"[Filly NMM] A Bet is a Bet"
By 8th-Sin (https://pastebin.com/u/8th-Sin)

URL: https://pastebin.com/EtsuvMZq
Created on: Saturday 29th of August 2015 10:42:08 AM CDT
Retrieved on: Sunday 9 of May 2021 08:38:58 PM UTC


>It's one of those cold winter afternoons where you can think of nothing more but curling up by something warm and having a toasty warm nap.
>Unfortunately you've got a house to clean that you've been putting off for some time now.
>Laundry has always been a pain but it's even worse now without a machine to do half the work for you.
>You continue to fold shirts as you ponder how difficult it would be to make a washer and dryer in this world.
"Magic can act like electricity in some way," you mutter to yourself as you recall the car juicer thing you saw once.
>"What?" Moonie calls out whose attention breaks from the window to the muttering alien folding fabric.
"Nothing... What are you looking at anyway?"
>You roll the last pair of socks and get up to go join Moonie in staring out as it's held her quiet attention for some time now.
>"Pinkie. She's out there... Doing something."
>Out there Pinkie is frolicking and building something out of snow.
>She's piling up more and more snow as time goes by, then she brings out a random tool to work at it like a chisel.
>"What do you think she's making?"
"Knowing her it's impossible to really know but I'll guess a fort. A castle to be more accurate with snow catapults."
>"Really?" She asks with clear disbelief.
"What, do you have a better guess?"
>"Something artsy."
"Artsy?"
>"Yeah."
>Pinkie now has a hammer and is pounding holes into the massive pile of snow but it's still a massive pile of snow, offering no clue to what she's making.
"Want to make a bet?"
>"What are the stakes?"
"Winner can make one demand of the loser."
>"You're on."
>The two of you sit at the cold window in silence, staring out at the perplexing parade the pink pony is put on in the snow.
>Moonie is sitting up on the sill so her breath is fogging up a small area in front of her and every so often so grumbles as she wipes the window clean with a hoof.
>After a few minutes, it's time for pinkie to reveal her finished work.
>As if the mound of snow were a thin sheet, she pulls at it to reveal a snow castle with a canon made of ice sitting atop.
>"I call it, the Wild Warring Wrath of the West! Are you ready raiders of the east?!" She bellows down the town.
>A chorus of blood thirsty fillies scream back and with that, the snowball fight begins.
>A horde of fillies sprint at Pinkie, diving for cover or running out in the open, all lobbing snowballs as fast as they can.
>Pinkie leaps onto the cannon and begins to fire at her attackers.
>A few are hit directly in the face and go down for the count.
"Heh, looks like the Wild Warring Wrath of the West's whacks wield a whammy of a wallop," you mutter to yourself as you stand up to stretch.
>Sitting still for so long has let the chill of the air seep in and you're feeling stiff as a result.
>"How'd you know?"
"Oh, Pinkie told me all about it yesterday. She's been very excited."
>"That's not fair, you knew the results."
"And?"
>She pauses, carefully choosing her response. If she tries to argue, you'll just bring up the time she did the same thing to you in a bet over who could get more candy on Nightmare Night.
>"What do I have to do? Dishes, clean my room, a bath?"
"I don't need to win bets to get those kinds of things," you smile widely.
>"What then?"
"I'll be back with it in a moment," you tell her as you put on a warm coat and head outside.
-----
>You return with a white package, neatly tied with a blue and orange ribbon.
>"What's that?"
"It's for you."
>You place it beside her on the couch and she warily tears into it with magic.
>Then she lifts the piece of clothing you requested from Rarity and is confused.
>"What... is it meant to be?"
"A onesie made of real treated wool," you reply with a grin.
>Confusion is still very clearly written on her face but she puts it on anyway with a little bit of a struggle.
>Once she's set into it and comfortable, you muffle a giggle.
>It looks much better than you thought it would.
>It's got little circular horns and a puffy little tail, completely the sheep look.
>"What's so funny?"
"Nothing, I'm just thinking that it doesn't look to baaaaa~d on you," you mockingly answer.
>Then she realises what she's wearing.
>"What! No!"
>She about to use her magic to rip herself out of the onesie as fast as possible in a fit of embarassment but you leap over and scoop her up into your arms.
"No! We had a bet!"
>You look down at the little filly who knows she can't protest but has decided to instead pout angrily with puffy cheeks.
>There's a heavy pang in your chest as loud as thunder overhead that runs through your body with the force of a war drum.
>"Let me go."
"Not until you bleat for me."
>She hesitates before conceding.
>"Baaa~! Now let me go."
>Moonie begins to squirm and struggle, all too eager to be free of your grip but you've got her on lockdown.
"I changed my mind," you state as you continue to cuddle the pouting little mare.
