30 Days In The Hole

by SwiperTheFox

Rating: mature
Tags: Sex, Slice of Life, Original Character, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Mayor Mare, Romance
Length: 11102

The Mayor finds herself falling for a scruffy young criminal with a lot of promise.

Newcastle Brown wanders into Ponyville, and he attempts to peddle his highly potent (and highly illegal) wares to the residents. After an embarrassing incident with a certain white unicorn and a certain orange earth pony, he finds himself hauled before the Mayor. She gives him thirty days in the hole. However, she finds something rather strange and almost... endearing about this tenacious brewer. She suddenly finds herself in need of an assistant, and she offers to swap the sentence to thirty days in the office. It all starts innocent enough. Yet the Mayor can't stop thinking about how it's been so, so long since she had the warm hooves of a stallion around her.

The artwork, showing the Mayor in all of her beauty and grace, is from gingermint and icekatze. Inspiration comes from the iconic Humble Pie song as well as from the rest of the group's work. Brown's character himself is an interpolation of the frontman, Steve Marriot (30 January 1947 - 20 April 1991). R.I.P I hope heaven can hold you-- you crazy little wildcat. Please note the tags: sex, mature, and Miss Mayor.

Published 2012-02-10 22:24:01 UTC
Last updated 2012-02-15 22:16:24 UTC

Sucking on the Sweet Vine (Part II)

A few hours earlier...

Brown clutched the snare drum for dear life. He slid over to the right side, and then he coughed. The cart hit another one of those big dips, and he wiggled his hooves around. His rear smacked against the cold, hard wood.

"Luna's sweet mane, already!" Brown called out. A short, stubby unicorn glanced back at him blankly from the front seat. "Can't you steer this thing? Or at least slow it down for Pete's sake!"

The stubby unicorn shivered for a second. His sickly yellow mane fluttered all across his chest and his face. He then blew it off of his eyes. "Listen, brother, ah don't need any more whinin' out of ya'll. Ah ain't ever gettin' replaced. Pez here--" The droopy grey earth pony to his left nodded. "He ain't ever gettin' replaced. Drummers on the other hand?"

They get picked up and tossed out like used napkins. "Yeah, yeah," Brown groused. He gripped the snare drum and then nudged over to the tom-toms. The cart hit yet another bump. Brown's back ran into the side of the cart. A mike stand hit him in the stomach. He gurgled.

He stuck his head out of the side of the cart. He stared at yellow magic coursing all around the wheels. I still think this was a bad idea... He flipped around, and then he sighed. The cart suddenly turned.

"Ponyville!" Pez suddenly shouted. He then tossed the pamphlet in his hooves back into the cart. It bounced against Brown's head.

"More backwoods slimeballs," the driver remarked, and he jerked around the tall pole in his hands, "With tailholes for brains..."

"Oh, please, just shut up already," Brown muttered. He shifted about, and then he thrust his head up. He looked out at the big pile of gravel up ahead. "And what were you geniuses doing to do when the road ends, anyway?"

"This road ends?" Pez asked.

*Bang*

Brown felt branch after branch smacking against his sides. He reached out, and then he grabbed something cold, metal and hard. He blinked. He heard all kinds of wood breaking off behind him. His eyes flew everywhere. He couldn't see anything except a solid wall of foliage.

He curled his head up, and he ran his eyes around the tallest trees. The occasional musical instrument littered the branches. His ears flicked around, but he couldn't hear a thing from his bandmates. "You know what?" he muttered. He then tried to pull himself up. "Odds are, they're also fine. If they're not, then good riddance to bad rubbish."

His right hoof gave way. He let out a loud whine, and then he kicked helplessly against the empty air. He looked straight up at the little metal bar. He wiggled his left hoof, and he tried to spin his arm around. He heard a bloodcurdling creaking sound, and then the metal jiggled. The bar then snapped.

*Splash*

Brown spurted out his mouth like a living fountain. He then put his hooves to his head. He coughed, and he curled his body up. "Nothing broken?" he asked. He felt all around himself for a moment. He felt nothing other than being soaking wet.

Brown got back on his hooves, and he hopped out of the big pond. He glanced over at two ducks walking through his hooves. One of them turned around, started at him, and honked angrily.

"My dearest apologies, your majesty," he replied. He then scanned the mossy grass around him. "Where?" He eyed a beat-up brown satchel, and he sped over. "Praise beautiful Luna!" He felt around at the pile of bits, papers, and other items inside. He sighed, and then he looked out at the dirt path ahead of him.

He stepped out. Well, if only I still had... His eyes almost popped out of their sockets. NO WAY! He ran over, and he gawked at the pristine cardboard case mounted at the top of a chicken coop. His horn glowed, and then the case hovered down onto his back. He grinned.

"Ponyville," he muttered, and then he walked out past a little cornfield. The small dirt road finally connected to something paved. He smiled even wider. In just a moment, he found himself inside a cozy looking town square. I'm sure that I'll have problems finding a place to stay tonight. Maybe I'll just sight-see right now.

His eyes ran all across the neat shops with their carefully trimmed bushes and fine white furnishes over to the pretty gardens decorating every other block. A handful of ponies darted about in all directions. They all paid him as much attention as they would a gnat, but he couldn't have cared less. He stopped along a tall, bright red cottage. He took a deep breath, and the scent of sweet baked treats flooded his sense.

He shook his head for a second. Nah, that's not really the kind of refreshment I need. He surveyed the crowd. He then gazed out into the distance. Some ponies happened to be a big argument, although he could barely hear a thing. He suddenly focused on something small and yellow. He pulled his sight back.

The cute whitish yellow tail fluttered about in the air atop a huge barrels. The tail almost seemed to be wagging at him-- inviting him to come closer. He followed the sparkles upon the tail in the bright sun up to the curvy, supple flank where it began. He gazed at the three big red apples marked on the side. He then ran up the muscular orange body over to a big, light-brown hat. He then blinked.

Brown had found himself walking closer just by instinct. He wiggled his head around for a moment, and then he trotted over besides the pile of barrels. He poked his head out a little empty spot in the middle. He saw the orange earth pony pacing the ground in front of some white unicorn. He couldn't quite see the latter pony.

"I knew that you just didn't want to do it," the orange pony said. She stopped, and then she let out a small sigh. "So, why for Pete's sake didn't you just say so in the first place?" The unicorn demurred. "If ya'll have somethin' to say, then why not say it? I just don't understand."

"Applejack, please, I don't think you're thinking any of this through," the unicorn replied. Her sing-song voice just felt like a tender rub along Brown's ears. He pressed his face deeper into the hole. He gazed at the unicorn smooth, pretty white face as she went on. "An eating contest? Me? For goodness's sake, I'm sorry to hurt your feelings like this, and I know that I said I'd do it. Yet I..." She couldn't complete the thought. Just the mere idea of shoving pile after pile of carnival foods down her throat made her nauseous.

