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AiE: Tex-Eques [Chapter 1]

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>You’re Anonymous, but all your friends call you Anon.
>Farmhand? You know it.
>Quickdraw? Best this side of Austin.
>Texan? Hell yes.
>However, tonight is the last night you’re going to hang up your hat on planet Earth.
>Well, that was a figure of speech.
>Only time you took it off was to wipe the sweat off your brow after a long day on the farm or when you sleep.
>However, you weren’t sleeping tonight until you got totally hammered.
>Three six packs in a cooler next to you, ice cold.
>You’d been working all week and you were ready to kick back.
>Crack open the first can of Budweiser.
>Turn on TV to something random that you can get into.
>Take first drink.
>An hour later.
>Hammered.
>About to start last drink when TV suddenly changes to pastel horses.
>You shrug, too drunk to care, and down half the can.
>You black out.
>You wake up.
>It’s dark out.
>That’s normal.
>Moon is full.
>You see this through of a window.
>A stone window.
“What in tarnation..?”
>You manage, drunker than a sailor.
>Wearing jeans, dirty from a day’s work on the ranch, and a button up shirt that’s loose but not too much so, also somewhat dirty.
>Your trusty Raging Bull revolver is on your hip, where it always is.
>You never leave home without it, and you sleep with it under your pillow at night.
>A pouch on your belt has a speed loader and a few dozen extra .44 Magnum rounds.
>You notice your hat on the ground next to you and pick it up, putting it back on.
>Much better.
>You get up and begin exploring, struggling to keep your balance by this point.
>You figure you’re in some kind of castle, but then again you’re pretty far gone by this point.
“Ain’t in Texas anymore, that’s for sure.”
>You slur.
>You load your gun and cock the hammer after dropping the speed loader a few times.
>Creep through the halls until you reach a cracked door.
>Slowly open it.
>See a silhouette with long flowing hair in front of the full moon.
>You lower your gun.
>Fuck, you couldn’t shoot straight right now anyway.
“Pardon me, but I seem to be a bit lost. I’d be mighty grateful ifin’ you’d tell me just where I am.
>Despite being unable to see most of the being’s body, you expected a human.
>You were wrong.
>Then again, you were pretty hammered.
>A head snaps around.
>”Who art thou and what art thou doing within my chambers?”
“What in tarnation..?”
>You rub your eyes.
>An alcohol induced hallucination?
>”What… art thou? Thou art not a pony, nor are you anything else We have ever seen.”
>You laugh heartily.
“Oh I get it now! I reckon I’m dreamin’! Horses don’t talk! They ain’t smart enough for that!”
>The blue-violet horse looks.. offended.
>And pissed.
>”How DARE thou speaketh to Us in such a manner! We are Princess Luna, Mistress of the Night and co-ruler of Equestria!”
>You keep laughing.
“I get it! Equestria, like the fancy name for horses! Man I oughta stop workin’ so hard if I’m gonna start havin’ these kinds of dreams.”
>”Thou are not dreaming. Tis’ very real.”
>You stumble over and put an arm around the shoulders of the horse.
“Keep on tellin’ yourself that, horsie.”
>Suddenly, a sickness in your gut.
>You vomit on said pony.
>That’s the last thing you remember.
>Wake locked in cold, damp cell.
>No gun, no hat, just a bad hangover.
>You grip your skull as if to will the pain away, but it does no good.
>That horse from earlier approaches the bars.
>”Art thou aware as to why we have imprisoned thou?”
>So it wasn’t a hallucination.
>This shit’s real.
>The hell is it talking like that for?
“Listen, I don’t know why’n the hell you’re talkin’ like that. Now, I ain’t no scholar, but even I know that ‘we’ ain’t used for one person… horse… whatever.”
>”It is tradition for Us to use the Royal ‘We’ when referring to Ourselves. Now answer Our question.”
>That horse is pissed, but you’re safe behind what you assume are iron bars.
“I don’t remember jack shit. I was drunk off my ass last night.”
>Oh it’s MAD.
>”Thou upchucked the contents of thy stomach upon my hooves!”
>Whoops.
“Well, I reckon-!”
>”SILENCE!”
>A powerful wind blows into your face with the word.
>Not helping your hangover.
>”Now, what praytell art thou?”
