The Poncho Chronicles III: Amsterdam

by BRyeMC

Rating: teen
Tags: My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Alternate Universe, Original Character, Spike, Random, Adventure
Length: 26240

A year after their adventures in South Beach, Patel decides to plan a trip with the boys to the great city of Amsterdam.

Amsterdam is a very unique city.

Whether it's the myriad of coffee shops, the canals that control the tour routes, or even the infamous Red-Light District, one can't ever be bored of the city. Every member of the group has a different reason and goal to come to this city, but at the day's end, they all know how to have a great time and hang out together. Just like the old days. Little did they know, it would also be their last friendly soirée together.

Published 2014-02-08 04:50:06 UTC
Last updated 2014-03-12 19:57:53 UTC

We're Getting the Band Back Together!

“Dudes, we’re getting the band back together!” yelled Patel excitedly.

“Wait, what?” Spike, as he walked through the door into Patel and Wahlburn’s apartment room. “What the hell did I miss?”

Spike normally lived in Ponyville, but a couple months ago, decided to leave it due to a ‘revelation’. This revelation, of course, being hanging out with his now best friend, Wahlburn.

”We’re going to Amsterdam, getting a shit ton of weed, then selling it for profit back here,” said Wahlburn. He picked up a stack of cash from the pile on the table. He examined it and placed it back down after a few seconds. “We are running out of supplies.”

At first, Spike just stared at him, confused on what he just said. “That the most dipshit retarded idea I’ve ever heard, but I need a vacation so let’s go.”

“That’s the spirit,” said Patel, approving of his answer. “First we need to gather the group and get our tickets.”

Wahlburn got up and walked towards the apartment’s bar. He began to mix several drinks together. “Yep, we’re trying to leave first thing tomorrow to convince everyone else to come. Depending on their moods, this could take a few hours or the whole day.” Satisfied, he stopped mixing and drank the newly made liquid. After a first taste, he chugged the whole drink down in one go.

“Alright, sounds cool with me. Let’s watch some “Walking Dead”, then I’m going to bed.” Patel and the duo relaxed on the couch and finished up their program. Afterwards, they went to bed dreaming of their adventures to come in Amsterdam.

Morning eventually came, and the three readied for the day ahead. Everyone was tired, as none of them got sufficient sleep the night before.

“Alright,” yawned Spike, “Who are we getting first?”

“Tyrone first I guess, he’s in jail so we need to go before visiting hours are over.” Patel took out a map to begin tracing a path to Tyrone’s current location.

“He’s in jail again?” exclaimed Spike, “I mean, I shouldn’t be surprised, but he was just released not to long ago.”

“That’s what I heard.”

“What for? Do you know?”

Patel shrugged. “Not sure, you’ll have to ask him.”

The three entered Wahlburn’s car and drove off to the correctional facility. The trip took nearly an hour, as the only way to the facility was through back roads. After reaching their destination, they got out of the car and walked the long path to the visiting center. Guards were stationed all around the main building and grounds that they were all intimidated at first. Once inside, they made their way to the desk to call for Tyrone. They gave a guard the name to search for.

“We have three hundred and twenty seven ‘Tyrones’, sir. You need to be more specific.” The guard sighed while scrolling through the computer database.

“Well shit, uh, ‘Tyrone King’ then,” said Spike.

“Seven of those,” replied the guard.

“Christ, what the hell?” Spike slumped back into the chair in disappointment, trying to think of something else to help them. “Uh, the really black one that says ‘shiieeett’ all of the time.”

“Oh, that guy.” The guard laughed. “Okay I’ll get him for you, follow me.”

The three were escorted to the visitors area and were told to wait. Eventually, Tyrone made his way out. He had a one hundred pound dumbbell in each hoof lifting away. His sleeves on his jumpsuit were also ripped off showing his massive biceps.

“Damn Tyrone, you’re huge!” said Spike in awe.

“Yeah, he’s been making some gains, I’m mirin’ brah,” replied Patel.

“What did you say?” asked Wahlburn. “What the fuck does that mean?”

“N-Nothing, it’s a long story.” Patel looked away to change the topic. “You look buff as hell though Tyrone.”

“Yeah mane, I’ve had a whole year to lift. Can’t let that chance go to waste, you feel me?” Tyrone still had his ghetto talking ways that everybody loved. However, they noticed that his time in prison made his accent more noticeable.

“Why are you back in here anyway?” asked Patel.

“Well, bout 12 and a half mumfs ago,” began Tyrone, while curling the dumbbells, “one o’my bitches didn’t git muh money. Dat pissed me off, so I slapped a hoe. That bitch had the nerve to call the po-lice. I do get out tommorow, doe.” He remained curling even after his tale.

“Great, we’ve got a plan to go to Amsterdam, get weed, then come back,” said Spike, “you in?”

“We flyin’ right?” asked Tyrone, still curling.

Patel took out his planned trip notebook and began to read and point to things on the paper. “Yeah, straight to London then a layover to Amsterdam. This would be cheapest and fastest. Plus, London detours are nice too.”

“Coach?”

“Nah man, first class.”

“Shiiiiieeeeettt,” said Tyrone, as he slowed down his curling a notch.

“So, you in or not? We have to go get the others.” Wahlburn quickly pulled out his car keys. The others ignored his impatienceness.

“Yeah, why not,” said Tyrone, “I can bring these wit me right?”

Patel and the others knew he was talking about his weights, “Yeah that’s fine, bring what you want as long as they aren’t explosives. Meet us at our apartment at noon tomorrow.”

Suddenly, Tyrone gave a grim look on his face. “I guess I can’t go witchu guys now.”

“What? Why not?” asked a shocked Patel.

“Cuz I can’t be on that plane with these explosive guns!” Tyrone flexed his two arms and gave a laugh.

The group gave a sigh. “God fucking dammit,” whispered Spike as he and Wahlburn began to walk out of the visitor center. “Just meet us at noon, alright?” said Patel.

“Aight.”

After leaving the center and down the long path, the three entered Wahlburn’s car again. Before leaving the parking lot, Wahlburn turned on some tunes. After a few minutes on the back road, and after a random fifties song ended, he spoke up. “So, who’s next on our hit list?”

Patel shrugged. “I’m not sure. I’m thinking Cannon as he’s probably not doing anything. He’s probably still burnt from a party like always. I’m also fairly certain the others will be home anyways.” They all laughed and enjoyed the radio for the remainder of the short trip to the apartment building where many of their friends lived in Verona.

Once there, they entered the lobby of the main apartment building and went up to the fourth floor. Since Sticky, Rivs, Clyde, and Cannon all had rooms on the same floor in this building, they decided to check who was home. To no avail, nobody answered their doors.

“Well, this fucking sucks. What the hell lead to we have now?” asked Wahlburn sitting down against the wall.

“I have no idea. I can probably guess where three of them are, but for Cannon, I could have sworn he would be here.” Patel took out a notebook and began to sketch some drawings while thinking of a new plan.

“We could go get others while we figure out Cannon’s location,” said Spike after a few moments of silence. Wahlburn and Patel looked at each other and nodded. They made their way back downstairs and into the parking lot. Before entering the car, Patel looked across the street at the nearby park and saw a pony sitting under the tree. After taking a closer examination with squinted eyes, Patel realized it was Cannon. He told the others and ran over to him.

“Cannon!” yelled Patel standing in front and looking down at him.

Cannon sat there for a few moments like he was dazed and in a state of confusion. He looked up and saw Patel. “Patel? My dude....”

Patel saw that his eyes were pinkish and lost. “God damn it Cannon, again?”

“W-What?” Cannon laughed. Soon, Spike ran over and also laughed at him.

“Dude, you are so stoned right now!”

Cannon glared at them. “Shut the fuck up. What do you guys want?”

Patel took out his notebook and showed Cannon the big ‘Amsterdam’ that he wrote a few minutes ago. “We are leaving tomorrow, you coming?”

Cannon didn’t answer, but continued his gaze towards the sky. After a good five minutes, he shouted, “Sure!”

“Alright, man. Cool. Meet us at our house at noon tomorrow.” Patel waved goodbye and headed back across the street towards Wahlburn with Spike.

“You think he will remember?” asked Spike.

“Nah.”

Once they arrived at Wahlburn’s car they quickly got in as Wahlburn already had the car started. “Is Cannon good for tomorrow?” he asked them.

“Yeah, well, we guess. We’ll find out tomorrow,” said Spike.

“Great. Well, who’s next?” asked Wahlburn, “Also, can we travel in the least amount of trips possible. I’m trying to not go all around the damn country and waste my gas.”

“Good thinking,” said Patel. “I guess we are going to Canterlot now, as everyone else should be there.”

Wahlburn sighed. “They better be.” After a half hour drive, the trio arrived at the capital of the country. Seeing how the area was much larger than their small town of Verona, Patel took out the city map he bought when he came to the city a month ago to watch his friends play for the Crusaders.

“Let’s start at the PH. Jeb works there pretty much every breathing second.” Both Wahlburn and Spike sighed at Patel’s suggestion.

“Seriously, Jeb? Why the fuck do we want him to go with us?” complained Wahlburn.

“Yeah, I agree. Jeb is a loser,” said Spike.

“Well,” began Patel, “even if most-”

“All.”

“Okay, all of us hate him, it still wouldn’t be a band reunion without him.”

“We aren’t even in a band!” yelled Spike.

“It’s a phrase you douche!” said Patel who stared at Spike darkly. After Patel calmed down, he continued. “Anyways, it’s right near the arena, which so happens, Sticky, Rivs, and Clyde will be.”

“Fine,” said Wahlburn and Spike disappointingly. They made their way downtown, walking fast, to hurry up their scavenger hunt as daylight was in its descend. As the trio crossed the street across from the restaurant, another pony ran into them.

“Why look who it is! Mis amigos del Norte!” said Fluffy Johnson helping himself and the others up off the ground.

“Fluffy J!” yelled Patel, “we haven’t seen you in a long time, how the fuck are you doing?”

“Bueno.”

“Enough with the bullshit!” yelled Wahlburn, “if you speak another language you are a faggot.”

“Wow man, that’s going to piss a lot of ponies off,” said Spike.

“Yeah man, what the hell?” Fluffy turned away from Wahlburn and back towards Patel. ‘What’s his problem?”

“I don’t know man. Hey, I know this is sudden and all, but do you want to go to Amsterdam with us?”

“Sure, when?”

“Tomorrow.”

Fluffy looked at him in a nonchalant fashion and nodded. “I’ll be there.”

“Sweet, noon at our house tomorrow.”

After a quick goodbye, Patel, Wahlburn, and Spike then left him alone as they ran inside of the PH. The PH was one of those restaurants that usually only elderly ponies went to. Jeb told the group tales of the kinds of customers that ate at the PH daily. He also stated that it was basically an early retirement home, which the trio now saw that he was right.

“Welcome to the PH, how many?” asked one of the hostesses near the entrance. She had a nametag on, revealing her name as Ramen Noodles.

“We don’t want to eat your damn food. Where’s Jeb at?” asked Wahlburn, in an almost threatening voice.

“I’m sorry?”

Patel sighed and walked up to the counter. “He didn’t mean to yell, he tends to do that a lot. But in all seriousness, we need to talk to Jeb.”

“Well, he’s working right now in the back, so he probably can’t talk right now. I can give him a message though.”

At first, Patel was going to debate again to tell Jeb personally, but he decided that he wasn’t worth the hassle. “Yeah, that would be fine. Tell him to meet at Patel’s house at noon.” After she wrote down the message the hostess left for the back kitchen while the trio departed the restaurant. “That place is a complete buzzkill.”

“You said it,” said Spike. “The practice arena now?”

“Yeah, practice should be over by now so we should be able to get in.” The trio quickly made their way back to Wahlburn’s car. Patel directed Wahlburn to the arena and they all ran inside of the side, practice building connected to the main arena in the middle of the city. Once inside, they journeyed through the hallways until they reached the court. To their luck, Rivs and Sticky were there going against each other.

“Yo my dudes!” yelled Spike trying to get their attention. Both of them ignored him and continued going hard in the paint, doing crossovers, layups, and fades. Patel and Spike kept yelling their names and jumping around but they still ignored them. Pissed, Wahlburn ran on the court and blocked Rivs’ jumpshot.

“What the hell man?” asked Rivs.

“Stop ignoring us you damn bitches,” replied Wahlburn, “we are only trying to get your attention for ten minutes.”

“Sorry dude but we are on the ballin’ mindset right now.”

“Why you guys here anyway?” asked Sticky. “You wanna ball with us?”

“No, not really,” said Patel. “We wanted to know if you two wanted to go to Amsterdam with us tomorrow.”

“Amsterdam? That would be pretty cool,” said Rivs rubbing his chin.

“I concur. That would be pretty cool,” said Sticky agreeing with his friend for once.

“Alright, meet us at our place at noon tomorrow,” said Patel. “Oh, do you know where Clyde is?”

“Clyde? Nah man, haven’t seen him all day,” said Sticky.

“Didn’t you guys have practice today?” asked Wahlburn.

Sticky and Rivs both laughed. “Yeah we had practice, but do you honestly think he comes to them?”

“Well, yeah, I mean, that’s kind of a duty if you want to be great...”

Rivs laughed again. “Ever since he met CB down in South Beach and learned that CB never took practice seriously, he usually doesn’t bother with them. He mostly only does workout sessions with us, but for practice drills, he only comes around once in a blue moon.”

“Great...,” said Wahlburn. “I just wonder, where on this world he could be then. I’ll go start the car.”

“Wait,” said Sticky, “could you take us home? The bus rides take forever.”

Wahlburn sighed. “I guess....” The group of five left the practice arena and crammed inside of Wahlburn’s vehicle.

“Fuck, there’s no room in here!” yelled Spike. He was squished between Rivs and Sticky in the small back seats.

“Then grab on to someone’s back you fuck!” retorted Wahlburn.

Spike climbed onto Rivs and held on to him. “No homo man.”

“Nah, it’s good. We cool.”

After the quick road trip back to Sticky’s and Rivs’ building in Verona, they arrived at the closest parking spot near the main entrance. As they got out, they all had a look of shock on their faces as Clyde walked out of the building.

“Oh hey guys,” said Clyde.

“What the hell are you doing here?” asked Rivs.

“Uh. I live here?”

“You still live here?” said Sticky in wonder.

“Yeah, I still do, technically speaking. What are you guys doing anyway?”

“Well,” said Patel. “Last night, I thought of a real crazy idea.”

“What is it?” asked Clyde.

“This idea, is so crazy, that I decided to journey out all across the land, searching for my good friends that I haven’t really talked to in a very long time.”

“What the hell is your plan?” asked Clyde, more venomously than usual.

“We’re going to Amsterdam baby!” The group then began to high-five each other in excitement for the trip.

Clyde stared at them. “We’re, as in, you guys?”

“And you.” Patel and the others smiled.

“Oh. Well, I’m not going.” The rest of them all moaned in disbelief and disappointment at his answer.

“Oh, why the fuck am I not surprised that you aren’t going?” said Wahlburn. “Tell me, what are you going to do here that’s so much better than hanging out with some bros at Amsterdam?”

“Why the hell would I go to Amsterdam? All Amsterdam contains is drugs, hookers, and partying!”

“Exactly!” yelled everyone else simultaneously.

“Don’t be that guy that bails on our ‘Bro Night’ in Amsterdam for some slutty bitchy girl Clyde,” said Patel.