"Shucks," Applejack said, "My feelings ain't hurt. I just wanted honesty, that's all. It doesn't bug me. I just needed to know so that I could find another contestant." She then turned to the side. "So, then we--" She paused mid-word. She wiggled around. "We would--" She then leaned down. Brown found himself starting at Applejack face to face-- inches from each other on the other sides of the hole.

Applejack blinked. He blinked. She sniffed. He then sniffed.

"Can I help you?" she finally asked.

He smiled, and then he pulled his head out of the hole. He hopped around to the other side, and then he glanced at both mares. "Let me introduce myself first," he said, "The name is Newcastle Brown. Everypony calls me Brown, of course." He rubbed the edges of his mane with his hooves.

"I'm Rarity, pleased to meet you," the unicorn said. She stepped over, and she began to reach out of hoof. He glanced down at the light muddy film coating him, and then he coughed. He spared her by shaking the air between their hooves. She smiled.

"Applejack, and likewise," the earth pony declared. She shook hooves with full force. He almost thought that she would rip his hoof off.

*Ding ding*

Rarity glanced over at the building behind her. Brown took in the opulent decorations and caring touchings put on every window and every door. Has to be her... boutique. "Oh, Mister Brown, I'm terribly sorry. I know that we've just met and we have so much to talk about, but I need to help Mister Raspberry right now," she said, and she leaned over to the door. Brown nodded. "Please excuse me." She then looked over at Applejack. "I'll love to see who ends up winning."

Applejack and Brown watched Rarity speed off to her customer. They then looked back at each other. "Eating contest," Brown said, and he slid his head to the side, "That sounds fantastic." Applejack bounced up a little bit and smiled.

"Thank you very much, then. Nice to finally meet our last contestant," she said, and she stepped closer to him. He then tensed up. Her happy face melted, and she stepped back-- confused.

"Sounds dreadfully," he said, and he buried his head in his hooves in mock-deliberation, "Incomplete. Sure, it would be fun and all, but I think you should kick it up a notch." Applejack listened intently to every word, and then she scowled.

"Kick it up?" she repeated.

"Drinking contest," he declared, and he bucked up on his back hooves. Applejack stared back blankly for a moment. She then tapped her right hoof against her head.

"Drinking what? And you'll have slim pickin's in this neighborhood for that sort of contest, sorry," Applejack said. He ran his eyes along her face. She seemed to have one part apprehension battling it out with one part frustration and eight parts confusion. "I don't know how that could work."

"A fantastically beautiful and courageous mare such as yourself would surely love to," he said, building up each word as he magically lifted the big case behind him above Applejack's head, "Face off against my ale." He shot pure emotion into those last two words as if he was talking about his own flesh and bone. Applejack stared at him, defiance just dripping off of her. "That, against your own best stuff. So--" He leaned forward until their faces were inches away. "What have you got?"

"Ya'll ain't got a clue what you're up against," she said, and her eyes narrowed. Her face shifted into a devious smile. "I've got a few special bottles that I could dust off for such an occasion." She grinned even wider. "Honest advice, ya'll might want to keep a nurse handy."

He returned the grin. The earth pony's assertive face and quirky accent just seemed to drive him crazy. He didn't know if he wanted to kiss her or keep bragging. He chose the latter. "Oh, Applejack, I've been sucking on the sweet vine all my life," he said, "We have ourselves a contest."

The two ponies lined up their right hooves without a single conscious thought. They glanced down, and then they thrust their hooves against each other. They each leaned back and took deep breaths.

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"Well, well, well," Brown said, and he kicked against the cold, dark cell wall in front of him, "I wonder who the Wonderbolts are boning today." He nudged his head deeper into the pillow, and then he pressed the glossy papers against the top of his head. "The better question is: Who aren't they boning? Oh, well." He tossed the magazine to the ground.

Didn't Marks tell me over and over again. That's what pegasii always do. It helps to 'improve the eye' before any flight. He ran his left hoof against the cell wall. Well, I'm not getting any in here, that's for sure. He sat up on the bed. I should praise my lucky stars for that, maybe. I'd hate to have Mister Mule's thick, hairy hooves on me.

"What in Pete's sake is the Mayor doing?" he asked. He then pressed the other pillow against his face, and he tried to nap. He pictured her smooth, tan flank with her smart scroll cutie mark. He then squeezed the blanket in between his legs.

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"Regina?" the Mayor asked. She wandered down the blank white corridor over to the empty office. She ran her eyes all along the piles of papers to the tossed about folders to the huge boxes crammed with knickknacks. "Regina, is everything all right?"

"She said she was going upstairs," said a meaty voice behind her. She sped around, and then she eyed the giant red stallion. She looked up at his scruffy hair and the big yoke around his neck.

"Oh, up to the alternate office," the Mayor said, and she took a few steps over to the stairs. She then paused. "Oh, she should have known that we have everything all under construction up there. Doors lead to nothing. There's tarps everywhere-- loose nails, tossed about tools, and goodness knows what else. You warned her, right?"

"Eeeeeeeeeyup," Big Mac replied.

"Good, but then... Oh, dear, she's so new. It's so horrible for me to just burn through assistants in the past few years, and I hope she's growing into the position," the Mayor commented, "I hope she didn't make a wrong turn somewhere. Where did she say she was going, exactly?"

"The fifth floor," Big Mac said. He shifted his head back.

"Oh, excellent," she replied. She began to step up the stairs. She halted once again. "Wait a moment..." A chill went down her face.

"We don't have a fifth floor!"

(To Be Continued)

Hot 'n' Nasty (Part III)

Earlier that day...

Twilight eyed the glob of sweat as it poured off of her nose onto the picnic bench. She leaned her head back as she blew into her face. It didn't do much good. She took off her bookbag and slumped it onto the ground. That barely helped either.

She glanced over and looked across her back, everything as wet as if she had jumped into the nearby pond. She then scanned the rest of the field turned fairground out in front of her. Ponies darted about in all directions. "Come on, if everypony else can stand the heat, so can I," she muttered.

"Oh, Twilight, what are ya'll thinkin'?" said a voice from behind the purple unicorn. Twilight spun over and saw Applejack creeping up, balancing a long tray of apple fritters on her back. "Didn't you see my big keg of lemonade? I'll just grab a glass, just be one sec."

Twilight nodded and smiled. She wandered off into the crowd. Her eyes danced around from Snails as he jumped onto a teeter-totter to Roseluck as she shoved her flower-filled pushcart to Pipsqueak as he spun around a little carnvial-style prize wheel. Twilight tossed about her head a bit to shake off some more sweat.

"Just half an hour ago everything was fine," Twilight said to herself, "Now, it's like a sucker punch to the back of your flank..." She eyed Rarity bouncing about besides the food serving tent, and she walked over. "Not just hot, but this humid and warm and everything else..."

