Quest for the Holy Hot Dog, Or, Spike Goes Postal on Some Bitch Ass Avians

by Trickquestion

Spike Busts Some Caps

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The little dragon stood, fuming with impotent rage as he watched the city bird glide away with HIS food, seemingly waging its tail feathers to taunt the theft victim. His little clawed hands bent into fists, and his eyes narrowed as raw rage consumed his entire form.

"Not today..." he muttered to himself, glancing around to ensure his friends weren't paying attention to him. They were not. With resolve in his heart, Spike burst into a run, chasing the bird as fast as his stubby little legs would carry him.

After about a minute of running, the angry dragon quickly realized he was losing the sticky feathered thief. "Need to go faster..." He muttered while glancing around. His eyes fell on a taxi carriage on the side of the road, that a passenger was attempting to board. Spike used the last of his energy to sprint forward, performing a running leap into the equine propelled transport and grabbed the reigns.

"Follow that bird!" He yelled, pointing an accusing claw at the offending avian.

The driver snorted. "Just what do you think you're doing, you snot nosed little punk. Get out of here before..." His next words were cut off by a frightened scream, as Spike had produced a handgun and planted it against the back of the driver's neck.

"Oh, you think you hard nigga? You think you hard!? Bitches don't know shit about how hard I am! I'm harder then diamonds!" Spike yelled while jabbing the stallion with his gun. "Now drive nigga, drive!"

As the carriage speed down the streets, breaking numerous traffic violations, Spike thought back to how he acquired the weapon.

It was during the Dragon Migration, right after Spike had earned the respect of his fellow dragons. A blue dragon in a trenchcoat and fedora approached. "Hey little drake, how you hanging? He had asked.

"Hi there, I'm Spike!" The young one announced cheerfully, happy to make another dragon friend.

"Since you new around here, let me introduce myself. I'm stretch, the dragon all the scaly home boys ought to know. Let me show you why..."

With that, the new dragon opened his coat, revealing the inside to be stocked with a huge variety of ranged weaponry. "Fire breath is nice and all, but sometimes you need a solid piece to cap any Dova-bitches that try and wreck your shit. First one's free kido, so take your pick."

Spike was torn from memory lane by the blaring of sirens. Police carriages were on them!

"Uh, I think we should slow down..." The driver stuttered.

"Who are you more scared of, them, or me!" Spike said back while prodding him with the gun for emphases. "Keep driving!"

The high speed chase came to a sudden end, however, when another police carriage cut Spike off at an upcoming intersection. The taxi couldn't swerve fast enough, and a ten carriage pile up ensued.

After a minute of rising smoke, Spike crawled out of the wreck, battered and bruised but far from beaten. He searched the skies, and saw his target flying to the top of one of the cities many sky scrapper. The determined dragon picked up a police carbine sent flying in the crash, and charged towards the building.

It was another quiet day at the offices of Fjord Carriages. Not even the upcoming release of the latest model (with more Humanpower then any other vehicle on the market) could rouse the low level employees from the drudgery of office work. Not even a pissed off dragon with a carbine could do that.

Spike forced his way to the customer service desk and jumped up so to face the secretary eye to eye. "What's the fastest way to the roof!?"

"Please take a number, sir/madam, and wait to be called up, your business is important to us." She droned nonchalantly. "Number 381, please approach the desk."

An equally soulless seeming stallion began approaching the desk, and Spike decided to cut some red tape but busting a cap in that stallion's kneecap. The bleeding drone had his ticket snatched from him, and could only drone "You'll be hearing from my lawyer." as a monotone response.

Spike slammed it onto the desk and repeated his question, getting "All public elevators go up to the 70th floor. The remaining floors can only be accessed by company executives or maintenance crews with authorizing passes." Spike glared and stormed away. "Thank you for choosing Fjord Carriages. Number 382, please approach the desk."

Spike stormed through the crowds and reached the elevator, sliding through just as the doors were closing. After going up about three floors, some practical FUCKING jokester of a mare decided it'd be funny to hit every button on her way out. Needless to say, she got turned into Swiss cheese.

And so Spike endured an agonizing twenty minute elevator ride, set to that scale peeling music. When he finally arrived at the 70th floor, he found himself on a showroom floor, and the company spokestallion was delivering the sales pitch of the new model to a crowd of investors.

"It's the ultimate display of assertiveness, mares and stallions, the vehicle that drives itself! You don't need to talk to show that you rock, when you're behind the wheel of this bad boy!" Iron Will spoke, describing the first horseless carriage ready for mass production. "I'm not a corporate shill, I'm Iron Will! It doesn't matter how undersized and emasculated your penis is, this vehicle has space in the back for you to bang the hordes of bitches that will flock, to your cock, when you are driving this bad motherfucker!"

None of them seemed to notice Spike, who had become transfixed with a sight outside the window. It was that motherbucking bird, flittering from this building to the next one over.

And it still had the crumbs of his motherbucking hot dog in its claws.

Spike marched up to the prototype and shoved his way inside, firing it up with the keys conveniently still in the ignition. He felt the power of the machine rev beneath his feet.

"Now hold on their little man, if you think that you..." Iron Will began one of his trademark rhyming boasts, but Spike cut him off by flooring the gas and smashing the corporate shill aside. The roaring machine smashed through the windows, propelling Spike into the open sky. As the car began to fall, Spike shot out the windshield and jumped towards the building, barely closing the gap and finding purchase in the walls with his razor claws. Fire burning in his heart, Spike began to climb.

Spike continued to climb, undaunted by the sound of sirens far below, or the site of a bunch of ponies having a shoot out with a bare-hoove stallion on one of the floors he climbed past. At long last, he finally reached the top.

He could see, across the roof, the nest of that feathered rat. Sneaking up ever so silently, Spike readied his pistol, and announced himself by shooting one of the bird's wings.

"So, you thought you could steal from Spike the motherbucking dragon, did you!?" He screamed, clenching the wounded bird in his clawed hand a squeezing. "Well let me tell you something you winged rat, I am not taking your shit today!" His eyes narrowed and he got very close to the animal. "Where. Is. My. Hotdog?'

Despite the seeming impossibility of it, the bird began sweating bullets. Spike looked over to his nest, and then his eyes grew soft. A baby bird and three unhatched eggs sat in the nest, the crumbs of his long lost snack speckling the baby's ruffled coat. Spike set the bird back in its nest.

"You were trying to feed your family, weren't you little guy?' Spike asked in a calm tone, and the bird nodded back a yes. "Well if that's the case, you guys can keep my hotdog." Relief enveloped the avian's face.

"I'm in the mood for an omelet anyhow."

Spike became aware that the police had caught up with him. Uniformed pegasi circled overhead, the door to the roof was being pounded down, and armored ponies were scaling the building. Spike narrowed his eyes, reloaded the carbine, and made a running charge for the edge, firing wildly and screaming "Yippie Ka Yeah!"


It was time for the princess's friends to depart from Manehatten. They stayed a little bit longer then expected, as Twilight needed to instill some discipline in all the citizens who failed to acknowledge her status as royalty, but now it was time to go.

Trotting along to the train station, they passed a hospital, and didn't even notice Spike leave its doors while flipping a gem to the staff behind him until they caught up to their group.

"Oh, there you are Spike. We're on our way to board the train." Twilight said. "Did you remember to pack a snack for the trip home?"

"Eh, don't worry about it Twi. I'm full."


Author's Note

Special thanks go to Derpibooru user JP who proposed the idea behind this fanfic.