I awoke in a strange land with nothing to my name and nothing of home. After watching a stunt team do a performance, I found a new challenge. One that would push me beyond my limits.
I would be one of them.
I would be a Wonderbolt.
No matter what it took.
(First person, from my ponysona's perspective. Partially self-insert.)
The noise from the stadium was deafening. From my vantage point I could see and hear everything down below with perfect clarity. The tens of thousands of fans cheering on their idols, soaking up the electrifying atmosphere and going away with memories of a lifetime.
That is, if you could afford the monstrously expensive tickets.
I decided to get back on the ground before I was seen and given a fine for illegally watching them, 250 bits in case you're wondering. I've witnessed them been given out. Tickets start at around 60 bits for a place in the terraces all the way up to 2000 bits for the VIP treatment which included a meet and greet with the Wonderbolts themselves, dinner afterwards and a photo shoot.
I couldn't even afford to pay for one meal in a week, never mind a king's ransom.
Landing back on the ground, in a back alley close to the stadium, I sat myself down in my makeshift shelter, making myself as comfy as possible. I reached into my bag and took out some iced doughnuts I found thrown out earlier. Perfectly fine. The individual in question didn't want them because they were laid out 'incorrectly'.
Well, I wasn't going to let them go to waste.
With a flask of water, of which I acquired from the public water fountains, I laid back to have my only 'meal' of the day.
After about half an hour, the calmness was disturbed when I heard hoof steps rapidly approaching.
"We should be safe this way," I heard a raspy voice say.
"You sure? It doesn't look safe?" I heard a stallion reply.
"Yeah, sure."
Getting onto my hooves to see who was approaching, getting ready to flee if needs be, I stood my ground and waited as the hoofsteps got closer and came around the corner.
Bloody hell. I should have recognised THAT voice.
Fortunately, or unfortunately depending on your point of view, they turned in my direction, stopping almost as soon as they saw me.
"Oh shit," Soarin said, "A bum. We don't have any money!"
"I don't want your money."
"I said we don't.....oh," he replied, awkwardly rubbing the back of his head.
"Wait," came a raspy voice.
Shit.
"I know you."
"I doubt it."
"You know this bum, Rainbow?" asked Spitfire.
Why are people so disrespectful to the homeless? They're still people.
"Yeah. He came to Ponyville ages ago claiming to be a human from another world."
"Oh my Celestia!" Misty Fly jubilantly said, "He even admits it!"
"Are you loco in the coco?" asked Spitfire, looking at me mockingly, "Did you escape your padded room?"
"How did he get out of a straitjacket?" asked Fleetfoot, "Should we call the cops?"
"He can't even fly," Rainbow added, "When he was in Ponyville he tried to fly and flew straight into my friends boutique and ruined her latest creation."
"What did she do?"
"She used him as ponyquin for a new dress and tiara."
The Wonderbolts laughed their flanks off, clearly amused at my humiliation. While true, I wasn't given a chance to speak up in my defence. It also didn't help that their friend just happens to be a Princess who used her magic to force the punishment onto me.
When I heard she had been to a world of humans I thought she meant mine. But apparently it's a different human world altogether. Twilight said if I was human she would have detected magical residue from the mirror, but when she scanned me she said I was without doubt 100% Equestrian.
No trace whatsoever of my transformation.
It didn't help I had nothing with me to support my claim. Even though I explained the technology humans had, she pointed out that she wrote a journal about her experiences and that I only got my information from that.
Apparently a mind meld is also out of the question as my mind wouldn't cope with the connection.
Regardless, her friends publicly humiliated me in front of the entire town.
I had to leave.
I did go to the Princesses, but apparently Twilight, to whom I explained that there would be no records of me in their systems, had wrote to them about me and I was told to leave the castle immediately or be thrown into the dungeons for wasting the Crown's time. Apparently I was in their systems. My pony name, my date of birth, my place of birth (apparently I was born in Vanhoover). Except my schooling. I was listed as home-schooled as being part of a travelling side show who also suffered from amnesia, ergo I wouldn't 'remember' my childhood and my human memories were coming from my imagination to stop my mind from falling to pieces.
I pleaded with them, to check more thoroughly, but they just wouldn't have it. So much for being an all-loving motherly figure who's always willing to help.
"You think he's OK?"
"He looks like he's zoned out on us."
"Hey! Buddy!" Spitfire yelled, "You still with us?!"
"Yeah," I replied lazily, still looking at the ground.
"You don't sound so sure."
"Come on Cap," Soarin said, "Leave this blank flank loser. We're hungry."
"Yeah yeah, just let me get something."
The others flew away, leaving Spitfire alone with me. She reached into her saddlebag and threw something at my hooves.
A bit bag.
"I said I don't want your money."
"But you need it," she replied, looking somewhat ashamed, like she knew the way they acted was wrong, "By the way, what's your name?"
"Why should I tell you? I'm a delusional, psychotic, blank flank homeless bum, remember?"
"Honestly? I can't think of a reason why you should."
A good answer.
"Hawker Hurricane."
She smiled, "Cool name. See you around Hawker."
Before I could respond again she flew away, leaving me alone in the alley. Looking down at the bit bag, I opened it and my eyes almost boggled out.
There's enough bits in here to feed me for a month!
I waited in line at Hay King, fully aware of the disgusted looks I was getting from other ponies. Most commenting on my unkempt appearance, some on my body odour, some on my lack of a cutie mark. I ignored them. I'm not interested in whatever small minded bullshit views they have. Soon enough it was my turn to be served and I approached the counter, the mare on duty visibly scrunching her face in disgust.
"Good evening...sir," she said, forcing the last word out, "What can I get for you tonight?"
"XL Hay burger, large fries and a lemonade, please."
"That will be 10 bits, can you afford that?"
"Yes. Whatever made you think I can't?"
The mare nervously looked around, "Oh..well...nothing..."
She took my money and sent the order to begin prepping my burger. As I was waiting, I hear hoof steps behind me.
Not waiting in the queue behind me, but behind me behind me.
I decided to pretend I hadn't noticed them.
"Hey!"
I still ignored them.
"Hey!"
Still ignoring them,
"HEY!"
Can't they taken a hint?
"BLANK FLANK!"
Still ignoring them.
Until I felt myself being hit from behind and sent head first into the counter.
"What the fuck's your problem?" I snarled, turning around to them, nursing my sore head.
Three delinquents with more wings than brain cells, encircled me.
"Don't talk to us like that, blank flank," their 'leader' said, jabbing me with a hoof.
"Oooh, blank flank, I'm so offended."
"You should be," he replied, clearly not understanding sarcasm.
"I think we should teach this blank flank a lesson," one of his equally stupid friends suggested, "Maybe he'll get his cutie mark in being beaten up."
Before I could react, the three pounced.
I don't know how long we were scuffling, but the sound of a loud whistle caught our attention.
"What's going on here?"
Shit. Pony cops.
"This blank flank bum attacked us!" the leader of the idiots said.
Before I could even get a word in, the police mare spoke.
"Why are you causing issues?"
"I didn't start-"
"Your burger's ready," the Hay Burger mare said, "Grab it and get out!"
I stared at her in disbelief. How could she-
"Didn't you hear?!" the police mare said, "Grab your burger and get out before I toss your blank flank flank into the slammer!"