"Isn't it awesome?" asked a deep voice to her side. Twilight swung around, and she gazed at the huge crate above Brown's head. "It's just so blasted perfect. All hot n' nasty!" Brown glanced at Twilight's pained expression for a second, and he shrugged. "Now then..." He set the crate down onto the long, green table. "Where is that sweet little orange enchantress?"

Twilight nudged a hoof over to Applejack, tossing out lemonades to a couple foals on the other edge of the tent. Brown nodded, and he wiggled his thick mane over his left eye as he sauntered over. He winked slyly. The purple unicorn just stared blankly. Twilight then eyed Applejack as the orange pony balanced glasses all over her body, spun around, and then slide them off her hooves perfectly into place like an acrobat.

Twilight suddenly felt marshmallow-y hooves clutching her side. Rarity twisted her over, and they locked eyes, just inches from each other's faces. "Doesn't it look marvelous?" Rarity asked, anticipation oozing across her face like syrup on pancakes.

"What looks what now?" Twilight muttered.

Rarity directed Twilight's head over to the big set-up at the entrance to the food serving tent. Twilight ran her eyes along the thick black tarp on the ground up to the sharp white desks and cubicles littered atop the tarp. Her eyes fluttered across the dozens of outfits-- from cowpony jackets with matching boots to dapper suits with bowler hats to loose, 'foreign correspondent'-style brown coats covered in pockets-- set up all around. For all the mud and dirt traveling across the fairgrounds, the whole area seemed spotless.

"Rarity, uh," Twilight replied, and Rarity slowly let Twilight's head out her grip, "It's all beautiful, of course, but I don't understand why on earth you'd put half your shop up for sale outside a drinking contest."

Rarity smiled. She shifted to the side and swung around a fancy crimson purse. She magically lifted up a newspaper and wiggled it in front of Twilight's face. The purple unicorn gazed forwards, and Rarity grinned even wider.

"Half price novels at Frenchy's Book Emporium!" Twilight squeaked.

"No!" Rarity called out. She pulled down the newspaper a few inches.

"Blues Group Breaks Up, Tells Canterlot Music Festival 'Up Yours'," Twilight read aloud, and then she stared at the image of Brown right below the headline. The brewer pony had shoved his right front hoof under the left one to complete the visual while beefy stallions carried him off of some kind of stage. Twilight then silently read a little bit below.

"This could restart my whole career, Twilight," Rarity moaned, jiggling a little in place.

"I don't understand," the purple unicorn began, but she suddenly spotted a little part of the newspaper that Rarity circled around at least three times. Twilight took a deep breath. "Ex-members Spring Step and Newcastle Brown "mourned" their group's death by hitting the next-door boutique, cleaning out the shelves completely to the owner's delight. She remained in high enough spirits to tolerate Brown's surprise kisses as they checked out. However, after Brown asked the owner if her younger sister was "on the shelves for rental use", the boutique's staff promptly threw them out. After being informed of the sister's underage status, Step reportedly screamed "age is numbers only". He has since denied saying that."

Rarity ripped the newspaper out of Twilight's hooves, shoving it back into her purse. "Let's not focus on that part, shall we?" she muttered. Twilight shrugged. The white unicorn tapped Twilight on the shoulder, and then she walked over to the fancy set-up.

"It's that time, ya'll!" Applejack hollered from the middle of the food serving tent. Twilight stared at the orange pony as she produced two huge cowbells, clanging them like crazy. "The eatin' contest begins in a matter of seconds. Those that ain't eatin' for sport should at least be eatin' for fun."

Brown walked past Twilight, and she eyed his mane as it swooshed over his back. He sat himself down nice and easy at the huge table in the middle of the tent, rubbing his hooves all along his sides in anticipation. Twilight edged herself into the corner of the table. She ran her eyes along the dozens and dozens of ponies lining up all around.

Pinkie hopped into place opposite Brown, and the pink pony glared at the expanse before them. Pinkie focused upon the massive pile of sugar doused apple fritters alongside slices of apple pie, ice cream dripping all over. New plates with even more food popped up every few moments besides them. Brown and Pinkie locked eyes.

Twilight tried to watch. Everything began to fade into big blurs in front of her. She blinked repeatedly, sweat just flowing along the sides of her eyes. "Oh, goodness, I'm zoning out," she muttered, "Where's that blasted lemonade?" She fumbled around on the table, hooves squishing into little piles of food. She heard a clink of glass, and she magically threw it over to her face.

She missed, tarty lemon sensations dripping down the edge of her nose. She wiggled her head around. "Three... Two... One... GO!" Applejack screamed in the distance. Twilight glanced over. She stared as Brown smacked his face against his side of the plate. Hunks of apple spurted around the sides of his face. Twilight couldn't help but think of Winona with a new bowl of kibble.

Pinkie, for her part, dug into her side of the platter with the same intensity. Twilight squinted. The pink pony melted into a flowing pink blob. Twilight picked herself up and then grabbed somepony's drink from behind her. She guzzled down the sickeningly sweet concoction, fumbling all the while in her bookbag for some aspirin.

Twilight turned around again. "Rarity might have some," she whispered, eyeing the white unicorn's big set-up. Twilight took a step, but she wiggled about in the air. She sniffed, feeling as if she couldn't make contact with her hoof. She glanced down, and she saw what looked like six hooves spinning about in the air below her.

She licked her lips, getting a full, bitter aftertaste of whatever it was she had had. She coughed. She slumped back into the seat, gazing over at the scene in the middle of the tent. Brown jumped up and screamed, hooves pumping into the air with sweet victory. Pinkie jiggled about in place, her face looking as if it would melt off of her skin. She then bonked her head against the table.

Twilight closed her eyes. She magically held up the empty glass all around her face. The wonderful symphony of sickeningly sweet favors laced with calm, quiet bitterness felt like a kiss from a coltfriend. Tingles of pleasure dancing across her body, she opened her eyes again. She suddenly eyed another glass two tables over. She glanced around, seeing nopony close, and then she brought it over.

Time seemed meaningless. She made love to every last drop of that second drink. Each soothing kiss of alcohol sent warm sensations coursing through her face. She felt it moving down all through her body, finally tingling along the tips of her hooves. She finished, and she enveloped her mouth against the front of the glass. The vapors poured all through her senses nonstop.

"BROWN!" Roseluck suddenly called out from somewhere besides her. Twilight heard the entire crowd start chanting the stallion's name. She glanced out back at the main table. Crumbs with the occasional scattered chunk of breaded apple spread all across the blank plates. Brown popped out of his spot and then shuffled his bottom hooves around.

The crowd went even wilder as he danced. "Yeehaw!" Brown yelled, and he tapped his hooves against his side, "Hot! And! Nasty!"

"Geuss da eatan cantesf es oveur!" Twilight shrieked. She staggered out towards Brown, who spun about in place and pumped his plot into the air. "Drank time es naow!"

