save time they weren’t polled for this vote.”

“Sick, we’re in this still,” you say, beaming, hand raised for an almighty high five. You’re left hangin’.

“Not quite, see, there was so much bickering that the Mega Forces instead came to the compromise of letting one of you loose. So someone is still disqualified. Iron Will has elected to call it quits to allow you to stay.”

“Will, you sure?”

He nods solemnly, "I'm a big boy, you go on ahead. I'll see you later." 

You hold your pounding head and swing your legs out of the bed, pushing past the announcer and over to your boy. 

“You gonna be okay here? I need to see someone at the hotel.”

Will nods and the announcer begins pacing out. You’re not happy about it, but you need time to think, and a sweaty medical tent is not the place to get your brain fluids working. Sunset might have some ideas to brainstorm with you. 





"Anonymous! Over here," Sunset calls, waving you over poolside. Surprisingly, once again the area is devoid of contestants or anyone really (barring Sunset of course).

"Hey, I was just looking for you," you reply, walking over to her.

"Great. I need you as my partner, will you be willing to do an extra match with me?"

"What happened to Gilda or whoever?"

She looks down at the floor sullenly, "avian flu."

You express your empathy with a contorted face, "I came to tell you that our plan is fucked."

Shimmer gets simmered, back peddling a step, "did they sniff us out already?"

"No, but Iron Will is out of commission and disqualified."

She snorts, thinks about the situation for a moment, and recollects herself, "we'll be alright, the pair of us. Iron Will can still support us when we make the final move."

You look around to make sure no one is around still, and motion that the two of you should walk back to the hotel, "he's recovering right now. He should be alright but—"

"But you don't think he will be able to stand up to the Mega Forces?"

You furrow your brow, "I don't know. I saw him go toe-to-toe with Discord before, but I'm worrying about him for some reason."

"Well, friends do feel empathy and concern for each other, don't they?" she asks, to which you promptly nod.

"I can feel the icy recesses of my heart warming with our three-way bonding."


IN THE NEXT EPISODE:
Will Anonymous be able to handle another twosome?
Will Sunset be able to carry her weight or will throw?
Can Iron Will recover from his injuries?
FIND OUT NEXT TIME ON, HORSE LA HORSE SEASON 2