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Hoverboard Anon part 1

By: WiseWisp on Jan 27th, 2013 | syntax: None | size: 25.46 KB | hits: 134 | expires: Never

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>Day 87 in Equestria
>You wake up to the sound of your alarm clock beeping on your night stand. With a quick swing of your arm, you turn the damn thing off.
>You stir and stretch, trying to shake the sleep out of your body but, just when you’re about to stand up and set foot out of your bed, you feel like 200G comprised of pure laziness are forcing you to lay down. You close your eyes…
>…when you wake up for the second time, it’s two o’clock in the afternoon…yeah, you just wasted the entire morning staying in bed… again. Damn… why doing nothing feels so good?
>You sigh and wake up, this time for good. You pick a pair of shorts and a t-shirt from the pile of clothing that covers the floor of your room. You dress and walk down to your little kitchen, crouching a bit under the door’s frame to pass.
>Some of your friendly p0ny pals reformed the whole house two weeks ago so it could fit you, but still, it feels like you’re living in a midget’s lair.
>You grab a thermo full of coffee and down it faster than a douchebag can say swag. Then you open the fridge. For a slight moment, you look at those oranges you bought on the market the other day, but, hell, healthy food can wait. So you finish your short breakfast with a piece of frozen chocolate.
>Nothing gave you more energy by the start of the day than some coffee and sugar. You weren’t really hungry at those hours, but perhaps you would grab something later, when you were taking a stroll through the streets.
>Satisfied, you travel back to your room and begin to suit up for routine. You discard the t-shirt you grabbed earlier and pick a brighter one, metallic blue, displaying a flaming yellow skull.
>Then a pair of blue jeans.
>Then your old, dusty, but always reliable snickers.
>Then your green-colored leather jacket and, finally, but not less important, your bright orange goggles.
>You turn to the mirror in your room, tidy your hair just a bit and smile to the you on the mirror. Damn… you look fucking great. What a pity that Rarity never understood your tastes in clothing.
>“Oh, Anonymous,” you remember her saying; “you humans clearly have no sense of fashion”. You tried to explain her many times that, back on Earth, fashion, like many other things, had become a thing of the past. Damn, back on your homeworld, everybody dressed the way they wanted or… to put it better, ashamed themselves the way they wanted. Eventually you gave up on the fashionista and decided to simply ignore her remarks on your style.
>You shake those thoughts out of your head. P0nyville’s in the past… you’re now on a new place, where you think you’ll fit better in this world of colorful talking horses.
>You grab your bag and your apartment keys, open the door and step out in the darkened and smelly streets of Low Canterlot’s slums.
>One-storey stone houses, co-existing with concrete and steel buildings, all crowded against one another in a mixture of cheap architecture where aesthetics have long lost any meaning. Wooden shacks and the ruins of some majestic mansions, from the times when some rich families populated the area, dot the cityscape that expands on the lower reaches of the mountain where Equestria's capital sits, separated by several roads and secondary causeways from the higher, classier and much prettier zones of the city, like an ugly stump kept away from the eyes of Equestrian Nobility.
>Dozens, if not hundreds of p0nies, pegasus and earth p0nies mainly, wander around the streets, taking care of their various businesses, some of them barely legal, as you well know. A few vendors here and there try to attract the attention of the crowd by calling out the virtues of their products, even if those are the most blatant of lies.
>Though now it’s only ten past two pm, several bars and taverns have opened their doors and those p0nies with late-night or morning work shifts are already drinking themselves to death on those establishments. You spot a young pegasus stumbling out of one bar only to vomit profusely on one of the drains that litter the sides of the streets. Nop0ny on the streets pays him any attention and you sigh with content.
>It’s only been three weeks here and you are already in love with these good ol’ slums.
>Well, the p0nies of “Classy” Canterlot called these slums, but to you, they aren’t that bad. Hell, some of the houses around here are way cleaner than the residential block you lived in back on Earth. There are no guards patrolling the place looking for burglars, urban gangs or lonesome trouble makers. Almost all p0nies around here have jobs, not fancy and well-paid jobs like the residents of the better areas of the city, but jobs nevertheless. That’s more than half of your home planet population could say when you disappeared from its surface.
>Now that you think about it for the nth time, you never quite got to know how you became stranded on Equestria. Nor the Mane Six, as you called them, or the Princesses could offer you any clue about that either. Was it magic? Or was it transdimensional teleportation, just like in those old sci-fi videostories?
>Anyways, a few days after your arrival, you were completely out of the fucks to give and had decided to run along with this new situation.
>A voice suddenly interrupts the flux of your thoughts.
>“Hey there, Anon!”
>You look to the right and, just in front of one pub’s door, stands one of your dudes from these areas. A brown-coated earth p0ny called Earthquake, aka the Friendly Neighbor, the Awesome Bartender, the Drinking Bro and so on. Just above his white maned head, a sign proudly displays the name of the place he owns: “Quake O’Neigher Old Ale House”
>You still find incredibly amusing that there is an equivalent of an Irish pub in Equestria. Even Earthquake’s cutiemark even looks more or less like a pint of Guinness. But you don’t mind, as long as that p0ny keeps serving that excellent beer and those awesome cocktails of his invention.
>You close the door of your apartment and approach your pal, smile in your face and your fist stretched out.
“Wassup, Quake?”
>The two of your brohoof and he returns the smile.
>”Nothing, really. Just another regular day, me tending to my pub and you sleeping your ass off…as always”
“You always say that as if there’s anything wrong about me sleeping my ass off”
>”Just kidding, Anon,” he replies,” So, how’s my favorite monkey patron doing?”
“Quake, I’m your only monkey patron”.
>You never mind he calling you monkey anymore. After all, you really must look like one in the eyes of these p0nies.
>”Just because you’re the only one doesn’t mean you’re not my favorite, does it?,” he laughs. “Anyways, I wanted to know if you’ll be coming later”
“You bet I’ll come!”
>”Good, ‘cause the others are dying to see you tonight….Oh, and one other thing, Anon?”
“Yep, what is it?”
>You have a feeling you know where this is going.
>”I know you are still running on the allowance provided by the Princesses…”
>Yes, this is one of the good things about being the only human in this world. Some complex and really deep shit about endangered species protection and…voilà! You have now bits being delivered every month to your doorstep!
>”…and I know you are having no problems living here, but still…”
“Just get on with it, Quake”
>”…haven’t you at least reconsidered that offer I gave you?”
“What? That one about working in the pub?”
> He nods and you sigh. You are really getting tired of Quake’s work offers.
>”Come on, Anon! The boys here love you! And you have skill when it comes to serve booze!”
>He was right about that. Apart of having worked in a car factory, one of the few jobs you had managed to keep for a while, back on Earth, had been working as a waiter at a Disco Café in Megalopolis Central District, where you had picked up a few tricks about drunktards management, cocktail preparation and accurate shooting.
>Ok, maybe that last ability isn’t of any real use here in Equestria, where no cybernetic drug-addicted gangers are trying to rob your cash register every so often. But, anyways… Quake is still talking…
>”And I bet the mares around here would love to see you as part of the staff, don’t you think?”
