A sleepy bar in Dodge Junction becomes a charnal house, as the Mare comes looking for a certain pegasus...

Written in 100 minutes, partly to get the idea out of my head and partly as a love note to TheyCallMeJub's utterly sublime Eyes Without a Face. Have at it!

UPDATE: COMPLETE! You may have heard of Pipsqueak. He's a pinto colt, originally from Trottingham, saved Nightmare Night from being abolished seven odd years ago. Know the one I'm talking about? Yes? Good. Since then he's grown into a charming, cultured hedonist who wants to bed near every mare in Ponyville and a good few of the stallions. He has a slender build and some ponies say he has mares' hips, though he feels that those ponies should shut their bloody mouths. His best mate is the gregarious and multi-talented Featherweight, and his other best mate is the stoic trencherpony and excellent cook Chowder.

This is the story of a Friday, and the wee hours of a Saturday. It's a teacher training day, and Pipsqueak and his friends have no school.

In twenty-four hours, a sinister plot to take down a local business is launched, Snips and Snails dabble in the dark magic of Peyuase, a great deal of debauchery occurs, a cocktail of unrivaled destructive power is created and a small fleet of ships are launched! All of this and more, in Pipsqueak's Day Off!

Massive thanks to LittleSallyDigby for help, editing and advice.

My name is Gilda. I used to be a Griffon warrior, until I got banished.

When you're banished, you've got nothing. No clan, no funding, no gold watch and friendly job reference. You're stuck wherever the Griffon clans aren't.

You do whatever work comes your way. You rely on anyone still talking to you. A speed-freak ex-marefriend. A megalomaniac illusionist working as a middlemare for the EIS.

Family too, if you're desperate.

Bottom line is, as long as you're banished, you're not going anywhere