“Well I suppose I’ll have to humor you then, won’t I? I’m a little somethin’ called a human. We’re the dominant species on planet Earth.”
>This revelation doesn’t faze the horse in front of you.
“Our horses don’t have a mouth on em’ either. They don’t talk at all actually. Just some stupid animals.”
>”We assure you that We are not like that. We are co-ruler of Equestria. Tell Us ‘human’, what brings you to our lands? How didst thou manage to enter Our castle and get past Our guards? Art thou a spy?”
>You decide to take out the pain from your hangover on the horse.
“Yep. I’m a spy from the United States of Gofuckyourself.”
>Oh now it’s REALLY pissed.
>”Perhaps if We leave you here until tomorrow night thou shalt become less of a ‘smartass’.”
>Horse leaves.
>Notice horse had wings and a horn.
‘Somethin’ ain’t right. Horses don’t have none o’ those things unless it’s fairy tales!’
>You notice two guards, one on either side of your cell.
>Both horses, albeit smaller than the blue-violet one from before and a mid-tone gray.
“Well howdy. Suppose you’re my company?”
>No answer.
“Ya’ll ain’t much for conversation, are ya?”
>Time to take inventory.
>A bed, and a chamber pot.
>Fabulous.
>Next night.
>Now sober and free of hangover.
>Superhorse returns.
>”Perhaps now thou art more willing to speak seriously?”
>Now that your head doesn’t hurt like a bitch, sure.
“So ya’ll are in charge huh?”
>”That is correct. We are-!”
“Co-ruler, blah de blah de blah. You said that already. So I’m guessin’ that makes ya’ll a queen?”
>”….No. We are but a princess, as is Our sister.”
“So yer’ tellin’ me this whole land is run by a couple a’ princesses? That’s gotta be the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”
>Want to get back home before voting starts.
>Get to put a Republican back in the White House.
>”Our subjects love us.”
“Now I ain’t got no idea how I got here, but I do know that I ain’t about to be bossed around by some mutant horse!”
>”Mutant-!? Thou art a detestable creature for sure.”
“Well wouldn’t ya’ll be testy ifin’ you’d been locked up?”
>She realizes you have a point, but it’s quite obvious that you’ve crossed enough lines to paint a zebra with.
>Time to try and get yourself out of this mess.
“Now, I understand yer’ prob’ly cross about last night. I was straight hammered.”
>She looks at you confused.
>Obviously she was unfamiliar with the slang.
“Drunk.”
>Nope.
“Intoxicated?”
>There we go.
>”I see…”
“Now I understand ya lockin’ me up while I’m in that state, but I’m one hundred percent sober now. I’m also a bit curious bout’ how I got here. One second I’m drinkin’ myself silly, next I’m here. Well, wherever here is.”
>”You are in Equestria, strange creature. We do belive We have mentioned this before.”
“Right, right. Where exatly is that in terms of distance from Texas?”
>”What is a ‘Texas’?”
>You’re in disbelief.
“Why only the best out of the fifty United Sates of America! I don’t see how ya’ll haven’t heard of Texas!”
>”What are these.. .United States you speak of?”
>You’re in disbelief at the Uber Horse.
>Not only does she not know about Texas, but not even about America?!
“Well then, I have some educatin’ to do. I ain’t a very well-read man myself, but I know enough about history to give you the basics.”
>You go on to tell of your country’s history in an abridged form, being sure to mention Texas as much as you can.
>She seems almost disgusted at some of the actions of your race, particularly the violent tendencies and wars.
>She’s now very uncomfortable with the thought of letting you out.
>You realize that your gun is missing (You’d been too drunk to notice earlier).
“Ifin’ ya don’t mind my askin, where’s my gun?”
>”What is a…gun?”
“Firearm. Shoots projectiles.”
>BANG
>A scream from the other room.
“I recon yer guards got curious.”
>Big horse gallops off.
>Apparently you were right.
“Y’know, I reckon that I could help him.”
>You want freedom.
>This is your chance to get out of this dark, damp, cold cell.
>Big horse returns.
>Locks clack and door opens.
>”Help my subject.”
“Gladly.”
>You go into the other room.
>Stupid horse shot himself in the leg.
>How the hell he managed it without fingers is beyond you.
>Nice sized hole.