>You smile at that last comment. You’ve been getting the attention of many of the mares, that’s true, and later you’ve spotted some of them looking at you with half lidded eyes or stealing glimpses at your ass. Where the mares of High Canterlot seem to see nothing but a shaved and ugly ape, the more open-minded mares of Low Canterlot look at you as something else… as an exotic creature… as an interesting and somehow exciting creature.
>Now that you think of it, you shouldn’t have bragged about human sexual stamina when you got drunk for first time here. Now many females are willing to know first-ha…hoof, if your stories are true.
>There was even that minty green unicorn one night who kept visual contact with you for hours, all the time biting her lower lip and eyeing you with mute approval and desire.
>Not that you felt uncomfortable about the whole thing.
>At least not as uncomfortable as you’d have felt during your first weeks in Equestria, but still, although later you’ve been seriously considering trying to get into it, the thought of getting laid with a p0ny still feels a bit wrong.
>”So, what do you say, Anon? Won’t you at least reconsider it?”
>You are going to refuse, once more. You haven’t worked for more than eight years now, and running on the Royal Allowance for Endangered Species Protection seems like a good way of continuing the lifestyle you led on Earth.
>But you can also read something in Quakes eyes. He is almost silently pleading with them, begging you to accept and work with him. And you have to admit that, after so many times, his arguments are really starting to convince you.
>Subconsciously you are beginning to think that maybe this working thing is not a bad idea after all.
>So, instead of giving your pal a big and clear “nope”, you decide to play along for a while.
“Uh…I’ve been thinking of it, Quake…”
>He eyes you intently, hope reflecting in his big dark pupils.
“…but I haven’t made up my mind yet”
>He frowns and looks saddened.
“I need more time to think about this…”
>Then, on a rush, you say something you know you may regret later. Right now, though, you can’t help it, not wanting to disappoint Quake one more time.
“Look, just give me ‘til tonight. By then, I’ll give you a definite answer”
>He nods solemnly.
“Deal?”
>”Deal”
>You brohoof once more before making a 180s turn and beginning to walk up the main street.
“Ok, Quake. Guess I’ll see you tonight, then. I’m going for a roll on the upper zones”
>”Watch out for those assholes, Anon! Some of them may get real nasty on you”
“Those pricks should be the ones watching out, Quake!” you laugh as you walk away.
>As you make your way amidst the crowd of p0nies towards the causeways that lead to High Canterlot, you are thinking.
>You don’t know why exactly, but you’re having this weird feeling that something big is going to happen today. Maybe you are going to accept that work offer after all. Maybe you will finally lose your p0ny virginity. Maybe…you don’t know, the possibilities are almost endless!
>So lost are you in your train of thought, that you don’t notice that you’re approaching the causeway checkpoint until you’re a several dozen meters away from it.
>A wide and fortified gate built of solid marble, veins of gold and silver running across its ivory surface, it looks more like a piece of art, brought from a museum exhibition, than a regular checkpoint. On Earth you would see a fat cop sipping coffee behind a bullet-proof glassed cabin and some automated turrets. On Equestria, three guards, clad in golden armor, stand stoically side by side under the open archway, blocking the pass.
>Every minute or so a cart transporting goods to High Canterlot Market Square appears in front of the gate. Someone speaks with the guards, then they nod and make way for the cart to pass. Pure and mechanical routine. You smile, already knowing what to do to pass through the checkpoint.
>You could ask them politely so they let you through. Since you’re somehow important and special (the one and only Human thing, you know…), they would probably allow you to continue your way without much of a problem. But that would be too easy. And you prefer to do it the other way.
>You unzip your bag and extract your most prized possession from it.
>Your hover-board.
>The long, sleek and stylized metallic object plummets down before its fall comes to a complete stop, just an inch from hitting the ground. Then, with a hiss, the air compressors shift to full power and the board pushes itself upwards until it’s staying aloft.
>Several p0nies, the few around who have never seen you in action with your board, gasp as they watch the floating object. The others simply stare at you, waiting for you to do one of your tricks. Some of the more experienced are already making their way towards the gate to get a better view of the coming spectacle.
>You raise your left leg and, seconds later, a magnetic band locks around your left foot, keeping it secure against the board surface. You then face the gate and the distant group of guards. You set your right foot on the ground.
>You take a deep breath, put on your goggles and, with a powerful swing of your leg, you propel yourself towards the checkpoint.
Music: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=39ZokhTyHZQ
>With no ground friction and with the help of your right leg, you quickly find yourself closing distances with the guards, who have just taken notice of your fast approach. The three of them, as usual, neigh, snort and shout at you at the top of their voices, all the time demanding you to stop.
>Their words lose all meaning because, right now, the only thing you can hear is the air sizzling around your body and the low rumble of your board engines as they start to harness energy for your next move.
>One of the guards, an impatient rookie unicorn, kicks his legs about and goes on a full speed run against you, his head lowered and teeth clenched, charging like an enraged bull.
>You were more or less expecting that.
>When the rookie is about seconds from colliding with you, you slip your right foot and press one of the switches on the tail of your board. The harnessed energy on the air compressors is suddenly released and you are flung into the air, just at the right height to jump and dodge the oncoming guard, almost caressing the crest on his helmet with your board as you leave him in the dust, confused and blinking in awe.
>The crowd that has reunited near the checkpoint laughs and cheers while you continue your approach.
>The other two guards watch you intently as you begin covering the last few meters until the checkpoint archway. One of them, a pegasus, takes off and hovers to block the upper part of the access, while his unicorn companion produces a spear that is immediately aimed at you.
>A spear! Holy shit, that’s new! Well, something like this had to happen sooner or later. Even if the princesses are utmost forgiving about your innocent shenanigans, their royal guards are starting to get really pissed off.
>Too much time with no one standing up to them, you guess. Someone like you, who disrespects law in a natural and almost casual manner, even if your disrespect doesn’t include murder, arson, rape and other major offences, must be something new to them.
>Well, these p0nies are going to learn the hard way that some rules are meant to be broken.
>The board engine is starting to power up again and you know what to do about that. Today you’ll show these p0nies a new trick, one that saved your ass many times back on Earth, especially on those occasions when you had found yourself unarmed in front of a laser gun or a plasma blade.
>These guards only have a wooden, iron-tipped spear. This should be a piece of cake.
>When you’re close enough, the guard thrusts his spear at you tentatively, not really wanting to hurt you and just trying to keep you away.
>You turn abruptly to one side and let the tip of the spear pass at your side, few centimeters from piercing your ribs. Both the guards and the crowd gasp at your recklessness, but before anyone, nor the guard nor the other p0nies can react, you raise your board and come to a complete stop in front of the unicorn, your board’s nose mere inches from his face.
>Then, you press another switch on your board and a dense wave of high-pressurized air, compressed by the board engine into an invisible but tight cushion, is released.
>As you are flung backwards by the sudden impulse the poor guard is knocked down and ends up sliding a few meters on his flank until his back meets one of the walls of the archway. Then he drops his spear and falls to the ground, groaning while trying to compose himself. You can almost see his eyes rolling and picture birds tweeting and orbiting around his head.