Clyde sighed. “If it makes you feel better, she won’t even be in town for the next week. She’s going on vacation with her family.”

“Oh no! What’s Clyde going to do now!” said Patel sarcastically.

Clyde smiled. “It’s called webcams and voice chat. Anyways, I’m going to go see her before she leaves. What time do you guys leave tomorrow?”

“Noon, but I don’t know why you care so much,” said Patel.

“Alright, whatever. See you later then.” Clyde bid them farewell and walked away from the condo.

“So, I guess we can count him out,” said Rivs.

“Yeah, I guess so,” said Patel. Rivs and Sticky left them as they wanted to rest up for tomorrow’s journey. The original trio sat in the parking lot talking about their trip.

“Are we forgetting someone?” asked Spike. “I feel like we are forgetting someone else.”

“Are you sure? We talked to Tyrone, Cannon, Jeb, Sticky and Rivs, and Clyde. Oh, we even got Fluffy. Who else is there?” They sat there thinking while watching the sun almost set in the distance. As the sun hit the horizon, the trio all yelled the name of the lone member of the group they have yet to contact: Poncho.

“Poncho!” they all yelled.

“Where the hell are we going to find him at?” asked Wahlburn. “Do you even know what he has been doing since last year?”

Patel shrugged. “I think he’s working for or with a potato chip factory outside of the town. We could see if he’s there.”

“I honestly don’t feel like wasting anymore gas today, especially for Poncho.”

“Well, what are we going to do? Forget about him?”

Spike and Wahlburn looked at each other and began giving reasons on why they should do just that.

“I don’t see why you want him to go, he eats all of our damn food.” Wahlburn got back inside his car and started it up. “I need to head to that gas station around here. Gotta refuel.”

“Why?” asked Spike. “We won’t be needing it for Amsterdam.”

“To get back home to rest and drive to the airport you idiot!”

“Chill man, damn.” Spike crawled up into the car as Patel also decided to jump in. They drove to the nearest gas station in town, which was nearly a mile away from the condo building Rivs and the others lived at. As Wahlburn pulled in, they saw a big rig carrying a cargo trailer with the logo and emblem of the same potato chip factory Poncho was apparently working at.

“I bet they are unpacking and restocking the shelves,” said Patel. “I wonder if the delivery guy knows about Poncho.”

“You could go in there and ask,” said Wahlburn. “I’m going to stay out here.”

Patel quickly jumped out of his car and walked inside the convenience store. He looked around and noticed a pony in the factory uniform around the snack aisle. “Hey, excuse me, but do you know a pony named Poncho?”

The sound of Patel’s voice made the worker jolt and turn around quickly as if he was startled. As Patel took a closer look, he saw that the worker was Poncho himself.

“Poncho! What’s going on?” Patel extended his hoof.

“Hey man,” said Poncho nervously, “did you wash that?”

“What?”

“Nevermind, what brings you here?”

“Well,” began Patel.

“Hey! I thought I told you to stop using my catchphrase.” Poncho looked at him seriously, but Patel knew he wouldn’t do anything about it.

“Whatever. Anyways, long story short, we are all going to Amsterdam tomorrow and you are coming with us, as you are the last one on our list.”

The mention of ‘being the last one on the list’ made Poncho extremely happy and he gave a short chuckle. “I get it. You saved the coolest dude you knew for last.”

“Yeah...that’s exactly what I did. You in or not? We have a big day ahead of us tomorrow.”

“Sure I guess.”

“Great, remember this. Noon. Tomorrow. My house.”

Poncho nodded. “Got it.” As Patel was leaving, Poncho stopped him and spoke up. “Wait, is Pinkie Pie and the others going.

Patel turned around and began laughing. After a few chuckles, he glared right at Poncho. “Why in this world, that is illuminated by the great Moon, would any of them go?”

“Well, I mean-”

“No, and for another thousand times, no. I don’t like them and most of the others don’t like them either. I don’t care either that Twilight is now some ‘bigshot’. Please for the love of everything good in this world, don’t turn into another Clyde. It’s because of that douche I even have to associate with them on few occasions.”

“Well gosh dang almighty then.” Poncho then disappeared behind the aisles, looking for more food to buy and eat on his break. Patel walked out of the store and back to Wahlburn and Spike who were waiting on him.

“So, do you know where Poncho is?” asked Spike upon his return.

“Yeah, he was in there, he’s going.”

“Finally, we are done,” sighed Wahlburn in relief. “Let’s head home. Tomorrow is going to be fucking awesome.”

“Yeah it is!” yelled Spike in excitement. They quickly drove home, anticipating the adventures that would soon befall them.

The Boys Are (Outta) Town

Noon the following day quickly approached as Spike, Wahlburn and Patel sat against a low wall outside of their apartment waiting for the others to arrive. The cool breeze of the weather breezed past them, but they paid no attention to it. Seeing how they were about to embark on a journey to Amsterdam, a gentle breeze was nothing to them.

“It’s about that time,” said Wahlburn, resting his head against the wall. “Who do you think will get here first? Any bets?”

“Hm,” said Spike, pondering the question. “I’ll bet on Cannon. He seems like the guy of the group to always show up on time.”

“Ah. What about you Patel?”

“My guess is for Rivs or Sticky. They are the ones who are ready to ball or whatever all the time.”

“I wish one of you would’ve said Tyrone. I would have won so much money as that dude is always late.” Wahlburn sighed and looked at his phone’s clock. “We still have a few minutes left. I’m guessing Poncho will be sketchy as fuck again and randomly show up.”

“Wrong,” said Patel. “Poncho and time do not go together. That guy can’t even complete a damn booklet that we had two months to do in time.”

The trio laughed and waited for the first friend to meet them at the planned location. As the clock struck noon, Jeb and his luggage appeared from around the corner of the house. “Hey guys. Sorry I’m late.”

“Late? What the fuck are you talking about? You’re right on time,” said Wahlburn. “You can be sorry for being that douche to arrive exactly on time though.”

“I just can’t win can I?” asked Jeb sadly.

“Of course you can’t. You’re Jeb.”

After another minute or so, Rivs and Sticky walked into view. Sticky of course had Carolina blue luggage and supplies while Rivs had Dook blue luggage and supplies. The others could tell they were trying to get the other’s colored bags dirty as they hated each other’s favorite university.

“Oh look at these fags,” said Wahlburn disgusted. “Am I the only straight one here because I hate basketball?”

“I don’t know,” said Patel. “I’m not a fan either.”

“Yeah, me either,” said Jeb.

“Yeah, well you’re Jeb though.” Wahlburn smirked as Jeb frowned and shook his head disappointed yet again.

After Rivs and Sticky got reunited with the others who were there, Cannon slowly made his way towards the group from the same direction where Rivs and Sticky came from. With Cannon, the group saw Fluffy Johnson.

“What’s up guys?” said Cannon as he and Fluffy began giving everyone hoof bumps and bro hugs as they haven’t seen everyone together again in a long time.

“I’m surprised you remembered after what I saw you like yesterday,” said Patel.

“Actually, Fluffy ran into me on the way here and that reminded me about it.” Cannon began laughing. “Sorry we’re a tad bit late.”

“Whatever, plane doesn’t leave for another three hours so we got some time to burn.” Patel began a headcount and saw they were missing some of the group. “Who are we missing? Tyrone and Poncho?”

“Yeah, and me.” The group turned around and saw Clyde walk over to them and sit down on the low wall. He had luggage bags with him.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” asked Patel. “You said you weren’t going to bother with this trip.”

“No...I said I didn’t really want to go, but I never did say I wasn’t going. I’m feeling a ‘Bro Night’ will be great as there hasn’t been one in over a year.”

“Well, shit.”

It wasn’t for another ten minutes or so until the next member showed up, Poncho. Poncho had only one bag with him and slowly made his way towards the group.

“Oh if it isn’t the sketchbag himself!” yelled Wahlburn. “How are you buddy?”

“Oh shut the hell up Wahlburn.” The group all began to reply to the hostile remark with the common ‘ooo’.

“Hey Poncho, what’s in your bag?” asked Cannon. “Chips?”

“Whaaaaaat?” replied Poncho, nervously looking around. “No, I have my clothes for the trip and other important necessities.”

“What clothes?” asked Sticky, “you wear the same damn hooded jacket everyday.”

“Whaaaaaat? I don’t know what you are talking about.”

“Yeah, okay.”

At one o’clock in the afternoon, they finally saw Tyrone way in the distance horizon. Once he got closer, they could pick out the detail of him still curling those dumbbells he had in prison. As he reached the group, Clyde got up and ran over to him.

“Long time no see,” said Clyde as he gave his old best friend a bump on the shoulder.

“What’s good man? It’s been awhile.” Tyrone set his bags, and his dumbbells, on the ground and greeted everyone else. After he finished, he went back over to Clyde. “You still ballin’ dawg?”

“Of course, I’m still desiring that dream matchup we had back when we were younger though.”

“Shit man, you know I’ll ball again, but I gots to take my talents to other places too.”

“Yeah, that’s understandable. There’s only one ‘Tyrone’ in this world.” Clyde and Tyrone continued talking to catch each other up about random topics in the past year, while Patel and the others were rambling about something else. Suddenly, a loud screeching sound came from down the street and Patel and the others stopped talking and got up to see what was the source of it. Soon, a lowrider car, that was so low the rear bumper was dragging across the road, causing sparks, came into view. The car pulled alongside the sidewalk near Tyrone. The driver stood up in the driver’s seat.

“Yo Tyrone, it’s your boy BC, I got your son!” Confused, the group looked at the back seat of the car, and sure enough, a young colt was sitting in the back.

“Dad!” yelled the young colt from the back.

“Junior! What the hell are you doing here?” asked Tyrone.

“Dad! I want to come with you!”

“Junior! What’d I tell you before? You ain’t coming!” Junior began to cry while the others just stared speechless as no one had any idea what the hell was going on. “BC, take him back to your house.”

“Shit man, I gotchu bro.” BC quickly sat down in the seat again and pulled away in the car with Junior. Tyrone and the others watched as they quickly faded in the distance.

“Tyrone, you have a kid?” asked Spike.

“Yeah man, that’s Junior. He’s about nine.”

“Nine? When the hell did this happen?” asked Clyde. “That mean’s you were fifteen.”

“You remember that one bitch I won from a bet from some street thugs we played?”

“Dude, you won so many bitches from betting street thugs.”

“Yeah, but each time I won, I fucked them, then told them to get the fuck outta here as I ain’t got the time for some punk ass hoe slowing me down.”

“Tyrone, you are so fucking cool!” shouted Spike. “Damn I wish I knew you guys earlier.” Tyrone took pleasure in that comment.

“Thanks lil’ dude. To be honest, I probably got a hundred kids or so running around out there.” Tyrone then began recalling all the names of the street bitches he got with since he was fifteen. After a thirty or so minute reciting of his list, Wahlburn spoke up.

“That’s great and all Tyrone, but I think we forgot that we have a fucking plane to board!” Everyone stood up simultaneously in panic. They ran around, collected their stuff, and quickly got into the assigned cars. Since so many of them were going, they had to pile into three separate cars. After taking another few minutes getting settled and stopped fooling around, they set forth towards the airport.

After an hour or so on the highway, the three cars veered off the highway and got on the lane that was connected to the Canterlot International Airport. After paying the parking fee, they rushed inside the terminal with their belongings. Getting past security took a good chunk of their time as the security scanned through all of the group’s bags. One guard questioned Poncho’s bag full of chips, but ultimately decided it wasn’t worth the hassle of asking any more questions about the group.

After the security check, they made their way to the ticket counter. Patel waved off the others to go wait in the lobby near the jet bridge to their plane. Most of them went to sit down while Poncho, Jeb, and Clyde walked up to Patel.

“How much is this going to be?” asked Clyde.

“I don’t know, but we need eleven first class tickets I believe,” said Patel. “I got this shit.” Patel whipped out a large bag of bits from his luggage bag. “I’ve been saving up my shares from Wahlburn for a year for this moment.”

“Nah man,” said Clyde. “Let me do it.” Clyde too whipped out a fairly large bag of coins.

“You going to pull that “generous” card on us, huh?” said Poncho. “I wonder why of all the ponies I know, Clyde has to be the more generous one.”

Clyde sighed. “Dude, what is your problem?”

Poncho looked away. “Oh, it’s nothing. It’s just I’m not a fan of things that tend to be...generous.”

“Poncho, I swear to-”

“What, what are you going to do? Beat me up in an airport?”

“No, but I’ll beat you up on the plane.”

“I’m about to throw you both out of the damn plane if you two don’t shut the hell up,” said Patel. The three of them then began bickering back in forth in a chaotic fashion. During this chaos, Jeb walked up to the ticket counter and pulled out his credit card. He bought the eleven tickets and walked back over to Poncho, Patel, and Clyde.

“Here,” said Jeb handing them tickets.

“Jeb, what the hell?” asked Patel.

“What? I’m at the PH daily. I got the funds.” Clyde and Poncho shrugged and postponed their argument for another time due to the free tickets. Jeb and the others walked over to the group in the lobby and gave away the tickets to their friends. After all the tickets were dispensed, Patel stood up.

“Alright guys, this is the journey we all waited for-”

“Not me,” said Clyde.

“Yeah, I’m just going because it’s better than the PH,” said Jeb.

“Okay,” said Patel annoyed. “What most of us waited for.” The group gave one last “hurrah!” and waited patiently until it was time to board their plane.

Flying (Really) High

“Now boarding flight 69 to London.” The group stood up at the intercom broadcast and got their bags ready. They looked outside the window and saw the massive plane that was connected to nearby jet bridge close by the lobby.

“Hehe, sixty nine,” said Spike, giggling at the number. The rest of them either also giggled or sighed in disappointment.

“Alright fuckers, lets go!” yelled Wahlburn, rushing towards the tunnel gate. The group all quickly followed in excitement. They were eventually greeted by the pilots, one of which being Quantico Baxter, and some flight attendants, one in which Tyrone took a liking to.

“Ay guuuurl,” he said, stopping by her and posting up. “how you doin’?”

As Clyde walked by them, he grabbed Tyrone and pulled him along with him. “No, Tyrone, you said you wouldn’t do this.”

The group made their way into the first class section, located right at the front part of the plane. They were all awestruck by how luxurious it looked.

“Alright, before we close out each other and start relaxing, I have our seating chart here,” said Patel. They quickly looked over it and placed their bags in the overhead storage of their assigned cabin and got comfortable in their seats.

“Hey, Sticky!” yelled Rivs, calling back towards him who was in the cabin directly behind him.

“Yeah?”

“Dawg they have TV’s! We can watch the basketball game!”

Sticky sat there silently for a quick second. “Oh fuck yes!” At this point, Rivs and Sticky were caught up in the pre-game program and wouldn’t be distracted for anything.

“Hey Wahlburn,” whispered Spike as quietly as he could. He looked around to see if they were somehow being watched, but as far as he could tell, they weren’t.

“What’s up?”

“Look what I got, dude.” Spike, again, looking around, unzipped his bag and revealed a small bag of weed.

“How the fuck-”

“Shhhh, just let it happen.”

Wahlburn laughed. “You’re one crazy motherfucker.”

“Yo homies,” said Tyrone to his friends, “I ain’t never been on a plane, what it like?”

“You take off,” began Patel, who was across the room from him, “which can feel weird. Then we get to altitude, which is smooth sailing until a usually not so smooth landing.”

