Title:           Max Payne in Equestria
Author:          Atland
Pastebin link:   http://pastebin.com/GeXXvZV9
First Edit:      Sunday 15th of September 2013 08:01:20 AM CDT
Last Edit:       Sunday 15th of September 2013 08:01:20 AM CDT

>Day Painkillers in Equestria.
>Addiction is a powerful thing.
 
>Struggling to open your eyes to the soft buzzing of the doorbell, you fight against the poison in your system.
>Ironically, it's the very same poison that makes life almost bearable.
>You appear to be lying in a mixture of saliva, sweat and vomit.
>The pools of body liquid surrounds your head as it lays on the coffee table, with the lower half of your body still sitting on the couch, back badly hunched over.
>Not recalling when or how you slept last night, the answer comes to you in the form of a bottle of whiskey in your hand.
>Spine cracking as you sit up, the doorbell rings some more.
>Bottles of painkillers, empty whiskey bottles and magazines, both ammunition and reading material, are strewn across the floor.
>You wade through them, kicking a whiskey bottle without a care along the way, and answer the door.
>Recoiling at the brightness of the sun, your eyes adjust to the figure upon your doorstep.
>It's your client, Fluttershy.
>Her heart's full of gold, but in a place full of diamonds.
>You don't really know why she came to be your client.
>Neither do you remember actually coming here.
>The only memories you have of your life before these ponies were the beach in Bahia, shortly after massacring Sao Paulo's finest.
>There is, of course, the screams of your wife that no amount of poison, drug-induced euphoria or gunshots can drown out;
>The result of what happens when you wake up from the 'American Dream'.
>You reach to take a bottle of painkillers on the floor, and swallow its entirety.
>The label read: 'Painkillers help ease the pain'
>Yeah, ease the pain back into you.
 
>Private security isn't really a lucrative business here, as crime rates are lower than point one percent.
>Nevertheless, this pony had hired you.
>You don't really mind, her money pays for your addictions.
"Fluttershy"
>"H-Hey Max..."
>Memories of events long ago come flooding back.
>As with all mistakes in your life, it had all always started with a common thing.
>There's always the girl.
>On Earth, and even here now, it starts with a female.
>"S-so, Max... I need a big, s-strong guy to help me with s-something"
>You don't need to call upon your ageing detective skills to know where she'll be heading with this.
>It had been a... 'quirk' with her.
>You rub your stubbly chin, and along your sideburns.
>Sighing out of your nose, you ask,
"What is it this time?"
>The accidental roughness in your words made it seem like you were shouting at her.
>She retreats into a ball of yellow and pink.
>You would call it cute, if you weren't so inebriated.
>Sliding your hands under her body, you lift her inside.
>She rears her head up to look inside your abode.
>It's rare you showed such an insight to your private life like this.
>Ponies don't just cross the road to avoid your house, they take a different road.
>Fluttershy's curiosity overwhelms her fears as she starts to explore around.
>There's nothing interesting for her to find, unless she's a drug addict or an alcoholic.
>She throws a panicked look at you.
>"W-Where's the food? Where are all the plates and cutleries?"
"All I've got is either on the floor, or about to be"
>"This is no way for you to live! You should come home with me!... if you want..."
>A smile forms on your lips.
>It's been a while since someone cared about your well-being.
"Thanks for the offer, but I've survived armies of men shooting at me before. I'm sure I can handle a bit of 'self-preservation'"
>She trots over to the front door, with determination in each step.
>"I'll come back with food from the market, stay here and don't move, okay sweetie?"
>You let out a chuckle, not because it was funny, but out of nostalgic reasons.
>The last person to call you 'Sweetie' is now 6 feet under, buried along with a piece of your heart.
>The other piece was with Mona, and now that too, is gone forever.
>The cynical part of you says it's for the better.
>That's one less vital spot for enemies to hit.
>But if there's nothing there, then why does it still hurt?