>You don’t lose any time and ruthlessly exploit the sudden gap in the checkpoint defenses by stopping and changing your advance direction with your right leg. The pegasus guard and the unicorn can only stare, dumbfounded and still too surprised from your actions, as you pass through the checkpoint, a devilish smile twisting your lips.
>You are now on the causeway and the cheers of the crowd are fading at your back. Up the mountain slope you ascend, dodging carts loaded with goods and groups of individual travelers. A few hundreds of meters above your head, rests your destination.
>A city, almost entirely composed of spiraling marble towers and graceful buildings. Roofs and domes made of polished gold sprout everywhere. The bright reflections of the sun upon dozens of stained glass windows make the whole place look like something directly taken out from a fairy tale.
>High Canterlot.
>And here you are.
>You are now standing on a road that shines under your board as if, every day, a veritable army of cleaners polished the rocks that comprise the pavement. P0nies wrapped in fancy clothing, most of them unicorns, wander around, many of them not bothering to look at you…or even bothering to look at anything at all as they walk with their eyes closed and their faces turned upwards. Damn, this looks like a bad case of collective torticollis…
>Those few who notice you are already either scowling or looking at you with mixed fear and disgust. You have made yourself a name in these parts of the city.
>What a pity these pricks don’t understand your way of expressing yourself. Anyways, that isn’t going to keep you from paying them a visit from time to time.
>With a grin in your face, you swing your right leg and soon you are traveling down Canterlot streets at a speed that would make Captain Falcon proud.
Music: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rMbATaj7Il8
>You turn at every corner in a sharp angle, almost staying parallel to the ground for a second before resuming your solitary race. All the time you hear the yells of the area residents, who are already voicing their displeasure. You catch up some words as you continue your advance:
>”Celestia damn it!”
> “Stupid monkey!”
>”Not again!”
>”Watch out, you brutish ape!” says an elderly looking unicorn in a tuxedo as you pass by his side.
>You laugh their affected name calling off and then, much to the dismay of the p0nies, you begin to accelerate, now knowing where exactly to go.
>What place else is better for practicing your tricks than Canterlot Park?
>You turn to the right and then…dammit! You took the wrong direction! Now you’ll have to take a long detour or, worse, stop and lose all this sweet turbo speed!
>Well, no big deal because the solution to your unexpected problem is at hand. When you see the lamppost that is rapidly approaching as you travel down the road, you know you have to do it.
>You outstretch your arm and firmly grab the lamppost with your left hand. You let out a pained grunt when you let the irregular surface of the post slip under your palm, so fast you are going that the quick touch makes you feel as if your hand is burning.
>Luckily it doesn’t last for long and, in a heartbeat, you turn around in a full 180s, using the lamppost as your fulcrum. Now you’re in the right direction and the p0nies that have seen you once now cower as they see you closing in for a second time.
>The screams begin anew as you pass and, again, you are pleased to see that the p0nies of High Canterlot curse like any slum p0ny when they’re fairly mad.
>You laugh wildly again, completely out of fucks to give, leaving behind you a trail of rustled jimmies.
>Life’s good.
>In fact, it’s going so good for you that you barely notice the golden chariot that is crossing the street until you’re about to collide with it. For a moment, you can see the terror in the eyes of the guards that are pulling the vehicle and the shock printed on the face of the only passenger of the chariot, a sissy-looking pink unicorn.
>You make a sharp turn to the left and manage to avoid the vehicle. Unfortunately, the wild turning has left you with no stability and you are now zigzagging down the street, almost out of control.
>You are forced to stop before you crash against a wall or fall from your board.
>Your board’s nose ends up inches from a mare’s face. You expect to get an earful any time soon, but the mare and her friends, who were until then having tea in some fancy cafe, are really busy looking at something at your back, their mouths agape and their eyes widened in shock.
>Just as everybody else on the street.
>You follow the general direction of those stares and you turn pale the moment you see it.
>You just provoked a traffic accident.
>The golden chariot is now completely tilted to the right, its left wheel spinning in the air and one of its sides ruined and twisted after having bruised against the road. Seriously, couldn’t they think of any better metal than gold when they were making that chariot? The guards who were pulling the vehicle are now on the pavement, groaning in pain and annoyance.
>Luckily there seems to be no one injured. Maybe this wasn’t so bad. But then you see the passenger, the pink unicorn p0ny, lying on the ground a few meters from the open chariot, not moving at all. Oh, shit…
>Yeah, you may have fucked up, really bad this time.
>But then, the pink p0ny begins to move and you let loose a sigh of relief. Nop0ny is dead, good, but, as if that was some sort of sign, a maddened uproar rises around you.
>You‘re now surrounded by dozens of fucking angry-looking p0nies who are cursing you, your name, your family and almost everything that has something to do with you in very different manners. Damn, these classy pricks know how to do verbal bulling of their own.
>You consider leaving the place in a rush, not even looking back. Some of the stallions look ready to tackle you and stomp you to death. But you’re not an irresponsible man…well, at least not too much. Mum raised you well.
>You goofed up and the least you can do to make up is check on the pink p0ny and see if she’s all right. You could also check on the guards, but they surely aren’t going to be happy about this whole thing.
>And so, before anyone can do a thing, you make your move, ignoring the glares that you’re receiving from everybody around and advance to help out the poor passenger. Some of the p0nies step forth and try to block your path, but you move around them with ease or jump using your air compressors. That’s when you hear someone crying out loud:
>”Stay away from the princess you monster!”
>What princess? What the hell are these guys talking about?
>When you are fairly close, the pink p0ny manages to stand up and shakes the now disheveled roseate and white curls of her mane to reveal her tired face and the long horn that protrudes from her forehead, above two beautiful and expressive eyes as pink as her fur and mane.
>Even though you’re still adapting to the idea of finding beauty and sex appeal in things that aren’t human, you have to say that this is by far the sexiest unicorn mare you’ve ever seen.
>But then you feel your heart sunk in your chest when she shakes her body and two little pink wings that you hadn’t noticed before flap and stretch.
>This is no unicorn.
>You realize that she’s almost as big as a full-grown stallion. Also, her horn is slightly longer than the unicorn’s average. You freeze on your tracks when you also take notice of the golden necklace that hangs from her neck and the shoes that adorn her hooves.
>Afar from her and half a meter away from you, rests a golden crown that must have been sitting on her head before you made the chariot tip over.
>A word comes to your mind, a word that princess Celestia herself taught you those days you were learning to adjust to your new life in Equestria …an Alicorn? Is this mare really another p0ny princess?
>Did you just mess up with royalty here?
>All your thoughts are interrupted as the two guards, now fully recovered from the accident, trip you over and send you to the ground, your left foot still tied up to the hover-board.
>You try to defend yourself, even with your lower leg bent in an uncomfortable angle, but a hoof pounds your head from behind. And then another punches your back, then another, and another, and another… and your world quickly becomes a blur of multicolored coats and hooves.