Twilight watched, eyes growing bigger at every second-- as Applejack sat across from Brown's spot. Two huge trays slid over in front of the orange pony. Applejack stared at the clean, white glasses filled to the brim with thick, reddish-brown liquid. Foam seemed to ooze out every time Applejack blinked. The orange pony grinned as Brown pulled up a beat up old flask. Brown sniffed a little, and then he coughed.

"You sure this isn't fuel?" Brown asked, curling his head and letting his mane dance along his chest.

"Pots shouldn't call kettles black," Applejack replied, and she pulled her hat down a little, "I can't believe it. Ya'll added this much sugar, and then ya'll have it with vapors just pouring everywhere?" She nudged her hoof against one of Brown's glasses.

Brown just laughed. The two of them then leaned forward. Lyra popped up behind Applejack's side, and she tapped gently against the table. Brown and Applejack eyed each other once again.

"Now, everypony is finally ready. Staring in seven... six..." Lyra counted out. Brown reached out and tapped his hooves against the table with each number. He shot a tough, devious little smirk over at Applejack. She did the same thing right back. "Five... four..." He tapped down harder. The glasses jiggled a little. Applejack snickered. "Three... Two..." He smacked his hooves down harder. "One!" Brown popped himself upwards.

*Crash*

Brown accidentally slid his hooves along the edge of the table. The trays bounced around. Glasses started to tip over. Applejack and Brown both jumped up and tried to grab them. Brown knocked his side against the table as he leaned forward. Three of the drinks poured over the table. In just a few seconds, Applejack and Brown watched a big pool of concentrated alcohol, vapor trails coming off over every inch, flooded across the table.

Both of them noticed the ring of short, stubby candles going across the table a few feet besides them. They both gasped. They both jumped over to the side. Had either one of them decided to say put, the other would have shoved the candles out of the way. Unfortunately, they both went into the air at the same time, and so they both smacked right into each other's faces like a door into a doorstop.

Twilight saw alcohol running all around a group of little flames. She blinked. She saw the flames dancing out across the table. She blinked again. She saw flames enveloping the entire table, ponies running about screaming. She gasped, heat starting to pour across the front of her body. She blinked one last time, finally realizing that the flames were coming right for her.

She sobered up in a split-second as the fire fluttered across her chest. She stumbled back and then collapsed upon the grass. Ponies flew about all around her. She heard all kinds of screams and moans. She then turned her head over, still trying to get completely back to her senses.

Twilight's eyes grew wide as she saw flames popping off of the burning table over to the thick black tarp in Rarity's set-up. Little fires burst out besides outfit after outfit. Twilight hopped up and then sped over. She heard Rarity crying somewhere behind her. Twilight halted right besides the table, a solid wall of flames going up all in front of her. She panted, trying to come up with the right spell.

"Well, 'Up Yours' too, Brown!" Rarity screamed.

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Later that day...

The Mayor sped up the stairs, bonking into the walls as she turned the corners. She hopped over a pile of nails and boards across the floor. She halted right in front of a big stack tiles, eyes darting all around. "Regina, sweetheart," she called out, "I hope that you're--"

She suddenly stepped on a hammer, and she fell backwards. She plopped back up, and then she looked across a half-assembled corridor. The Mayor's eyes locked upon a tiny door at the end. A piece of paper duct-taped to the door read 'Place at the Fifth Floor'. She trotted over, and then she moved her hoof over to the door handle.

The Mayor took a gulp. She then slowly creaked the door open. She looked out and saw a few bluejays moving about the sky. She held out her front hoof, and she waved it at the thin air outside the door. She then looked down.

A pony shaped crater stuck out inside the hall gardens, four stories below. The Mayor narrowed her eyes, and she spotted a little movement underneath the azaleas. A grey-ish brown hulk stirred around a little. The Mayor shook her hooves against the sides of her face, and she wiggled about.

"Praise Celestia, she's alive," she moaned, and then she hurled herself backwards towards the stairs. She flew right down the steps. She eyed Big Mac for a second. She whacked him on the side, and called out for a second. "Nurse Redheart. To the gardens. Now."

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"Community service officer?" muttered Roseluck. The slender mare gently slid the paper back down onto the table. "I'm sorry, Miss Mayor, but I don't quite understand..."

"It's rather simple, actually," the Mayor said, leaning back in her chair and glancing at the ceiling, "My office has an inherent responsibility to enhance communal cohesion. Thus, I have always had a special place in my heart for the rehabilitation of neighborhood..." She tried to find a diplomatic. "Non-law-abiders. Why not give it a personal touch?"

"But why on earth would you have criminals working for you right here, in your office? I thought that... Well, you were so gun-ho just a few days ago about finding an experienced new assistant," Roseluck replied, she paced around the office for a little bit. The Mayor just gazed straight above, pure satisfaction pouring off of her face. "You said before that you wanted to make sure everypony in your office is the best and the brightest. Just like poor, poor Regina was."

"I did say that, didn't it?" the Mayor asked, her voice lowering to a whisper. She then popped herself up and sat back up straight. "You should have said: Like Regina is. She'll be out of the hopsital in just a week or two, with nary a scratch left at the end. So, out of this vacancy crisis, I've found an opportunity: use the assistant position as a stepping stone out of crime.

Roseluck shrugged. She walked over to the cabinets at the side of the room. Her eyes trailed around the numerous little sculptures, trying not to sneeze at the dust everywhere.

"Can I be frank?" the Mayor asked. Roseluck nodded slowly. "Consider him a prisoner of my private rooms and my main offices. You'll never have to talk to him, give him anything, or anything like that. You'll barely even breathe the same air." Roseluck's eyes moved straight down, and she wiggled a little bit. "Just do your job, and he'll leave you alone. I promise."

The slender mare met eyes with the Mayor for a moment. Roseluck stepped out of the room, and then the Mayor sighed. She ran her hooves along the huge pile of papers across her desk. Well, I guess that was the easy part. Time to face Brown, then.

She picked up the little glass of lemonade behind her. I suppose he's five times more likely to pop me in the face then to be willing to work for me. And then to... let nature take it's possible course... She sipped a little, and she heard the door open once again. Oh, well, every fire starts from a spark.

Brown stepped out into office. Big Mac hovered a few inches off of his side. Brown sighed, and then he walked over to the cabinets. He ogled a small model eagle, frozen in a tight black pose more like a despot's emblem than a natural documentary. He glanced back at the Mayor silently, and then he shrugged.

The Mayor's eyes moved up every inch of the golden-haired stallion. Wow, nothing's changed at all... She put the glass down and then walked on in front of the desk. Well, of course things wouldn't change, you silly mare! It was only, what, a few hours in jail!

"Yeeeeeeeeeeeees," Brown moaned, putting on his best Canterlot colt-servant voice.

"Mac, there's no need," the Mayor said. The bright red stallion tossed his head to the side. "Really, everything's fine. You can go back to helping Roseluck with the mail. I wouldn't say you could go if you couldn't, now would I?"