Wow. So ponies can be prejudiced too. Lovely.
I quickly grabbed my burger and began to walk out. The Hay Burger mare called out before I closed he door.
"Don't bother coming back, you're banned."
I said nothing and just left. No doubt those idiots just had their day made by some stupid cop.
I found an empty bench at the waterfront soon afterwards and ate my meal.
Fairly good too, considering.
After finishing it, I checked the bit bag Spitfire threw at me.
Still quite a bit. I suppose I could find a budget hotel to stay at. Even if it's just one night, at least I could get a wash and sleep in a warm bed.
I decided to go ahead with it and soon enough, found a budget hotel in the downtown area and rented myself a room for the night. Twenty bits which included breakfast. Thankfully, the staff were more professional and friendly than at Hay Burger. Apparently they get quite a few down-on-their-luck ponies stop for the night, which was why they gave me a cheap rate.
They even have their own spa where they would cut manes and tails at no extra charge, amongst other spa things.
According to the receptionist, the hotel chain owner was once homeless himself, so he knows all too well how it feels.
Anyway, I had put what little I had in my hotel room and decided straight away to have a bath.
One hour later, bath over, I was now walking the streets of Vanhoover, feeling a lot cleaner than before. Even though I was still getting stairs from ponies about my lack of cutie mark. Still, they never said anything to me.
As I walked the streets, browsing the windows as I passed, I came upon store with a familiar looking logo.
An official Wonderbolt store that was packed to the rafters.
Understandable given they were performing just hours ago.
I went into the store and began to browse. Keychains, mugs, glasses, flasks, coasters, notebooks, plushies all filled the shelves. Noting the prices, I realised I had enough to grab a few things, or at least some pens and a notebook. Grabbing a basket, I put on some pens and a notebook with the Wonderbolt logo on the front in the basket, along with a thermal flask, useful for having a spare hot drink for a few hours.
Browsing more, I couldn't help but hear a filly make a comment.
"Mummy, that stallion doesn't have a cutie mark."
I could feel the eyes of many ponies staring at me and my flank.
"Sugar Rush, it's rude to point."
"But he doesn't."
"That doesn't mean he's any less of a pony, sweetie."
Good to know there's parents with common sense and decency here.
Nothing more was said, but I could still feel ponies staring at me as I continued to browse. As I was looking at some fleeces and throw blankets, the stallion I was stood next to glanced a few looks back at my flank.
Until he realised I caught him doing it and he scurried away, muttering apologies.
I ignored it, quite used to it by now, and looked the fleeces. They were the same blue with golden yellow lightning bolt down the front centre, with a hoodie and space for the ears and obviously, holes for wings. Realising it would help keep me warm on a night, I grabbed on and a matching throw blanket, as well as a pair of goggles and a sleeping bag. They may have been pricey given they were Wonderbolt branded memorabilia, but I could afford them and they'd come in useful when I'm back sleeping on the streets.
I reached the till and put my items on the counter.
"That's quite a bit you have there," the cashier said, taking my items and basket, "You must be a big fan."
"Well-"
Not exactly.
"What pegasus isn't?"
"True, true," she replied, scanning the items through.
After a few seconds of scanning and putting everything in to a bag, she gave me the bad news.
"That will be 160 bits please, would you like wear your fleece now?"
I hoofed over the bits, "Sure would."
I was hoofed the fleece, minus the tags, and put it on.
It felt damn snuggly, comfy and warm.
"Here's your change sir."
"Thank you," I replied, tasking the change and the bag.
"Have a nice evening sir."
"Thank you, I will."
I left the store, feeling better than I had in quite a while.
Did I say the fleece felt awesome and warm?
And snuggly?
I decided to head to a local pub for a drink, not having had a any booze for far too long. Knowing where a good watering hole was located, I took to the air and flew at a steady pace, keeping a firm hold of my shopping. Gazing down at the city below, I could see ponies going about their business, the streets illuminated and a fresh breeze gently blowing in my face.
Soon enough, I landed in front of the pub in the downtown district. The Maple Leaf, hugely popular and lively music nights.
Which just happened to be tonight.
I walked in and as expected, was packed.
Even more so due to the presence of a certain stunt team.
I wonder how Spitfire will react when...if she sees what I've bought.
I walked in and sat myself down on one of the bar stools where I was quickly served by the barman.
"What'll you have tonight?"
"Pint of smooth ale please."
"Sure thing, that'll be four bits please."
I hoofed over four bits and was soon given my drink. Hearing a sudden increase in the noise, I turn towards the direction it's coming from and see where the Wonderbolts have made themselves at home.
The brilliant thing about pony hearing? It's far superior to human hearing and it allowed me to pick up on what one particular member was saying about me.
I'll give you three guesses who and the second two don't count.
"He's an idiot!"
Ponies laughed.
"He doesn't know his flank from his wings."
Cue more laughter.
"He even went to the princesses for help but they told him to buck off. He's still the butt of jokes in Ponyville."
How mature. Make jokes about me behind my back.
Do I go over and introduce myself?
Or just try and stay out of the way?
"No wonder he's a blank flank," one of the patrons yelled, prompting more laughter from other drinkers.
"Yeah, could you imagine him trying to join the Wonderbolts?" Rainbow continued, "He can't even fly ten hooves without crashing."
I've improved drastically in the previous few months. It's astonishing what one can achieve when they don't have someone constantly berating them for every little mistake.
"The closest he'll ever get to joining the Wonderbolts is attending a show. But even that might be pushing it."
I think I'll hold back actually. Not let on I've heard them, or her rather, talk about me.
I saw some ponies walk up on stage, one of whom I recognised from Ponyville.
Lyra.
She was the worst when it came to insults. Worse than Twilight and Rainbow put together several times over. She, in front of the whole of Ponyville, denounced my claims as delusional and threatened to have me sectioned under the Mental Health Act. As a qualified psychiatrist (who held a PhD), she had the authority to do that under Equestrian law.
I hated her.
I still do.
"Hey ho everypony!" she said, talking in to the mike, "How is everypony tonight? You having a good time?"
The crowd cheered and Lyra told those who didn't know, and those who already did, that she and her band were amateur singers who enjoyed touring pubs and singing to the patrons, and then afterwards, have volunteers have a go themselves.
She and her band played a few popular songs by Equestrian artists. They were reasonably good, both the songs and Lyra's singing ability, but they weren't Queen. Or Metaliica. Or Kenny Rodgers.
But still good.
Speaking of Kenny Rodgers...
After about ninety minutes of songs, and more drinks, it was time for the patrons to have their turn.
A few ponies went.
They were all shit.
As was the direction my night was about to go.
"i don't believe it."
There was an eerie silence.
"It's him."
I could feel the eyes of many ponies looking at me.
"Hawker Hurricane."
I turned around to face Lyra, noting the shit eating smirk on her face. I glanced over to where the Wonderbolts were sitting and just caught a glimpse of Rainbow looking like Christmas had come early.
"What brings you here, Mr Human?"
The same patrons from before burst into laughter again, as did the Wonderbolts, save for Spitfire who was a little more restrained.
"I just thought I'd stop in for a drink. Music nights in pubs are popular where I'm from."
"You mean your world?" she asked mockingly, "A world inhabited by hairless apes?"
The other patrons also began to laugh.