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>Day 87 in Equestria
>You wake up to the sound of your alarm clock beeping on your night stand. With a quick swing of your arm, you turn the damn thing off. 
>You stir and stretch, trying to shake the sleep out of your body but, just when you’re about to stand up and set foot out of your bed, you feel like 200G comprised of pure laziness are forcing you to lay down. You close your eyes…
>…when you wake up for the second time, it’s two o’clock in the afternoon…yeah, you just wasted the entire morning staying in bed… again. Damn… why doing nothing feels so good?
>You sigh and wake up, this time for good. You pick a pair of shorts and a t-shirt from the pile of clothing that covers the floor of your room. You dress and walk down to your little kitchen, crouching a bit under the door’s frame to pass.
>Some of your friendly p0ny pals reformed the whole house two weeks ago so it could fit you, but still, it feels like you’re living in a midget’s lair.

>You grab a thermo full of coffee and down it faster than a douchebag can say swag.  Then you open the fridge. For a slight moment, you look at those oranges you bought on the market the other day, but, hell, healthy food can wait. So you finish your short breakfast with a piece of frozen chocolate. 
>Nothing gave you more energy by the start of the day than some coffee and sugar. You weren’t really hungry at those hours, but perhaps you would grab something later, when you were taking a stroll through the streets. 
>Satisfied, you travel back to your room and begin to suit up for routine. You discard the t-shirt you grabbed earlier and pick a brighter one, metallic blue, displaying a flaming yellow skull. 
>Then a pair of blue jeans. 
>Then your old, dusty, but always reliable snickers. 
>Then your green-colored leather jacket and, finally, but not less important, your bright orange goggles. 
>You turn to the mirror in your room, tidy your hair just a bit and smile to the you on the mirror. Damn… you look fucking great. What a pity that Rarity never understood your tastes in clothing.
>“Oh, Anonymous,” you remember her saying; “you humans clearly have no sense of fashion”. You tried to explain her many times that, back on Earth, fashion, like many other things, had become a thing of the past. Damn, back on your homeworld, everybody dressed the way they wanted or… to put it better, ashamed themselves the way they wanted. Eventually you gave up on the fashionista and decided to simply ignore her remarks on your style.