“Aight dog.” The plane began takeoff, which startled Poncho, but what didn’t? Soon enough the plane was flying high.

"How long is this flight?" asked Fluffy, looking out his window to see the rising plane pierce the clouds.

"About 8 hours," stated Jeb. "So we’ll get there at about 4 am in that timezone."

“Yo Wahlburn,” whispered Spike, “that’s more than enough time to blaze up.”

Wahlburn nodded. “Cool shit, whip the bag out.”

Soon, the intercom made a crackle and the voice of Quantico filled the plane. “This is your pilot Quantico Baxter speaking, we are now on our way to London. This will take about uh, eight hours, and uh, we aren’t expecting any turbulence or bumps during our flight. Shortly our, uh, flight attendants will be around to, uh, hand out beverages and snacks.”

“Now fellas, this is your co-pilot speaking. We want to make sure you know that, uh, smoking is not allowed on the plane and that, uh, you remain seated when the seat belt symbol is lit. Thank you.” The intercom made another crackle then shut off.

“Oh shit, Wahlburn, put the bud away and clear out the smoke!” Spike started to flail his arms around to clear the smoke.

“How am I supposed to clear out the smoke?” asked Wahlburn nervously, also flailing his arms around. The rest of the group noticed the mumbling coming from Spike and Wahlburn’s seat. They also noticed smoke slowly rising up from their spot. Since seeing smoke from the two was very common, no one came to help them.

“Aw shit, the flight attendants are coming!” exclaimed Spike.

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck,” repeated Wahlburn, flailing around harder. The flight attendant for their aisle came across Wahlburn and Spike, noticing the coughing and smoke.

“Were you guys smoking?” asked the attendant. From what Wahlburn could tell, she looked around the same age as Wahlburn and his friends.

“Yeah we were smoking some...cigarettes, then we heard the pilots say we couldn’t so we put it out. That’s all.” Spike looked her right in the eyes to retain his fake serious look.

The attendant looked at the duo for a few moments before dropping the subject completely. “Alright, well just don't do it again. Can I get you anything?”

“We’ll just have a soda and chips,” said Wahlburn, hiding a sigh of relief. The flight attendant poured their drinks and gave them their snacks, then moved onto the next passenger.

“Damn, that was close,” said Spike to Wahlburn.

“Yeah, but what are we gonna do now, we can’t smoke up anymore.”

Spike grinned. “Oh, don’t worry, I’ve got an idea.”

The attendant made her way around the room asking if anyone wanted anything. Her first stop after Spike and Wahlburn was both Rivs and Sticky. Both of them were so focused on the game on TV that they ignored her. She made her way over to Fluffy J, who was busy watching two Spanish Fútbol teams go at it.

“GOL!!” he yelled when someone scored on a fastbreak. He looked over at the attendant, “was that goal not awesome?”

“Yeah...,” she replied. “Would you like anything?”

“Nah chica, yo estoy bueno.” He turned his attention back to the game. The attendant nodded and made her way up the aisle to Jeb. Jeb was looking at something on his phone.

“Excuse me sir, would you like anything?”

Jeb looked over and shook his head. “No, I’m good. I’m just a little bit mad that my job put me to work even though I said I was going to be on vacation.” He continued ranting about the PH while the attendant snuck away.

Once she reached Poncho’s cabin, she saw that he was watching some random infomercial on some new sanitizer. “Would you like me to get you anything?”

Poncho jumped as he heard her voice. “Gah!”

The attendant jumped back in shock at his reaction. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t know you got scared easily.”

“I do not get scared easily. You just took me for surprise is all...” Poncho began to eye up the attendant’s cart. “Hey, can I have some of those chips on there?”

“Sure,” she said handing him a bag, “would you like anything else?”

“Do you have any sanitizer?”

“Sanitizer?” She looked around the cart and searched for a mini-bottle of sanitizer. “I’m afraid we didn’t put any on this cart. I can go get you one real quick.”

“No, that’s okay,” said Poncho. “I got my own bottle.” He took out a mini-bottle of sanitizer from his hooded jacket. He squirted it onto his hooves and began to rub it around.

Confused, the attendant looked at him. “If you had some, why did you ask in the first place?”

“I just didn’t want to use mine yet. This bottle was for Amsterdam only, but...I guess I can use it now.” He kept rubbing his hooves while the attendant walked past his cabin. As she reached Tyrone’s seat, she began to giggle.

“What are you doing?” she said, laughing.

Tyrone was jamming out to a music video he was watching on his TV, while eating a chicken leg. “What? A manly stallion like me has his needs.”

“I can see that. Would you like anything on our cart?”

Tyrone looked at the assorted items on the cart and shook his head. He looked back at the attendant and smiled. “Unless you’re considered on the cart.”

The attendant giggled again, “I’m sorry sir, but I’m afraid I’m not.”

“Shieeet.” As the attendant walked away back through the aisle to get to the others, Tyrone poked his head out of his cabin to look at her walk away. “Daayum, gurl. Dat ass, doe!” As she continued walking away, she heard his comment and simply smiled.

Once she reached Wahlburn’s and Spike’s cabin, she noticed that they both were missing. She walked past it, onwards to the aisle to the left instead this time.

As she pulled up to Cannon’s cabin, she saw that he was laying down on his reclined seat looking sad.

“What’s wrong sir? Can I get you something?”

Cannon looked up. “It’s about damn time you got here. I want some drafts. Lots of them.”

“Are you sure you want ‘lots of them’?” asked the attendant.

“You don’t think I can handle my alcohol? Please.”

“Alright, I’ll get them.” The attendant walked away to get some fresh beer for Cannon. After a minute or two, she returned with three glasses of beer.

“Mmmm, beeeeer!” said Cannon excitedly. The attendant wished him well and turned around to the other side of the aisle to Clyde’s cabin.

Clyde was wearing headphones, with his left headphone off his ear. He had his computer on his small table beside his seat open on his music. He remained looking out the window, while casually bopping his head to the beats of the music.

“Excuse me,” said the attendant, knocking on the small cabin wall. This made Clyde turn around and face her. “I don’t want to bother you, but did you want something while I’m here?”

“I think I’m good for now, but can I ask you something.”

“Sure, what is it?”

“This plane gets long range online connection right? Like even if we were in the middle of the ocean?”

“Yes, well, it should at least. In the past, airlines never really liked the idea, as it messed up signals and whatnot. I think you should be fine now though. Why, do you have to send an email to someone for your job?”

Clyde laughed. “Oh no, I promised my girlfriend I would webchat with her everyday while we were both away.”

“Is that so? It seems like you both are very close and care deeply for each other.”

“Yeah, I couldn’t tell you a time in the past year and half that I haven’t thought about her constantly. She became my motivation to play basketball again after my injury. The only problem is that most of the ones in this room calls me a douche because of her, but at this point, I really don’t care.”

“Don’t worry about them,” said the attendant with a smile, “I’ll bet that they are all jealous of you. I wish you two the best.”

Clyde laughed again. “That’s what I’m saying. Thanks again.” He put on his headphones again and once more was lost in the musical harmonies in his head.

The attendant waved goodbye and made her way to the last of the members in the back corner of the room, Patel.

Patel was laying down watching some German Fußball team play on TV. He also had a notebook laying on him. Once he saw the flight attendant he looked up.

“Did you want anything sir?”

“A glass of water would be fine.”

As she poured him some water she looked at his notebook. From what she could tell was, on the notebook was a blocked schedule of some sorts. “What’s that for?” she asked.

“Oh, nothing. I’m just trying to plan our few days in Amsterdam accordingly. We want to experience as much as possible.”

“Well, I wouldn’t want to bother you anymore, enjoy the rest of your flight this evening.” As she turned away, she took a few steps and looked back at Patel. “You know, it’s funny. All of you in this room are so different, that I don’t know how you are all friends.”

Patel looked out of the window. The sun was below the flat horizon which made the sky look a mixture of orange and purple. “I have no idea either. I guess that’s what makes it interesting. But, to answer you, I think we all have the same love/hate relationship with Poncho.” The attendant gave a laugh and took her cart back into the attendant chamber. Patel looked at the TV, which was now on a commercial break for halftime. “I might as well take a quick piss before I miss anything.”

Patel got up and walked down the short hallway to the bathrooms. He passed Clyde, who still had his headphones on, who gave him a quick “hey” nod, Cannon, who was busy with his third glass of beer, and Wahlburn’s and Spike’s cabin, which was empty. As he reached the bathroom door, he saw smoke coming out of the outline of the door.

“Oh for fucks sake!” yelled Patel, banging on the door. “Can’t you wait until we get off of the plane?” Patel then went straight to the door and kicked it open.

“You chicken fucker!” yelled Wahlburn as the door hit the wall.

Spike on the other hand had been too stoned to notice the pissed off Patel. ”Wooow, Patel you’re one crazy dude,” exclaimed Spike.

“I’m the crazy one?” asked Patel with a quick chuckle afterwards. “I’m not the one smoking weed in the bathroom on airplane.”

“Dude, I think you’re just salty,” said Wahlburn. “We wanted to try something.”

“Try what?”

“We wanted to join that secret club that involves airplanes,” said Spike, tumbling over and laughing on the bathroom floor.

“The Mile High Club?” asked Patel. “You do realise this isn’t that, right?”

“No, fuck that shit,” said Wahlburn. “We’re talking about the ‘Really High Club’. You know, since we’re already flying super high in the sky, why not get high off weed at the same time?” Wahlburn and Spike high-fived each other and began laughing again before falling down.

Patel shook his head. “You guys are so fucking stupid. Get out of the damn bathroom so I can piss.” Wahlburn and Spike crawled out of the bathroom while Patel slammed the door behind him. “God, fucking idiots! Save your damn weed for Amsterdam!”

After Patel finished his bathroom trip, he made his way back to Wahlburn and Spike. They were both passed out in their cabin. Patel quietly laughed at them and walked down the hallway towards his seat. He then looked over to his right to where Cannon was also passed out with three empty glasses around him.

As Patel walked by Clyde’s cabin, he looked over and saw that this time he had his head near the window looking at the vast sky. He could see a small tear roll down his cheek.

“What the hell are you doing?” asked Patel. Clyde ignored him due to the headphones on both ears. Soon, Clyde reached out and touched the window, having more tears than before. Patel, who didn’t want to bust out laughing, walked into his cabin and just stared at him to notice him.

After a few seconds, Clyde turned around. Instead of looking shocked, he pulled off his headphones and stared back. “Did you want anything?”

“Yeah,” said Patel. “What the fuck was that?”

“What was what?”

“The whole crying thing and reaching out towards the sky. Did she just break up with you on a plane? That’s hilarious!”

“What? No!” Clyde picked up his headphones again and handed them to Patel. “I always wanted to listen to this song while flying on a plane. It’s crazy how the lyrics sound when you are actually in the sky.”

Patel took his headphones and listened to the song. After realizing what it was,he threw them off. “Really, “I Believe I Can Fly?!”

“Dude, it’s a good song. You can definitely get hyped up after listening to it.”

Patel sighed. “What happened to you man?”

“What do you mean what happened to me? I haven’t changed at all.”

“Whatever you say mate. You turned soft, you know, doing real pussy shit.” Patel turned around to walk out. “You know, there has to be a motive for you to come with us, I just don’t know what it is.” Clyde shrugged.

“Attention flyers,” said Quantico through the intercom, “we are here to educate you during your flight to London with our random European trivia!”

“Now ladies and fellas,” began the co-pilot Hill, “did you know that Amsterdam is sometimes called the ‘City of Diamonds’ due to the city’s large diamond industry?”

“And that has been your uh, random European trivia for the rest of the night. Uh, Enjoy your rest and we’ll see you when you wake up we will be arriving.” Quantico turned off the intercom channel, which made the loud crackle.

Patel stood there for a while to grasp what he just heard. “Oh my sweet Moon,” said Patel as he turned around back towards Clyde. “I know why you came here. You knew the nickname of this city all along.”

Clyde gave a slight smile, but remained calm. “Of course I knew. Rarity always wanted me to take her here, but we never got around to it. I decided that I could buy her jewelry while I was here.”

Patel looked at him thoroughly and shook his head. “So, you’re pulling the ‘douchebag’ move again.”

“No, it makes sense why I’m doing that because while you’re having a ‘blast’ at the Red-Light Districts, I’ll be going around the museums and shops because that’s a lot more fun.”

“Come on mate, you can’t go to Amsterdam without doing a little legal weed in public?”

“Well, it looks like I’ll be that guy.” Clyde put on his headphones again while searching for a sports station. Patel went back to his cabin.

“Fine,” said Patel to himself. “Amsterdam will be fun no matter what happens. Fuck Clyde and his bad vibes.” After a few more silent rants to himself, he fell asleep.

Da Dopeman

“Attention flyers!” yelled Quantico through the intercom, “we are about to land in London, please wake up and prepare to disembark the plane while your luggage will be carried through to the next one.” Patel groggily woke up and looked out his window. He saw a small airport below them.

“Thanks for flying with us,” said Hill, “you fellas and gals have a nice and safe time.” The pilots then signed off and the crackle rang throughout the cabin.

“Finally!” yelled Cannon, “this plane was getting boring real quick.”

“It’s not over yet,” said Patel walking up to his seat. He was trying to wake his body up as it still was only 4 in the morning. “We still have to wait an hour before we can get on the plane to Amsterdam.”

“An hour layover?” asked Sticky. “That’s pretty lame. What can we do with an hour?”

“I don’t know about you guys, but I’m going to munch,” said Spike. “I’m hungry as fuck!”

As the plane landed, they all braced for impact. Unfortunately, nothing really special, other than landing, happened and they all moaned in disappointment. After the plane connected the jet bridge to the airport, the passengers all filed out of the plane. Since first class had it’s own jet bridge, no one was lost in the chaos.

“All right homeboys, we have in an hour,” said Wahlburn. “What are we going to do?”

“Let’s go to the cafeteria and eat some breakfast?” asked Spike.

Tyrone turned towards him. “Shieeeet, man. I’m witchu.” Soon, Tyrone with Spike on his back and Poncho ran over to the cafeteria for food.

“I guess that’s where we are going,” said Patel. They all found a table and scattered around the cafeteria floor, finding different foods to eat. Once everyone was content, they sat down at the table.

“Anyone know what we can do in a London airport at 4 in the morning?” mumbled Cannon as he stuffed his face with pancakes.

“Wimbledon isn’t that far away. Anyone wanna play some tennis?” joked Clyde.

“Tennis,” chuckled Rivs, “what a laugh.”

“Yeah man, it’s all about Fútbol.” Patel smiled while the others looked at him expressionless. “You guys are so fucking mad right now.”

“Yeah, el Fútbol!” yelled Fluffy. “It’s only the best deporte!” Fluffy and Patel gave a hoofbump.

“Both of you get the fuck out of here,” said Wahlburn, pointing to the main airport entrance. The bickering between them continued a bit longer until Poncho spoke up.

“Hey, Jeb, are you going to drink your juice?”

Jeb and the others looked over to see Poncho with an empty plane. “What the hell man, didn’t you have like four glasses?” asked Jeb.

“Whaaaaaat?” Poncho looked away quickly then back to Jeb. “I was only asking if I could have it since you aren’t drinking it.”

“No,”said Jeb as he quickly drank his juice while looking cautiously at Poncho.

“Alright dawgs. I say we jump aboard the new plane now. We ain’t got that much time.” Tyrone quickly threw his trash away.