Not at Lyra's joke.
But at me.
I was almost tempted to leave, but if I did they would have never let me forget.
"I thought I'd volunteer to sing a song. But I don't think your musicians know the score."
"You?" she snorted, "Fine. If you want to humiliate yourself further, then by all means. Come on up. And don't worry about them not knowing what to play, they just do."
I walked up to the stage, taking my things with me and placing them next to the mike. I glanced over to the Wonderbolts, particularly Spitfire, who very briefly looked surprised at me. I'm guessing it was what I was wearing and the blue Wonderbolt branded bag. But hey, I bought practical things that would be useful to me. That's fair.
"The song I'm going to sing-"
"From your world."
I scowled very briefly at Lyra, "Is called The Gambler."
"So you're a gambler as well as delusional. I think we may need to have sessions."
"Give it a rest, Heartstrings."
"Come on now, Hawky" she replied, giving me a mocking jab with her elbow, "I'm only messing with you."
Sure you are.
Lyra nodded her head to her musicians and they started playing. And would you believe it.
As soon as I finished, the patrons, the very same ones who joined in mocking me before, were now cheering me. I glanced over the crowd when I heard Lyra approach from the side.
"Not bad, Mr Human."
I grabbed my things and began to head back to my seat when someone in the crowd called out.
"Do you have another song?"
The follow up cheering implied the crowd wanted one. I looked back to Lyra and the band who motioned me back up. I supposed I could. It's better than being mocked and ridiculed. And playing songs these ponies have never heard of might help convince them I'm telling the truth.
Unless that other human world has the same songs.
Then I'm screwed.
I walked back up on stage and set my things down again.
Once more, as I finished the crowd cheered. Except Rainbow. Anyone could tell from a country road mile away that her clapping was purely for show.
I grabbed my gear and got off of the stage and headed back to my seat, hearing Lyra in the background say they were having a short bathroom break. I ordered another pint and a pack of dry roasted peanuts when I heard hoofsteps from behind.
"Hey there."
"Hey Spitfire."
She took a seat next to me, "You're a good singer."
"Thanks," I replied, taking a sip of ale.
"I see you bought yourself a few things."
"Yeah. The fleece, a blanket, sleeping bag...where I'm living at the moment doesn't exactly have heating installed."
"I told you you'd need it."
"Yeah, you did."
"You sound angry."
"Pissed off. About many things."
"Want to talk about it?"
I shook my head, "There's no point when no one believes you."
"Well...you gotta to admit that a story as far-fetched as yours is hard to believe. Especially when you have nothing to prove it."
"Those songs were from my world."
"Maybe, but you can't prove it. It's more believable to say you wrote them."
"The lack of a magic arse tattoo on my flank implies music isn't my speciality."
Spitfire burst into laughter, eliciting a few stares.
"Magic arse tattoo? That's brilliant! I'm using that!"
"Be my guest."
"I will. Well, I better get back to my team, see you around Hawker."
Spitfire left and rejoined her team, leaving me alone with my drink.
The music night went on close to midnight before we all had to leave. The Wonderbolts left first, quickly followed by the rest of us. I headed back to my hotel room and sank into my bed, almost immediately falling asleep.
I awoke around eight o'clock and headed down to the hotel restaurant for breakfast, wearing my new fleece again, and made a beeline for the tea making facilities. Making myself a cup of tea and having a large bowel of Equestria's version of Shredded Wheat, I read one of the newspapers that had been left on my table. The Equestrian Times. It was your typical broadsheet newspaper. The sort of paper more educated people would read.
I was reading the paper and minding my own business when I felt myself violently shoved forward, going nose first into my cereal.
I recognised the laughing immediately.
"Enjoying your breakfast? Blank flank?!"
I noticed other guests beginning to look over.
"Answer me, blank flank," the same idiot said, shoving me in the back again.
They did it again a few more times until I felt something trickle down my head and onto my new fleece. I turned around and saw they had squeezed a bottle of maple syrup.
Urge to kill rising.
"What's the matter?" the leader mocked, "Is the blank flank gonna cry?"
Before I could plant my hoof hard in the idiot's face, a loud voice caught our attention.
"Is there a problem here?!"
The voice, unbelievably recognisable, came from behind the idiot. Said idiot turned around and began cowering in fear at the sight of Spitfire.
"N-n-n-n-no."
"Oh? Then why did I see you repeatedly assault this stallion and then damage his property?"
"Errrrr..."
A rather eloquent reply for an idiot.
Spitfire grabbed the idiot by the scruff of the neck and pulled him close to her, "You and your idiot friends have five seconds to get lost before I get angry."
The idiots quickly disappeared, leaving me in my ruined fleece with a sprinkling of humiliation.
"You OK there, Hawker?"
"I'm fine."
"Liar."
"What is all the commotion?"
Turning around, we saw the hotel manager approach. Spitfire kindly explained the situation, saving me the trouble. The manager apologised profusely and as a goodwill gesture, gave me my stay for free.
I still have a ruined fleece though.
Spitfire escorted me back to my room, in case those idiots return, and followed me in.
"Well," I said, "Here was my room for the night."
"Looks nice. We were staying on a higher floor, larger room."
"Staying in budget hotels?"
"Keeps the costs down. Besides, it has a good pub nearby."
I laughed, "Yeah, last night was...well it ended better than it started."
"Yeah," Spitfire replied, her face suddenly souring, "I'm sorry for what was said last night. In the alleyway."
"Don't be. I've heard it all before."
"That doesn't excuse what we said. What I said."
"Is that why you gave me those bits?"
"Partly."
"Partly?"
"You looked like you needed a break. So I gave you one."
"Thanks," I sighed, "I guess. Where do I go from here though? Without a magic arse tattoo no one will hire me and with no formal Equestrian qualifications it's damn near impossible even if I do get a magic tattoo."
Spitfire observed me for several seconds. Her expression damn near impossible to read.
"I tell you what," she said, picking up my ruined fleece, "You go and get your mane and tail sorted out at the hotel's spa, and I'll be waiting for you here."
"Waiting? What for?"
"You'll have to find out. Now, get your flank to that spa, I'll look after your things."
I trotted into the hotel spa and could already feel my masculinity drain by the second as I took in the overly feminine surroundings. Sweet aromatic smells filled my nose and everything was clean. Too clean. And those stallions in the corner are looking at me funny.
Or maybe it's the lack of a magic arse tattoo.
Either way I'm not interested.
I walked over to the reception desk where a lone mare was working.
"Good morning sir," she asked with a bright smile, "How may we help you today?"
"Just my mane and tail need seeing to," I replied, "Some young punks thought it would be funny to pour syrup over them."
"Oh no!" the mare winced, "That's awful!"
"Yeah. Anyway, can you do something to tidy them up?"
"Of course. We should have a free slot in about twenty minutes."
*MEANWHILE*
"Are you serious?" Soarin asked, "That bum?"
"He's not a bum, Soarin," Spitfire replied, "He's just a guy down on his luck."
"But he's a loon!"
"Aren't we all?"
"This is serious, Captain!" Soarin snapped, "What will the Board of Directors say when they hear of this?"
"So long as the image of the Wonderbolts isn't brought into disrepute, then they won't care."
"How does giving a homeless crackpot a job with us not put our image image into disrepute?"