>You wince and note that at least the anatomy is close enough to horses where you come from you can do something.
“Ah’ll need bandages, cotton balls, antiseptic, and a pair of tweezers.”
>One of the other guards turns and leaves to get the items.
“How the hell’d you even fire my gun anyway? Ya’ll don’t have no fingers!”
>The question was rhetorical, but the horse tries to answer anyway.
>All he manages is a pained grunt as he grits his teeth.
>The fact he’s not screaming impresses you.
>Other horse returns with supplies.
>After sterilizing hands and tweezers, you carefully grasp the bullet.
“Now this is gonna hurt. A lot.”
>You begin removing the bullet, but the horse doesn’t flinch or scream.
>Well trained it seems.
>You finish and quickly place the cotton in the wound before bandaging it up.
“Ifin’ you can, stay offa’ it. Change them bandages every few hours or so until the bleedin’ stops.”
>Large horse approaches you.
>”We thank you for helping Our subject. Perhaps We have misjudged you.”
“That’s mighty kind of-!”
>”When day breaks you shall meet with Our sister as well.”
“Now hold on there. I don’t know bout’ ya’ll, but I need ta’ sleep!”
>”Thou will have to cope with the circumstances.”
>Big horse leaves.
>Did she just tell you off?
>You sigh.
>Need a way to pass the time.
>Suddenly, an idea hits you.
“Any of you got a deck of cards?”
>To your pleasant surprise, one of the guards produces a pack.
>There were six of you total.
>Perfect.
“Now gentlemen, how bout’ I show ya’ll how to play some Texas Hold Em’?”
>They’re curious.
>Good.
>Beginners who are curious are the ones who push the most limits.
>Losers.
“Okay then, no chips so we’ll be doing this old fashioned with real money! Let’s see it.”
>You pull out the bills from your wallet and they pull out some gold coins.
>Well, this won’t work.
“Okay, so since our currencies aren’t exactly interchangeable, we have to go with things instead.”
>Guards reluctantly remove their armor.
>It’s gold and onyx, depending on the guard.
>You take your hat and gun, unloading the latter.
>Wallet, real leather (Best not to let them know that), coins (They might have some value), keys (once again, might have value), and belt buckle, a big Texas flag.
>You’re loyal to your home state.
>A quick explanation of the relatively simple rules and it begins.
>You shuffle the deck and deal.
“Place your bets, gentlemen.”
>Various armor plates clang in the middle and you toss in your belt buckle and a handful of nickels.
>You burn the first card.
>You don’t think they’d be experienced enough to cheat, but that’s how the rules go.
>The Flop.
>Things are looking good for you, but you don’t show it.
>These guards on the other hand…
>Despite being expressionless when you first saw them, they have HORRIBLE poker faces when it comes to the game itself.
>One of the guards looking rather confident adds in another plate of armor.
>Others check.
>You burn the next card before the Turn
>A couple hopeful expressions.
>You were still in control however.
>A couple of checks, a couple of calls, but the cocky guard raised two more plates.
>In goes your gun.
>Finally came the River.
>That cocky guard got that smug look wiped off his face when you won that hand.
>The games continued until you’d finally beat everyone out.
>Big horse returns.
>You’ve managed to equip yourself with what plates you could plus your classic attire.
>She looks to the guards and then you and then back, and then again to you.
>”What art the meaning of this?!”
“We played a little Texas Hold Em’. Didn’t have the same money so we went with collateral gambling instead.”
>She frowns, obviously angered at the guards.
>”What art thou thinking, gambling on the job?! There shall be severe reprocussions! As for you, We are prepared for you to meet Our Sister.”
>You remove your ill fitted golden armor and let it clang on the ground before adjusting your hat and loading your .44 Raging Bull revolver.
“Lead the way.”
>The two of you leave a group of ashamed guards behind.
GUESS WHO”S BACK BABY!
I RISE LIKE A LITERARY PHEONIX FROM THE ASHES!
EVEN THE LAST PORTION OF THIS CHAPTER VANISHING CAN”T KEEP ME DOWN!
Tex-Eques begins now.
I begin my glorious return.
Not 3000 words but at 2150 close enough.
This has been in the making for a week now.
I’m back assholes, get used to it.