“What the hell is your problem?” asked Wahlburn.

“Me? Shit, nothing man. I just want to keep my back corner seat. And, maybe to check if we got another fine assed flight attendant too.” Tyrone smirked and laughed.

“Tyrone, what did we tell you before we got on the plane. Don’t try shit like that or soon, Junior will have other Juniors he won’t even meet.”

“I know dawg. I can’t help myself sometimes.”

“It’s cool,” said Wahlburn, patting him on the shoulder, “it happens to the best of us.”

“Speaking of Junior, I wonder how that lil’ bastard is doing.” Tyrone pulled out his phone and dialed BC’s number. After a few rings, the voicemail kicked in. “Ay, shit. I guess they are sleeping still.”

“Yeah dude,” said Cannon. “It’s only 4 in the morning.”

“Actually, it would be 11 at night over there,” said Jeb correcting him.

“Shut the fuck up Jeb.”

The group threw away the trash from their food and made their way to the second plane boarding gate. Once they could board, they followed the same procedures as the first plane and sat in the same assigned seats. After the passengers were all seated, the intercom crackled on.

“Hello. This is your captain speaking and welcome to: Flying with Captain Baxter. Now before you ask, I’m not Quantico, but his relative, Korico. I don’t do that stupid stereotypical “pilot pause” like him because I’m a much more talented pilot. Anyways, this flight should only take uh, FUCK!” The intercom shut off and the group was confused on what happened. After a few seconds the loud crackle turned back on. “Sorry about that, the flight should only take a hour or so. Enjoy the flight.”

“An hour?” complained Sticky, “what the hell is the point of doing anything if we are only going to be on here for an hour?”

“Watch basketball, you chinky!” yelled Patel from across the room.
The group followed Patel’s plan and watched a random program to their choosing. Around 50 minutes after departure, Korico came back onto the intercom.

“We are ahead of schedule and landing in two minutes. Remember to get your bags once before you leave the airport and enjoy this blasted city.”

Just like Korico stated, after two minutes, the plane began its descent. Once everything was a go, all the passengers filed out of the plane, into the jet bridge, and into the gate lobby. Jeb made it out first and waited for the others.
“Get the fuck outta my way!” yelled Wahlburn, pushing through the crowds towards Jeb. “Damn, I can’t even move.”

“Did you see the others?” asked Jeb.

“Yeah, they are still in there.” Wahlburn looked back at the hysterical horde. “May JC be with them.”

Soon, Rivs and Sticky were pushed out of the mob towards them. “Damnit! I didn’t catch the score of the game!” Rivs frowned and crossed his arms, remaining on the ground sitting.

“Is there a damn game on everyday?” asked Wahlburn. “That’s fucking stupid.”

“What?” said Sticky in shock, “it’s the non-conference schedule season right now. It’s very important.”
Wahlburn began a hateful frown. “Does it look like I give a fuck?” Sticky and Rivs shook their head. “Exactly.”

Within the next two minutes, the rest of the group broke away from the crowd and joined the others in the lobby. They talked for awhile and looked around trying to read the different signs pointing to different areas of the airport.

“Can anyone read French?” asked Spike.

“French? What the fuck are you smoking? Actually, nevermind, I know exactly what you’re smoking,” retorted Patel. “That’s Dutch.”

“Oh.” Spike sadly. “Didn’t have to be a dick about it...”

“Enough chitter chatter,” said Tyrone, “We gotsta get our shit back from the airport staff.” They all agreed and went west, or whatever direction they were at, to the baggage claim. They all waited patiently in line until their luggage came through the carousel. After a few minutes, Patel’s bags came through.

“Ha! Fuck you guys.” As he picked his luggage up, Fluffy’s bag came through too. Soon, everyone’s but Tyrone’s and Poncho’s luggage came through.

“What da hell?” said Tyrone about his bag. “Where the goddamn hell is it?” As Tyrone finished his sentence, a young colt rolled out of the flap holding on to Tyrone’s luggage.

“Dad!” said Junior happily, hugging the luggage.

Tyrone stood there confused. “Junior? What the hell!”

“What?”

“What the hell are you doing here? And get off Greg dammit!” A faint “ruff” emitted from the luggage. Tyrone picked up Greg the luggage and strapped it to his back.

Junior hopped down from the carousel and looked up at Tyrone. “Dad, I snuck on the plane so I could come with you!”

“Junior, I told ya I didn’t want you to come.” Tyrone looked around and saw that his friends were laughing at him. Tyrone grabbed Junior and set him on his back and began to walk towards the group. “Let’s go, we’ll talk later.”

Poncho watched as Tyrone and his son departed towards the others, leaving him alone. His bag has yet to come and he was getting hungry as all his food was in his luggage. After a few seconds, Poncho’s luggage, along with another, came rolling out of the flap. Poncho hurried over to retrieve it, but the other bag was tangled up with his.

“Gosh darn golly gee whiz,” said Poncho, trying to rip apart the tangled bags. After wrestling with them some more, he finally separated them.

“Excuse me, but I think you have my bag.” A light teal pony, around the same age as Poncho and the others, walked up to him. Poncho saw that this teal pony, with her dark tealish eyes, looking right at him. She had a pink mane, with a single bright white highlight in it. Her cutie mark was a white and pink lotus flower.

“Oh!” yelled Poncho, awkwardly. “Sorry, about that, it’s just that it kinda got caught with mine and I tried to separate them. That’s why I’m still holding on to yours. It’s not like I want to keep yours, it’s just, I still have it because I’ve yet find its owner, but since you’re here, I guess it’s yours after all.” Poncho gave his sketchy laugh after he finished talking. He noticed that she was looking at him strangely.

“That’s fine,” she said. “Thanks again.” She took her luggage and ran off. Poncho stared at her running off and quickly made his way back to the group.

“Oh there he is,” said Cannon. “Where the fuck were you?”

“W-What. Nowhere.”

“Okay...” Cannon stopped talking to Poncho and shifted his attention to the others. “So, where the hell are we going to stay at?”

The others shrugged and looked at Patel, seeing as he is the one who planned the trip.

“Shit. I forgot about that part.”

“Don’t worry guys,” said Fluffy with a smile, “I know a guy.”

The others looked at him strangely. “You do?” they asked in unison.

“Yeah. I met him in South Beach a few months before you guys came into that city. He told me he was a resident of this city and country. He liked my “South Beach Swag” so he gave me his address if I was ever in Amsterdam.”

“Why the hell did this guy ever leave Amsterdam for a shitty place like South Beach?” asked Wahlburn curiously. “You can do anything in this place.”

“Well, he wanted to be like everyone else and decided to “take his talents to South Beach” and live there for a few weeks.” Fluffy laughed. “That’s what’s on everyone’s bucket list nowadays.”

“What does this guy do anyway?” asked Patel. “It seems like he has it made.”

Fluffy smirked. “Oh you’ll find out.”

The group finally left the airport and caught a bus to stop. After telling the destination, the driver agreed to take them, for a bigger fee of course. The destination wasn’t in Amsterdam particularly, but in the outskirts of the city. The bus went on the main road, but everyone could see the massive amount of tulip fields in the countryside. Even though it was early December, the fields were still bright with color. After the bus went outside of the city limits for about ten minutes, the GPS on the bus went off.

“Looks like you’re here,” yelled the bus driver over the loud engine. “Get the hell off my bus. I have more trips.” They all quickly fled the bus and looked around. As the bus pulled away, a huge cottage appeared on the other side of the road.

“That’s where this guy lives?” asked Wahlburn surprised. “It’s crazy big.”

“Crazy big?” Cannon chuckled. “I’ll show you something that’s crazy big.”

“Oh shut the hell up Schultz,” replied Poncho. The two began to argue while Fluffy walked up to the gates. After studying the words on the gate he turned around.

“Yep, this is it. Follow me.” The others grabbed their luggage and walked forward alongside Fluffy. They walked through the marvelous floral trail to the front door, that seemed to have over a hundred different types of flowers and plants.

“Dad!” yelled Junior atop of Tyrone.

“Whatchu want?” said Tyrone looking back towards him.

“Are we there yet?”

“Junior! We are in the damn garden of the house. Of course we’re here.”

“Okay.”

Soon, they all reached the steps of the wondrous cottage. The steps, unlike the trail, was very plain and simple. Fluffy walked up the stairs and knocked on the door. After a few moments, the door swung open with a tall and lean olive colored stallion wearing a rasta hat. He looked down at Fluffy and soon smiled. “If it isn’t Fluffy! Mi hermana! Welkom!” He gave him a pat on the shoulder. “I hope I said that right.”

“It’s actually hermano, but you were close enough.”

“That’s good. What can I do for you my Southern Beach Swag-filled friend?”

Fluffy shifted backwards to reveal the remainder of the others at the stair’s bottom. “We need a place to stay while we are in Amsterdam. Do you mind if we can stay here?”

The olive stallion looked at them and smiled. “Of course! I have room for everyone! The more ponies the better!” He danced down the steps in front of the others. “Oh, I seem to forgot to introduce myself. My name is Bastiaan Van Der Hoof. However, around these parts I’m mostly known as “Siberian Tiger Bluntmaster.”

Wahlburn and Spike perked up. “That’s fucking awesome!”

“So, you’re a drug dealer?” asked Patel. “That’s why you are wearing that hat, why you have so much money, and that nickname?”

“Precise my boy.” Bastiaan walked back up the stairs beside Fluffy. “I have around twenty rooms in my cottage and you are all more than welcome to have your own.”

“Twenty?” asked Jeb. “Why do you have that many?”

Bastiaan grinned. “Usually, during the second saturday of every month, I throw a huge party where all my friends, fellow dealers and buyers, and even random tourists can enjoy themselves. I have multiple bedrooms incase the party-goers want to really enjoy themselves.” He kept raising his eyebrows up and down for extra emphasis.

“Oh,” said Tyrone, “I get it.”

“Dad! What’s he talking about?” asked Junior. “Do they play go in rooms to play some card games in private so no one can interrupt them?”

“It’s nothing son, I’ll tell you when you’re ten like I was.”

“Speaking of which,” began Bastiaan, “My next party is coming up this weekend. Will you dudes be sticking around till then?”

“Hell yeah!” said Spike. “I came to get stoned out of my small mind, bro!”

“Great! Since it’s still fairly early in the day, I’ll show you to your rooms and then you guys can go check out the city.” He opened the doors again and they all went inside.

De stad Amsterdam

The following hour was spent with Bastiaan showing each of his guests to their rooms and a tour of the cottage. Each room contained a bathroom, bed, and desk, as all of them could be used for “enjoyment” as stated by Bastiaan. The rooms also had TV and two windows, but he didn’t care about mentioning them. After the tour, Sticky and Rivs decided to stay at the cottage to continue watching basketball games and Tyrone stayed behind with Junior to keep an eye on him, while Bastiaan and the others went to explore the city.

“Well my new friends, are you ready to finally see this city of absolute enjoyment?” said Bastiaan, as he started his private transport bus.

Spike and Wahlburn gave a extremely jubilant hurrah, while the others just sat there. The bus pulled out of the driveway and drove towards the city in the distance.

“What the hell guys? Act happy!” said Spike.

“Shut the hell up,” said Cannon. “You’re over-hyping this whole thing. How do you know they will even sell to you?”

“That’s why I got him!” said Spike, pointing up towards Wahlburn.

“Whatever. I’m still tired and possibly hungover.” Cannon rested his head on the window and closed his eyes. After a minute, he began to snore.

Wahlburn began to laugh at him then looked over to Clyde. “Hey brother, you finally going to stop being a bitch and finally smoke with me?”

Clyde shook his head. “Nah man, that ain’t me.”

“Come on,” said Wahlburn, dragging out the word. “Why not? Are you afraid you’ll get addicted and then have to go to rehab, but turns out it didn’t work and you’ll be alone in your life with nothing except your addiction?”

Clyde blinked. “I just simply don’t want to.”

Wahlburn sighed. “Then how about that sweet Red-Light District with the boys?”

“Why the hell would I do that!”

“It’s cool brother, we won’t tell your girl. We’re all cool here. You know that phrase, “what happens in Amsterdam stays in Amsterdam.”

“That’s Pegas, you fuck boy,” said Patel.

“Same damn thing.” Wahlburn turned towards Bastiaan, “are we almost there? I’m dying to begin my sweet Amsterdam weed journey.”

“Not yet,” said Bastiaan, “it’s about another few minutes to the heart of the city, where I’ll park this and you guys can walk around all day.”

“Sweet.” Wahlburn turned back around to the group. “Alright so if Clyde is going to be the pussy of the group, that means Poncho, you have to at least do something this douche won’t do.”

Poncho began rubbing his neck, “W-What are you talking about?”

“He’s talking about either smoking with us or fucking some bitch,” said Patel.

“Eh...,” pondered Poncho. “I’m not sure. That’s extremely unsanitary.”

“What, smoking?”

“No! The Red-Light District!”

“It can’t be that bad,” said Fluffy. “I mean, if you think about it. You never really hear about others dying from Amsterdam’s legal prostitution.”

“Exactly,” said Wahlburn. “Stop being a bitch Poncho.”

Before Poncho could stall anymore time, Bastiaan’s voice boomed through the bus. “Alright friends, we are here.” He parked the bus in the back of a shady looking alleyway. They all got off the bus looked around.

From where they were standing, they saw a canal under them with dozens of small rowboats going to and fro. Alongside the canals, there were many shops and citizens walking in and out of them.

“Wow, this place is just like Venice!” said Jeb.

“Indeed it is.” Bastiaan walked up to edge of the street and stood there. “Alright, I’m going to be at that coffee shop all day, meet back here at midnight and we’ll go back to my cottage. Here are some maps so you don’t get lost. We’re in the De Wallen area.” Bastiaan handed out the maps and took off to the coffee shop across the canal.

As the group was looking over the map, a figure ran into Wahlburn.

“Ah, what the hell?” asked Wahlburn looking around. Next to him was a pony clad in a leather jacket with tan breeches and black boots. He also had a hook attached to his front left hoof.

“Sorry lad, I wasn’t payin attention.” The pony helped him up. As the mysterious pony stood back up on all fours, the group noticed he was wearing an eye-patch and hat with a skull on it.

“Why are you wearing a pirate costume?” asked Spike, who soon began laughing.

The pony looked down at him in anger. “Costume? I’ll have ye know that I be an official corsair of the northern seas, lad.”

“Corsair? What’s that?” asked Poncho.

“It means pirate,” said Clyde.

“How do you know that?”

“Rarity and I watched a good amount of movies in the past year or so.” Clyde turned back towards the pirate. “Do you have a ship or something?”

“No, I’m afraid I don’t lad. I’m here waitin for me cap’n to come back to harbor.” He pulled out some sort of card and handed it Clyde. “This is me official, “Northern Seas Corsair” card.” Clyde lowered the card so Spike and the others could also read it.

“Your name is “Yarlin” it says,” stated Cannon. Cannon looked at the name again and thought something was odd about that name. “Why is your name weird to me?”

“It’s probably because it’s “Yarlin” and not “Yarrlin”, you know, because I’m a pirate.”

“No, that’s not it...” Cannon sat down and stroked his chin in deep thought. After a few strokes, he jumped up. “Yarlin! You must know Xarlin and Pharlin!”

Gasps were heard from the group while Yarlin stood there thinking. “They sound familiar to me, but I can’t place my hook on it.”