"Do you actually believe what that whackjob says?" Rainbow asked, giving her opinion on the matter, "Even the Princesses have said he's talking bull."
"I believe that he believes he's right."
"Captain-"
"Look!" Spitfire snapped, "I know he's a bit of a crackpot, but he's down on his luck. All he needs is for somepony to give him a break."
The other Wonderbolts looks around at one another, sharing unenthusiastic looks and scrunching their noses, clearly not impressed with the Captain's decision.
"And if he bucks up?" asked Fleetfoot, "Toss his plot out back onto the streets?"
"Only if it was serious enough, otherwise we'd accept he makes mistakes like any pony and can learn from them."
"Fine," Soarin replied, more as deferring to his superior's authority rather than because he wants to help, "So what will he be doing?"
"He'd be our personal assistant, which would give him privileged access not normally available to other workers."
"You really want a creepy super fan waltzing in to your office?" asked Fleetfoot.
"Super fan?" Spitfire queried, "I don't think he even likes the Wonderbolts."
"I mean a super fan of you."
"What makes you say he is?"
"Did you see his mane and tail? They're identical to yours. Sounds like a crazy super fan to me."
"I'm sure it's just a coincidence."
Some time later, I walked out of the spar feeling completely refreshed and rejuvenated. I walked through the foyer to the reception desk to pay my bill, only to see Spitfire and the Wonderbolts there, the latter bunch looking happy.
Suspiciously too happy.
"Hey there," Spitfire said, "You enjoy yourself?"
"I feel better," I replied, not taking my eyes off of the others, something Spitfire picked up on.
"You've met some of the gang already," she continued, "And don't worry about the bill. I've already paid it."
"Thanks. But what are these lot doing here? They look too happy for my liking."
Spitfire laughed, "They would be. But we're here to offer you a job."
"A job?" I repeated, not expecting it.
"To be our personal lackey," Fleetfoot replied, clearly relishing the prospect, "You run around doing errands for us."
"Bollocks to that," I replied.
"What?!" Skittles snapped, "Care to repeat that, buster?"
"Calm down, Crash," Spitfire replied.
"Crash?" I repeated, "And you mock me for dodgy flying?"
"You'll be getting a hoof in your face if you don't cool it, buster!"
"Cool it, Dash!" Spitfire replied, frowning.
Skittles backed off and Spitfire looked back to me and placed a hoof on my shoulder, "Look, you don't have to accept, but if you do, come to Wonderbolt HQ."
"I'll consider it."
"That's all I ask," she replied, "See you around, Hawker."
The gang left, Skittles giving me the stink-eye as she did so, leaving me at the reception desk, when I realised that the receptionist was looking at me in shock.
"What?"
"You don't want to join the Wonderbolts?"
"Not as their personal lackey. Certainly not when they would take advantage of it to the extreme."
"Why would they do that?"
"Let's just say I've had a run in with them previously."
"Oh," she replied, "Well I must say I like your mane. You must be a huge fan of Spitfire."
"Why would I be?" I queried, genuinely confused.
"Your mane and tail are exactly the same as hers."
Are they? I honestly hadn't noticed. Though my mane and tail where a mess before they were tidied up and I hadn't exactly looked in a mirror before hand, so maybe they were. No doubt I will get stick for this though.
"Oh, well it's just a coincidence. I haven't had it styled like that. It's just how they are. Honest."
The mare smiled and 'hm-hmm'd' as if to say 'Yeah, sure'.
Anyway, I said goodbye and left, making my way back to my room to grab my things before checking out. All on the house courtesy of the owner. I entered my room and all of my things were organised neatly in the corner of the room, along with a new fleece with an envelope on top. Trotting over I picked up the envelope, opened it and took out the contents. A note and something else inside a card.
Hey Hawker,
While you were busy having yourself look pretty,
I rolled my eyes. Damn Spitfire.
I got you a new fleece. Also, the job offer I will have made to you is serious. Don't take any notice of what the others will say, you won't be waiting on us 24/7 for every little thing. We have a show coming up in a few days in Las Pegasus. In the Wonderbolts card are a ticket for a VIP Pass and train ticket. If you want to go, go. If not, then I we hope to see you around some time. Also, as the show isn't for another four days I've already paid for you to have your room until then, and added a few extra bits for food.
Yours,
Spitfire
P.S. I wrote this before meeting you at the spa, hence the future tense of this letter.
P.P.S. I love your mane and tail.
"It's just a coincidence!"
Four uneventful days passed and I had decided to go to the show. Why not? It wasn't costing me anything. The train ticket was for an overnight service to Las Pegasus with my own cabin with tea and breakfast included with an on board bar. Though I had to pay extra for booze. I was waiting at Vanhoover Waterfront train station for my train which was due to leave at 20.32. It was currently 19.45 so it gave me plenty of time to have a drink or two before departing.
Which would be made all the more pleasant if ponies weren't constantly staring at my flanks. I know I'm good looking, but still...
I turned around the face them.
"Don't you perverts have any else to do other than stare at my flanks?"
Most turned away, looking embarrassed at being caught. Others just didn't get the message.
"Why are you a blank flank?" asked an idiot stallion at the table next to me.
"Because I am."
"Why don't you have a cutie mark?"
Isn't that essentially the same question?
"I don't need one."
"Why?"
"I know what I'm good at."
"But if you were good at it, you would have a cutie mark showing it."
"Ponies don't get magic arse tattoo's where I come form."
"Uhhh, they're called cutie marks, not...not that naughty word you used."
"Naughty word?" I asked, quite perplexed. I'm sure I didn't swear. And was I talking to a child or an adult?
The stallion nodded.
I racked my brain for a few moments and realised I was indeed dealing with a child. Albeit a large, old one, "You mean arse?"
The stallion, and a few other ponies, winced.
"For fucks sake," I replied, watching them wince even more uncomfortably in delight, "Are you soft skinned shite-stains so delicate you can't tolerate a word like arse? Fuck me."
"Please don't say naughty words," the stallion whimpered, "It's hurting my ears."
"I don't give a fuck."
"Sir, please-"
"Is there a problem here?"
For fuck's sake.
I barely had time to respond when I saw a familiar face in front of me.
"Why are you causing trouble again?"
"I wasn't. These perverts around me were ogling my plot. I told them to cut it out."
"I heard you swearing."
"So? It's not illegal."
"No. But disturbing the peace is."
"Why don't you just trot along kid?" I said more as a command, "You-"
"Excuse me?!" she snarled, getting right into my face, "Remember who you're talking to!"
"I do. An over-zealous rookie who who's letting her power go to her head."
"Curb your tongue civilian or you will be spending some time in the slammer."
"Fuck off, little girl. The only one causing a scene here, is you."
"That's it. You're coming with me!"
"No I'm not. I'm going on a train."
"Oh? And how exactly do you plan to do that? You can't even afford a ticket."
"With this," I replied, showing my ticket.
"And where did you get that?"
"Spitfire gave it too me."
"Captain Spitfire? Of the Wonderbolts?"
I nodded.
"Sure she did. Do you have proof?"
"Yes," I replied, showing her the letter and getting rather tired of her attitude.
She snatched the letter out of my hoof, almost ripping it, and read it.
After a few seconds she looked back at me. Suspiciously.