>You shake those thoughts out of your head. P0nyville’s in the past… you’re now on a new place, where you think you’ll fit better in this world of colorful talking horses. 
>You grab your bag and your apartment keys, open the door and step out in the darkened and smelly streets of Low Canterlot’s slums. 

>One-storey stone houses, co-existing with concrete and steel buildings, all crowded against one another in a mixture of cheap architecture where aesthetics have long lost any meaning. Wooden shacks and the ruins of some majestic mansions, from the times when some rich families populated the area, dot the cityscape that expands on the lower reaches of the mountain where Equestria's capital sits, separated by several roads and secondary causeways from the higher, classier and much prettier zones of the city, like an ugly stump kept away from the eyes of Equestrian Nobility. 
>Dozens, if not hundreds of p0nies, pegasus and earth p0nies mainly, wander around the streets, taking care of their various businesses, some of them barely legal, as you well know. A few vendors here and there try to attract the attention of the crowd by calling out the virtues of their products, even if those are the most blatant of lies.  
>Though now it’s only ten past two pm, several bars and taverns have opened their doors and those p0nies with late-night or morning work shifts are already drinking themselves to death on those establishments. You spot a young pegasus stumbling out of one bar only to vomit profusely on one of the drains that litter the sides of the streets. Nop0ny on the streets pays him any attention and you sigh with content.

>It’s only been three weeks here and you are already in love with these good ol’ slums. 

>Well, the p0nies of “Classy” Canterlot called these slums, but to you, they aren’t that bad. Hell, some of the houses around here are way cleaner than the residential block you lived in back on Earth. There are no guards patrolling the place looking for burglars, urban gangs or lonesome trouble makers.  Almost all p0nies around here have jobs, not fancy and well-paid jobs like the residents of the better areas of the city, but jobs nevertheless. That’s more than half of your home planet population could say when you disappeared from its surface. 
>Now that you think about it for the nth time, you never quite got to know how you became stranded on Equestria. Nor the Mane Six, as you called them, or the Princesses could offer you any clue about that either. Was it magic? Or was it transdimensional teleportation, just like in those old sci-fi videostories? 
>Anyways, a few days after your arrival, you were completely out of the fucks to give and had decided to run along with this new situation. 
>A voice suddenly interrupts the flux of your thoughts. 
>“Hey there, Anon!”
>You look to the right and, just in front of one pub’s door, stands one of your dudes from these areas. A brown-coated earth p0ny called Earthquake, aka the Friendly Neighbor, the Awesome Bartender, the Drinking Bro and so on. Just above his white maned head, a sign proudly displays the name of the place he owns: “Quake O’Neigher Old Ale House”
>You still find incredibly amusing that there is an equivalent of an Irish pub in Equestria. Even Earthquake’s cutiemark even looks more or less like a pint of Guinness. But you don’t mind, as long as that p0ny keeps serving that excellent beer and those awesome cocktails of his invention. 