“Well, Pharlin told us that Xarlin was his brother, and if that’s the case, you must be related. Besides, you sort of look like them from what I remember.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if I had relatives in the western side of the world,” said Yarlin. “We disbanded many years ago.”

“We?” asked Patel. “What do you mean by we?”

“It’s nothin lad. Just some past memories you wouldn’t care about.” Yarlin lifted up his eye-patch to rub his eyes, then placed it back. “If you knew Pharlin and Xarlin, would you mind tellin this old seaman their swan song?”

Spike and Wahlburn began to giggle while Cannon ignored them. “Well, I killed Xarlin about sixteen months ago and Pharlin was shot about 500 times about fifteen months ago.”

Yarlin took off his hat and placed it over his chest. “That is tragic tale lad.” After a moment of silence he returned his hat on his head. He looked out across the city and its canal and turned towards the north. “Well lads, I’ll be departin now. I’m to meet my good friend near the shite harbor.”

Wahlburn and Spike waved goodbye and quickly ran off, while Cannon stopped Yarlin. “Wait, can we go too? I always wanted to know about the pirate’s life.”

Yarlin beamed with joy. “Well, shiver me timbers! Of course, ye lads can come with me! I’m sure you’ll like my one mate.” Yarlin turned the corner and trotted down the street.

Cannon did a little “victory punch” and began to tail him. The rest of the group, minus Spike and Wahlburn of course, quickly pursued.

“So, Yarlin?” asked Cannon after he and the others caught up to him. “What exactly is your role in your fleet?”

Yarlin smiled at him. “I’m in charge of the booty!”

“Oh, so you make sure all the cargo and treasure you plunder is all sorted out and stuff. That’s pretty neat.”

Yarlin stopped in his tracks. “Ye aren’t wrong as I do that occasionally, but I meant booty.” Cannon and the others looked at him strangely.

“So...you’re a...uh, butt pirate?” asked Patel cautiously. The others all took a step back.

“Aye lad, that I am. I haven’t no shame in it either. The pirate’s life is mostly spent on the seas with other males, as females aren’t cut for the pirate life of theft and murder. We all have desires even when stranded in the middle of the great ocean.”

“Well, that’s just not weird or anything,” said Patel.

“If it makes you feel better lad, I think you have a nice booty.”

Patel jumped backed as far as he could from him. “What the fuck dude! You can’t be saying this shit.”

“Sorry matey, it’s just a habit of mine. Enough shite, let’s go talk to Clark.” Yarlin took off again while the others followed him, except this time, they kept a farther distance. After another few streets, alleys, and canal bridges, Yarlin stopped in the middle of the street. “Aye, there he is.”

Yarlin pointed over to a small crowd of colts and fillies. Behind them was a stand with the word “Marionetten” on the top of it. As they drew closer, they could see that there was a puppet show going on. Most of the young ones were laughing at the gestures of the puppets and the dialogue. Two minutes after the group first saw the stand, the curtain fell down and the young ponies fled the scene.

Yarlin walked up to the stand. “Ahoy, Clark! It’s ye good mate, Yarlin.” The stand began to shake and soon, a pony rolled out of the side of it.

“Oh hey, Yarlin,” said Clark happily. “I’m so glad you’re here! Did you enjoy my super awesome show?”
Clark was a light green pony with dark black eyes. His mane was also a light color, being near lavender. Clark’s flank was labeled with two marionettes for his mark. One puppet wore the happy drama mask, while its brethren wore the sad mask.

“Clark me matey! Your shows are always somethin special. I haven’t forgotten me surprise for ye tonight.” The two laughed together while Cannon and the rest stood there confused for the hundredth time since coming to this city.

“Clark is it? What exactly do you do? Do you just perform puppet shows for the hell of it?” Cannon showed fear as he asked the questions, as he didn’t know what to expect from anyone in this city.

“Well,” began Clark. “I originally began my puppet dream after learning I was very good at doing it.”

“Okay, but what’s your dream?”

“I did this because I wanted to get closer to the young ones.”

Cannon squinted his eyes. “Wait, a minute...”

“Aye, it’s true. I should be locked up, but I just can’t help it.”

Cannon and the others face hoofed in unison. “So, let us get this straight. The first two ponies we meet in this huge city is a butt pirate and a pedophile puppet dude who performs in alleys. Not only that, but they love each other too?”

Clark and Yarlin looked at each other and shrugged.

“You hit it right on the head,” said Clark.

“Now mate, that’s for later,” said Yarlin laughing.

The group sighed again and Poncho took out a water bottle. “You know, I have no hatred of homosexuals, but as long as they don’t do blumpkins, I’m alright with these guys.” Poncho gave a sketchy chuckle and began to drink his bottle of water.

“Actually mate, we do that too,” said Yarlin, with no ounce of regret.

At the mention of “blumpkin”, Poncho dropped his bottle of water. “E-Excuse me? Did you just say you did blumpkins?”

“That we did mate.”

Poncho looked at them, staring right at the both of them. Without speaking, Poncho turned around and began quickly walking away from them.

“Yo, wait up you asshole!” yelled Cannon, running after him. Patel, Fluffy, Jeb, and Clyde also chased after them while waving goodbye to Yarlin and Clark. After about two blocks, they reunited with Poncho and Cannon.

“Poncho what the hell?” asked Fluffy. “You just can’t run off like that.”

“I just can’t do it man, blumpkins are a huge NO.” Poncho began to rapidly shake his head and pace back and forth.

“Alright, enough with that shite coming out of your lips,” ordered Patel. “We’re here to have a fucking awesome time, not dick around like this.”

“He’s right,” agreed Fluffy.

“Depending on what each of us wants to do today, I think we should travel in pairs like Spike and Wahlburn did,” said Jeb.

“Alright, that sounds cool with me,” said Patel. He pulled out the map and began tracing lines to what places and shops would be cool to go to. While everyone was studying the map, Poncho noticed the teal pony from the airport looking at a street vendor’s stock. Cannon also noticed that Poncho wasn’t paying attention to their group chat.

“Poncho, what are you starting at?” asked Cannon.

“W-What!” yelled Poncho, flinching. “N-Nothing.”

Cannon scanned the area where Poncho was looking near. After a quick think session, Cannon singling out the only living thing over in that direction. “You mean that girl over there?”

“N-No.”

“Don’t worry man, I got you.” Cannon began to walk over to the girl, while Poncho tried stopping him by holding up an arm while he was already gone, like trying to tell him to don’t leave. Cannon approached the girl and quietly, and smoothly, stood beside her.

“Hey,” said Cannon, not looking at her and pretending to be all secretive.. “My friend over there likes you.”

“Which one, the green one?” she asked, also not looking at him not the group.

“No, the khaki one.”

She giggled. “Oh, him.”

“Yeah, he wants to know if you wanted to go with him tonight to a restaurant. Don’t worry, as it’s not just you two, we will probably be there too, but I should tell you, we know how to have a great time.”

“What resturant?”

“I have no idea, we just got here like three hours ago. Do you know a place?”

“Yeah, give me a map.” Cannon nonchalantly yawned and pulled out the map from his jacket. He slid it over to the girl while watching the others in the group. They were laughing while Poncho still had his arm in the air, begging him to come back.

“There,” she said, sliding the map back, “I circled my favorite restaurant, I’ll meet you guys there.”

“Alright, cool. We’ll be there around seven or so. I’m going to walk back now.”
Cannon nonchalantly walked back to the group without turning his head. As he stood beside Poncho he looked around.

“Well, what did you say to her?” asked Patel.

“Oh nothing. Hey Poncho, that girl is going to meet us at a restaurant at around seven so you better be ready.”

“Wait, what!” yelled Poncho, frantically zipping his jacket. The rest of them gave a quick cheer.

“Oh shit,” said Patel. “Poncho is getting some tonight!” They all cheered and laughed again while Poncho was shaking his head.

“Alright, can we now go and explore the city?” asked Fluffy to Patel.

“Yeah, let’s go. We’ll meet you at that restaurant later tonight.” Patel and Fluffy stormed off and went their own direction apart from each other.

“Well,” said Cannon, looking at his map, “I’m going to head to the coffee shops with Wahlburn and Spike. I think that would be my best option to waste time until this dinner thing I somehow started.” Cannon took off and disappeared in the crowds.
Clyde and Jeb looked at each other and then to Poncho. Poncho was staring at the ground, like he was paralyzed.

“Hey, what are you doing?” asked Clyde. Poncho jumped back to reality and shook his head quickly.

“N-Nothing.”

“Okay,” Clyde turned towards Jeb. “What are you going to do?”

“I dunno. I haven’t really thought of anything to do.”

“You could come with me I guess. All I’m doing is going to one or two different stores and I’m done with this place.”

“Alright, that sounds cool.” Clyde marked the area of where the two shops he wanted to go were located and looked back at Poncho. “You coming with us?”

“Nah man. I got to prepare for this dinner tonight. I’ll see you guys at the restaurant.” Poncho sketchily fast walked away from the scene leaving Clyde and Jeb to sigh.

“I swear, you would think that guy owned his own meth lab,” said Jeb.

“He probably does.”

Clyde and Jeb made their way through the city, looking at the different stores, citizens, sceneries, and buildings on their way. Soon, they came across a random roadblock, even though it was a pedestrian only zone. They both walked up to the roadblock and a construction worker.

“Sorry, you can’t pass over this bridge,” said a worker with his neon yellow shirt on. “We are trying to repair it.”

“Repair it? Why happened to it?” asked Clyde.

“It’s not broken or anything, it’s just that we are redoing the tiles on it.”

“Is that really necessary?” asked Jeb.

“Yeah, art is a big deal in Amsterdam. Look, there is a detour over in that alley to get over to that district. It’s only another block you have to walk.” The worker returned to his co-workers back at the bridge.

Clyde and Jeb walked the extra block to said alleyway that would take them to the district they were trying to get to. The alleyway was loaded with homeless ponies laying around on the ground.

“Great,” said Clyde. “Leave it to Amsterdam for having a detour in an alleyway.” They quickly walked past the hobos, trying to reach the bridge for safety. At the beginning of the bridge, a hobo jumped in front of them to stop them from passing.

“I know you,” said the hobo, staring into Jeb’s eyes.

“What are you talking about? I just got here a few hours ago.”

“No, you’re Prince Apollo!”

“Looks like we found a drunk one, Clyde. Let’s go.” Jeb ran hurriedly ran across the small bridge while Clyde slowly followed. Once across the bridge and back into a busy street, Clyde caught up with Jeb and walked beside him.

“Prince Apollo, huh?”

“It’s a long story.”

“I bet it is.”

“Do you want me to tell you now?”

Clyde shook his head. “No, it can wait for later if you want to tell me.”

After traveling the same busy street for ten minutes, Clyde and Jeb finally made it to P.C. Hooftstraat, the famous high class shopping street in Amsterdam. They both split up at this point, as they both wanted to go to different shops. Jeb went to buy some new fancy vests while Clyde went to the nearby jewelry stores. An hour later, they both met back in the center of the street.

“So, you ready to head back?” asked Jeb.

“Yeah, we still have a lot of time to spare until this dinner thing. Let’s take a canal boat because I don’t want to deal with those crazy homeless ponies again.”

“Agreed.”

Clyde and Jeb took the nearby canal station and got on a boat to travel to the restaurant. After a quick thirty minute canal session, they arrived at the restaurant marked on their map.

As they got off of the canal and paid the pony operating it, they saw Poncho sitting on the docks.

“Poncho! You’re here early,” said Jeb.

“Actually, I was here the whole time. I’m super nervous.”

“You do realize that this isn’t a date right?” asked Clyde. “We’re all going to be in there with you.”

“Yeah, but I just don’t want to be awkward out there.”

“Good luck with that...,” said Jeb under his breath. Jeb left them to enter the restaurant to use the bathroom.

“Hey Clyde, could you help me with something?” asked Poncho.

Clyde looked at him and quickly thought of all the things he could help him with at that very moment. “What is it?”

Poncho nervously looking around looked back at Clyde. “Could you tell me what was the very first thing you said to Rarity?”

Clyde quickly pondered the question and went back to a year and a few months ago in his mind. “I’m pretty sure the first direct thing I said straight to her was something like: “I could ask you the same thing.” Why did you ask me that?”

“Well, seeing how you are the only of us that is serious enough to be in a relationship for more than a year, I need your advice to not be awkward to a girl.”

Clyde laughed. “Why should I help you, when you’re the one who constantly bashes Rarity?”

Poncho grinned. “Because you owe me. I saved your life twice in the past two years.”

“Twice? I can understand South Beach, but where was the second time?”

“Back when you died and everyone else except Tyrone, I was the one who thought of the plan to use it to bring you guys back.” Poncho gave a large smile. “Without me, none of you would still be here, and actually, I would probably be eating some chips on my couch right now.”

Clyde shook his head. “I’ll give you half credit on that one. You’re not the one who wished me back though.”

“Half? I don’t think so.”

“Look, you had the idea, but you physically, or mentally in this case, did not bring me back. I could just give you credit for South Beach.”

“Alright, fine. Can you help me then?”

“I guess if I have to.”

“What should I say to her if she talks to me?”

Clyde looked across the water’s surface to see that the sun’s rays were almost touching the horizon. “It depends on the situation.”

“Whaaaaat?”

“Like, don’t be all douchey or act like a little bitch. You have to act all calm and collective and make sure you make her laugh at least once in the first few minutes.”

“Did that work for you?”

“No Poncho, I’ve been alone for the past two years feeling sorry for myself because I was so sketchy talking to her. I got so upset, I even bought her gifts today to remember why I hate my life so much,” said Clyde sarcastically.

“See, this is why we think you’re a douche sometimes. I wonder, do you ever act this way around Rarity?”

“Well, sarcasm is great so stop being a little bitch about it. As for your second question, no. Sarcasm is only fun talking to you.” Clyde stood up and stretched. “Is there anymore questions?”

“No, I think I’m good.” They walked up the dock stairs and entered the restaurant. The restaurant was chinese origin with the employees all dressed up. Probably the most interesting thing about the restaurant was that it was on one of the city’s lakes. Once Poncho and Clyde walked in, they saw Jeb sitting down in the waiting area.

“I got our reservations all set,” said Jeb, as Poncho and Clyde sat next to him. “Now we wait for the others.”

“I wish I knew this place was going to be this fancy,” said Poncho nervously looking around, “I look like I’m straight from the streets.”

“Compared to other places I’ve been, this isn’t even close to fancy,” said Clyde. “At least you don’t have to wear a suit and tie in here.”

As time passed, they saw multiple parties of ponies enter and leave the restaurant. At least half of them were dressed sophisticated-like, while the others were dressed in casual clothes. Thirty minutes of waiting later, Patel and Fluffy walked in.

“Oh hey guys, how was Amsterdam?” asked Jeb.

“Great!” said Fluffy. “Not only did we catch some super fútbol games, we got to witness the great art and architecture this city has.”

“Sounds fun, all we did was go shopping.”

“Hey, you wanted to tag along with me,” said Clyde.

“Where’s Cannon and that girl?” asked Patel, looking around.

“No idea,” said Poncho, “Maybe she wanted to stand me up!”

“It’s not a fucking date!” yelled the others.

Soon, Cannon walked in. After seeing his friends, he ran over. “My dudes! Who is ready to party!”

“We’re eating, not partying,” said Patel. “I hope this whole thing isn’t some stupid ass excuse to fill up time, because it’s almost Red Light District time boys.” They waited another five minutes for the girl from before to finally walk in the restaurant.