"How do I know this is genuine?"
"Why are you being like this?"
"Like what?"
"Looking for things that are wrong that you know there's nothing wrong with?"
"I'm just doing my job."
"Like you did at Hay Burger?"
Her eyes reduced to pinpricks, momentarily startled by my response. Almost like she knew she acted inappropriately.
"You didn't even let me give my side of the story. You just joined in on the side of those reprobate delinquents and the troglodyte burger flipper."
"Don't tell me how to do my job."
"I wouldn't need to if you did your duty correctly."
The pig pony didn't respond, looking at wide eyed again. In her moment of inattention I grabbed back the letter and put it in my saddle bag and began to leave.
"You can't leave!"
"Why? No crime has been committed."
"I'm talking to you."
"Am I under arrest?"
"No."
"Then good day to you."
I immediately took to the air, giving me an immediate advantage over the Earthling.
"Get back down here!"
I began to look around and in my confrontation with the pig I hadn't noticed we had drawn a crowd. I took no notice of her, who was still demanding I come back down, and made my way to the platform where my train would be waiting. I landed back on the ground as I approached the ticket barrier and looking behind, expecting to see the angry mare chasing after me, instead saw her being lead away and spoken too by what looked like a more senior officer.
I eventually made it to Las Pegasus and checked into another budget hotel before deciding to take a sight seeing tour around the city. Day time was nothing special, but nighttime was admittedly impressive, just like Las Vegas, and the stadium where the performance would be was an even more impressive sight. Looking down below I could see thousands of ponies mingling around outside and inside, the atmosphere electrifying. Not wanting to look like I was trying to sneak in, I landed on the ground and began to look for the VIP entrances.
And once more, I was attracting looks on my lack of arse branding.
"Excuse me, sir?"
I turned around and saw a most unwanted sight.
A press pony.
Before I could even answer, a bright flash engulfed my vision. Her damn photographer just blasted his flash right in front of me.
"What?" I asked, trying to blink my vision back into focus.
"Do you have a few moments to answer a few questions?"
"No."
"But sir, I work for the Canterlot News Network."
"And?"
I tried to ignore her and walk away but the damn bitch just followed me.
"Sir, why do you not have a cutie mark?"
"Piss off."
"Is it because you have no talent?"
"Get lost before I shove that recorder up your plot."
"Do you anger issues stem from not having a cutie mark?"
"My anger issues stem from nosy ponies who have extremely narrow world views."
"Are you good at anything?"
"Making chocolate. Now will you leave me the fuck alone?"
"So why do you not have a cutie mark to reflect that?"
"You asked what I was good at, not what my special talent is."
"But..." the reporter continued, "How can you be sure you're good at it if you don't have a cutie mark?"
"I don't need a mark on my arse to know what my abilities are."
"But-"
"You see, this is the issue I have with Equestrians," I snarled, getting into her face, "Your belief that you must have a 'cutie mark' to know what you are good at is so deeply ingrained that you can't conceive of managing without one. You see those without one as beneath you, that because they don't have one that they mustn't be good at anything."
"But if they did have a special talent then they would have a cutie mark," the reporter replied.
"Jesus Fucking Christ! You're unbelievable!"
I shook my head and began to walk away, only to be chased after the mare.
"Who is this Jesus Fucking Christ?"
"Get lost!"
"I have more questions!"
"I've better things to do than to answer questions to red top 'journalists' who crave far too much enjoyment in brown nosing the Sun Bitch's plot!"
The mare looked at me and snarled aggressively, "How dare you speak of our Princess, your Princess in such a manner!"
"That bitch isn't my Princess. I'm not even an Equestrian citizen."
"Oh? Then where do you come from? Another planet?"
"Yes, actually."
"Perfect," the mare replied, smiling and trying not to laugh, "This is going to make a great article."
"Oh really. You can't do real journalism so you retort to making a mockery of other ponies by twisting their words into sensationalised bullshit that panders to the lowest common denominator?."
"I've no idea what those words mean but the only one making a fool of you is yourself, good bye, blank flank."
I watched her fly away with her twat of a photographer who was grinning like a Cheshire cat who managed to get in one last photo before leaving.
"Media scum."
I soon found the VIP entrances and made my way over, flashing my ticket to the stewards on duty. Thankfully they said nothing abut my lack of cutie mark. There was still some time before the show started so I decided to head to the bar in the VIP lounge for a quick pint, passing some nobles along the way. I got my pint and went to sit at a table overlooking the field below and the tens of thousands of fans already inside the stadium, cheering and chanting as they waited for the show.
Sadly, my peace was disturbed by yet another unwelcome presence.
"Hello darling," Rarity said, eyeing me up like a vulture ready to pounce, "Come to ask to be a live ponyquin again?"
I turned around to face she she-demon, "No I haven't, so fuck off."
"Ugh!" she huffed, stomping a hoof on the floor, "You are such an uncouth brutish colt! I should teach you some manners in how to act like a gentlecolt!"
"Wouldn't dainty lady be more appropriate?" Applejack asked, "He did model some pretty dresses for you, after all."
"As I recall," I replied, my anger rising as the girls began laughing amongst themselves, "Twilight froze me in place and the only reason I crashed was because your psycho pink basket case friend appeared in front of me without warning, forcing me to take evasive action."
"Firstly," Rarity replied, "It's Princess Twilight, and secondly-"
"Shut the fuck up."
I turned to leave only to come face to face with an most unwelcome sight at the most inconvenient of times.
"Shit."
"How dare you swear at me!" Twilight scolded, "How dare you swear at my friends!"
"Why don't you run along and reorganise your library again."
"I did that this morning."
"Whatever. Good day."
I went to leave only to find myself magically lifted back over to in front of Twilight, trying to look intimidating but failing due to lack of height, She's shorter than me for crying out loud. That and she doesn't have that aura of 'screw with me and you won't live long enough to regret it'.
"What are you doing here?" she asked.
"Spitfire invited me. Not that it's any of your business."
"I am a Princess of Equestria. It is my business to know what it is you are doing."
"No it's not."
"It is. Show me your VIP pass!"
"Why?"
"Because I said so."
"Do you really think I would be here if I didn't have the necessary pass to get past security?"
"I don't know. Considering your history if making up crazy stories-"
"Everything I have said is true."
"Oh nelly," Applejack replied, shaking her head and trying not to laugh, "Here he goes again."
"I think we may need to arrange some sessions with Lyra," Rarity added.
"Lyra can go and do one," I replied.
"Doctor Heartstrings has only your well being in mind," Twilight replied, "You would do well to listen to her."
"Lyra's a crazy bitch who needs a padded room and straight jacket herself. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going-"
"You're not going anywhere until you apologise to my friends."
"I've nothing to apologise for."
There was several seconds of silence as Twilight tried to stare me into apologising, but like the weak leader she is, she backed down.
"Princess Celestia will hear of this."
"Oooh, I'm so scared of what a cake addict will do."
I watched the show from my VIP box, thankfully with no more interruptions. Admittedly, the show was great. The stunts, the lighting effects, the music all choreographed to perfection. Clearly Spitfire drills her subordinates hard. I continued to watch as the Wonderbolts landed centre stage, lapping up the applause. Skittles to an extreme degree.
I thought that that would be that, however I saw Twilight and her moronic friends approach the stage, where Twilight soon took the microphone.