"Eeeenope," Mac replied. He then sauntered out the door.

Brown then stared blankly at the Mayor. She positioned herself in front of her desk. Oh, goodness, it's been too long since I've... I suppose it's like riding a bicycle, you'd never forget. She curled her front side over along the wood, and she let her long, flowing grey mane wrap around her side and flutter across her chest. She stuck out her eyelashes, and she titled her head a little to the side.

Brown's apprehension just melted off his face. The stallion drank up every inch of the mare's beautiful body. She rubbed her body along the desk, hair wiggling across her body. She felt her tail curling up in between her bottom hooves, and she nestled it closer and closer. Brown's eyes kept growing wider and wider by the second.

"I'm so very, very glad to see you here again, Mister Brown," she cooed. She opened her mouth a bit, and she could almost feel her teeth sparkling. Ooooh, Miss Mayor, you are a bad girl. You are such a bad, naughty girl... Burying yourself in your work like that for so long without giving yourself the proper feminine release! Depriving yourself for years! "I'm happy to see that you've accepted your new position." Time to uncoil that spring.

"Sure," he replied, and he stepped closer moment by moment. Her eyes feasted on the sweat dripping down along his soft, poofy golden mane. She gazed along his shoulders. So muscular, so proud, so... delicious... "Seriously, thirty days of community service versus thirty days in the hole? Easiest choice of my life."

"Service," the Mayor repeated, every second of that word dripping with desire. She suddenly picked herself up straight. She reached over and nudged up her glasses. "I'm overjoyed that you can start giving me your personal service. She twirled her mane and tail around her sides, stepping out over to the cabinets.

They met just inches from each other. She gazed straight into his eyes. She could feel the pull from inside his soul. He craved her, wanting every last bit of her and every last inch. I'm not just a mare to him. I'm a chemical. I'm a drug. I'm inside his blood. He's addicted to me. My mane, my curves, my tail, my eyes, my cutie mark, and everything else. She couldn't help but lick her lips.

"So, uh," Brown muttered, and he staggered backwards a little, "What exactly did you want me to do?" He ran his hooves along the cabinet drawers. "Like I told Mac, I worked as a secretary for the English Department back at the University." He reached up for a pile of folders, accidentally knocking it all over onto the floor. "Just let me know--"

"Oh, just look," the Mayor muttered, and she grabbed the eagle, "It's filthy." She reached over to the right and pulled out a washcloth from the side desk. "Can you polish these for me?"

"Okay," he replied. He picked up the washcloth from her hooves, and he rubbed it along the head of the statue.

"Polishing, is all about the feel, the technique," she cooed, and then she nudged her hooves along on top of his hooves. He let out a little squeal, her delicate touching shooting tingles into his body. "You need to move forwards and then straight down. You need to pump." She thrust around with her hooves against the statue. "You need to rub along the sides, and then push."

"Uh, huh!" Brown moaned.

"And push!"

"Yes, yes!"

"AND PUSH!"

"YES!"

The statue popped out of their hooves and smashed onto the floor. The horses smacked hooves against each other, eyes locking intensely. Brown panted hard, knowing that he would never buck any mare as hard and as passionately as he would the goddess in front of him.

(To Be Continued)

One Eyed Trouser Snake Rumba (Part IV)

Brown thrust his face onto hers. Their lips met, pure pleasure shooting through his body. He curled his hooves all along her neck, gripping tightly. She held him close, and she twisted about her head from side to side. His tongue danced across her teeth, taking in that wonderful taste of his ale.

The Mayor moaned as Brown poured himself onto her. He ran his hooves all along her mane, rubbing the back of her head with the tips of her hooves. Their heads bopped up and down, left and right, and then around in a little circle. He shoved her against the cabinets, pulling her mane down and winding it around his hooves. He ran his tongue along the sides of her mouth. She cooed once again.

Brown made out harder and harder, faster and faster. He rammed her against the cabinets as his lips rippled across her face. He threw his hooves up and buried the sides of his face in her wonderful, snugly mane. Her taste, her scent, her touch, and every inch of her! Oh, Praise Luna! The Mayor's hooves clutched the sides of his back, tugging him ever closer.

He broke the kiss, leaning back a few inches and watching the wet trail coming of of the Mayor's face. He gazed into those gigantic, pretty eyes of hers. He curled his face along her neck and laid a trail of sloppy kisses around her cheek. Her coos drove him out of her mind. She moved her hooves up, and he did the same. His kisses went on along the side of her head, down her neck, and then all across her chest.

The Mayor shivered as Brown's hooves caressed all along her side. Her mane fluttered all across the sides of his head, and he buried his face in it completely. She moved her head down and kissed him as he moved on down her chest. His poofy, golden mane mixed up all inside her smooth, grey mane. Her soft, delicate hooves explored all over his rough, muscular body.

Brown's hooves then found their way down to the Mayor's flank. He rubbed all around her cutie marks, and she panted hard. She panted faster and faster as he splattered sloppy kisses along her belly. Brown buried his face inbetween her legs, drooling all over her. The Mayor's bottom hooves buckled, and she let out a low whine. The whine built up louder and louder as her body enveloped Brown's. Shocks of pleasure rippled along her sides.

Brown burst out with deep, masculine groans of pleasure. He curled his hooves down along her plot over to her marehood, still kissing over and over again between her legs. He stroked along her marehood's left side. The Mayor shivered once again, almost feeling as if foam poured out of her mouth. Brown's left hoof rubbed into her marehood itself, and she nudged her body down. He began moving up and down, again and again. She felt herself dripping all over Brown and onto the floor.

Brown suddenly shifted backward. He twirled his mane around and made a huge grin. The Mayor let go of the cabinets and slumped onto the floor. She looked down at her tail coming up from behind her legs, soaking wet from her love juices. The two ponies gazed at each other for a moment, their faces and bodies completely frazzled.

"The desk," the Mayor declared, and she forced herself to stand back up.

"Desk?" he asked, and he rubbed his face with his hooves.

"Buck me. On my desk," she half-shouted, and she wandered over. She propped herself onto the desk, face first. "Buck me right under the Ponyville City Seal." She wiggled about and laid herself down on her back, papers scattered all under her. She curled her bottom hooves up, bent her front hooves the side in supplication, and thrust her tail into the air.

"As you wish, Miss Mayor," he responded, and he sauntered over.

"Sarah," she moaned. He stopped, and then they locked eyes. She nudged her glasses off of her face, and she let her mane flutter across her eyes. "That's the nickname my closest friends used to use. What my ex-husband used." She wagged her tail seductively, and she showed off her eyelashes. "Please, Brown."

Oh, goodness, you're just so beautiful... He felt as if he could just jump into her eyes and wade forever in an endless ocean. I'll never, ever see a more pretty thing as long as I live. He positioned himself right at the edge of the desk. His colthood throbbed about in the air. He leaned it against her thigh, and the touch of her supple body made him moan with pleasure. He nudged a bit to the left, moving his hooves along her chest.

