Fallout: Equestria- The Road Home

Chapter 7: A Night On The Town

"Feed a buck for free and he'll be back again for more. Feed a buck a bullet and you won't hear from him next time."

As I took a long swig off my Buckweiser the delightful smell of grilled iguana drifted across the room, finally making its way to my nose. The bar was bustling with ponies of all shapes and sizes, some celebrating with friends while other stared down sadly into an empty glass. A short chocolate brown mare with a smooth white mane stood behind the bar juggling drink orders and manning the large metal grill. To my left Tip and Top sat in a busted red booth with Lockout and seemed to be having a lot of fun at his expense. Tip would keep him occupied while Top threw all sorts of small objects while his back was turned. Tip would do the same right as he turned his back to her. As with all little filly games, it soon became boring and the two sisters hopped up and out the door, no doubt to go cause some mischief elsewhere. Across the bar a group of mercenaries sat quietly, nursing a bottle of scotch and eyeing my ranger friends.

The captain sat with his team in the booth two spaces beside the mercs. As he did quite often, the captain steadily puffed on a fat brown stogie, the pungent odor mixing with the fragrant scent of the bar food. Golden stood outside the booth, sipping on a mixed drink and carrying on with her squad mates. This was my first time seeing her without her power armor and I have to say her body matched the degree of stunning excellence she shown in combat. She wore a tight black one-piece suit that looked tailored for a spec ops soldier rather than for under armor protection. I wondered earlier what they wore underneath their armor and I guess the mystery’s solved now. The suit looked almost painted on and showed every detail of her figure, from her cut shoulders all the way down to her beautiful plo— hold it right there. I got a little bit carried away right there so please excuse me.

A cute green unicorn mare gingerly trotted over towards my table levitating a serving tray close over head. With a smile she sat down the tray and presented me with my food.

“Here’s your iguana on a stick and an extra Buckweiser. That’ll be ten caps,” the waitress said in a flirty voice.

“Thank ya miss,” I replied as I retrieved a sack of bottle caps from my saddlebags. “Go get yourself something nice,” I said as I pulled out fifteen caps and sat them on her tray.

“Thanks mister, I’ve never got a tip before!” It was clear I made her day as she skipped off back towards the kitchen to retrieve another tray of food. I reckon the normal patrons of this bar must be pretty stingy if a mare like her had never received a tip. I lifted the grilled iguana to my mouth and took a big bite. One thing I couldn’t understand; if ponies weren’t supposed to eat other creatures then why did Celestia make them taste so good? Upon finishing my meal I retrieved a smoke from my bag and watched as an old gray buck slowly walked toward the jukebox in the far corner. With a monkey wrench in mouth, he beat the machine a couple times until the speakers began to play. Over the sound of the bar a soft voice filled the bar accompanied by a guitar and harmonica. The voice was quite familiar as my father was a huge Marety Robbins fan. He had every record on holotape and would play them for me when I was younger. The sweet melody enveloped the room as the sad song poured out from the rusty old jukebox.

As I walked out in the streets of Laredo

As I walked out in Laredo one day

I spied a young cowboy wrapped up in white linen

All wrapped in white linen as cold as the clay

I see by your outfit that you are a cowboy

These words he did say as I proudly walked by

Come sit down beside me and hear my sad story

Got shot in the breast and I know I must die

Go fetch me some water, a cool cup of water

To cool my parched lips then the poor cowboy said

Before I returned his spirit had left him

Had gone to his maker, the cowboy was dead

Oh, beat the drum slowly and play the fife lowly

Sing the death march as you carry me along

Take me to the valley then lay the sod o’er me

I’m a young cowboy and I know I’ve done wrong

With the conclusion of the song a familiar stallion’s voice boomed from the machine.

Good Evening Wasteland! This is your official voice of the wasteland DJ-Pon3, bringing you the news no matter how bad it hurts. My little ponies have been really busy recently so get ready for some news! Well children it’s official, Stable 23 is open for business. Me and my expert news team don’t know what to make of it but the reports of this young buck keep coming in. I’m tellin’ ya kids this buck must have balls of steel. A local scavenger out near the Mega-Lo-Mare shopping center saw the buck along with a few others walk right in like they owned the place. He was nice enough to give us a full interview.

“It was ahmazin’ I tell ya. I was out lookin’ fer some good scrap out near the shoppin center. Looked like the raiders were out on a picnic or sumthin and them boys just walked on in like it wasn’t nuthin. Looked like they was bout to leave when the whole camp came back. Needless ta say they were pretty pissed at their unwanted houseguests. That was when all hell broke loose. Bullets and explosives was flyin through the air an they were heavily outnumbered. Somehow they came out on top after bout ten minutes of fightin. I tell ya what, thems some tough sons of bitches if I ever seent one. If you’ll excuse me I’ve got a magic lesson with cave rat to get to. He’s one gifted young rodent.”