Have you ever had that feeling that something is about to not go your way?
I was having that feeling right about now.
"Good evening mares and gentlecolts," Twilight said, "First I must say, that I speak for everypony here when I say to the Wonderbolts that that was a fantastic performance."
The crowd erupted into cheers and stomped their hooves, I just remained resting an elbow on the railing, propping my head up with a hoof. I couldn't care less what that sycophant has to say. I should have paid more attention however, as without warning I suddenly found myself surrounded by a bright light.
Coming to my senses, I saw the Master of Ceremonies approach, a Pegasus. Not that I could miss him with his huge cheesy grin with pearly white teeth and bright blue sequined jacket.
"Congratulations sir!" he said, his voice booming around the stadium, "You have won!"
The crows erupted into cheers again. I just looked around completely perplexed.
"Won what?"
The crowd burst into laughter, as did the MoC.
"Well, a chance to join the Wonderbolts onstage and fly some laps around the stadium with them!"
The crowd cheered and the MoC was beckoning me to join him. I don't think the crowd was expecting me to give the answer I did.
"No thanks."
The gasps could have sucked the stadium dry of oxygen.
"You...you don't want to fly with the Wonderbolts?!"
I shook my head.
"Why not?"
"I have my reasons, of which I won't be sharing."
The crowd began booing, clearly not impressed with having my own opinions and desires. The MoC, in fairness, tried to salvage the situation.
"Well, I'm sure the reasons are-"
"May I? Master of Ceremonies?" I heard Twilight say, remaining centre stage but talking to the entire stadium using her overrated magic.
The MoC looked to Twilight and smiled happily, "Certainly, Princess."
"Thank you," she replied, before turning her attention to me, "If you don't wish to join the Wonderbolts on stage, then would you like to join me?"
I didn't, but I knew telling a Princess to go and do one in front of thousands of ponies wouldn't help me in the present time. Or at any point in the future.
Reluctantly, I got up; trying to hide my anger.
"Fine."
The crowd cheered again and I followed the MoC down to the centre stage landing just in front of Twilight. I could tell by the smug looks on her and her friend's faces that my night was about to take a nose dive.
"Greetings," she said, being as 'Princessy' as possible, "It's a pleasure to meet you."
"I'm sure it is."
"I thought I recognised you. My mentor, Princess Celestia has told me much about you."
What?
"I've never met your Princess."
"Oh? Did you not go to her recently and tell her of your amazing stories?"
"Stories?"
"Of aliens on another world?" she said, clearly relishing in trying to humiliate me, "She said the stories sounded fascinating."
"I'm not a story writer," I replied.
"Princess Celestia seems to disagree. She said the premise of them sounded exciting and was wondering when you would be publishing them."
"Never."
"Never?"
"I'm not a story writer," I repeated, "Everything I told you was true! But if writing stories is what it takes to convince you I'm being truthful then so be it! I'll write my world's history into stories so all can see that I was always right! The Spanish Armada! The Battle of Britain! The Battle of Waterloo! The Apollo Moon Landings! The Titanic! The Gunpowder Plot! History will be my oyster!"
The crowd began cheering wildly, more so than before. I looked around and saw those around e acting very differently. The Wonderbolts were slack jawed, sans Spitfire who was smiling happily, while the girls looked happy, but their smiles came across as disingenuous. Except Pinkie, who was bouncing up and down excitably.
Wondering what the commotion was, Twilight pointed to my flank. I turned my head to see something I didn't want to see.
My cutie mark.
One related to me saying I would tell stories.
Of all the times my magic arse tattoo had to make itself known, it would have to have been then.
After that happened, I quickly left the stage knowing full well that my new asset would only convince the others that I was indeed a crackpot. I was making my way back to the VIP lounge for much needed booze when I saw two Solar Guards approach, both with faces like a wet weekend.
"Hawker Hurricane, their Highness's have summoned you to the Royal Booth. Come with us at once."
"No."
"Excuse me!" the guard replied, looking even more scowly, "Did you just refuse a summons from the Princesses?
"Yes. I'm not one of their subjects, they can't summon me."
"Yes you are their subject and you will appear as summoned!"
The guards semi-forced me down the hallway to what was the Royal Booth. They opened the door and forced me inside and shoved me in front of Celesta and Luna. And Twilight who was looking smug as ever, like a good teacher's pet.
"Apologies for the tardiness, Princesses, but the subject refused your summons."
"Oh he did, did he?" queried Luna, scowling harshly at me, "Then our subject will be punished severely."
I rolled my eyes. Luna is such a touchy snowflake.
"No he won't, Luna," Celestia replied, approaching me, "Good evening, Hawker Hurricane."
"What do you want?"
"Watch your tongue, subject," Luna scolded, "Lest you wish to spend time in the castle dungeons!"
"Fuck off."
"HOW DARE-"
"Luna! Calm yourself," Celestia said sternly before turning her attention back to me, "Please do not speak to us in such a manner, it-"
"Why not? You spoke to me like I was dirt when I came to see you."
"We have told you before, Mr Hurricane, what you say is not true. You have always been a pony."
"No I haven't! What I've told you is the truth, no matter how absurd or outrageous it may seem."
"Yet your cutie mark shows that your talent is making up stories."
"What I said actually happened. What is fact for one is fiction for another. This idiotic mark is just a damned inconvenience!"
"You don't have to pretend any more, Mr Hurricane," Celestia replied in a condescending tone, "In fact, I could arrange for you to receive a stipend whilst you write your stories, with Twilight at hoof to help."
"Why would I want that shut-in to help me with anything?"
Celestia, and Twilight, scowled at me, "Twilight is not a shut-in."
"Whatever, besides I've already been offered a job."
"Oh, who with?"
"The Wonderbolts. Spitfire offered me a job as a personal assistant to the flight team."
"And you have accepted?"
"Might as well. At least I'll have a roof over my head and three meals a day."
All three Princesses blinked.
"What?" Celestia asked.
"I've been homeless ever since I got to Equestria, and because I didn't have a magic arse tattoo no-one would give me a job."
"You've been homeless?"
"Yes. How could you not know?"
"Don't you have family that could have taken you in?"
"My family are back on Earth. I have no family here. No friends either."
"Of course you have family. A real family here in Equestria and not one that only exists in your head."
"Really? Who are they then?"
"You don't know who your own family are?"
"I know exactly who my family are. I don't know who my fake pony family are. No doubt whoever they are will have been paid by you to pretend to be as such."
"I would never do such a thing," she replied, pretending to look hurt and offended.
"Sure you won't. Now if there's nothing else, I'm leaving."
I flew away, not caring if I offended them or not and headed back to my hotel. My night ruined.
"I still say that we throw him in the dungeons!" Luna yelled, "He'll get shelter and three meals a day then!"
"I am not putting an innocent pony in the dungeons, Luna," Celestia replied, "Mr Hurricane is lost and confused and needs our help."
"I'd still like to help him, Celestia," Twilight said, "And I think some session with Dr Heartstrings would help."
"Very well, " Celestia replied, "Help him Twilight, but I advise against forcing any meeting with Dr Heartstrings. To do so may only push him further away, and make it harder to help him in the future."
"What did I tell you?" Soarin asked, taking off his flight-suit, "He's a crackpot!"
