Title:           Anon- Spad in Equestria 1+2
Author:          PantsMan
Pastebin link:   http://pastebin.com/B5R9WKKa
First Edit:      Thursday 9th of January 2014 09:32:02 AM CDT
Last Edit:       Thursday 9th of January 2014 09:32:02 AM CDT

>36,892 days later.
>You are an old fart.
>Ever since your retirement, your life has been awful.
>You’ve always been out-shined.
>Always the bottom rung.
>The insignias on your wings only seemed to reflect the target for insult and ridicule you had become, following the Great War.
>Ever since you first learned how to take off, it had been your dream to become a famous ace.
>It was the reason you scrambled out of the hangar each morning.
>But your chance at glory was swiped from under your nose.
>It defined you as the plane you are today.
>You are a Spad.
 
>You’ve always been known as Frog.
>The squadrons in the German Imperial Air Force teased you until the name stuck.
>Mon dieu, how you’ve always hated that name.
>But it’d been ages since you had gotten aileron-annihilated over anything so trivial.
>You're not revered by any means, but you'd earned some semblance of respect in Ponyville Airfield.
>Even if it was because the jets were amazed you could fly, it was better than nothing.
 
>Day 36,892 in Equestria.
>You are Spad.
>You forget things and tend to ramble about the past and how it used to be different before ponies had these newfangled jet engines.
>You’re having the early bird special at Ponyville Airfield.
>Sitting together in the retirement hangar are, your two best friends, Sophie and Heinrich.
>They’re at each others’ throats over whose wings are better.
>Again.
>”—Ich think you Angelos are jealous. Cannot into superior handling of Luftstreitkräfte drie-wing engineering.”
>”I for one can go into a climb without my bloody wings falling off!”
>”Ja, hide behind fat engine of yours! Don’t you have somewhere you should spiraling off to?”
“Mes amis, haven’t you two bickered enough?”
>”No one asked you, Frog,” they said in unison.
>Sophie was a pompous cow and Heinrich was a smug, self-absorbed prick.
>But they were the only ponies you knew and could keep up with.
>In your antiquity, the three of you only buzzed around ponyville or played bingo with the other Prop-drivers.
>More often than not, spent your days with your two crotchety friends, griping about something or other.
>I wish I was back dogfighting over Prance.
>These new jets are too loud.
>My skids hurt.
>I’m empty.