His mane dropped down over her body, and she brought her own front hooves against his chest. Despite the pure beauty going from her hooves to her head-- something that brought him to the edge just to see, let alone touch-- he couldn't stop gazing at her face. He felt his colthood lining up perfectly atop her marehood.

"I... I love you, Sarah," he moaned. He leaned down closer, feeling their grey and golden manes blurring into one. Their faces were just inches apart.

"I love you too, Brown," she moaned back. She nodded a little as well, and she pressed her plot even closer to him. He smiled, and his eyes opened wide.

Brown pressed a little bit with the tip of his colthood. He shook from the burst of sensations jolting through his body. He slid himself forward. The pleasure just poured into him. He felt the top of his head swimming in pure bliss. His legs buckled as he nudged himself closer. Finally, shoved in as deep as he could, he leaned down and kissed her.

Their lips smacked again and again. He felt her front hooves curling against his hard, muscular chest, trying to grab him. He nudged his own front hooves against her soft skin. After drinking in every bit of her amazing sensation, Brown slowly slid out. The tingles coursed from his colthood into his sides.

He bit his lip, taking in almost all of his strength not to blow his top inside her right then and there. He slit out completely, her love juices pouring all out between his legs. The Mayor moaned, her face locked in exactly. Brown took a deep breath, and then she shoved himself in. He smacked his face against hers and ran his front hooves along her sides.

Their screams filled the room, hooves buckling against each other's bodies. He slid himself out and right back in again, their manes flying about. The screams gave way to low groans. Brown pounded again and again. He felt so close to just losing it, so close to becoming like an animal. The Mayor jerked around upon the desk, digging all four of her hooves into his body.

They locked into an intense rhythm. She felt so full, going at him as time completely lost any meaning. Everything about him touched someplace inside her that hadn't been touched in years. She might have thought that she, actually, had never felt this connected to somepony before. Except, she could barely think at all. The thrusts grew faster and faster, the Mayor drooling and biting at the top of Brown's mane.

He smacked against her marehood harder and harder. Slams of pleasure coursed through her mind, building up so strong that it almost somehow felt painful. She strained to breathe. She saw Brown's face contorting with pure emotion.

"Sun... is... coming... up..." he groaned, and he leaned back a few feet.

"I think I'm still!" Mayor Mare called out. She gasped, and then she bit harder against the tips of his mane. "I'm not safe! Not safe!" Her hooves jiggled mindlessly in the air.

Brown leaned back down, and he nestled his face upon hers. "I love you. If anything happens, I'll take responsibility," he whispered. They both smiled. She felt his colthood quivering inside of her.

The Mayor curled her bottom hooves around Brown's rear. She felt her marehood clenching around him. Their faces rubbed for a second. She pushed herself forward. They kissed.

*Pulse*

Brown screamed. She could only moan. Every little drop of his cream seemed to spark thousands of little bursts of pleasures all through her insides. He bent his body back, and his hooves tossed about in the air. She threw her head to the side, gasping for air. Somehow, he just kept on releasing himself. She spun her head around left and right, and then she groaned even louder.

Finally, after what felt like a thousand years, Brown pulled himself off of her. He staggered a few feet back and them collapsed onto the floor. The Mayor leaned down, wiggling herself back towards the edge of the desk. Love juices oozed out of her marehood with a loud and painfully unladylike noise. She watched as white stuff spilled all over the papers underneath her.

*Bang*

The ponies' hearts seemed to stop at the noise. Then, a torrent of knocks burst out from the other side of the door. Brown and the Mayor just stared. "Are you okay, Miss Mayor! What in Celestia's name has this monster done to you!" Roseluck called out. She scraped against the door. "Oh, I knew he was bad news!" She finally swung open the door.

Roseluck took three steps into the room. She then froze completely in place for a painful twenty seconds. Her eyes stared right in between the Mayor's legs. Roseluck then shivered. She slowly moved her eyes down across the desk over to the floor and then to Brown's limp colthood. Roseluck's eyes seemed to grow as wide as saucers.

"Take the day off, dear," the Mayor called out, and she wiggled her front hooves in the air.

Roseluck opened her mouth to say something. She halted. She glanced behind her, and then she sped out the door, slamming it loudly behind her. Brown let out a low whistle.

The Mayor then swung her legs around and then sat straight up on the desk. She glanced over, Brown sauntering behind the desk over to her back. Brown caressed all along her sides and then rubbed his hooves onto her belly. She made a happy sigh.

"I'm going to love the next twenty nine days," she moaned, her head slumping over. Brown's massage moved down from her neck all along her back. She shut her eyes tightly and pressed her mane onto his face.

"Or the next twenty nine weeks," Brown moaned, and he thrust himself up against her back. He littered kisses along the side of her face.

"Or the next twenty nine years," she whispered. Brown suddenly stopped. She took a deep breath as Brown nudged off of her body. She slowly turned her head around, and she gazed at him.

"You... you really mean..." he muttered, and he looked down, "That? Between the two of us, when we've just met?"

"Hopefully," she whispered, and she fluttered her lashes at him, "I'm not saying anything for sure, right now, but if it got that far... It would be nice..."

Brown didn't say anything back. He didn't need to. He simply leaned forward and kissed her once again. She pulled off of him, and then she twisted her head. She smiled, barely suppressing a flurry of giggles.

"Mister Brown, would you like to go out to dinner with me?" she asked. She put her front hooves around Brown's shoulders. She blew the hair out of her eyes.

"It's a little backward," he replied. He went ahead and laughed. "But, hey, it's not like I've ever cared about doing things right the first time, anyway."

"It's a date," she whispered, and they kissed.

(To Be Continued)

Is It For Love? (Part V)

The Mayor kicked her bottom hooves against the empty air. She shifted back in the elegant wire chair, rubbing her hooves along the sides. She slanted her head over to the right, trying to look as if she listened to every word. Yet she just felt so tense that she could hardly really breathe.

For Pete's sake, it's him, and it's me. We've gone through all of this. Why do I keep thinking as if I'm that lanky little filly with the cola bottle glasses getting stood up? Getting looked down upon? Brown finished his little story, and then he made a big smile. He pushed his hooves against the cafe table. I... just have to know. Is it really, really love?

She giggled nervously, and she tried to focus one again. She gazed at his face, his beautiful mane fluttering across his eyes like always. She then stared straight down, watching her bottom hooves wiggle through the crystal clear glass. She heard a rustling behind her. Ah, the server will be here in just a moment.

She felt Brown's hooves moving down across the table. He then delicately rubbed them against the tips of her hooves. She looked up at him, and she nudged her glasses back up on her face. "I'm really, really glad to be here," Brown said. He made that aggressive little smirk of hers, but she couldn't stop gazing into his eyes. It just looks in there like... shelter.