"But-"
"Look Cap," Fleetfoot interrupted, "We know you only want to help him, but his cutie mark appeared when he said he would write stories. And from what Crash has told us, what more proof do you need?"
Spitfire sighed deeply, "Even if he is a basket case, I still made the job offer and it still stands."
"Fine," Soarin replied, "But when he damages the image of the Wonderbolts-"
"He won't," Spitfire said, frowning slightly, "I'm sure of it."
*THE FOLLOWING MORNING*
"Oh shit," I said, as I looked at the front page of The Canterlot Times
BLANK FLANK CLAIMS TO BE FROM ANOTHER WORLD DISRESPECTS OUR GREAT PRINCESS CELESTIA
I read the article, and everything I said was there. To make matters worse, the media scum journalist had already made arrangements to broadcast what she recorded of my words on the radio.
How do I know?
An angry mob of ponies where waiting outside the hotel, just waiting for me to come out.
And the same journalist was reporting live from outside, as I listened inside.
"Will the crazy stallion who disrespected our great and wonderful Princess ever come out? Stay tuned as we give round the clock coverage.
Just then there was a knock at the door.
I went over and answered it, seeing the hotel manager with a security guard.
"Mr Hurricane, I'm afraid that I'm going to have to ask you to leave."
*MEANWHILE, AT WONDERBOLT HQ, SPITFIRE'S OFFICE*
"I told you so," Soarin said as he watched Spitfire face plant onto her desk, as the radio continued to broadcast.
"You're no longer welcome to stay here," the manager replied, scowling at me like I was dirt beneath his hooves, "After your comments regarding our great and wonderful Princess Celestia and your ludicrous claims of being from another world, you're too much of a liability."
"But I've nowhere to go."
"That's not my problem."
"But-"
"Leave! Now!"
Hanging my head to my fate, I quickly packed up what few belongings I had and headed for the room door. The manager and security guard followed me out, the manager deliberately speaking loudly, "Make sure the ex-blank flank leaves. Through the main entrance."
Great. Force me out to face ravenous unhinged crackpots who want to flay me alive. How kind of you.
I zipped up my Wonderbolt fleece and put the hood up, trying to conceal myself from the crowd, even though the Equestrian papers had been so kind as to already show my mugshot to the nation. I slowly approached the entrance where the noise of the crowd grew louder. I could see them chanting and waving banners with various slogans and some with my picture behind a red circled with diagonal line through it.
"Don't ever come back," the hotel manager said, "You're banned for life from this hotel chain."
"If this is how you treat guests who have different opinions, then I choose to never to stay here again."
"OUT!"
I walked forward to the open entrance and was met with the furious crowd as I heard the entrance door behind me close and lock. As I turned back around to face the crowd, the same pony from last night was in front of me with cameras flashing away behind her.
"Standing in front of me right now is the ex-blank flank colt who defiled the name of our great princess. Have you no shame?" she said, reporting live on air as she shoved a mike into my face.
"Piss off."
The crowd gasped.
"You will not swear! We are live on air!"
"Get that fucking mike out of my face then."
The crowd again gasped angrily. If they keep doing it I'll probably die from brain asphyxiation because the simpletons have breathed in all the precious oxygen.
Thieves.
"I don't have time for your bullshit, good day," I said as I took to the air.
"He's escaping!" one of the crowd shouted.
"Don't let him get away!" cried another.
I gained as much altitude as I could but natural born Pegasi were quick on my tail.
"GET BACK HERE!"
I turned back and saw that crazy press pony.
"NO PONY IGNORES QUESTIONS FROM CNN!"
Looks like I'm gonna have to get creative. Noting the many tall skyscrapers of Las Pegasus, I descended rapidly and decided to use aerobatics rather than speed to try and lose them.
"DON'T LET THE HERETIC GET AWAY!"
Approaching a tall skyscraper, I went half way down before suddenly pulling level and turning left, executing a barrel roll to take the turn more easily and maintain speed. I then quickly changed direction again, taking a sharp right and another right and then left.
This carried on for several minutes throughout the skyscrapers of Las Pegasus, no doubt putting on a show for the ponies below.
Despite my best efforts though, while I had lengthened the gap between myself and my pursuers, they were still chasing me and I was beginning to get tired.
A few more twists and turns and I had at least got out of their line of sight and I found myself on the strip, quickly gaining the looks of locals.
"It's him!"
I ignored them and quickly made my way along the strip, eager to find a way out of town. The train station was a fair way away, and those psycho press ponies and baying mob would find me before I would even get close.
To make matters worse, my stomach rumbled.
"Great," I mumbled, "Just what I need."
I continued to make my way down the strip, keeping an eye out for a place to eat and quite quickly found a Hay King. Wasting no time I went inside and to my relief it was fairly empty and with only a couple of ponies ahead of me in the queue. I quickly joined in behind them and decided on what I would have, desperately hoping that I would at least be left alone long enough to have some breakfast.
I eventually was seen to and had a Double Cheese Hayburger with fries and lemonade. I paid for my meal and went to sit at a table away from the windows where, whilst eating, I began to contemplate my life from now on.
It wasn't enough I was dumped in pastel midget horse land looking like one of the brain dead locals, I've also been stigmatised as a 'blank flank', pissed off the rulers and their six pets, been demeaned and humiliated by said six pets, made to look like a crackpot in front of tens of thousands by the rulers who won't believe anything I tell them purely because it's to outrageous to believe; and now I have angry press ponies harassing me for having different opinions.
But I did meet Spitfire. Speaking of whom offered me a job.
And Spitfire is a trustworthy name with great history and heritage to it.
Remembering her offer, I decided that Wonderbolts HQ would be my next destination. All I had to do is get out of Las Pegasus without being seen. I finished my meal and left, eager to make my move while I still could. I opened the door to Hay King and went outside.
"THERE HE IS!"
Jesus wept.
Before I knew it, a microphone was shoved in my face.
"Why are you trying to run from us? Are you afraid to answer for your crimes?"
"What crimes?"
"The crime of disrespecting our great and wonderful princess!"
"That's not a crime. What is a crime is what you are doing."
"Disrespecting the princess is a crime, and what supposed crime have we committed against you?"
"Harassment! You keep chasing me around and will not leave me alone! Now get lost, I have business to attend to."
"What kind of business?" the press pony asked, "Going to make a call to your home planet?"
The crowd laughed heartily.
Having no time for these simpletons, I turned and began to leave.
"Where do you think you're going? I haven't finished asking you questions!"
"I'm under no obligation to answer anything to you. Now get lost, leave me alone."
I took to the air again and was once again followed by the press pony.
"You just won't give up, will you?"
"No. I'm not resting until you answer my questions."
"You'll be waiting for a hell of a long time then. Now beat it!"
"Make me."
I decided to pick up speed, to see if I could out fly the stupid bimbo, though the burger I just had would probably hold me back a little bit.
"Don't fly away from me!"
I ignored her and began to gain altitude and speed as rapidly as possible.
"GET BACK HERE!"
I didn't look back but I could tell she was being left behind so I pushed harder onwards. Seeing cloudier skies above, as soon as I thought I lost her I quickly changed course to make a direct approach to Wonderbolt HQ.
"WHERE ARE YOU?!"