You heard it here first kids, Mega-Lo-Mare is up for salvaging, just watch out for any stragglers that think the place still belongs to em. Well that’s it for tonight’s broadcast and I want everypony to remember one thing; the only good raider’s a dead raider.

From across the bar my comrades were looking at me, smiling and giggling, as I felt my face get a little warm. Lockout hadn’t even noticed the broadcast and was feverishly typing away on his pipbuck. As I took the final drag from my cigarette and mashed it into the ashtray, Golden began making her way over toward me carrying a bottle whiskey and two shot glasses.

“Now that you’re done sippin’ your brew, you ready for a real drink?” She said as she placed both glasses on the table.

“Double or nothin’” I spat back, knowing Golden wasn’t one to turn down a challenge.

“Ooo, looks like some bucks got their big boy pants on tonight. Fine, you’re on,” she said while grabbing two more fresh shot glasses from the bar. “I hope your stomach is made of lead cuz that’s the only way you’re gonna drink me under the table,” Golden boasted confidently.

“Well I guess we’ll just have to see. Let’s hope you haven’t written a check that pretty plot can’t cash,” I teased. Right after a swishy blonde tail swung around and slapped my face, leaving a few red marks. She looked at me and giggled while pouring our shots. After she finished we both raised our glasses and toasted to the good life, because everypony knows in the wasteland you’ve gotta enjoy the small things.

*** *** ***

Two hours and Celestia knows how many shots later the bartender sounded the last call. Most of the more depressing patrons got their last drink for the road and started to clear out leaving Golden and I alone with the mercenaries and the bar staff. By this point we both were a mess, a small mountain of liquor bottles and beer cans waited to be cleared from the table beside us.

Earlier tonight Golden had introduced me to an earth pony game that was a load of fun. She called the game ‘Darts’ and might as well have been the creator with how good she was. Like most bar games my drunkenness made the game exponentially more fun but also much more difficult. The game was played with six darts and a circular board that hung on the wall. The board had quite a few different interlocking rings with point values stamped beside them. We both took turns tossing our darts at the board and tallying our scores each round. If I was allowed to use my magic I might have been able to put up a fight but one of the rules was no magic. My first toss was a complete miss going half way across the bar and hitting a bottle of vodka (which I had to pay for) and spilling its contents on the shelf which produced a chuckle from the mercs in the far corner. Golden claimed it was a ‘mulligan’ and said I could redo the shot. After three rounds the loser had to drink and I think we all know who was doing the losing tonight.

“Well guess we better be headin’ out,” I slurred before letting out a belch that could have shook Canterlot Castle to its foundation. Golden gave a displeased look before her face cringed at the foul odor my mouth was radiating. I guess hard liquor and iguana didn’t mix very well.

“Yea we need to get your drunk ass home. You look like you could pass out at any minute,” she said before chuckling for a moment. I lit up a smoke as we rose up and headed for the door. While we walked by, the leader of the mercs uttered a distasteful comment from their booth.

“Hey little filly, why don’t you come over her and let some real bucks show ya a good time,” He said with a smug smile on his face. This buck was one big son of a bitch. His coat was a deep red with a short brown and black mane shaved into a mohawk. He was an earth pony and stood almost a full head above me and had three scars running down the side of his head. Full of liquid courage I spun around and gave my best tough guy stance that I could manage in my drunken stupor.

“What the fuck did you just say to her!” I shouted across the room. At this point I had already realized this was a bad idea but there’s no backing down now. The buck rose up from his booth and trotted swiftly towards me.

“I was just telling yer lady friend to drop your ass and get with some real bucks. What are you gonna do about it?” His voice boomed through the small bar despite him not elevating his voice like I just had.

“I’m gonna buck your fuckin’ teeth in, that’s what!” I yelled before charging toward him. My advance was slowed by the sound of a shotgun being fired. I stopped and from behind the bar the chocolate mare was floating some kind of shotgun with a drum magazine in front of her.

“It ain’t mah problem if’n you two wanta kill each other, but ya ain’t doin’ it in mah bar,” she said as she kept the gun trained on the buck and me. We both nodded to each other and made our way outside.

When outside I took my position a couple meters from the huge red buck. He stared into my eyes as if he was trying to burn a hole straight through me. A few puffs of breath shot out of his nose in an attempt to scare me. Our friends stepped aside and watched eagerly to see this hoof-to-hoof battle. With a single nod the fight was on. I charged toward him and swung my back end around trying to buck him in the face. Due to my lack of coordination I ended up throwing myself into a summersault and crashed to the ground. From the sidelines I heard his two mates having a good laugh at my expense. I got to my hooves and saw the buck having a laugh as well.

