~ What true fans lack in money they make up for in devotion ~
Featherweight Looked at the poster in front of him. It was brightly colored and in big letters it had the word ‘Wonderbolts’ on top. He stared at the poster longingly. This is the closest I’m getting to the Wonderbolts' race, huh? He sighed and then stared sadly into the bottom of his bits pouch. Nestled against the ragged bottom of the bag were a few dull, somewhat dented bits, shining dimly when the sun hit them. He groaned and stomped. “I would need about fifty times more than this to even have a chance at seeing the Wonderbolts; race!” He’d always grown up admiring the Wonderbolts, too small to be a powerful flyer he’d set his eyes on becoming one of their biggest fans. Maybe even, one day, their photographer.
Next week was the Wonderbolts' highly anticipated race against the Ground Shaking Griffins and everypony who was any big Wonderbolts fan was going to be there. Three of the princesses and the elements of harmony are rumored to show up as well!
What I wouldn’t give to be at that race. Featherweight felt himself drifting off into a daydream. The roaring crowds, the track, the wind whipping across his face from the pegasi’s wings, the announcer announcing fancy racing facts and stuff. It’d be the best day of his life.
He frowned. Too bad what he had to give wouldn’t amount to what the ticket sellers wanted. He turned to trot back to his house when a piece of paper hit him smack in the face.
Featherweight removed the paper from his face and unwrinkled it. “What in equestria?”
Attention Wonderbolts Fans!
Are you a die-hard Wonderbolts fan? The flyer proclaimed in colorful swirling letters. Would you give anything to go to one of their races? Well, think no more! Come to Ponyville’s town hall this Friday and enter the Fan Costume Contest. Dress as one of the Wonderbolts and if you win our grand prize is a ticket to the Wonderbolts' upcoming race. It’ll be all yours! Not to mention you get to meet with the team upfront and personal! Don’t wait! Get your creative mind thinking, make a homemade costume, and then come and compete!
GO WONDERBOLTS!
From,
The Wonderbolts' Filly and Foal Support Staff
Featherweight raised the flyer in the air. “This is it!” He exclaimed, causing more than one passerby to jump and in surprise and stare at him for a moment. “This is my ticket! Wonderbolts' race here I come!”
Featherweight wanted to go home.
The pegasus looked around, desperately wishing for the one hundredth time that he could sink into the floor beneath the stage, costume and all. He had arrived bright and early on the day of the contest, his heart brimming with hope and his tail flicking in a mix of nervousness and excitement. With every arriving contestant, however, he could feel his heart dropping lower and lower into his chest.
“Excuse me,” said a snotty voice behind him. Featherweight turned to see a pink filly, swathed in layers and layers of rich navy velvet, trotting past in decorative Wonderbolt attire. Featherweight’s mouth dropped open. That most have cost a fortune.
Diamond Tiara stopped and spun in front of a filly. “Do you like it? I made my Daddy go out and buy the very best for this competition.”
Silverspoon nodded. “You look great, Diamond, as always!”
The pink filly stopped, looked back at Featherweight and then snicked to her friend beside her. “I bet you ten bits he’s gonna cry when he gets on stage.”
Silverspoon giggled. “I bet you twenty that his costume will fall apart if a breeze catches it.”
Diamond Tiara and Silverspoon broke out in obnoxious laughter and trotted across the stage.
Disheartened, Featherweight turned so he wouldn’t have to look at the fillies anymore, only to be smacked in the face by a giant contraption made of wires and cardboard.
“I’m tho thorry!” Came a voice, buried somewhere beneath the huge set of fake wings. A little base filly with red glasses appeared from beneath the contraption and wandered off, staggering beneath the weight of the fake wings on it’s back.
That was the last straw for Featherweight. Giant fake wings? The glitter alone on that contraption must’ve taken months to do. He didn’t stand a chance against all these ponies and their insanely expensive costumes.
Cheeks flushing, he began to push his way to the back of the stage. Behind him, he could dimly hear a cheery announcer shouting the winner and the snotty pink filly excitedly claiming, “Oh! I knew having my Daddy’s personal seamstress work on this would pay off!”
With one last step, the foal slid behind the stage curtain and sat down tiredly. He looked sadly down at his own costume. A faded navy t-shirt was already partially torn and the cardboard badge looked… well, like cardboard.
He picked listlessly at the homemade Wonderbolt buttons he had made. He always made one after every Wonderbolt race and thought they would be a neat addition to his costume. They had date of the race on the Wonderbolts’ logo. The buttons had been his pride and joy, but now they looked plain and dull in the dim light.
“Hey, I saw you out there on stage. Can I get a closer look at those buttons?”
Featherweight looked up, only to have his mouth drop open. For there, in front of him, stood the one and only Soarin, Co-Captain of the Wonderbolts.
“I-I-um- sure.” The foal managed to stutter out.
Soarin studied the buttons one by one. “Wow, you’ve got every winning race from last season here!” The Wonderbolt exclaimed. “Oh yeah, that game against the Sun Speeders! I’d almost forgotten about that one!”
“You were great in that race!” Featherweight blurted out, hastily trying to un-clip the Sun Speeders race button with fumbling hooves. “I would b-be honored if y-you would h-have this.”
“Well now,” The Wonderbolt said with a wink. “I can’t accept such a generous gift without returning something to show my appreciation.” He reached into a pocket on his uniform. “How about in exchange for you pin< I trade you this extra ticket I’ve got here for next week’s race?”
Featherweight stared, dumbfounded. “I-I-thank you!” he said, as Soarin turned to leave.
“Thank you.” The Wonderbolt replied, pinning the button to his uniform. “I’ll wear this to the race for good luck, but it’ll be even better to know we’ve got a true fan cheering for us in the stands.”
The little pegasus could only smile weakly in return, but Soarin knew that Featherweight would be in the stands that upcoming week cheering his out for the Wonderbolts.
