"If you're listening to this, that means you bought my audiobook. And that means, you're a winner. If you didn't buy this audiobook and instead stole it off somepony else, well then congratulations! You were clearly more fit to have it than that jerk was. If you stole it, please send me your name and address, so I can find you and kick $49.99 out of you.
Now that the legal shit is out of the way, I feel it bears repeating that by coming across this audiobook and hearing the audible chocolate that is my voice, you're a winner. I don't let losers buy stuff with my name on it. So if you're a loser, toss this tape right now. Seriously! Take this shit into the street and stomp on it. My words of wisdom will do you no good.
Alright, now that all the pussies and quitters are out of here, let's get down to business. Although I need no introduction, and my name was on the front of the damn box in giant red letters, let me go ahead and introduce myself. My name, is Lenny Flowers. You may remember that name from the 1994 World batball series where I struck out a player of inconsequential name to win that shit for Trotlanta. There's a reason you remember my name and not his. It's because I'm famous, and he isn't. Because I did the striking, and he did the striking out. In this series of seven tapes, I'll give you all the tools you need to get the fame, whores, and money you deserve. By the time you're done with these tapes, you'll be beating mares off with both hooves. Or stallions. Or griffons or dragons, or whatever species you want to put your cock/rub your pussy/grind your cloaca in or against. Lenny Flowers doesn't judge someone based on what they want to fuck. And friend, you'll be fucking one or all of them in no time. How? It's like I said before. Just by having this tape, you're a winner.
Now, you may not know you're a winner just yet. You've got a winner inside of you, though. And it takes a winner, to reach your inner winner. So through the course of this audiotape, I'm gonna reach deep, deep inside of you and bring out that winner. Image me, deeper inside you than you've ever felt any stallion go before. It's like I'm balls-deep in you, but I'm not. Especially if you're a dude. I'm soul-deep in you. I'm reaching my hoof all the way up to the elbow to bring out your inner winner. By the time I'm done with you you'll be sweaty, tired, and probably a little sore. But you'll be a winner. Or my name isn't Lenny Fucking Flowers."
Rainbow paused her tape player, smiling to herself. How could I have gone this long without knowing Lenny Flowers put out an audiobook? she wondered, pulling her blanket up to her chin as Mac snored beside her. The best part was yet to come, she knew. Tomorrow, Lenny Flowers was going to be in the town square signing autographs! Of the many sporting events her father had taken her to as a filly, batball had been one of her favorites. And no player more exciting to watch than the great Lenny Flowers.
Dash set her tape player and earphones on her nightstand and set her hopes even higher for tomorrow morning. She wasn't sure how she'd be able to get any sleep tonight.
Rainbow awoke from her fitful sleep early that day, springing out of bed and heading straight to the bathroom. Mac rolled over, pulling the blankets over him as if to shield himself from the early morning commotion. He cracked an eyelid, watching the steam billow out from underneath the door of Rainbow's bathroom.
He had never seen Dash do anything so enthusiastically this early in the morning unless it was preparing to tailgate a Wonderbolt show.
"Mac, get out of bed!" she shouted from beyond the door.
"Nuh uh..." he moaned, rolling over to face away from her.
"Don't make me come out there!"
He replied with another grunt, pulling his pillow over his head.
"I want to be the first in line! The first hundred ponies get a free signed poster!"
Rainbow didn't hear a reply. She cracked the door and peered out into her bedroom. Mac lay motionless beneath a mound of blankets and fluffy white pillows. Rainbow broke off a piece of the raincloud in her shower and floated it over him. It dumped cold rain over him, startling him awake before dissipating.
"Lets go, Mac!"
He shook the water from his mane, shooting a glare at the closed door of her bathroom before getting out of bed and heading to the kitchen.
As Mac ate a bowl of oats, Rainbow strode out into the kitchen. As Mac glanced up at her, he found something... unusual.
"Is that... are you wearin'... eyeshadow?"
Rainbow's cheeks lit a fiery red. "No!"
There was no denying it, but it wouldn't stop her from trying. Mac rolled his eyes, a tinge of jealousy in his heart.
"I'm too excited to eat! Hurry up so we can go!" Dash rushed him, pacing nervously around the kitchen.
"Alright, let's go." Mac had eaten enough. The faster they got this over with, the faster he could get his normal Rainbow back, not this squealing fangirl. It had been tough enough going to Wonderbolts shows with her.
Dash stopped at the door and turned to face Mac. "Thanks for coming with me."
Mac smiled. "What choice did Ah have?"
Rainbow playfully punched his chest, and followed it with a peck on the lips. "You didn't."
Macintosh climbed down the rope ladder leading from Rainbow's house while she fluttered down to the earth. Rainbow retrieved her Upod from her saddlebag and put in her headphones, hoping to catch up on the wisdom of one of her idols before she actually met him.
Chapter one: Why I'm the Best.