Fortunately, I had no more run-ins with that crazy press pony and managed to fly to Wonderbolt HQ with no further incident. As I approached however, I was greeted by a welcoming committee.
"Hey there, homeless bum."
"Fuck off, Soarin."
"Don't you dare talk to me like that!"
"Don't call me a homeless bum then."
"Why you little-"
"Hawker!"
I looked up and saw what was probably the only pony I had on my side right now.
"Spitfire."
"So, you decided to come?"
"Yeah. There was an...incident, at the hotel."
"So I heard," Spitfire replied, "I also heard you gave some press ponies the fly around."
"I did what I had to to lose them."
"From what I was told you did some pretty advanced moves for an amateur."
"As I said, I did what I had to."
"I'm not complaining, besides...if you can fly like that with little practice it makes me wonder what you could do if you were one of us."
"You cannot be serious!" Soarin yelled.
"Enough Soarin," Spitfire replied, turning back to me, "Come on, I'll chat to you in my office, go over the paperwork for the job. That's why you came, right?"
I nodded.
"Great, follow me."
I followed her as instructed, and was in turn followed by the other Wonderbolts.
"What the Tartarus does your cutie mark mean?" asked Misty Fly.
"Don't know, don't care. These arse tattoos mean nothing to me."
"It appeared on his flanks when he made up those stories," Soarin added, "His special talent is probably making stories up."
"Give us a story, Hawky," Fleetfloot mocked.
"Yeah," Soarin added, "Come on, Hawky."
"Shut your pie hole, Soarin."
"That's not very nice," Soarin replied.
"Neither is mocking me for being homeless or formerly a blank flank."
"We were only joking."
"Yeah, 'cause that makes it OK."
"Jeez, lighten up," Misty replied.
"I won't lighten up. You try 'lightening up' when you have been ripped from everything and everyone you've ever known and loved."
"Come on guys," Spitfire said, "Leave him be."
The other Bolts flew away, leaving me alone with Spitfire, who was now flying alongside me, very close.
"Thanks."
"Anytime. I do have one question though, Hawker."
"What's that?"
"Do you like banana milkshake?" she asked with a big, unnerving grin.
I watched as Spitfire opened her private fridge in her office and saw it full to the brim with banana milkshakes.
"You weren't kidding," I said, looking at it all.
"Nope," Spitfire replied, taking two bottles out, "Here."
I took it as she closed the fridge door and walked back over to her desk.
"Take a seat," she said.
"Thanks," I replied, doing so.
"So, about being our personal helper. You're still interested?"
I nodded, "So long as the others stop treating me like crap, then yes."
"Don't worry about them, I'll tell them to knock it off."
"They'll still take the piss."
"Then respond in kind. Show them you have the spine I believe you to have and they'll back off. But on to the job itself. Essentially, you'll be assisting the core members with things such as making sure our flight suits and goggles are ready and prepped on show days, lunch preparation unless arrangements have already been made, packing and unpacking bags, that sort of thing."
"And what of being ordered around like a personal lackey?"
"You won't have to go to Hay King to collect burgers if that's what you mean. We usually take turns in that regard."
"OK. What about uniform, will I have anything to wear? So ponies know I'm with you?"
"No, but well think of something so ponies you know your with us in an official capacity."
"What about wages? What will I be paid?"
"You'll be paid twenty bits per hour and you'll work Monday to Friday, 0900 to 1700, when there's show days you'll need to travel with us, but accommodation, travel and food expenses will be paid for in addition to being paid fifty bits per hour."
"Sounds good. Anything else I need to know?"
"Whilst you won't be a Wonderbolt per se, you will still be a part of the team and your actions reflect on us accordingly."
"I'm not the one who goes looking for trouble," I said, scowling; knowing what she was implying.
"I never said you did," Spitfire raising her hooves defensively, "Only that your claims to your origin could reflect negatively on the Bolts and affect the livelihoods on not just us, but everyone involved with us."
"So you want me to keep my mouth shut about it?"
"I wouldn't quite put it like that, but...yes."
"Fine. It's getting tiresome no-one believing me anyway."
I looked back to Spitfire who looked at me with what I could only describe as concern.
"What?"
"....nothing. If you could wait here though while I go and get the paperwork to get you signed up."
"Sure."
I watched as Spitfire left the room and closed the door, a small feeling op optimism finally starting to kick in.
Maybe things were finally beginning to improve.
First task of the first day; prepare the locker rooms so the flight team can get changed. I got up and out of bed, quickly making it to look tidy and headed to the canteen for breakfast. They have what is essentially Shredded Wheat as an option, I know because I stocked the canteen last night as a favour for Spitfire as the kitchen team 'forgot'.
Anyway, three Shredded Wheat with plenty of sugar and a cup of tea was my usual breakfast of choice. One that I have missed for months.
Feeling somewhat more confident that things might actually improve for once since I cam to Little Horseland, I opened the door to the canteen and walked in.
Only to be greeted by a thud to my head and the sound of hysterical laughter.
I saw very quickly the source of the impact.
A metal bucket.
That had until three seconds ago been full of treacle.
Treacle which now covered my mane and head.
"Nice look, Mr Human," Soarin mocked.
I'm guessing he was the ringleader in this pathetic and immature prank.
"What's the matter, Hawky?" Misty Fly mocked, "Are you gonna cry?"
I said nothing. Reacting to them will give them the response they want. So instead I turned around and walked away.
"Where're you gong?" asked Rainbow, "Can't take a little prank?"
I again said nothing and continued walking to the building exit. As I did so, Spitfire came from around the approaching corridor and her eyes went to pinpricks as soon as she saw me.
"What happened?"
"What does it look like?!" I snapped back and continued to walk past her.
"Hawker! Wait!"
"You can shove your job up your plot! I'm leaving! Now if you'll excuse me, I need to find a way to get this rank shit out of my mane and fur!"
I exited the building and immediately took to the air, ignoring Spitfire's pleas.
"Hawker! Please wait!"
Of all the places to decided to go to get cleaned up, I decided to go to Ponyville. Why? Because I knew of at least one pony there who I was certain would be sympathetic to what was done to me. Taking the long route and flying over the Everfree Forest to avoid being seen by the townsfolk, I landed in front of Fluttershy's cottage and knocked on the door.
After a few seconds, the door opened.
"MY GOODNESS!"
"Hey, Fluttershy."
"Hawker! What happened?"
"I was pranked by the Wonderbolts, including Rainbow."
"Why would they do that?"
"Because they hate me and enjoy seeing me suffer. I hate pranks," I added through gritted teeth.
"I know how you feel, I hate pranks too."
"Could you help me please? You're the only one who thought might be able to help."
"Of course," she replied, standing back and opening the door fully, "Come on in and I'll do what I can."
"Thank you," I replied, taking up her offer.
*PERSPECTIVE SHIFT*
"Still funny," Soaring said as he mopped the locker room floor.
"Totally worth it," Rainbow added, the pair sharing a laugh.
"Now, you wait right here while I run you a bath," Fluttershy said as she did whatever it was she was doing.
"Sure."
I was soon on my own with only her animals for company, all of them gawking at me like I was a zoo animal.
Quickly, one in particular came up to me. A small white rabbit.
"Hey there."
It just stayed still right in front of me, looking me square in the eyes like it was scrutinising my very existence.