>You close the door of your apartment and approach your pal, smile in your face and your fist stretched out. 
“Wassup, Quake?”
>The two of your brohoof and he returns the smile.
>”Nothing, really. Just another regular day, me tending to my pub and you sleeping your ass off…as always”
“You always say that as if there’s anything wrong about me sleeping my ass off”
>”Just kidding, Anon,” he replies,” So, how’s my favorite monkey patron doing?”
“Quake, I’m your only monkey patron”. 
>You never mind he calling you monkey anymore. After all, you really must look like one in the eyes of these p0nies. 
>”Just because you’re the only one doesn’t mean you’re not my favorite, does it?,” he laughs. “Anyways, I wanted to know if you’ll be coming later”
“You bet I’ll come!”
>”Good, ‘cause the others are dying to see you tonight….Oh, and one other thing, Anon?”
“Yep, what is it?”
>You have a feeling you know where this is going. 
>”I know you are still running on the allowance provided by the Princesses…”
>Yes, this is one of the good things about being the only human in this world. Some complex and really deep shit about endangered species protection and…voilà! You have now bits being delivered every month to your doorstep! 
>”…and I know you are having no problems living here, but still…”
“Just get on with it, Quake”

>”…haven’t you at least reconsidered that offer I gave you?”
“What? That one about working in the pub?”
> He nods and you sigh. You are really getting tired of Quake’s work offers. 
>”Come on, Anon! The boys here love you! And you have skill when it comes to serve booze!” 
>He was right about that. Apart of having worked in a car factory, one of the few jobs you had managed to keep for a while, back on Earth, had been working as a waiter at a Disco Café in Megalopolis Central District, where you had picked up a few tricks about drunktards management, cocktail preparation and accurate shooting.  
>Ok, maybe that last ability isn’t of any real use here in Equestria, where no cybernetic drug-addicted gangers are trying to rob your cash register every so often.  But, anyways… Quake is still talking…
>”And I bet the mares around here would love to see you as part of the staff, don’t you think?”
>You smile at that last comment. You’ve been getting the attention of many of the mares, that’s true, and later you’ve spotted some of them looking at you with half lidded eyes or stealing glimpses at your ass.  Where the mares of High Canterlot seem to see nothing but a shaved and ugly ape, the more open-minded mares of Low Canterlot look at you as something else… as an exotic creature… as an interesting and somehow exciting creature.
>Now that you think of it, you shouldn’t have bragged about human sexual stamina when you got drunk for first time here. Now many females are willing to know first-ha…hoof, if your stories are true.

>There was even that minty green unicorn one night who kept visual contact with you for hours, all the time biting her lower lip and eyeing you with mute approval and desire.
>Not that you felt uncomfortable about the whole thing.  
>At least not as uncomfortable as you’d have felt during your first weeks in Equestria, but still, although later you’ve been seriously considering trying to get into it, the thought of getting laid with a p0ny still feels a bit wrong.
>”So, what do you say, Anon? Won’t you at least reconsider it?”
>You are going to refuse, once more. You haven’t worked for more than eight years now, and running on the Royal Allowance for Endangered Species Protection seems like a good way of continuing the lifestyle you led on Earth.
>But you can also read something in Quakes eyes. He is almost silently pleading with them, begging you to accept and work with him. And you have to admit that, after so many times, his arguments are really starting to convince you. 
>Subconsciously you are beginning to think that maybe this working thing is not a bad idea after all. 
>So, instead of giving your pal a big and clear “nope”, you decide to play along for a while. 
“Uh…I’ve been thinking of it, Quake…”
>He eyes you intently, hope reflecting in his big dark pupils. 
“…but I haven’t made up my mind yet” 
>He frowns and looks saddened. 
 “I need more time to think about this…” 
>Then, on a rush, you say something you know you may regret later. Right now, though, you can’t help it, not wanting to disappoint Quake one more time. 
“Look, just give me ‘til tonight. By then, I’ll give you a definite answer” 
>He nods solemnly. 
“Deal?”   
>”Deal” 

>You brohoof once more before making a 180s turn and beginning to walk up the main street. 
“Ok, Quake. Guess I’ll see you tonight, then. I’m going for a roll on the upper zones” 
>”Watch out for those assholes, Anon! Some of them may get real nasty on you”
“Those pricks should be the ones watching out, Quake!” you laugh as you walk away.
>As you make your way amidst the crowd of p0nies towards the causeways that lead to High Canterlot, you are thinking. 
>You don’t know why exactly, but you’re having this weird feeling that something big is going to happen today. Maybe you are going to accept that work offer after all. Maybe you will finally lose your p0ny virginity. Maybe…you don’t know, the possibilities are almost endless! 
>So lost are you in your train of thought, that you don’t notice that you’re approaching the causeway checkpoint until you’re a several dozen meters away from it. 
>A wide and fortified gate built of solid marble, veins of gold and silver running across its ivory surface, it looks more like a piece of art, brought from a museum exhibition, than a regular checkpoint. On Earth you would see a fat cop sipping coffee behind a bullet-proof glassed cabin and some automated turrets. On Equestria, three guards, clad in golden armor, stand stoically side by side under the open archway, blocking the pass. 
>Every minute or so a cart transporting goods to High Canterlot Market Square appears in front of the gate. Someone speaks with the guards, then they nod and make way for the cart to pass. Pure and mechanical routine. You smile, already knowing what to do to pass through the checkpoint. 
>You could ask them politely so they let you through. Since you’re somehow important and special (the one and only Human thing, you know…), they would probably allow you to continue your way without much of a problem. But that would be too easy. And you prefer to do it the other way. 