She walked up to the hostess and pointed to the group. The hostess nodded, grabbed menus, and waved them to follow her. After walking what seemed liked a mile and past nearly every customer, they finally sat down at a big circular table.
After the hostess left, they all sat there quite silently. Cannon, who sat next to Poncho and Clyde, hit Poncho in the leg to make him speak.

“H-Huh? Oh, so, uh, what exactly is your name?” asked Poncho to the girl. The others laughed, even the girl.

“It’s Bloem,” she said after she was done laughing.

“Bloem?” asked Cannon, “that sounds vaguely familiar.”

“It should,” said Bloem, “I went to the same university as you guys. Castle?” Everyone, except Fluffy, all gave an ‘Ahh point and nod’.

“Well shit, what are you doing way out here?” asked Cannon.

Bloem looked through the menu quickly and placed it down. “Probably the same reason as you guys, except the weed that is, to just explore this wonderful city.”

“You forgot to mention the hookers,” said Poncho. The guys all sighed.

“Really?” said Patel. “You’re not helping yourself if you mention hookers to a female.”

Poncho frowned and was about to speak, but the waiter came up to them.

“Herro,” said the waiter. They could tell that he hasn’t perfected their native language yet. “How can I help you today?”

The group all ordered their food and the waiter left them. The remainder of the dinner was mostly Cannon and the others yelling and making fun of Poncho whenever he spoke directly to Bloem. After a few insults, Poncho began yelling back at the others and the whole table was bickering back and forth. The bickering continued even when they were eating and after the dinner.

After everyone calmed down, mostly because they were full from their meals, their checks came.

“Shit, this place was expensive as fuck,” said Patel.

“Tell me about it,” said Fluffy.

Poncho nervously looked at his and at everyone else. He looked over at Bloem, who was pulling out some Amsterdam coins. “Hey,” he bravely said, “I’ll pay for yours.”

Bloem looked at him. “Really? You don’t have to, this was just a fun dinner with some friends.”

“Oh, well if-” Poncho stopped as Cannon his his leg again, “I mean, no, I’ll get it.” Poncho took out more of his coins, which made him run out of his supply.

“Thanks Poncho!” said Bloem. “I have to hurry up and leave anyway, I have to call my mother back at the hotel.” She quickly walked away from the table and disappeared out of the main doors.

“Do you think I did the right thing?” asked Poncho.

“Well, you did or you just got scammed out of your money,” said Cannon, wrapping an arm around his shoulder.

After paying, they all left the restaurant and looked at the time. Seeing how it was close to ten at night, if they started walking back to the coffee shop where Spike and Wahlburn were probably still at, they would make it back by around eleven, the time where the Red Light District is full of life.

Like they predicted, after walking through the lit streets of Amsterdam, at eleven they walked inside the coffee shop. They saw Bastiaan sitting at the bar, while Spike and Wahlburn were passed out on some bean bags in the corner.

“New friends!” said Bastiaan excitedly upon seeing the group. “How did Amsterdam fare?”

“Pretty great, but we’re ready for some Red Light action if you know what I mean!” yelled Cannon.

Bastiaan smirked, “Great, well let’s go!” Bastiaan led most of the group outside. Spike and Wahlburn stayed behind because they were sleeping and along with them, Clyde stayed behind seeing he had no reason to go there, and Jeb stayed behind because he was dubbed “too much of a bitch” to go with them..

Bastiaan led his pack across the small bridge to the district. As talked about, most of the buildings were lit up with red lights. Crowds of ponies gathered around the windows of the buildings, as a prostitute was usually dancing around in it.

“Alright dudes,” said Bastiaan, “I want to leave here by midnight, so hurry up and go crazy!” The group gave a cheer and all ran towards the crowds, while Poncho nervously walked. Instead of taking part of the activities, Poncho decided to look around instead. Five minutes to midnight, the others met back at the coffee shop.

“That shit was crazy!” yelled Cannon. “I’ll be sleeping good tonight boys.”

“Same,” said Fluffy.

“Dammit Spike!” yelled Wahlburn. “Why the hell didn’t to stop me so we could’ve went?”

“Dude...,” said Spike, who tripped himself. “I don’t know.”

After one last minute or so of socializing, they all boarded the bus again and Bastiaan drove off. Once back on the road towards the cottage, they all looked at the bright city of Amsterdam behind them.

Wasting Time

Upon the return to the cottage, since it was nearly one in the morning, most of the group decided to go to sleep in their room. While they were entering the cottage, they saw Tyrone and Junior still playing Greg the game console with a movement sensor. They were playing some dancing game and Tyrone got distracted by the group’s entrance by waving at them, which Junior took advantage of. Tyrone began yelling at Junior while the others either went to their rooms or got something to eat real quick before finally heading to their room.

Excluding Tyrone and Junior, only Clyde, Patel, and Jeb stayed awake for a bit longer. Patel was on his computer looking up random facts about the surrounding country and drawing maps in his notebook for future reference.

Clyde fulfilled his daily promise to Rarity, by calling her through a video chat program since it was only seven in the evening in Ponyville time. They talked for a few hours until Rarity noticed Clyde’s multiple yawns and told him to get some good rest, as she didn’t want to be the source of his late night fatigue. At first he didn’t want to end the call, but he soon gave in to her offer.

Jeb took the time to also doodle in his notebook, but unlike Patel, he drew random crests and emblems. He even tried drawing some landscapes, but after some unsuccessful attempts gave up.

The next morning, Junior was the first one awake. He looked up at Tyrone, who occupied the bed and stood close to him.

“Dad!” yelled Junior as loudly as possible.

Tyrone, who jolted awake, flew off the bed and crashed to the floor. “Junior! What the hell! I’ll kill ya!”

“Dad! It’s time for breakfast!”

“Son! Give me five damn minutes!” Tyrone jumped back onto his bed and pulled the covers over him. Junior sadly lowered his head and slowly walked into the hallway. He made his way to the main den and sat on the couch. He turned on the television and quietly watched it until Tyrone got up.

Two hours later, along with Tyrone, most of the others also woke up. Tyrone was the first one to walk into the den. He saw Junior sitting on the couch and yawned. “Sorry Junior, you still want that breakfast?”

“Ya!” Junior jumped off the couch and ran to the kitchen while Tyrone dragged himself behind. While Tyrone was getting cereal for Junior, Rivs and Sticky came into the kitchen.

“What time did the others get back?” asked Rivs, taking a breakfast bar from the shelves.

“‘Bout one,” replied Tyrone. He slid the cereal bowl to Junior and took out another bowl for himself.

“Did you beat him in that dancing game?” asked Sticky laughing.

“Hell no. I think Greg has it out with me or sumthing. It kept saying my dance moves didn’t match the character’s.”

“Stop making excuses dad! I totally outdanced you!” Junior laughed while trying to eat a mouthful of cereal with the milk and cereal spilling all over the table and floor.

“Junior!” yelled Tyrone. “What the hell are you doin’?” Tyrone grabbed a towel and threw it on the ground. “Clean it up!”

“But dad...,”

“Son!”

Junior sadly hopped off the chair and began scrubbing the floor with the towel. After a few more scrubs he washed it out and continued with the table.

“Yo T,” said Rivs, “that ain’t the way to clean the floor and table.”

“Shieet mayne. Dis is what my dad did to me when I spilled something on the floor.”

“I think he was just trying to punish you real good,” said Sticky, laughing again.

“Yeah, you’re probably right.”

After Junior finished with his mess, he ran off to the other room to play Greg the game console. Tyrone, Sticky, and Rivs, all went into the den to watch some basketball game highlights back in their country.

“You guys still play on the Crusaders right?” asked Tyrone. “With Clyde?”

“Yeah, but we’re in the middle of a lockout season right now,” said Rivs still watching the highlight reel. “I don’t know when we’ll play again.”

“We only signed the basic one year contract though,” said Sticky, “I know we might play more in the future, but I don’t know if Clyde will.”

“Why is that? He thinks he ain’t good enough?”

Sticky laughed. “No, he’s undoubtedly the best on the team, he even got his name for Rookie of the Year thrown around last year.”

Tyrone smirked. “I taught him all I knew. Why does he want to quit then? He could make it big with those sweet contracts worth millions.”

“Road games,” answered Rivs and Sticky simultaneously.

“He can’t handle the pressure?”

“Nooo. You know how in basketball, some teams go on a road trip with like five-plus away games before their next home game?” Sticky turned towards Tyrone.

“Yeah.”

“Well, sometimes some of those trips can last two weeks.”

“Does he have a pet or something he has to take care of?”

“No!” yelled Rivs, “he doesn’t like leaving his girlfriend! Did you not pay attention to his shoulder sleeve?”

“Brah, I’ve been jail for a year almost. I don’t know any shit about what you guys do.” Tyrone got up and stretched. “Where the hell is the others?”

“Shit dude calm down,” said Cannon rubbing his eye. Behind him were Spike, Wahlburn and Patel.

“We going back to Amsterdam today boys?” asked Wahlburn. “I’m ready for a round two.”

“Calm yourself,” said Patel. “I think we should stay here for today, I mean, this party in this place is what, two days away?”

“Yeah, that sounds cool,” said Tyrone. “I’m definitely going to the city tomorrow so one of y’all is going to need to watch Junior.”

“Have Clyde do it or something,” said Cannon. “He probably won’t go back anyway.”

“Where is he? Sleeping?” asked Tyrone.

“Yeah he is,” said Patel. “His door is still closed.”

“Aight, I got him.” Tyrone walked by them back into the hallway. He passed Jeb, who waved at him, but he ignored him. At Clyde’s door he knocked then shoved it open. Clyde was still passed out under his covers. “Yo dawg, wake your ass up.”

Clyde slowly opened his eyes and looked around. “T? What time is it?”

“It’s around noon, but it’s actually ‘wake your ass up’ time.” Tyrone pushed him out of his bed.

“What the hell man? I’m trying to get rest. I didn’t go to sleep until four last night.”

“That ain’t my problem man.” Tyrone walked back out into the hallway and looked back. “We about to do something, hurry your ass up.”

“Fine.”

Tyrone went back to the den to the others. Everyone else, including Poncho and Fluffy who woke up during Tyrone’s absence, was sitting around in the fireplace and watching some fútbol game. Fluffy and Patel were getting into it, while the others looked bored. After a few minutes, Clyde strided out of the hallway and into the den.

“Dawg,” said Tyrone, beckoning to him. “Come hang out wit your boys.”

Clyde walked over to the empty spot on one of the couches and sat down beside Jeb. He quickly yawned. “So, what are we doing today?”

“Good question,” said Patel. “Anyone have any ideas?” Wahlburn slowly raised his hoof and Patel glared at him as he lowered it back down. “Something that doesn’t involve weed?”

“Well,” said Cannon, who then chuckled, “we could get ‘turnt up’ with all that alcohol in the basement.”

“How do you know about that?” asked Fluffy.

“Oh, I was exploring this cottage just for the hell of it last night, when I went into the basement and saw a wall filled with bottles of wine, rum, whiskey, and beer.”

“It’s probably for that party so we aren’t doing that,” said Patel.

“Fine!” Cannon got up and walked into the kitchen.

“How ‘bout we play some card games or some shit?” asked Tyrone.

“Like blackjack or poker?” asked Poncho.

“Nah dawg, that’s pussy shit. We’re playing Extreme Go Fish.” Tyrone looked at everybody dead in the eyes.

“Go Fish?” asked Wahlburn. “You’re fucking joking me right?”

“Does it look like I’m joking? I am for real.”

“Go Fish is a game for foals.”

“That’s why we are playing Extreme Go Fish dawg.”

“Alright, so how does one play Extreme Go Fish?” asked Patel.

“Aight, so the dealer hands two cards to each individual and then we start asking for cards, if you cannot give a card to the player that asked, the player that asked must draw a card. Three of a kind is a match which you place down, and the first to run out of cards wins.”

Patel stared at him blankly. “So, it’s the same god damn thing as regular Go Fish, except we start with only two cards instead of the normal five or seven?”

“Yeah mayne.”

“That’s fucking stupid.”

“We playin’ or not?”

“Yeah, I’ll play.”
Tyrone and the others pulled the den table and the couches to the middle of the room and began dealing out the cards. “Hey yo, Cannon, you playin’?”

Cannon stuck his head over the kitchen counter, “Yeah, give me a few.” Tyrone took two cards from the deck and put them beside him for Cannon. He glanced at the other multiple two card piles he made.

“We have eleven homies playin’ some Extreme Go Fish right now.”

“Sweet,” said Cannon sitting down beside Tyrone, “who’s starting this?”

“I’ll start” said Spike, who was to Tyrone’s left, “Yo Wahlburn my man, you have any deuces?”

“Nah brother, Go-the-fuck-Fish.” Spike sighed and drew a card.

“Alright time to win on the first turn,” said Patel, who was next in line. “Jeb, you have any threes?”
Jeb looked at his two cards. “Nope.”

“Fuck,” said Patel, drawing a card. He looked over to his left at Clyde who was staring at him. “What do you want?”

“Hey Patel,” said Clyde, “you got any threes?”

“Aw fuck you,” said Patel handing over his card. Clyde smirked as he saw it.

“Isn’t it weird that I win by getting my favorite card?” He laid down his two threes and also his newly acquired three of diamonds. “I win.”

“Aw what the hell!” yelled the others as they threw their cards down in rage.

“Can’t hate on the three of diamonds,” said Clyde.

“Fuck off you bias bastard,” said Patel.

“Bias? What are you talking about?”

“I know exactly what you’re trying to say, and I don’t like. You know you’re the most bias one of all of us.”
Clyde shook his head. “I don’t think so, Sticky or Rivs could have me beat.”

“It’s true,” said Sticky, “We both wear on favorite university colors everyday.”

“See?” said Clyde, crossing his arms.

“You’re still bias as fuck,” said Patel. “Don’t even say you aren’t.”

“Okay, prove me wrong then.”

“Alright,” said Patel. He looked around pondering a question to ask him. He looked at the others, who stared at him back waiting for his question, and pondered some more. He looked at Clyde this time and it struck him. “Got it.”

“I’m ready,” said Clyde.

“Alright ‘not bias’ Clyde, what is your opinion on the small town of Ponyville?” Patel leaned back to wait his answer, while the others shot their looks towards Clyde.

“I think it’s a rather nice, relaxing town. I mean, you can pretty much find something to do there.”

“Is that so? I have another question for you,” said Patel.

“Yeah?”

“What is your opinion on the small town of Ponyville without Rarity? Like, she never lived there or existed.”

Clyde looked at him with a serious gaze. “I think it’s a pretty boring and lame town.”

“Ha!” yelled Patel. “There it is! That was a bias remark!”

Clyde laughed. “That wasn’t being bias at all! If she wasn’t a part of that town, that’s a damn fact that town would be boring.”

“AF?” asked Cannon.

“What?” asked Clyde. “What does that mean?”

“As fuck,” answered Cannon.

“Oh. Yeah, AF.”

“Alright whatever ‘not bias’ guy.” Patel stretched and looked up at the fútbol game that was still on. “What are we doing now?”

“Super Extreme Go Fish?” suggested Tyrone.

“Is that with one card?” asked Jeb.

“Yeah dude.”

“Count me in,” said Jeb. Tyrone asked the others if they wanted to play, which most of them decided to anyway. As he was dealing out the cards, Junior ran up to him.