"For you, madam," the server pony said, putting out a small plate in front of her. Her eyes ran across the light, crispy hay fries, which made her mouth water, over to the dark green casserole, coated in mysterious white spots that made me a little naurous. She looked out and saw Brown nudging his own, much larger plate, closer.

Please, dear Celestia help me, let he not dig in like at the eating contest. The Mayor reached out for her sparkling glass of club soda. She let out a little sigh of relief as Brown magically lifted up a fork and stabbed it against a big hunk of eggs in cheese. She glanced down at her own plate, moving her own hooves along the sides.

"AHHH!" The Mayor called out. Diners flipped around and stared at her all across the cafe. Her hooves jumped off of the plate and then flew up to her face. She stared at them for burns, feeling a sea of painful tingles flowing through her.

"Sarah," Brown whispered. She glanced out, and she saw him nudge himself right besides her. He ran his tough, muscular hooves along her own soft hooves. He reached down and kissed them. She felt his poofy mane rubbing all along her shoulder. After what felt like an eternity, Brown leaned back and stood up; her hooves felt perfectly fine with his touch.

It's love! He suddenly felt as if she was covered in wool. She shifted about in her chair, curling her legs beneath her. Brown looked at her blankly as he sat back down. She opened her mouth to say something, but she stopped. He really is serious. He really is the type that might put a ring on me. She really couldn't put anything into words. Yet it didn't matter. Brown gazed back at her, and she ran her long, grey mane along her neck. He understood completely.

"Back to our regularly scheduled program," Brown said. They both smiled, and they dug in. The Mayor couldn't believe how hungry she felt, and she sped through. She then eyed the last, smelly hunk of casserole on her plate like a barbarian invader at the gates. She glanced up at Brown, who had about half of his meal to go.

"Oh, rats, I'm out of soda," she muttered. She went to hold up a hoof.

"Forget that!" Brown said, and he reached down. The Mayor shifted down and looked at his satchel. Her eyes grew wide as he held up two big grey flask. "Such an occasion like this calls for the appropriate..." He swung his head around. "Libations!"

The Mayor shivered in place, but she tried to force a smile. "Oh, yes, of course... I... Right..."

"Oh, you don't..."

"Why, of course I'm fine." She reached out and seized one of the flasks. "I'm going to be practically living off this stuff, anyways." She popped the top off and smiffed. The warm, sickly sweet kiss of alcohol shot through her senses.

"To..." He began, and then he paused to think up the right words. He slanted his head to the side. He then smiled. "Aw, what the hey, 'This is to us', I say."

The Mayor nervously smiled. She curled her face forwards, lifting up the flask. The things we do for love! She sipped in a big dose. For a split second, she couldn't feel a thing. Then, pleasure rained out from the top of her brain all along her body.

"This tastes just great!" And I guess I've not as much of a lightweight as I had thought.

*Thunk*

The Mayor's body slumped off of the chair and crumpled onto the ground.

"Uhhh... I guess I'll see you later at your place, then," Brown muttered. "Check please!"

The End

A Nifty Little Number Like You (Part I)

"Smile if you like," muttered the blank faced unicorn. Newcastle Brown glanced at her for a moment, and then he thrust out his front hooves against the counter. He leaned back and hurled his thick, golden mane across his face. He tipped the edges of his hooves up towards his lips. He slanted his head a little bit over, looked straight at the unicorn, and winked.

*Click*

Brown kissed the air, his eyes locking with the unicorn's beady little appendages.

*Click*

"Turn," she muttered. The unicorn continued to stare at the drying paint on the wall behind him. Brown swirled around his hooves and then swung his whole body over. He bumped his hips against the edge of the counter. He quickly ran his hoof up to his horn and then across his face. All freshened up, he sat straight. He then suddenly nudged a few inches over and licked the glass wall.

*Click*

"Done," she said. Although she picked her voice up a little bit more, she showed less emotion than a box turtle. Brown gave her another seductive glance. This time, he let a little tuft of his frizzy golden curls bounce right atop his eyes. He ran his left front hoof along the edge of his chin. A few seconds went by. He sniffed, and then he trotted off over to the corner.

A big, beefy mule pointed at him to stop. The mule then motioned him over to a narrow little corridor. His eyes glanced around the offices behind him. All white, all calm, and all sterile... Praise Luna, even the ponies that work here are in prison. He moved on down the corridor. It almost seemed to shrink and narrow at every step like one of those funhouse attractions. The mule let out a loud grunt.

"English please, my brother," Brown remarked. The mule pushed his back. He held up a hoof and made as if to pop the mule one, but he immediately hesitated. They'd be scrubbing me off this wall if I... The mule silently pointed up at a set of stairs behind him.

Brown turned around. He took a deep breath, and then he headed up. He followed the stairs over to the right. He nearly smacked into the thick grey door that appeared. He paused. Somepony then opened the door from the inside. So much empty ceremony... It's like I was naughty and they have to sick the principal on me. He stepped into the light.

He seemed to go into tunnel vision. He gazed upon what seemed like a solid wall of silky, cuddly goodness. It looked almost like a pillow, and he almost could feel it. His eyes danced up that beautiful tan colored body up to a fancy white collar. He focused on this big teal puffball at the tip of the collar-- decorated with a long silver sash on each side. He heard a light whisper. He moved his gaze up and then admired this cuddly, soft nose.

"Ahem..."

Brown blinked. He jiggled his head a bit. He then looked out and saw a mare sitting behind an enormous desk. He couldn't help gazing at her face again. His eyes ran from one bright yellow edge to another of her smart, sharp glasses. He then traced along her fluffy gray mane. Streaks of white and grey intertwined together like brush strokes on a beautiful panting. He glanced over at her big, pretty eyes, and he felt as if his heart was wading inside those delicate blue pools.

"A-HEM!"

He blinked again. He seemed to snap out of it. Well, that'd be the first 'perfect ten' that I've seen in this stupid town so far. "Hello," he said. She said nothing back.

He surveyed a little bit more of the room. The tan mare had a frustrated expression on her face-- something too calm to be a scowl but still stronger than a mere frown. Picture after picture decorated the walls behind her and around her. He noticed little marble sculptures of eagles, turtles, volcanoes, and all kind of semi-random things placed all about. He scanned across the bookshelves crammed with all kinds of material over to the little tables littered with papers and then to the cabinets covered in cryptic shorthand labels.

'Send A to the grinder - T.S.'... What in Luna's name could that mean? He looked over from the post-it note twoards the tan mare. She didn't quite seem to know what to say, and that fact irritated her. The mule then leaned over and whispered something to the mare. She nodded.

"The Mayor will just confirm the record, first," the mule said. Brown shrugged. Mayor, eh? I almost wonder if they chose it by beauty contest...

"Name?" she asked. She nudged a clipboard across her desk.

"Newcastle Brown..."

"Occupation?"