>You unzip your bag and extract your most prized possession from it.
>Your hover-board. 
>The long, sleek and stylized metallic object plummets down before its fall comes to a complete stop, just an inch from hitting the ground. Then, with a hiss, the air compressors shift to full power and the board pushes itself upwards until it’s staying aloft. 
>Several p0nies, the few around who have never seen you in action with your board, gasp as they watch the floating object. The others simply stare at you, waiting for you to do one of your tricks. Some of the more experienced are already making their way towards the gate to get a better view of the coming spectacle. 
>You raise your left leg and, seconds later, a magnetic band locks around your left foot, keeping it secure against the board surface. You then face the gate and the distant group of guards. You set your right foot on the ground.
>You take a deep breath, put on your goggles and, with a powerful swing of your leg, you propel yourself towards the checkpoint. 

Music: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=39ZokhTyHZQ 

>With no ground friction and with the help of your right leg, you quickly find yourself closing distances with the guards, who have just taken notice of your fast approach. The three of them, as usual, neigh, snort and shout at you at the top of their voices, all the time demanding you to stop. 
>Their words lose all meaning because, right now, the only thing you can hear is the air sizzling around your body and the low rumble of your board engines as they start to harness energy for your next move. 
>One of the guards, an impatient rookie unicorn, kicks his legs about and goes on a full speed run against you, his head lowered and teeth clenched, charging like an enraged bull.
>You were more or less expecting that. 
>When the rookie is about seconds from colliding with you, you slip your right foot and press one of the switches on the tail of your board. The harnessed energy on the air compressors is suddenly released and you are flung into the air, just at the right height to jump and dodge the oncoming guard, almost caressing the crest on his helmet with your board as you leave him in the dust, confused and blinking in awe.
>The crowd that has reunited near the checkpoint laughs and cheers while you continue your approach. 
>The other two guards watch you intently as you begin covering the last few meters until the checkpoint archway. One of them, a pegasus, takes off and hovers to block the upper part of the access, while his unicorn companion produces a spear that is immediately aimed at you. 
>A spear! Holy shit, that’s new! Well, something like this had to happen sooner or later. Even if the princesses are utmost forgiving about your innocent shenanigans, their royal guards are starting to get really pissed off.

>Too much time with no one standing up to them, you guess. Someone like you, who disrespects law in a natural and almost casual manner, even if your disrespect doesn’t include murder, arson, rape and other major offences, must be something new to them. 
>Well, these p0nies are going to learn the hard way that some rules are meant to be broken.  
>The board engine is starting to power up again and you know what to do about that. Today you’ll show these p0nies a new trick, one that saved your ass many times back on Earth, especially on those occasions when you had found yourself unarmed in front of a laser gun or a plasma blade.
>These guards only have a wooden, iron-tipped spear. This should be a piece of cake. 
>When you’re close enough, the guard thrusts his spear at you tentatively, not really wanting to hurt you and just trying to keep you away. 
>You turn abruptly to one side and let the tip of the spear pass at your side, few centimeters from piercing your ribs. Both the guards and the crowd gasp at your recklessness, but before anyone, nor the guard nor the other p0nies can react, you raise your board and come to a complete stop in front of the unicorn, your board’s nose mere inches from his face. 
>Then, you press another switch on your board and a dense wave of high-pressurized air, compressed by the board engine into an invisible but tight cushion, is released. 
>As you are flung backwards by the sudden impulse the poor guard is knocked down and ends up sliding a few meters on his flank until his back meets one of the walls of the archway. Then he drops his spear and falls to the ground, groaning while trying to compose himself. You can almost see his eyes rolling and picture birds tweeting and orbiting around his head.  

>You don’t lose any time and ruthlessly exploit the sudden gap in the checkpoint defenses by stopping and changing your advance direction with your right leg. The pegasus guard and the unicorn can only stare, dumbfounded and still too surprised from your actions, as you pass through the checkpoint, a devilish smile twisting your lips.  
>You are now on the causeway and the cheers of the crowd are fading at your back. Up the mountain slope you ascend, dodging carts loaded with goods and groups of individual travelers. A few hundreds of meters above your head, rests your destination. 
>A city, almost entirely composed of spiraling marble towers and graceful buildings. Roofs and domes made of polished gold sprout everywhere. The bright reflections of the sun upon dozens of stained glass windows make the whole place look like something directly taken out from a fairy tale. 

>High Canterlot.



>And here you are. 

>You are now standing on a road that shines under your board as if, every day, a veritable army of cleaners polished the rocks that comprise the pavement. P0nies wrapped in fancy clothing, most of them unicorns, wander around, many of them not bothering to look at you…or even bothering to look at anything at all as they walk with their eyes closed and their faces turned upwards. Damn, this looks like a bad case of collective torticollis…
>Those few who notice you are already either scowling or looking at you with mixed fear and disgust. You have made yourself a name in these parts of the city. 
>What a pity these pricks don’t understand your way of expressing yourself. Anyways, that isn’t going to keep you from paying them a visit from time to time.  
>With a grin in your face, you swing your right leg and soon you are traveling down Canterlot streets at a speed that would make Captain Falcon proud. 