“Dad!” yelled Junior in his face. Tyrone pushed him aside.

“Son, what do you want! We are trying to play some Super Extreme Go Fish!”

“Dad! Greg won’t let me play the dancing game!”

Tyrone looked at him with confusion. “What do you mean? We were playin’ it last night fine.”

“He won’t pick up my body outline or something.”

“Is there good lighting?”

“Yeah! I even have extra candles and flashlights but those don’t work either.” Junior frowned and sat down beside him.

Tyrone put his arm around Junior and sighed. “It’s because you’re black son.” Junior frowned harder then ran off back to play Greg the game console.

Soon a doorbell rang throughout the cottage. They all looked at the doors behind them. Soon, Bastiaan ran out of the hallway and opened up the doors.

“My friends!” he said as he waved them in. As the two stallions walked in, Cannon gave a gasp and pointed.

“No way! It’s the gay pirate and the freaky puppet dude!”

“I’m not that freaky,” said Clark, “well I might be in bed, but that’s my little secret.” Yarlin chuckled while the others yelled in disgust.

“Friends of Fluffy and Fluffy, these two will be staying here until my party in two days is over,” said Bastiaan. “Make them part of your game you are doing or something, I have to keep ordering my supplies. Bastiaan trotted off back into the hallway while Yarlin and Clark stood there in silence.

“So, you guys wanna play some Super Extreme Go Fish?” asked Tyrone.

“I would be delighted lad!” yelled Yarlin, who quickly ran up to the table. “Clark, get over here you scurvy sea dog!”

“Ooohoo,” replied Clark, “I’m coming!” He sat down beside Yarlin and looked at the others. “How have you guys been doing?”

“Fine, I guess,” said Cannon. Cannon noticed a small name tag on Clark’s coat. After a closer look, without getting too close, Cannon figured out his last name. “McIovin? Is that a ‘l’ as in ‘idiot’ or an ‘I’ as in ‘lick’?”

“It’s an ‘I’, as in ‘I just love puppets and boys so much’.” Clark giggled.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” asked Wahlburn. “Why do you have to be a flamboyantly gay dude who enjoys puppets? You just surpassed Poncho on the ‘Sketchy Scale’.”

“Hey!” yelled Poncho, “I’m not that sketchy!”

“Yes, you are,” said Jeb.

“Look,” said Clark, “I don’t like judging others and you shouldn’t either. Everyone on this world is different and that’s what makes it fun. Especially for me and little boys.”

Wahlburn jumped off the couch. “Nope. I can’t do this. I’m going back to my room to smoke some weed.”

“Wait, take me with you!” yelled Spike. He jumped onto his back and Wahlburn ran off back to the hallway.

For the next few hours, the remainder of the group talked to Yarlin and Clark about the past while playing random card games Tyrone came up with. Clark told them of his life changing story when he found some puppets when he was just a small colt. Throughout the weird tale, the others tried not to get completely creeped out.

“So you’re saying you use your puppets to fondle young colts?” asked Cannon amazed.

“Yeah, I know it’s sort of weird...” Clark turned red and frowned.

“Yeah, well, make sure you tell me where you live so I will never have to worry about you in my town.” Cannon got up and returned to the kitchen to find food.

“Same,” said Fluffy, dragging out the word. “What tiempo is it anyway?”

“It’s already seven,” said Patel. He then realized the time and acted surprised. “Holy shit, we literally dicked off the whole day.”

“I’m about to dick off the whole night too, if you know what I mean,” said Clark, giggling towards Yarlin.

“You sly lad!” replied Yarlin. “I’ll give you somethin’ you’ll never forget.” They continued giggling until Tyrone got up.

“Yo dawgs, cut that shit out, I’m getting freaked out.”

“Sorry matey, we’ll try to contain ourselves next time,” apologized Yarlin.

“It’s aight dawg.” Tyrone walked into the kitchen and yelled back out to the den, “which one of yous are hungry like me?”

“I could go for some food,” said Poncho getting up.

“Of course you could,” said Jeb.

“What’s that suppose to mean?” asked Poncho viciously. “You making a joke towards me, you asshole?”

“Nothing,” said Jeb with a smirk. Jeb left for the kitchen with Poncho following him closely, trying to make Jeb repeat his comment.

Before any of the others could also journey to the kitchen, the doorbell rang again. Within five seconds, Bastiaan slid out of the hallway and halted at the doors. Once the door was open, the group at the den could see a delivery dude with a stack of pizza boxes. Bastiaan took them then slammed the door shut.

“Friends! I ordered pizza!” he quickly placed the stack of boxes on the kitchen counter and sorted the different kinds out. After content with the assorted boxes, he reached up in one of his cabinets and pulled out some fancy gold-trimmed plates. “My party is almost fully planned, just need a few more ‘supplies’ and I’ll be good to go.”

“What are these supplies? Some sort of secret weed or something?” asked Wahlburn, who just seemed to appear out of nowhere. Spike was on his back passed out.

“Yes!” replied Bastiaan, “there’s been a rumor that someone here in Amsterdam found this secret type of bud that if you even smell it, it makes you instantly high.”

Wahlburn’s face gleamed. “Brother, you better save some of that for me.”

“Don’t worry friend! There should be plenty for my party and then some!”

“Awesome.”

After everyone ate they all returned to the den and slouched down on the couches. They all had at least six or seven slices, except for Poncho who had twelve. Yarlin and Clark left after eating to go to their room. After watching some boring fútbol game in silence, Tyrone turned it off. “Fuck this shitty sport.”

“Hey man, what the fuck,” said Patel. “I was watching that!”

“Same!” yelled Fluffy.

“Who cares about that shit dawgs, why don’t you watch a cool sport like basketball?”

Patel rolled his eyes. “Basketball is lame. It’s filled with a bunch of-,”

“Don’t you say that word man!” retorted Tyrone, who interrupted him. “I’m cool with you dudes so you can say it sometimes, but I won’t allow you to use it with that attitude.”

“Okay, but it’s still a shitty sport.” Patel looked at Fluffy, who nodded his head in agreement.

“Sticky, Rivs, Clyde, dawgs. You stand with me on this right?” Tyrone looked over at them in desperation.

“Of course,” said Sticky, “basketball is hype.”

“It really does get you pumped up,” said Rivs reminiscing about some game winning shots he made in his life.

Tyrone glanced over at Clyde. “What about you man? You even have a damn basketball on your ass.”

Clyde looked over at the dead television screen. “You know my stand, but since I’m apparently bias, my opinion doesn’t matter.”

“He’s right,” said Patel. “ Wait, why are we even doing this?”

Tyrone looked at him with the same confusion. “I don’t know dawg.”

“Group hug?” asked Fluffy. Tyrone and Patel looked at each other first and shrugged. All three of them embraced for a few seconds then stepped away from each other. Cannon began a slow clap. Soon, the whole room was clapping for the hug.

“You guys are the best,” said Tyrone, wiping away a tear. “I missed you guys. Other than lifting, jail has been a terrible time for a baller like me.”

“We miss you too T,” said Clyde, wrapping his arm around him. “You know, we haven’t balled together for almost two years now.”

Tyrone grinned. “You tryna hit the hoops with me tomorrow? I bet we could have some fun.”

“Don’t you want to go to the city tomorrow?”

“Nah, fuck that place mayne.”

“We’ll play you two tomorrow,” said Rivs, including Sticky into his comment. “2 on 2 sounds real good.”

“You’re on.” Tyrone grasped Rivs’ hoof to accept the challenge. All four of them nodded and sat back down in empty seats like nothing occurred.

“Well, that was cute,” said Cannon sarcastically, “what are we going to do tonight now?” They all sat there thinking of what to do. Wahlburn kept suggesting weed, but his idea was always shot down. Cannon’s alcohol suggestion was also declined every time.

“What about ‘Truth or Dare’?” suggested Jeb.

The others glared at him. Cannon began laughing. “You mean that game where teenage girls go around a circle a say pointless shit or dare another one to do something stupid. Get the fuck out of here.” He began chugging a bottle of water.

Jeb crossed his arms. “I guess you can’t handle it then...”

Cannon stopped his drinking and looked over at him again. “What did you just say? Fine, dare me then.”

“Alright, Cannon, I dare you to stop drinking alcohol for the remainder of this trip.” The room was filled with ‘oohs’.

“Ah fuck that. I need to get hammered at this party.” Cannon began drinking his water again.

Sticky smiled. “Pussy no balls.”

Cannon coughed up his water and threw the empty bottle on the ground. “Fuck you say? Fine, I’ll do it.”

“Alright, if anyone catches you drinking any alcoholic beverage, you own him money,” said Jeb

“How much we talking?” said Cannon, sadly.

“1000 bits.”

“3,500 dollars! What the fuck you think I’m made out of?”

“Says the basketball player making 100k bits a year,” said Jeb. “The PH doesn’t even give half of that.”

Cannon slumped down on the couch. “Well, no more drinking for me for another few days. Who’s next?”

“I don’t know,” said Jeb. “My guess is that it’s your turn to ask someone.”

“Cool.” He glanced around the room, looking for his prey. “My dude Wahlburn....”

“Brother.”

“Truth or Dare broman.”

Wahlburn stroked his chin. “Truth.”

“You actually don’t like weed, you only do it because someone at our school got you into it because of peer pressure and all you wanted to do is fit in with that crowd?” The room’s eyes shifted towards Wahlburn for his response.

Wahlburn gulped. “You got me, it’s true.” He frowned and shook his head.

“Really?” asked Spike. He didn’t want to believe his new best friend was a phoney.

“Nah, I’m just fucking with you. I fucking love this shit.” Spike cheered while the others sighed. “Sticky, Truth or Dare?”

“Dare,” said Sticky, “I ain’t got no worries.”

“I dare you and Rivs to switch clothes for the rest of the month.” Sticky and Rivs’ jaws dropped while the room was filled with ‘oh shit!’

“But that means, I would have to wear....”

“Yep,” said Wahlburn. “I could give two fucks about your favorite universities, but I do know you both hate each other’s with a burning passion, and that you wear those damn colors every damn day.”

“How long?” asked Rivs.

“Until the end of the basketball season.”

“That’s in freaking April!” yelled Sticky.

“Unless you want to give me 1000 bits each for drug money, you better get ready.”

Sticky and Rivs looked at each other and nodded simultaneously. “Fuck that, we’ll give you money.” Wahlburn smiled.

“Poncho!” yelled Sticky. Poncho jumped and started to look around nervously.

“W-What?” he replied. He kept shifting his eyes around the room.

“You haven’t really said that much today, so I got to ask, Truth or Dare?”

“Uh...Truth?”

“No, don’t be a little bitch.”

“B-But...”

“I dare you to get a blumpkin before the end of this trip.”

Poncho coughed and began to spaz out. “W-What?”

“You heard me.” Sticky looked him dead in the windows of his soul. The rest of them started laughing at Poncho’s reactions. Poncho was zipping his hoodie up and down. “Since you’re not answering me Poncho, I deca dog dare you.”

The room all went crazy, like the bench of a basketball team after a incredible dunk just happened, at the mention of the deca dog dare. Poncho now was zipping his hoodie up and down at such a rapid rate, they all thought his hoodie would catch ablaze.

“Damn!” yelled Tyrone. “That’s the greatest of all dares!”

“I know,” said Sticky smiling, “what do you say Poncho?”

After he stopped with his hoodie shenanigans, Poncho looked up at him. “W-What do I have to do?”

“Easy, just get a blumpkin before we reach back down in Canterlot. You can get one tomorrow, maybe at this party, hell, even on the airplane if you really wanted too.”

“O-On an airplane?!” Poncho began to stutter. “D-Do you know how unsanitary that has to be?”

“Then get one at the party,” said Sticky. “Lots of ponies are going to be here.”

“Y-Yeah but...”

“Nope, you have to do it. Like, I’m not even joking, by the law of the deca dog, you have to do it.” Sticky and most of the others began snickering.

Poncho frowned and began to look down at the floor. The others kept trying to talk to him, but he refused to speak to anyone. The rest stopped their Truth or Dare game and resumed watching another fútbol game. After thirty minutes, one by one, they decided it was time to retire for the night. Poncho still sat there in silence as his friends exited the den one after another. The crew did their nightly routine before falling asleep, and except a few residents, the cottage stayed quiet all night.

'Till the Sun Comes Up

The next morning, Bastiaan woke the others up around nine to ask if they wanted to go to the city with him. All but Tyrone, Junior, Clyde, Rivs, and Sticky, went back to the city for one last adventure. As Bastiaan, Wahlburn, Spike, and Cannon, stayed in the same coffee shop from before all day, the few others decided to split up. Patel and Jeb wanted to go take a look at the various museums in the city and learn more about past history around this section of the world. Fluffy took some canal tour boats and later, met back up with Patel and Jeb. Poncho went to try some foreign cuisines that he couldn’t eat in Verona. Clark and Yarlin also went on different paths that day. Yarlin wanted to see if his Cap’n had returned and stayed near the ports all day, while Clark put on another puppet show for the young.

The others who stayed behind at the cottage set up a makeshift basketball hoop outside on the pavement in front of the cottage. After taking a few practice shots and warming up, they split themselves into two teams. One team was composed of Rivs and Sticky while Tyrone and Clyde were made of the second team. Junior sat on the side, cheering, yelling, or coaching Tyrone. Even though Tyrone and Clyde haven’t played together in nearly two years, they remained on synch with each other on every possession. They played until Rivs and Sticky forfeited due to the lack of scoring against Tyrone and Clyde.

“Good game,” said Rivs. He extended his hoof for Tyrone to shake.

“You quittin’ now?” Tyrone pushed his hoof away and picked up the ball again. He stood in front of Rivs and threw the ball behind him. After watching the ball sail in the air, it went through the hoop on the other side of their small court. “How about we play ‘PIG’?”

Rivs shook his head and laughed. “Hell no man.” They leaned alongside the small garden wall near them to take a water break. “Man T, it would be awesome if you could play with us for the Crusaders. We need a guy like you.”

Tyrone looked up to the sky to feel a small breeze. “Yeah mayne. I was the most badass baller I knew for the longest of times.”

“Knew?” asked Sticky.

“Yeah,” replied Tyrone. He glanced to Clyde, who remained silent up until this point. “I taught Clyde basketball when I first met him years ago. I can safely say he’s way better than me now. I guess that quote, “Poor is the pupil who does not surpass his master”, is true after all.”

“Damn Tyrone,” said Sticky, wiping away a single tear. “That’s the deepest thing I’ve ever heard you say.”

“Nah mayne, I heard that from a movie before. I just wanted to use it for something.” Tyrone laughed.

“I guess I’m the master now,” said Clyde with a joking nature. “Any of you want to be my pupil?”

Sticky waved him away. “Get out of here you tool.” They all laughed and resumed their basketball actions for another hour or so. When they decided they had enough for one day, they all went inside to watch some foreign basketball game that pitted two teams near the Amsterdam region against each other.

At roughly eight at night, Bastiaan returned with the others. They all ate, played some cards, and retired early that night, for a party was coming and the trip to Amsterdam was drawing to a close.

The next morning, Bastiaan woke everyone up at noon so they could help him set up the party. After going to each room, he noticed that Jeb was missing along with his items. All that was left was a wig and a bucket of green paint. Confused, he asked the others in the den after they all gathered about his absence.

“Jeb? I don’t fucking know what happened to him,” said Cannon.