This is a question I've been asked more times than I can count. I was never surprised, lots of people suck ass, and want to stop. They figure, why not ask the guy who kicks ass, instead of sucking it? It's sound logic, but I don't have an answer for them. Why? Because kicking ass is something that comes as natural to me as I'm sure sucking on it comes to you. It'd be like trying to describe a sweet pair of tits to a blind pony. It just can't be done with the words in Equish. Maybe if I made one up it might. Fantaboobistic. Close, but not quite.
Anyway, all that linguistic shit aside, I'm great for a million reasons. But I'll try to keep this short so I can keep your attention span. I know kids today can't go ten seconds without sending pictures of their junk to each other on twatter or whatever that internet shit is called. The internet is good for two things, and two things only: porn and... more porn. The rest of that shit is for nerds.
Now, the first reason I'm great is because I was just fucking born that way. I mean, the genetic lottery is something that I won the power ball jackpot of. I got an arm like a canon and a cock that would make elephants jealous. I also have the mind of a fuckin' scientist. So if you don't have any of that, then there's nothing I can do for you in that department. You just gotta accept your spaghetti noodle of an arm and laughably small cock and move on.
Moved on? Good. The second reason, is my tireless work ethic. I almost gave up three or four times when writing this. In fact, I just shouted most of this into a tape recorder over a three-day-weekend. I paid some guy to write it down, and then I got paid again to read it for this audiobook. That's what a good work ethic will get for you. I got paid twice for the same thing. Anyway, once you set your mind to something, you can't ever stop until you get it. No matter how many ponies tell you 'no' or 'stop' or 'that's illegal'. Those are all just words, and words have never stopped Lenny Flowers. I will pursue something until I have it, be that a major league contract, or a fat hayseed sandwich. And if Subneigh still wants to talk about that sandwich shop I tore up after they jacked up my sandwich, they can go fuck themselves because those charges were dropped.
Anyway, when I pitched for Trotlanta, I knew no matter how many groupies threw themselves at me, I couldn't stop until I'd banged them all. And that's just what I did. The point of all this is, if you want something, you gotta go out there and take it. Ain't nobody gonna give it to you. And if they do give it to you, ask them why the hell they didn't give it to you sooner.
The next reason I'm so un-fucking-believably great is that I won't compromise. Compromise is for fairies and the Prench. I once had a weight lifting coach that insisted I hit the gym every other day. I told him 'You and those weights can go fuck off somewhere. I ain't lifting that shit! It's heavy. Why the hell do I need to lift weights when I can throw a 98 mile-an-hour fastball?' He didn't have an answer for that. That might be because I left the room right after I said it, but that's irrelevant. The truth of the matter is this, when you compromise, you fail. Not only do you not get everything you want, that other jerk gets some of what he wants! Fuck him! This is your world, and you should get what you want! I once wanted a tiger as a pet. Did I let things like laws or ethics or any of that scholarly bullshit stop me? Hell no! I ordered two out of the Skymall magazine and that bad boy was delivered in two weeks! It turns out you can't ship two tigers in the same crate without an antelope or whatever it is they eat, because they'll end up eating each other. Regardless, one tiger was better than none! And I kept Mr. Mistoffelees until that stupid neighbor kid decided it would be cool to see what being mauled by a tiger felt like. Anyway, long lawsuit short, I got rid of him and paid for the kids new legs or whatever.
The point is this, compromise should not even be a word in your vocabulary. Erase it right now, and never listen to this chapter again, or at least creatively edit it to where the c-word is cut out.
Rainbow removed her headphones and stored them in her saddlebag. The bookstore in the center of town was just around the corner! Dash's heart beat hard in her chest. Would the line already be a mile long? Two miles? She was kicking herself for not just camping out in front of the store last night like she wanted to. If not for a certain red stallion who just loved sleeping under the stars but hated doing it on a sidewalk.
As she turned the corner, her heart skipped a beat. A banner hung from the bookstore's facade, announcing the chance to meet the great Lenny Flowers! And yet, there was no line! At first she thought she had the wrong date, but according to the flyer, this was it!
She let out a squeal normally reserved for the Wonderbolt autograph line and raced to the door. Mac rolled his eyes and sighed, trotting along behind her.
"Ohmygosh ohmygosh he's here!" she stammered.
Mac opened the door for her and she nervously fluttered inside. Once in the tiny annex, she turned to Mac. "How does my mane look? Is this stupid eye gunk okay?"
"Darlin', ya look fine. Now go meet this feller so I can go back to bed."
She gave him another, less playful punch in the shoulder. "I don't complain when we go to those dumb country music festivals."
Mac opened his mouth to reply, but couldn't find words before she entered the store. Mac paused to look at one of the many posters of this griffon posted around the bookstore. He was a tall, muscular athlete posing with a batball in one hand and the cudgel in the other. The griffon on the poster simply oozed confidence. Mac followed Rainbow Dash inside and looked upon the player he'd been dragged out of bed to see.
There, behind a table with a huge stack of pictures sat her idol, the bored, hunched and mildly overweight, Lenny-fucking-Flowers.
Author's Note
This was a long time in the making, and it's been on the shelf for a while. Figured I'd toss it out there and see the reaction in regards to continuing it. Anyway, your thoughts below, if you would!
