> Sports Betting for Ponies > by Buck Swisher > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > You bet WHAT?!? > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- “It was only a teeny amount." "Five thousand dollars is not a teeny amount!” Celestia huffed. “I disagree.” Donovan Casey was a sports betting expert with about two years of experience. Luna, after hearing about the outrageous amounts of money Celestia was planning to bet, suggested that she hire him for advice. Donovan had figured that Celestia, given how much she told him she was betting, had at least a decent level of knowledge about what she was doing. He was dead wrong. When Celestia had first uncovered the concept of betting, it was unbelievable to her. She could generate human currency by simply picking a sports team? It was incredible. Unfortunately, she failed to grasp that in order to make money the team she bet on was supposed to win. Donovan, who had decided to meet with her at a park to discuss the matter, was soon to become aware of this. Donovan sighed. “What team did you bet on?” he asked. He prayed that she hadn’t just wasted five thousand dollars. Celestia extended a hoof upward triumphantly. “The JETS!” she proclaimed. She had just wasted five thousand dollars. Donovan buried his face in his palms. “Celestia,” he said, looking up at her. “You’re gonna go broke.” “Nonsense!” she replied. “The generous stipend your government has provided me with is more than enough!” “Yeah, when you’re not betting five thousand dollars on the New York Jets!” Donovan snapped. “I see no problem here.” said Celestia, folding her hooves like a filly. “Look,” Donovan said, “if you’re gonna bet, you gotta do it right. Because if you go broke, you’re gonna have to find a job.” “Find a job?! Absolutely not!” said the princess, flopping onto her back. “I am much too prestigious for a job!" “Well then,” said Donovan. “You gotta learn how to bet properly.” Celestia thought about it for a moment. “I suppose,” she grumbled. "If I must." “Meet me at my house in an hour,” Donovan said, handing her a slip of paper. “Here’s my address.” "I shall be there," said Celestia with a smile. A couple minutes later Donovan had begun the drive home, and he decided to stop by a McDonald’s on the way. He hadn’t eaten in three hours, and dealing with Celestia’s bullshit had made him hungry. He pulled into the drive through and ordered a Big Mac, only to be met with a strange voice saying, “You wanna EAT Big Mac?!?” After a moment of bewilderment, Donovan realized that this was probably a pony, which made sense given that they were slowly integrating themselves into human society. Regardless, this did not help his mood. After explaining that the Big Mac was a sandwich that was on the menu, he asked if the ice cream machine was working. “Oh, I’m rrreeeeeaally sorry sir, but I think it’s broken.” At least they were nice about it. “Can I get a cookie then?” Donovan asked. “We’re all out of those, sorrrryyyyyyy!!!!” said the pony. And this is what Donovan had come to expect from the average McDonald’s. He ordered a large Coke and a large fry to go with his sandwich, paid, and headed home with the food. When he walked through the front door, he let out a long sigh as he set the drink and food bag down. Dealing with Celestia was going to be way too much. Figuring he could at least enjoy a moment of peace to eat, he opened the bag. Unfortunately, he had forgotten to factor in that fast food places will pretty much always get your order wrong, especially when the employees walk on four hooves and have no experience whatsoever preparing or serving human food. Instead of the Big Mac and fries he had ordered, in the bag was a cheeseburger and a hash brown. To make matters worse, the hash brown, upon further inspection, was cold and looked like it had been sitting in the restaurant since that morning. Donovan groaned. Why did ponies have to be such a pain? Meanwhile... "So, how'd it go?" asked Luna upon Celestia's return. "Do you know what you're doing now?" "Not yet," she replied. "But he wants me to meet him at this address in about an hour." She showed her the slip of paper. Luna squinted at it for a moment. "Whatever he says, please pay attention," she said, looking back up. "We only have so much money left, and if you waste any more of it on this I will personally ensure that you have to work to pay it back." "Work??" Celestia repeated. "Absolutely not." "Sorry sister, but I will. Either figure out what you're doing or stop doing it." Celestia huffed. There had to be a way she could get this right. If sports betting was everything these humans were claiming it was, she should be able to make plenty of money off of it. And besides, what was wrong with the Jets? They had nice colors. If Celestia had taken the time to actually watch football, or even taken a moment to check the standings, she would have seen that the Jets, simply put, sucked ass. But she didn't. So she continued to have no clue. I will be the best at this, she thought to herself. I must. Donovan was watching the pregame show for that night's ESPN primetime basketball game when the doorbell rang. Immediately remembering that he had to try and prevent a pony princess from wasting her money, he sighed and got up to go open the door. Upon doing so, his eyes met the very awkward sight of Princess Celestia wearing the most outrageous outfit imaginable for this occasion. She was wearing a very loose suit jacket with a tie clipped lopsidedly to the fur on her chest. On top of all this, she had attempted to fit a fedora hat onto her head, but her horn had ripped a hole in it and left it sitting awkwardly about two inches from her mane, somewhat skewered. Donovan sighed, rubbing his face with his hands. This could not be real. After a moment, he looked up and resisted the urge to bang his head into a wall upon realizing that this was, in fact, really happening. "Celestia," he began, "what in the WORLD are you wearing." The princess grinned, her wings giving an excited flap. "It's a professional outfit! Isn't this what you humans wear for important occasions?" Donovan groaned. "The key word here is human. It's not meant for ponies to wear. Not to mention you could not possibly look less put together." He reached over and removed the hat from her horn, tossing it onto the floor in the house. "Please never show up to my house like this again," he deadpanned, opening the door wider and stepping aside for her to come in. "Fine," Celestia