Music: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rMbATaj7Il8

>You turn at every corner in a sharp angle, almost staying parallel to the ground for a second before resuming your solitary race. All the time you hear the yells of the area residents, who are already voicing their displeasure. You catch up some words as you continue your advance:
>”Celestia damn it!”
> “Stupid monkey!”
>”Not again!”
>”Watch out, you brutish ape!” says an elderly looking unicorn in a tuxedo as you pass by his side.  
>You laugh their affected name calling off and then, much to the dismay of the p0nies, you begin to accelerate, now knowing where exactly to go. 
>What place else is better for practicing your tricks than Canterlot Park? 
>You turn to the right and then…dammit! You took the wrong direction! Now you’ll have to take a long detour or, worse, stop and lose all this sweet turbo speed! 
>Well, no big deal because the solution to your unexpected problem is at hand. When you see the lamppost that is rapidly approaching as you travel down the road, you know you have to do it. 
>You outstretch your arm and firmly grab the lamppost with your left hand. You let out a pained grunt when you let the irregular surface of the post slip under your palm, so fast you are going that the quick touch makes you feel as if your hand is burning. 
>Luckily it doesn’t last for long and, in a heartbeat, you turn around in a full 180s, using the lamppost as your fulcrum. Now you’re in the right direction and the p0nies that have seen you once now cower as they see you closing in for a second time. 

>The screams begin anew as you pass and, again, you are pleased to see that the p0nies of High Canterlot curse like any slum p0ny when they’re fairly mad. 
>You laugh wildly again, completely out of fucks to give, leaving behind you a trail of rustled jimmies.
>Life’s good. 
>In fact, it’s going so good for you that you barely notice the golden chariot that is crossing the street until you’re about to collide with it. For a moment, you can see the terror in the eyes of the guards that are pulling the vehicle and the shock printed on the face of the only passenger of the chariot, a sissy-looking pink unicorn. 
>You make a sharp turn to the left and manage to avoid the vehicle. Unfortunately, the wild turning has left you with no stability and you are now zigzagging down the street, almost out of control. 
>You are forced to stop before you crash against a wall or fall from your board. 
>Your board’s nose ends up inches from a mare’s face. You expect to get an earful any time soon, but the mare and her friends, who were until then having tea in some fancy cafe, are really busy looking at something at your back, their mouths agape and their eyes widened in shock. 
>Just as everybody else on the street. 
>You follow the general direction of those stares and you turn pale the moment you see it. 

>You just provoked a traffic accident. 

>The golden chariot is now completely tilted to the right, its left wheel spinning in the air and one of its sides ruined and twisted after having bruised against the road. Seriously, couldn’t they think of any better metal than gold when they were making that chariot? The guards who were pulling the vehicle are now on the pavement, groaning in pain and annoyance.
>Luckily there seems to be no one injured. Maybe this wasn’t so bad. But then you see the passenger, the pink unicorn p0ny, lying on the ground a few meters from the open chariot, not moving at all. Oh, shit…
>Yeah, you may have fucked up, really bad this time. 
>But then, the pink p0ny begins to move and you let loose a sigh of relief. Nop0ny is dead, good, but, as if that was some sort of sign, a maddened uproar rises around you.
>You‘re now surrounded  by dozens of fucking angry-looking p0nies who are cursing you, your name, your family and almost everything that has something to do with you in very different manners. Damn, these classy pricks know how to do verbal bulling of their own. 
>You consider leaving the place in a rush, not even looking back. Some of the stallions look ready to tackle you and stomp you to death. But you’re not an irresponsible man…well, at least not too much. Mum raised you well.

>You goofed up and the least you can do to make up is check on the pink p0ny and see if she’s all right. You could also check on the guards, but they surely aren’t going to be happy about this whole thing.  
>And so, before anyone can do a thing, you make your move, ignoring the glares that you’re receiving from everybody around and advance to help out the poor passenger. Some of the p0nies step forth and try to block your path, but you move around them with ease or jump using your air compressors. That’s when you hear someone crying out loud:
>”Stay away from the princess you monster!”
>What princess? What the hell are these guys talking about? 
>When you are fairly close, the pink p0ny manages to stand up and shakes the now disheveled roseate and white curls of her mane to reveal her tired face and the long horn that protrudes from her forehead, above two beautiful and expressive eyes as pink as her fur and mane.
>Even though you’re still adapting to the idea of finding beauty and sex appeal in things that aren’t human, you have to say that this is by far the sexiest unicorn mare you’ve ever seen.
>But then you feel your heart sunk in your chest when she shakes her body and two little pink wings that you hadn’t noticed before flap and stretch. 

>This is no unicorn.

>You realize that she’s almost as big as a full-grown stallion. Also, her horn is slightly longer than the unicorn’s average. You freeze on your tracks when you also take notice of the golden necklace that hangs from her neck and the shoes that adorn her hooves.  
>Afar from her and half a meter away from you, rests a golden crown that must have been sitting on her head before you made the chariot tip over. 
>A word comes to your mind, a word that princess Celestia herself taught you those days you were learning to adjust to your new life in Equestria …an Alicorn? Is this mare really another p0ny princess?
>Did you just mess up with royalty here? 
>All your thoughts are interrupted as the two guards, now fully recovered from the accident, trip you over and send you to the ground, your left foot still tied up to the hover-board. 
>You try to defend yourself, even with your lower leg bent in an uncomfortable angle, but a hoof pounds your head from behind. And then another punches your back, then another, and another, and another… and your world quickly becomes a blur of multicolored coats and hooves.

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