"Rabble rouser," he replied, and then he made a big smirk. She glared at him. He gazed back. Her eyelashes fluttered as she shifted her head, and then her mane dropped down over the desk. Each move sent a little pulse inside of Brown. "Uh... brewer..."

"I'd hope so, with that mark," she said. He felt her stare running around his dark, reddish brown body over to his flank. She then eyed the three little mugs filled with sparkly golden-brown liquid. "Very well, then."

"So, Miss Mayor," he muttered, and she shifted around in his spot. He heard two huge stallions step up behind him. "What's the charges, again?"

"Possession of a controlled substance," the Mayor replied, and she moved down her glasses a little bit. Those last two words had an odd mix of three parts curiosity mixed in one part contempt. "I don't think I've been told how you plead."

"My ale," Brown said, and he puffed up like a father describing his champion son, "Pleads guilty to being delicious, malicious, and not the least bit nutritious." He clapped his front hooves together, and he swished his hair across his eyes.

"Well, I'm truly stumped," she said, and she picked herself off of the seat. She stepped over and eyed his whole body once again. In turn, he ran his gaze down her side over to her wonderful poofy grey tail and her cutie mark-- a scroll.

She nudged a little bit closer. Take a picture, sweetheart. It'll last longer. "Your honor, I think that there's been a big mistake. Like I said before many times, I'm just passing through. I'll probably never be here again. I've apologized again and again for that little mishap with Jack."

"Applejack..."

"Right," he stepped a little backward, and he felt two giant hooves against his side, "I understand you have your position, but I have mine. My ale it's..." He strained to find the right word. You'd think that a life dodging the law would make me better at talking out of this stuff, but nope. "It's my life."

"What am I supposed to do with a nifty little number like you?" she asked. She then leaned back against the edge of her desk. Brown took a good look at her chest and belly. She noticed, and she didn't seem particularly pleased. "I'm afraid that, as a matter of precedent, I'm going to take a hard line on you. Your recklessly callous behavoir has to be taken notice of."

"Hard line?" he repeated. I'm not liking where this is going. Goodness, I just thought I'd give a fine or a little community service or something. What kind of podunk ultra-conservative town is this.

"I'm thinking of a number between twenty-nine and thirty-one," the Mayor said, and she curled her body against the side of the desk. Brown didn't know if she was seducing him, teasing him, or just letting her subconsious mind take over. "Now, take your time, Brown."

"Uhhhh..." he muttered, "Thirty?"

"Thirty days in the hole!" the Mayor called out. She snapped upwards and pointed a hoof straight at his face.

"THE HOLE!" Brown screamed back. The giant hooves behind him squeezed closer. "What is this? Don't I get a trial or an appeal or a-- what gives? Thirty days!"

"Administrative edicts such as those regarding controlled substances do not require judicial review," babbled the Mayor. She closed he eyes and then tossed her hoof into the air. "Take him away."

"No, no, this is just, no," he muttered, and he found himself pulled back down the stairs. His long hair dangled about across the floor-- scraping noisily. "Seriously, is this a joke? A prank? Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha! Now, seriously, it's enough." One of the stallions put a hoof around his face, and he blanched.

In just a few moments, the door slammed shut. The Mayor found herself alone once again. She paused, and then she walked over to the small set of windows on the opposite wall. She looked down at the ponies all milling about in the town square. She then sighed.

=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=

"Miss Mayor, are you really going to put him there all... all..." Twilight Sparkle asked. She sat back further in the fluffy red chair and wiggled her bottom hooves. "Thirty days?"

"Oh, goodness no," the Mayor said. She re-sorted the pile of folders across her desk, and then she stood back up straight. "It's called 'scared straight'. Just a few days, or maybe even a matter of hours, and he'll get his tune changed. He'll have his long hair cut." Although, that's be a shame... He looks so great with it up like that. He's so aggressive and so masculine. Goodness, he's less stallion and more animal.

"I don't care what Rarity says," Twilight said, and she wiggled the chair closer to the table, "It was an accident. Applejack said so. She saw it. I saw it. And as for the-- the--" She tried to meet eye to eye with the Mayor, who glanced around from one side of the room to the other. "'Controlled substances' thing? It's just ale, for goodness' sake. Really, how bad could it be?"

"I'm told it's very bad," the Mayor said, and she pressed her hooves against the desk, "That it's horrible stuff, nectar of the devils, that makes little girls abandon their families for the closest party." She shook her head in disgust.

"It's not right," Twilight replied. She got up, and then she placed a small metal something onto the table. "A pony has their own right to follow their own conscience and do what they want." The Mayor idly waved a hoof in the air, and then she pulled open yet another drawer. She heard Twilight step out.

The Mayor sighed. Oh, goodness, I don't even know anymore. I didn't write these laws. I didn't start these stupid little 'edicts'. She eyed at the dirty grey flask at the edge of the desk as if it was an ursula minor about to chomp onto her face. You... you're the cause of all this. Oh, I just can't take it. I either offend a legion of parents with one decision or I step on the hooftips of all of my best friends. Heads I lose, tails I lose. I'm beat up on if I do something, and I'm beat up on if I don't do something.

She closed her eyes, and she pictured the powerful reddish-brown stallion once again. She felt something flutter inside of her when she recalled how his mane dropped across his chiseled face. Oh, what's wrong with me? It's just been too long... way too long for me ever since... I am a mare, after all. She wiggled around. No, I made that promise to myself right when I won once again. I wouldn't risk my position for a stallion, not again.

The Mayor shifted a little, and she opened her eyes. "Buck it," she muttered. I'd rather lose if I DO. She nervously held her hoof over, and then she touched the end of the flask. Well, it's not going to bite.

She pulled the flask over, and then she paused. She took a deep breath, and then she popped the top off. She leaned down and inhaled. A wonderful, stickly sweet caramel flavor burned all through her nose and then moved down her throat. Tingles erupted all over. Pleasure burst out across from the tip of head moving downward. She pressed her face down, and then she licked the mysterious ale.

*Thunk*

The Mayor's body then slumped down along the underside of the desk.

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The mule threw Brown into the dank little cell. He heard the door slam behind him, and then he twisted around. He pressed against the thick, rusty bars. He opened his mouth to say something, but then he stopped. He glanced back, and he surveyed every last decrepit inch of the cell.

Brown coughed. Although they kept everything so dark that he could barely see, he made out an oddly clean darkish blue stall with a toilet and sink. He then ran his eyes over to the plain little bed. For whatever reason, the two pillows had little pink laces littered across its sides. Thick, stubby dressers sat beneath the bed. He coughed again. Well, I've had worse apartments than this... that I PAID for...

"Hey, brother!" Brown shouted. He looked across at the blank white tables and chairs outside the cell.

The Mule eyed him back blankly, and then the Mule put down his box of cookies. "Yes?" he muttered.

"Can I get a magazine?"

To Be Continued