create a new version of this paste RAW Paste Data

>You’re Anonymous, but all your friends call you Anon.
>Farmhand? You know it.
>Quickdraw? Best this side of Austin.
>Texan? Hell yes.
>However, tonight is the last night you’re going to hang up your hat on planet Earth.
>Well, that was a figure of speech.
>Only time you took it off was to wipe the sweat off your brow after a long day on the farm or when you sleep.
>However, you weren’t sleeping tonight until you got totally hammered.
>Three six packs in a cooler next to you, ice cold.
>You’d been working all week and you were ready to kick back.
>Crack open the first can of Budweiser.
>Turn on TV to something random that you can get into.
>Take first drink.
>An hour later.
>Hammered.
>About to start last drink when TV suddenly changes to pastel horses.
>You shrug, too drunk to care, and down half the can.
>You black out.

>You wake up.
>It’s dark out.
>That’s normal.
>Moon is full.
>You see this through of a window.
>A stone window.
“What in tarnation..?”
>You manage, drunker than a sailor.
>Wearing jeans, dirty from a day’s work on the ranch, and a button up shirt that’s loose but not too much so, also somewhat dirty.
>Your trusty Raging Bull revolver is on your hip, where it always is.
>You never leave home without it, and you sleep with it under your pillow at night.
>A pouch on your belt has a speed loader and a few dozen extra .44 Magnum rounds.
>You notice your hat on the ground next to you and pick it up, putting it back on.
>Much better.
>You get up and begin exploring, struggling to keep your balance by this point.
>You figure you’re in some kind of castle, but then again you’re pretty far gone by this point.
“Ain’t in Texas anymore, that’s for sure.”
>You slur.
>You load your gun and cock the hammer after dropping the speed loader a few times.
>Creep through the halls until you reach a cracked door.
>Slowly open it.
>See a silhouette with long flowing hair in front of the full moon.
>You lower your gun.
>Fuck, you couldn’t shoot straight right now anyway.
“Pardon me, but I seem to be a bit lost. I’d be mighty grateful ifin’ you’d tell me just where I am.
>Despite being unable to see most of the being’s body, you expected a human.
>You were wrong.
>Then again, you were pretty hammered.
>A head snaps around.
>”Who art thou and what art thou doing within my chambers?”
“What in tarnation..?”
>You rub your eyes.
>An alcohol induced hallucination?
>”What… art thou? Thou art not a pony, nor are you anything else We have ever seen.”
>You laugh heartily.
“Oh I get it now! I reckon I’m dreamin’! Horses don’t talk! They ain’t smart enough for that!”
>The blue-violet horse looks.. offended.
>And pissed.
>”How DARE thou speaketh to Us in such a manner! We are Princess Luna, Mistress of the Night and co-ruler of Equestria!”
>You keep laughing.

“I get it! Equestria, like the fancy name for horses! Man I oughta stop workin’ so hard if I’m gonna start havin’ these kinds of dreams.”

>”Thou are not dreaming. Tis’ very real.”
>You stumble over and put an arm around the shoulders of the horse.

“Keep on tellin’ yourself that, horsie.”

>Suddenly, a sickness in your gut.
>You vomit on said pony.
>That’s the last thing you remember.

>Wake locked in cold, damp cell.
>No gun, no hat, just a bad hangover.
>You grip your skull as if to will the pain away, but it does no good.
 >That horse from earlier approaches the bars.
>”Art thou aware as to why we have imprisoned thou?”
>So it wasn’t a hallucination.
>This shit’s real.
>The hell is it talking like that for?

“Listen, I don’t know why’n the hell you’re talkin’ like that. Now, I ain’t no scholar, but even I know that ‘we’ ain’t used for one person… horse… whatever.”

>”It is tradition for Us to use the Royal ‘We’ when referring to Ourselves. Now answer Our question.”
>That horse is pissed, but you’re safe behind what you assume are iron bars.

“I don’t remember jack shit. I was drunk off my ass last night.”

>Oh it’s MAD.
>”Thou upchucked the contents of thy stomach upon my hooves!”
>Whoops.

“Well, I reckon-!”

>”SILENCE!”
>A powerful wind blows into your face with the word.
>Not helping your hangover.
>”Now, what praytell art thou?”