“What in the filly fuck was that shit. You should really learn ta hold yer booze,” he taunted before making a thrust towards me. The buck launched an over hoof blow that caught me on the side of my head and rattled my brain around by shear force. I stumbled away and struggled to make the world stop spinning. I made a mad dash in his direction and tried my spinning buck again. This one made contact but he caught it in his forehooves and tossed me away. I fell to the ground with my face and scraped across the ground, picking up a good amount of dirt in my mouth. I got up and spat the mixture of dirt and rocks from my mouth and centered back up. Direct attacks weren’t working; I had to think of a different plan.

The large buck barreled towards me at high speed and tried to knock me to the ground. I narrowly avoid his tackle only to be caught off guard when he bucked the shit out of me right afterwards. I already felt battered and beaten as I rose once more. Think Crack Shot, think! He must be telegraphing his moves some way. The red buck was hulking towards me again and fast. As he got a few hooves away, I jumped to the left and planted my back hooves deep in his stomach as he passed by. He tumbled over and rolled on the ground then quickly shot back to his feet unfazed. I took the opportunity to strike first as I ran toward him. As I got closer, I faked like I would try the spinning buck for the third time and watched as he prepared a high counter. I slinked down and did a sweep kick that caught him completely off guard. He rose to his hooves and shot me a look of pure rage.

“I’m gonna fuck you up little buck!” He said as he withdrew a short sword from a sheath that was tied to his barding. I quickly reached for my saddleba--- What? Where the fuck are my saddlebags!? That’s right, I’m a dumb ass. I must have taken them off inside to get comfortable during our darts game. Note to self; 1. Don’t ever take off your bags. 2. Don’t get this drunk ever again. I frantically searched my surroundings for something, anything I could hit this mother fucker with. I spied a short piece of rebar sticking out of a pile of cement fragments. I reached out with magic to grab it but was only met with a short *Pomf* from my horn along with a small fizzle. Well isn’t this just spectacular, no weapons, no magic. It must be my lucky day.

I raced over to retrieve the rebar pole from the pile. I clenched it in my teeth and tasted the rust and dirt that coated its length. It was such a strange feeling gripping a weapon with your mouth instead of a horn. The buck came towards me with a few short slashes, which I blocked with the bar. Every time the weapons met I could feel the pole grinding away at my teeth. At this rate I’ll look like I have a raider for a dentist by morning! While he charged towards me I held my ground, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. The buck sent a volley of slashes low towards my legs while I made a big jump to avoid them. He was getting sloppy and I could see it in his form. As I landed I swung the pole around and slammed it into his hind legs. I made great contact but didn’t cause any significant harm as he stumbled and regained his footing.

We danced around each other for a few moments, being careful not to get too close. I noticed that one end of my pole had been sharpened some how, and I could probably use this to my advantage. The buck approached me with another volley of swings; these aimed more towards my mid section. I blocked and jumped back, prepared for my counter attack. I swung for the fences and cracked him square in the mouth causing him to stumble. He quickly dashed at me as I hopped to the side and cracked him across the back. He turned around and I could swear I saw fire in his eyes. The furious buck raced towards me as I falsely telegraphed a low attack. He got about five meters from me when he shot into the air to avoid my low attack. Hook, line, and sinker. I stood the pole up with the sharpened end facing the buck. I saw the look in his eyes as he landed atop the shaft. It pierced through his mid section and shot out his back, bringing pieces of organs and raw tissue with it. I released the pole as I watched the buck fall to the ground and began to bleed out rapidly; jerking rapidly for a few seconds like a fish out of water then abruptly stopping. His fellow mercs raced to his side but they knew he wasn’t coming back from that. They both rose to their hooves and trotted right up to me.

“You just fucked with the wrong company. This isn’t the end of this; not by a long shot,” one said as they hoisted him on to their shoulders. From there I watched as they wandered off carrying the fallen buck while I lit up another smoke.

“Thanks for that,” Golden said as she trotted towards me. “But you didn’t have to do it. I can handle myself just fine.” She said as wrapped some bandages around my fresh wounds.

“I know but that buck had it coming,” I said between puffs off my victory Mareboro. “And besides didn’t you enjoy the show?”

“I suppose it was quite a fight. You didn’t look so good at the beginning. And it doesn’t help you just pissed off one of the strongest mercenary companies in the area,” She said in a slightly scalding tone.

“Well I never was one for makin friends so I doubt I’ll lose any sleep over those goons. They seemed like a bunch of two bit thugs to me,” I said proudly.

“Well at least they’re better than raiders. Speaking of sleep, I think I should get you home before you try to fight the whole town,” she said with a giggle before giving me a small peck on the cheek. My heart pounded vigorously like Pinkie Pie herself was throwing a party in there. I guess I was right about it being my lucky day.

Note: level up Unarmed (35)

Perk added: Squirmy Little Bastard – Like a rat you’re hard to catch and manage to work your way out of some sticky situations. When an enemies STR is higher than yours by at least two points you receive a two point bonus to agility.

(A special thanks to Kkat for creating this amazing universe and QuackmanBrony for helping out with proofreading/editing)