Title:           Shooting The Breeze (R63 Spitfire)
Author:          Six_Hooves_Under
Pastebin link:   http://pastebin.com/QhukmenT
First Edit:      Tuesday 12th of February 2013 11:49:30 PM CDT
Last Edit:       Tuesday 12th of February 2013 11:49:30 PM CDT

For those of you that don't know, this was a story done from a grab bag by Shukaku20. I happened to get a Comedy with R63 Spitfire. This is what happened.
 
>You are Anonymous.
>Test Pilot extraordinaire.
>Or, you would be if Equestria had jet fuel.
>Which was being worked on.
>The royalty of Canterlot really want to see your jet fly again.
>Apparently your plane made some really big rainbow thing if you broke Mach 1 in Equestria.
>They said something about wanting to harvest the power from that rainbow or something.
>The scientists also think that you might also return to Earth if you go fast enough.
>You thought it was pretty gay yourself.
>But hey, you were getting paid to wait around until the ponies could figure out how to refine jet fuel for you.
>So it's not all bad.
>So, instead of flying the friendly skies, you're stuck sitting in the cockpit of the F-22 Raptor watching the Wonderbolt cadets do their afternoon flight exercises through a pair of binoculars.
>This shit is boring.
>The cadets are not even going particularly fast.
>You watch as a couple of cadets break formation and collide into each other during a banking maneuver.
“Spitfire must be going easy on them.”
>But what is NOT boring is going to the bar with the actual Wonderbolts.
>Which was going to happen pretty soon.
>Spitfire was due to to clock out any minute now.
>As you think that, you hear the sound of wingbeats and the clatter of hoofs on the airframe of the Raptor.
>”You look incredibly bored.”
>You don't even bother to look away from your binoculars.
>You know who it is.
“Speak of the devil and he shall appear. How's things at the Wonderbolt Academy?”
 
>You hear the stallion settle down on his haunches as he seats himself on the plane.
>”Horribly. The new cadets just won't listen. And to top it all off, they're getting sloppy.”
“I can te-OOOHOHOHO!!! What have we here?!”
>”What?”
“Here.”
>You toss your binoculars behind you towards Spitfire.
>You hear him catch them in his hooves.
“Check out Soarin's group.”
>After a moment, Spitfire manages to find what you are pointing at.
>”....how the hell?”
“I don't even know man.”
>”That shouldn't even be possible.”
“Yet it happened.”
>Soarin had SOMEHOW managed to get his head stuck inside of Fleetfoot's flightsuit.
>Through the tailhole.
>”Talk about head-on collisions.”
“You know Soarin was hoping for a different head to collide.”
>You shoot Spitfire a mischievous grin.
“You and I both know Soarin's been trying to tap that for ages. He did that on purpose.”
>Spitfire lets out a sigh.
>”And I keep trying to tell him that Fleetfoot and Rapidfire have a thing going on.”
“A thing? Really? Rapidfire gets caught balls deep in Fleetfoot in the locker room and that's just a thing?”
>Spitfire drops the binoculars.
>”Wait, what! When was this?”
“Last Friday! Oh, and another thing! Apparently Rapidfire and Fleetfoot are swingers!”
>At this point, you turned around to face Spitfire and are wildly gesticulating as you speak.
 
>”Get out!”
“No, seriously! Ask Cloudchaser and Flitter.”
>”But they're sisters.”
“Come on man, put two and two together.”
>”....You mean...”
“Yep.”
>”No way!”
“Totally.”
>”Fleetfoot is totally bi! Bucking called it! Soarin owes me a hundred bits!”
“And another thing I just thought of. Why is she called FleetFOOT? Shouldn't her name be Fleethoof? It just doesn't make sense!”
>Spitfire looks like he's going to say something, but his mouth just hangs open for a moment.
>”....you know what? That's a really good damn point. Now that's just going to bug me every time I think about it. Fuck you Anon.”
“Love you too Spits. All the homo.”
>You see Spitfire cross his forelegs and puff his cheeks out at you off the reflection of your instrument cluster.
>You can't help but laugh at Spitfire's expense.
>It's so easy to screw with him.
“By the way,you're paying for my drinks tonight moneybags.”
>”No way, you drink like a fish.”
“I can't help it pony booze are so weak.”
>The conversation between the two of you dies down for a bit before Spitfire continues on.
 
>”Hey, I just gotta know. How do you even hear all of this?”
”Spits, I'm stuck here until someone manages to make me some jet fuel. All's I do all day is sit on my ass and talk to ponies who wander up to me.”
>”No wonder why you always look so bored.”
“Yeah, normally I'm flying jets around to test them out and see if they check out alright after maintenance was done on them.”
>”Speaking of, I still can't get over how big this thing is.”
“Spits, I normally don't hear that from guys.”
>It takes him a minute, but Spitfire eventually gets the joke and trots over to you just to whack you on the head.
>”I swear, you're such a colossal faggot.”
“Only on Thursdays.”
>”It's Tuesday!”
>Another whack.
>”Now get your mind out of the gutter. We have a bar to run dry.”
“Oooh, is Soarin coming? I need a new victim. You're getting too easy.”
>”I may be easy, but I ain't cheap. You're paying for MY drinks this time. Your stipend can handle it.”
>You crack a wide smile at Spitfire's retort.
“Oho! You're finally getting the hang of witty banter! To the bar it is then. Let's go get Soarin, Rapidfire, and...FleetFOOT.”
>Spitfire's eyes cross over on themselves as you annunciate her name.
“Oh fuck you Anon! I just got that out of my head!”
>You jump out of the Raptor's cockpit as Spitfire tries to put you in a chokehold.
>Spitfire playfully divebombs you the rest of the way to the bar, trying to attack you.