“Well I suppose I’ll have to humor you then, won’t I? I’m a little somethin’ called a human. We’re the dominant species on planet Earth.”

>This revelation doesn’t faze the horse in front of you.

“Our horses don’t have a mouth on em’ either. They don’t talk at all actually. Just some stupid animals.”

>”We assure you that We are not like that. We are co-ruler of Equestria. Tell Us ‘human’, what brings you to our lands? How didst thou manage to enter Our castle and get past Our guards? Art thou a spy?”
>You decide to take out the pain from your hangover on the horse.

“Yep. I’m a spy from the United States of Gofuckyourself.”

>Oh now it’s REALLY pissed.
>”Perhaps if We leave you here until tomorrow night thou shalt become less of a ‘smartass’.”
>Horse leaves.
>Notice horse had wings and a horn.

‘Somethin’ ain’t right. Horses don’t have none o’ those things unless it’s fairy tales!’

>You notice two guards, one on either side of your cell.
>Both horses, albeit smaller than the blue-violet one from before and a mid-tone gray.

“Well howdy. Suppose you’re my company?”

>No answer.

“Ya’ll ain’t much for conversation, are ya?”

>Time to take inventory.
>A bed, and a chamber pot.
>Fabulous.

>Next night.
>Now sober and free of hangover.
>Superhorse returns.
>”Perhaps now thou art more willing to speak seriously?”
>Now that your head doesn’t hurt like a bitch, sure.

“So ya’ll are in charge huh?”

>”That is correct. We are-!”

“Co-ruler, blah de blah de blah. You said that already. So I’m guessin’ that makes ya’ll a queen?”

>”….No. We are but a princess, as is Our sister.”

“So yer’ tellin’ me this whole land is run by a couple a’ princesses? That’s gotta be the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”

>Want to get back home before voting starts.
>Get to put a Republican back in the White House.
>”Our subjects love us.”

“Now I ain’t got no idea how I got here, but I do know that I ain’t about to be bossed around by some mutant horse!”

>”Mutant-!? Thou art a detestable creature for sure.”

“Well wouldn’t ya’ll be testy ifin’ you’d been locked up?”

>She realizes you have a point, but it’s quite obvious that you’ve crossed enough lines to paint a zebra with.
>Time to try and get yourself out of this mess.

“Now, I understand yer’ prob’ly cross about last night. I was straight hammered.”

>She looks at you confused.
>Obviously she was unfamiliar with the slang.

“Drunk.”

>Nope.

“Intoxicated?”

>There we go.
>”I see…”

“Now I understand ya lockin’ me up while I’m in that state, but I’m one hundred percent sober now. I’m also a bit curious bout’ how I got here. One second I’m drinkin’ myself silly, next I’m here. Well, wherever here is.”

>”You are in Equestria, strange creature. We do belive We have mentioned this before.”

“Right, right. Where exatly is that in terms of distance from Texas?”

>”What is a ‘Texas’?”
>You’re in disbelief.

“Why only the best out of the fifty United Sates of America! I don’t see how ya’ll haven’t heard of Texas!”

>”What are these.. .United States you speak of?”
>You’re in disbelief at the Uber Horse.
>Not only does she not know about Texas, but not even about America?!

“Well then, I have some educatin’ to do. I ain’t a very well-read man myself, but I know enough about history to give you the basics.”

>You go on to tell of your country’s history in an abridged form, being sure to mention Texas as much as you can.
>She seems almost disgusted at some of the actions of your race, particularly the violent tendencies and wars.
>She’s now very uncomfortable with the thought of letting you out.
>You realize that your gun is missing (You’d been too drunk to notice earlier).

“Ifin’ ya don’t mind my askin, where’s my gun?”

>”What is a…gun?”

“Firearm. Shoots projectiles.”

>BANG
>A scream from the other room.

“I recon yer guards got curious.”

>Big horse gallops off.
>Apparently you were right.

“Y’know, I reckon that I could help him.”

>You want freedom.
>This is your chance to get out of this dark, damp, cold cell.
>Big horse returns.
>Locks clack and door opens.
>”Help my subject.”

“Gladly.”

>You go into the other room.
>Stupid horse shot himself in the leg.
>How the hell he managed it without fingers is beyond you.
>Nice sized hole.
>You wince and note that at least the anatomy is close enough to horses where you come from you can do something.

