She's Got Manticore's Blood
It was Friday evening and Lightning Dust was at a pegasus party in Cloudsdale at the Hoofton Hotel. All around the lobby, ponies were talking and chatting with each other. Lightning Dust walked around, overhearing their conversations.
“So then, I gave the TPS reports to Johnson and he told me to do them again, because I messed up the spreadsheets,” said Flitter the pegasus.
“And then I went to the doctor, and he told me that I’d need to start having my annual mammograms soon,“ said Cloud Chaser.
“Blah blah blah blah,” said Raindrops.
Lightning Dust yawned, bored to tears at the poor excuses for conversations going on, and took a giant swig from a bottle of tequila.
What? Fuck no, she didn’t have a chaser! Chasers are for pussies like Rainbow Crash.
Anyway, she walked around and observed a bunch of ponies barely worthy of her presence as they socialized. As she walked, a charcoal-coated pegasus stopped to talk to her.
“Hey, you’re Lightning Dust, right?”
“That’s my name, and that’ll be two bits in royalties for saying it,” said Lightning Dust.
“My name’s Thunderlane,” he said. “Didn’t you get rejected from the Wonderbolts?”
“They didn’t reject me; I rejected them,” she said, so cool that she was smoking an entire pack of cigarettes at once.
“Yeah, well I thought it was because you were reckless, impulsive, and not a good flyer…”
Suddenly, Lightning Dust flapped her wings, grabbed Thunderlane by the neck, and pinned him up against a wall.
“Don’t you EVER,” she said, huffing, “Talk to me about not being a good flyer. I could best you at anything, anytime. Remember that, punk.”
She let him go, and he fell to the floor, cowering away, grateful that she had spared his life. Lightning Dust laughed as he scurried off.
“Uh, excuse me, miss?” Lightning Dust turned around as she saw a yellow pegasus with a blue mane. It was Raindrops.
“Can you put out those cigarettes? I have asthma, and it’s making me have an asthma attack,” Raindrops nagged.
Lightning Dust took a drag off of all twenty of her cigarettes, and exhaled the giant smoke cloud directly into Raindrops’ face. She started coughing, and fell to the floor convulsing.
“Eh, you’ll be fine. Quit bein’ a fag like the ones I’m smoking,” she said, kicking Raindrops in the chest, which resuscitated her. She, too, ran off.
Bored to tears, Lightning Dust continued to walk around until she began to feel an itching sensation. She soon realized that she hadn’t snorted her daily dosage of lightning dust, the stimulant drug for which her parents named her. It wasn’t exactly legal, but laws were made for lesser ponies.
She reached into her mane and pulled out an eight ball bag of yellow powder. She reached to open it with her wings, but realized that she was still holding all twenty of her cigarettes in between her feather fingers.
So, using just her hooves, she opened the tiny baggie, poured some onto a table, took a razor blade and cut it into molecular fineness, and rolled up a dollar bill to snort it. Yeah, with just her hooves. She can also play the flute, play guitar, and type. Strong Bad’s got nothing on Lightning Dust.
Lightning Dust took the dollar bill and snorted an entire rail of the lightning dust. Her senses heightened and her hooves and wings shook as the drug took its effect.
With her heightened hearing, she heard Thunderlane off in the distance on the other side of the hotel lobby.
“Yeah, and then she said that she could take me at anything. What a joke. I’m the best flyer in all of Equestria!” He pointed towards his chest with his hoof, puffing it up.
Lightning Dust scowled, and in a unit of time so small that scientists have yet to develop clocks that can measure it, she dashed over to Thunderlane and pinned him to the wall. The other partygoers gasped at seeing this.
A wave of sheer terror overcame them. Flitter and Cloudchaser grabbed each other in their hooves, scared to death of lightning Dust. Raindrops lived up to her name as a puddle appeared on the floor beneath her.
“What the FUCK did you say about me, you little bitch?” she demanded.
“Uh, uh… well, er, nothing…”
“Riddle me this, Thunderlane,” she said. “What always comes before thunder?”
He didn’t speak.
“LIGHTNING!” she yelled, bucking him backwards through a window. Then, before he hit the ground, she dashed over to his other side and bucked him back into the hotel lobby. As he was on the floor, she grabbed a potted plant and smashed it over his head. Then, she took a shard of broken glass in her hoof and stabbed him in the jugular vein with it.
Holy shit!
Thunderlane cried out in pain and terror, fearing his life was over. But, though Lightning Dust is a wrathful and vengeful pony, there is just a small shred of forgiveness in her heart. She took a swig of Jack Daniels and then spat some onto the wound, sanitizing it. Then, in a medical feat so advanced that students are now taught how to do it in med school, she put out all twenty of her cigarettes in the wound, cauterizing it so that Thunderlane wouldn’t bleed to death. That day, smoking saved a life.
The other ponies gazed at Lightning, jaws agape. She grinned from ear to ear and looked at them. “That’s right, I’m fucking winning,” she said. “I’ve got manticore’s blood.”
Suddenly, the ponies heard sirens off in the distance. Lightning Dust would have flown off, but no police officer could ever take her.
Through the front door of the Hoofton, a trio of Wonderbolts burst in. They held guns in their hooves, and on their heads, they wore red helmets with flashing red and blue lights on them.
The other ponies ducked on the floor, but Lightning Dust simply giggled at their hats.
“Get down on the ground right now!” they yelled at her. “You’re under arrest for drug possession, vandalism, assault and battery, attempted murder, and smoking in a nonsmoking area!”
Lightning Dust did indeed drop. She fell to the floor, laughing in hysterics.
“Wow, wha-what a b-bunch of fucking faggots!” she yelled in between gasping for air.
“These are official police hats!” one of the Wonderbolts said.
“Now I’m glad that I rejected you all from the Lightningbolts,” said Lightning Dust, referring to the club of ponies who are allowed to be in her presence.
“But we rejected you--” one of them started, before he found himself pinned down on the ground and being beaten and clobbered by Lightning Dust. The other two turned to shoot her, but she was already out the door and zipping away.
“After her!” one of the Wonderbolts yelled, and they all flew after her.
She flew down Mane Street in Cloudsdale, blazing by other pegasi at record speeds. The Wonderbolts followed behind her, closing in.
“I’m John Buckell with World’s Wildest Pegasi Chases,” said a grey-maned pony, “And today, we’re going to show you that crime doesn’t pay.”
The camera zoomed in on Lightning Dust, who was soaring through city streets.
“This pegasus is wanted for attempted murder and assault of a police officer. She starts by flying right through a residential area, knocking down several cloud mailboxes. The Wonderpolice are in close pursuit, and have set up roadblocks ahead of her. Soon, she’ll learn that crime is not gonna fly in Cloudsdale.”
Lightning Dust flew over the roadblocks.
“She evades the police barricades, but they’re closing in. Soon, there will be nowhere for her to go. She reaches into her mane and pulls out a bag of yellow powder, which is full of drugs that she’s trying to dispose of. These featherbrains never learn that if you get too high, your wings will burn up, and you’ll crash.”
At that moment, Lightning Dust snorted the rest of her lightning dust, which gave her the extra energy she needed. She busted right through the line of Wonderbolts in front of her, knocking them out of the way.
“Now this pegasus will wish she was flying--”
She slammed into John Buckell, hitting him before he could finish his terrible pun. The wondercops safely behind her, she soared off into the night air, evading capture.
Fuck yeah!