replied, entering the house. "But please do let me know what you would suggest I wear instead in the future." Donovan led her over to the kitchen table and sat down. "Alright, let's get this over with," he said. He pulled out his phone and opened up the Notes app. "How much do you know about sports currently?" "Well," Celestia began. "I know that football is a game with a elliptical brown ball where there are two ends of a really long grass field and the object is to score touchdowns by throwing said ball into said ends of the field." "Okaaaaay," Donovan replied. "I mean do you know what teams are good and what teams are bad." Celestia thought for a moment. "Nope," she said. "Do I need to?" Donovan resisted the urge to facepalm. "If you were rich, you wouldn't," he said exasperatedly. "But not only are you working with a limited amount of money, you're betting insane amounts without having any knowledge of what you're betting on!" "So I shouldn't bet on the Jets?" "Good lord," Donovan groaned. "The only time you should associate betting money with the Jets is if you're betting against them. Do NOT put your money on the Jets. Got it?" "Got it." "The most important thing I can tell you is that the team you bet on is supposed to win. As in score more points than the other team." Celestia let out a long oooohhhhhh of understanding as it began to dawn on her that there was a reason so few people were betting on the same teams as her. Now that she realized it, she couldn't believe she hadn't seen it sooner. "The next thing," said Donovan, "is there are odds for a reason. Those little numbers next to the names of the teams you're betting on? Use those to your advantage." "What numbers?" asked Celestia. There was a loud thud as Donovan's head hit the table. They were going to be there for a long time. FOUR HOURS LATER Donovan rubbed his temples, wondering if he would ever mentally recover from this. Sitting across from him, Celestia was squinting at the screen of her phone, looking at a bunch of tiny numbers. After spending the past four hours trying to educate her on how to make better bets, he had definitely made progress. She now understood what teams were good, what teams were bad, and she saw the wisdom in only betting a little bit of money as opposed to the egregious amounts she typically gambled. To be honest, she had pretty much gotten the hang of betting. The only problem was, dealing with the pure stupidity of the princess had taken a toll on Donovan, and he felt like he had lost half of his brain cells in his efforts. While he was happy that he had managed to talk some sense into Celestia, he couldn't help but wonder if it would all be in vain. For all he knew, she'd blow the rest of her money the moment she left his house. Feeling like he'd had enough for the day, he spoke. "I think we're done here," he said before standing up. "I've taught you everything I can." "Are you sure?" the princess replied, looking up at him. "I don't think I understand this as thoroughly as you say I should." She went back to squinting at her phone. "Yes, I'm sure," Donovan replied with a sigh. "And you need to get home anyway. It's too late for you to still be here." "I suppose," Celestia agreed, rising from her chair. "Thank you for the help." She gave him a bright smile before wrapping her forelegs around him in a grateful hug. Even in his exhaustion, Donovan couldn't help but return it. "You're welcome," he said. "Try not to blow the rest of your money, alright?" "I shall do my best," the princess replied, giving him a salute. "I appreciate your advice. I cannot deny that I needed it." "No problem," said Donovan as he led her to the door. Once she was gone, he flopped onto his couch and sighed. He made a mental note to, from this point forward, charge a fee if he ever did this for a pony again. Today had been far too much work, and he was a little annoyed that he had done it for free. That was not happening again. Hopefully. The next day... "Sister," said Luna in a voice of deadly calm. "Yes?" Celestia replied. It was Monday morning, about a week after her meeting with Donovan, and she had walked into the kitchen to find her sister glaring at her from the table, clutching a cup of coffee. Something was up, she assessed, and whatever it was it wasn't good. "Please explain why our bank account is completely empty," growled the moon princess, forcing her face into a smile. It was fairly unsettling. "I thought we agreed that you would not waste our money." "Well..." said Celestia sheepishly. "I... thought it was a good bet..." What had happened, as Luna was unfortunately about to find out, was that Celestia had decided to go all in on the biggest football game of the year: the Super Bowl. She had figured that the team she picked, the 49ers, were a safe bet. When they turned out not to be, after absolutely fucking selling, she decided to put off telling her sister. But what she was unaware of was that Luna inspected their finances daily, making sure Celestia wasn't making any stupid decisions. The expression on her face when she had seen that they had not a cent left in their bank account was one of anger so intense even the toughest solider would have shit their pants at the sight of it. It was ugly. And now, as she waited for Celestia to explain herself, it was taking everything she had in her to keep her composure. However, when she heard her sister utter the word bet, she immediately knew where it was going to go and almost lost it right there. And once she had heard the entire story, her self-restraint had finally given way. "So you mean to tell me," she said in a deadly voice, rising from her chair and starting toward her sister, "that you bet EVERYTHING WE HAD ON A FOOTBALL GAME?!?!?" Celestia's voice was barely audible as she replied. "...yes." The rage from Luna that followed this answer was so intense it was arguably worse than her Nightmare days. However, this was not the worst thing Celestia would encounter as a result of her actions. As soon as Luna had calmed down, she gave her sister an ultimatum. "You will either get a job," she said flatly, "Or get out of this house." As unorthodox as it was for Celestia to be told like a lazy teenager to get a job, she knew better than to argue. She wasn't sure whether or not Luna was bluffing about kicking her out, but it wasn't something she was willing to test. So, as much as she despised it, she set out in search of work. A few hours later, she found herself at McDonald's asking for a job application.