“Ah’ll need bandages, cotton balls, antiseptic, and a pair of tweezers.”

>One of the other guards turns and leaves to get the items.

“How the hell’d you even fire my gun anyway? Ya’ll don’t have no fingers!”

>The question was rhetorical, but the horse tries to answer anyway.
>All he manages is a pained grunt as he grits his teeth.
>The fact he’s not screaming impresses you.
>Other horse returns with supplies.
>After sterilizing hands and tweezers, you carefully grasp the bullet.

“Now this is gonna hurt. A lot.”

>You begin removing the bullet, but the horse doesn’t flinch or scream.
>Well trained it seems.
>You finish and quickly place the cotton in the wound before bandaging it up.

“Ifin’ you can, stay offa’ it. Change them bandages every few hours or so until the bleedin’ stops.”

>Large horse approaches you.
>”We thank you for helping Our subject. Perhaps We have misjudged you.”

“That’s mighty kind of-!”

>”When day breaks you shall meet with Our sister as well.”

“Now hold on there. I don’t know bout’ ya’ll, but I need ta’ sleep!”

>”Thou will have to cope with the circumstances.”
>Big horse leaves.
>Did she just tell you off?
>You sigh.
>Need a way to pass the time.
>Suddenly, an idea hits you.

“Any of you got a deck of cards?”

>To your pleasant surprise, one of the guards produces a pack.
>There were six of you total.
>Perfect.

“Now gentlemen, how bout’ I show ya’ll how to play some Texas Hold Em’?”

>They’re curious.
>Good.
>Beginners who are curious are the ones who push the most limits.
>Losers.

“Okay then, no chips so we’ll be doing this old fashioned with real money! Let’s see it.”

>You pull out the bills from your wallet and they pull out some gold coins.
>Well, this won’t work.

“Okay, so since our currencies aren’t exactly interchangeable, we have to go with things instead.”

>Guards reluctantly remove their armor.
>It’s gold and onyx, depending on the guard.
>You take your hat and gun, unloading the latter.
>Wallet, real leather (Best not to let them know that), coins (They might have some value), keys (once again, might have value), and belt buckle, a big Texas flag.
>You’re loyal to your home state.
>A quick explanation of the relatively simple rules and it begins.
>You shuffle the deck and deal.

“Place your bets, gentlemen.”

>Various armor plates clang in the middle and you toss in your belt buckle and a handful of nickels.
>You burn the first card.
>You don’t think they’d be experienced enough to cheat, but that’s how the rules go.
>The Flop.
>Things are looking good for you, but you don’t show it.
>These guards on the other hand…
>Despite being expressionless when you first saw them, they have HORRIBLE poker faces when it comes to the game itself.
>One of the guards looking rather confident adds in another plate of armor.
>Others check.
>You burn the next card before the Turn
>A couple hopeful expressions.
>You were still in control however.
>A couple of checks, a couple of calls, but the cocky guard raised two more plates.
>In goes your gun.
>Finally came the River.
>That cocky guard got that smug look wiped off his face when you won that hand.
>The games continued until you’d finally beat everyone out.
>Big horse returns.
>You’ve managed to equip yourself with what plates you could plus your classic attire.
>She looks to the guards and then you and then back, and then again to you.
>”What art the meaning of this?!”

“We played a little Texas Hold Em’. Didn’t have the same money so we went with collateral gambling instead.”

>She frowns, obviously angered at the guards.
>”What art thou thinking, gambling on the job?! There shall be severe reprocussions! As for you, We are prepared for you to meet Our Sister.”
>You remove your ill fitted golden armor and let it clang on the ground before adjusting your hat and loading your .44 Raging Bull revolver.

“Lead the way.”

>The two of you leave a group of ashamed guards behind.

GUESS WHO”S BACK BABY!

I RISE LIKE A LITERARY PHEONIX FROM THE ASHES! 

EVEN THE LAST PORTION OF THIS CHAPTER VANISHING CAN”T KEEP ME DOWN!

Tex-Eques begins now.

I begin my glorious return.

Not 3000 words but at 2150 close enough.

This has been in the making for a week now.

I’m back assholes, get used to it.

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