“You said there was green paint and a random wig just laying there on the floor next to his bed?” asked Patel. “That’s not weird at all.”

“It’s the same green hue as his coat color,” said Bastiaan. “Maybe he painted himself?”

Wahlburn began laughing hysterically. “What a little bitch! He disguised himself all this time!”

“Maybe he’s trying to hide something from us?” suggested Poncho. “I mean, I would do the same thing.”

“Yeah, well, at least you are more fun to be around,” said Sticky, patting Poncho on the back. “Just don’t be a Jeb and ditch your friends.”

“Actually, that’s what we call a ‘Clyde’ moment,” said Cannon, jokingly. He nudged Clyde with his hoof. Clyde responded by a simple shoulder shrug.

“Well, you can worry about Jeb later,” resumed Bastiaan, “my party is only a few hours away, and I don’t have anything set up yet.”

Since they did stay at Bastiaan’s cottage for free the entire week, it was only fair if they helped him out. They split up into different groups to cover the party stations that would be scattered all throughout the cottage and property.

One group was in charge of all food, beverages, and trash bins in each area. Cannon wanted to be the courier to the basement to fetch all alcoholic drinks. Poncho was the food guy, and even snuck in some quick bites before anyone saw him. Spike and Wahlburn got the trash bags and bins and placed them near every door.

The second group was in charge of setting up a small stage in the backyard. Bastiaan told them a local indie band was going to play there that night and he wanted Clyde, Tyrone, and Junior to set up as many chairs out there as possible. Since it was going to be a live band, they placed the chairs near the back, close to the cottage patio with higher elevation, to see over the inevitable mosh pit.

The last group, that included Patel, Fluffy, Yarlin, Clark, Sticky and Rivs, were all in charge of security. If they saw any party guest attempt to steal, they were to be thrown out immediately. Seeing how this party was to cover the whole property, not just the cottage, they had to take them past the property gate, where Fluffy would be positioned, who took the tickets to get in.

After all was set up to plan, with only a few minutes to spare, the crew rested in the den. “Well my new friends, I can’t thank you enough. I think this year’s party is going to be the biggest one yet!” Bastiaan smiled and ran around the room, shaking everyone’s hoof.

“How many ponies are actually going to be here?” asked Patel. “You never did tell us.”

“Oh, not that many at all. Only around 100 thousand or so.”

“One hundred thousand!” exclaimed Tyrone, “that shit is like a stadium crowd!”

“And then some.” Bastiaan smiled. “Well, it’s show time boys.” He left them to go change into a more suitable outfit. The others stood there for a minute before Fluffy quickly ran out of the door to go and be the bouncer of the event. When the door opened, the group saw the huge sea of ponies waiting outside of the gates of the cottage.

“This is fucking ridiculous,” said Cannon.

“I know brother. There won’t be any more weed!” Wahlburn poked Spike in the side to get him to follow and quickly disappeared behind the walls of the kitchen. Clark and Yarlin decided to stay outside and patrol the grounds all night while Sticky and Rivs would be patrolling in the cottage itself.

Within half an hour, the cottage was nearly packed tight with various ponies standing around chatting to one another. Others were standing in the crowded and compact kitchen, eating food. Outside of the cottage, the grounds and garden was also being filled with company.

Soon, not even forty minutes after the first guest arrived, there were so many guests, that no one could move around freely. Ponies had to push at least ten others just to move five yards. The last guest entered the property in under an hour since the first entered.

Bastiaan had the cottage lit up, and the area around it, with different colored strobe lights. Due to the sheer amount of guests there, no one really paid attention to them. The stage also used some strobe lights while the band was getting set up to play. Most of the outside crowd gathered around the stage, but it was still difficult to move about.

Inside the cottage was no better. It was so cramped and compacted, movement was twice as hard to travel through than the outside. Also, it was so loud, no one could really understand what anyone was saying. Since the ponies of the area was used to all of the noise in previous parties of Amsterdam, most of them communicated by just moving their mouths to the words and they could understand fine. Another downside to staying in the cottage was that it was so smoky and filled with the smell of marijuana.

Cannon found refuge and was in charge of the basement bar that only he and a few, as in a hundred, others knew about. Being the bartender, he was able to try out and drink any type of beer he desired. He even was able to get some tip money for his secretive service.

The party raged on in full swing for the next few hours. The outdoor band was playing now, which made the cottage a little less crowded, but nothing too special. Patel, trying to get away from the crowd, moved his way towards the hallway towards his room. As the whole hallway was filled, he decided to enter someone else’s until they left. He made it to the third door on the left side of the hallway, and shoved it open. He quickly closed it back up and turned around.

Clyde was sitting on the bed, with his headphones over his ears. Once he saw Patel, he lifted off one of the sides of his headphones and waved. As Patel got closer he attempted to talk.

“It’s really loud!” yelled Clyde. “I’m not a fan!”

“I know!” replied Patel. “It’s not as bad in here, but we still have to yell so we can understand each other!”

“So, how are you doing!”

“I’m good! What about you!”

“Okay! I’ve been trying to tune out the noise from the party and sit here and listen to some songs, but that’s not really working out too good!”

Patel nodded. “I’ll leave you be then! See you later!” Patel walked back to the door and turned back around for a quick glance. Clyde replaced his headphones and gave Patel a small ‘good luck’ salute. Patel saluted back and braced for the horde.

Once back in the hallway, Patel slid against the walls towards his own room. Lucky for him, it was only two doors down, or so he thought. As he was against the wall, some random guest shoved another one into him, which surprised him and knocked him down. On the floor, he began to crawl up the wall for support, trying to get back on his four legs. Soon, another guest ran into him, which knocked him back down. Before he could move, the band singer from outside yelled that they wanted to create a huge moshpit outside. Since the cottage had speakers that were connected to the stage, everyone inside heard the message. Excited, the horde of the crowd trampled all over him to rush outside. Patel laid on the floor for a few seconds to recover some energy, then resumed his slow crawl back to his room. He entered his room and flopped on top of the bed, hoping to just fall asleep right then and there. The next thing Patel remembered, the sound of the party instantly subdued.

Homecoming

As a beam of sunlight hit Patel the next morning, he jumped out of bed. He looked around and saw that his door was literally missing. The floor was scattered with shards of broken glass and broken mugs that even covered most of the hallway floor. He slowly stepped over them and made his way to the den. He found Sticky and Rivs sleeping on the couches.

Like the hallway scene, there were broken glass mugs all over the floor in the den, kitchen, and foyer with the main doors. As Patel walked around and looked at the carnage, Cannon slowly walked up from the basement and into the kitchen.

“Man, looks everyone really did get ‘turnt up’,” said Cannon. He began laughing and gave a victory hoof pump.

“I’ll say.” They both wandered around the cottage searching for the others. Other than those two, the others were all still sleeping. Sticky and Rivs were in the den, Tyrone, Junior, and Clyde were in their respective rooms, Yarlin and Clark were sleeping together on a pool table, Fluffy was on the lowest step on small concrete staircase to the cottage, Wahlburn and Spike were beside some bongs on the back patio of the cottage that overlooked the stage, Bastiaan was laying in the middle of the mosh pit site, and Jeb was gone before the party even began.

“Wait just a second,” said Patel. He rubbed his eyes as he wasn’t used to even waking up this early at all. “Where’s our Poncho friend at?”

“I have no idea, we checked all around here.” Cannon sat down on an empty chair beside the sleeping Rivs. “Actually, hold that thought, I got to take a shit.” Cannon quickly, and quietly, ran towards the bathroom. As he opened the door, he busted out laughing. “Oh no fucking way!”

Patel ran over to him. “What?” As he peeked inside the bathroom, he saw Poncho laying on the floor near the toilet. Beside him was that one mare from the restaurant they ate in together only a few days ago, Bloem. Cannon kept laughing and Patel began to clap.

Poncho jolted awake at the sound of the noise. “What?” he asked as he rubbed his head.

Cannon momentarily stopped laughing to talk to him. “Poncho, my fucking dude! You did it! You actually got a blumpkin!”

“Huh?” said Poncho as he looked around. Once he saw the toilet he began to panic. Soon, he saw Bloem beside him. After realizing what happened, he placed his hooves on his head and began to shout. “Ahh!”

“Calm the hell down,” said Patel. “You should be thankful for being this lucky.”

“You know what? I don’t even have to go take a shit anymore! I’ll leave you two alone.” Cannon closed the door and began laughing again. Patel followed him.

The two waited in the kitchen for everyone else to wake up. After waiting close to an hour, Fluffy opened the main doors and walked inside.

“I don’t even know how I got there,” said Fluffy, pointing to the outside stairs.

“I don’t know a lot of shit that happened last night,” said Patel.

“Yeah, apparently Poncho got a blumpkin last night too.” Cannon sighed.

Fluffy quickly ran over to the kitchen counter and pulled out a stool. He jumped on it and placed his two hooves over his mouth and slammed his elbows on the counter. “Tell me about it!”

Before anyone could speak, Rivs and Sticky sat up and began to talk to the others. Once Poncho’s blumpkin was talked about, they too ran over to learn about it. As Patel was about to speak, Tyrone and Junior walked into the den. This cycle continued until everyone was in the room, except Poncho. Once Poncho walked into the den, the others all faced him and began clapping and applauding. Tyrone even gave a whistle or two.

“How are you doing sunshine?” asked Cannon.

“Fuck off Schultz,” said Poncho with a bitter attitude.

“So lad,” said Yarlin, “I heard you had your first blumpkin last night. Wasn’t it just as good as findin’ some buried treasure?”
Poncho refused to answer and just walked past them all. He began searching for some food, but gave up after a minute of finding nothing.

“Well Clark, I think it’s that time,” said Yarlin sadly.

“No! Don’t leave me!” Clark ran up to him and hugged him tightly. “I don’t ever want you to leave me.”

“I told you lad, it’s time for this annual family meeting.”

“Family meeting?” asked Patel. “You mean the Xarlin, Pharlin, and yourself family meeting?”

“Aye.”

“Where is this at?”

“Oh, just somewhere deep in the western desert of Equestria. It’s some sort of secret base, but Arlin took it over a while back.”

Patel stroked his chin. “Interesting, when is this meeting?”

Yarlin took out a small pocket notepad. “It says the second month of the new year.”

“That’s only a few weeks away, seeing how next week is Hearth’s Warming Eve,” said Patel. “Do you mind if you somehow sneak me into that meeting?”

Yarlin shook his head. “I don’t care matey! Seeing how we are all friends here, I don’t see the harm of you being part of the annual meeting! I don’t know why you would though.”

Patel glanced away. “Oh, it’s nothing. I just want to see how different you all are, that’s all. I guess we should be starting to pack, our plane leaves at six tonight.”

“Alright laddy! Care if Clark and I join your voyage in the air?”

Clark’s face lit up. “You mean it? You want me to go with you?”

Yarlin gave a creepy smile. “Aye.”

“Not at all,” said Cannon. “We have open spots up now because Jeb is gone anyways.”

“Do you think we should wait for him? I mean, he could have just left the cottage due to the party?” Poncho looked around to see if anyone cared about his opinion.

“No, fuck that guy,” said Cannon. “He can stay in this city.”

“Well-”

The sound of a doorbell rang throughout the cottage. Before anyone could go and open the door, Bastiaan came out of the hallway in a new set of clothes and opened the door. Bastiaan talked to the pony at the door then looked back towards the group. He have a nod and allowed the pony to enter the cottage. Bastiaan departed the den while Tyrone gave a gasp as he saw BC walk inside.

“BC? What is your ass doing here?”

“T! I had to tell you dawg, I lost your son!” BC began to wipe tears from his eyes. “I can’t find that lil’ dude anywhere!”

“Yo dawg-”

“No, I know you want to beat my ass so do it already! I tried dawg, I just couldn’t find him.”

Tyrone walked up to his homie and punched him in the face. “Calm your ass down! Junior is here with me!” Tyrone helped BC up and faced the hallway. “Junior! Get your ass out here!”

In a few seconds, Junior came running out of Tyrone’s room with a game remote. He stood by the hallway entrance and started to stomp. “Dad! I was just about to beat a level!”

“Son! Don’t you dare yell at me!”

Junior frowned. “Sorry dad.”

“It’s aight. Tell BC here, you ain’t dead or missing.”

“BC! I ain’t dead or missing!” Junior looked back at the hallway. “Can I go back now?”

“Yeah, get outta here before I bust your ass for no reason.” Tyrone gave a chuckle. Junior laughed too then quickly dashed back to the bedroom. “See BC, you don’t gots to worry.”

BC wiped his face of nervousness. “That lil’ dude had me scared.”

“How’d you get here anyway?” asked Tyrone.

“I swam dawg.” Tyrone and the others gasping in shock.

“Swam?” said a surprised Patel. “Do you even know how far that is?”

“I don’t know that shit. Fuck distances and shit. I didn’t have any money so I just had to swim.”

“You swam the whole ocean in about three days?” asked Patel, again in shock and disbelief.

“Shit nigga damn!” Tyrone walked back up to BC and hit him again. “Why didn’t you just call me dawg?”

“I don’t know man! I was scared of you beating me up or sumthing if I called you or waited till you got home.” BC lifted his hooves to protect his face.

“Nigga, I’m beat you up anyways for being an idiot!” Tyrone lunged at him and began swinging. Since Tyrone was used to beating up others from his childhood and jail service, he managed to make BC surrender and call ‘Mercy’ in under ten seconds. After the beatdown, Tyrone walked away from the scene. BC laid on the ground unconscious.

“Well that was interesting,” said Cannon looking at the fallen BC. “What are we going to do now?”

“I guess it’s time to pack up and wish this city a farewell,” said Wahlburn sadly. “I’m taking some weed with me though so it’s okay.”

For the next two hours, the group all packed their luggage and made a pile at the doors. While waiting for the others to finish packing, the ones who were done watched BC roll on the ground in pain. After Tyrone came back and saw BC rolling in pain, he called him a bitch and hit him again in the stomach.

“T, why do you have to be so mean to him?” asked Poncho. “All he was trying to do was help you out.”

Tyrone laughed and gave Poncho a pat on the shoulder. “It’s a prison thug thing.”

After Fluffy walked out of the hallway with his luggage, which he was the last one to finish packing, the group picked up their bags and walked outside to the nice country air. As they walked down the steps, Bastiaan hollered at them from atop the stairs.

“Fluffy and friends! Thanks for making my party the best one yet!”

“No problem amigo!” yelled Fluffy. “If you are ever in Canterlot again, come find me for a place to stay in exchange of the service you paid us this week.”

“Canterlot?” asked Bastiaan. “You’re no longer in South Beach?”

“Nah man. I had to move on from there. Take my talents elsewhere.” Fluffy looked up at the sun as a cool breeze hit him and smoothly put sunglasses on.

Bastiaan nodded and extended his hoof. “Until next time?”

Fluffy accepted the hoof shake. “To next time.”

Bastiaan waved last goodbyes as the bus that dropped them off at the cottage for the first time those days ago returned for the trip back to the airport. After all was seated, they waved again as the bus drove farther away from the cottage. When the bus hit the main road, they returned to their normal sitting positions.

“You know, this bus ride reminds me of that bus ride from Seaddle,” said Cannon looking out of the window. “Except Charles’ goons aren’t after us.”

“Yeah except this time we don’t have the dead weight, if you know what I mean....” Patel slowly looked around to see if anyone understood his statement, and stopped and smiled when he saw Clyde look at him. “Don’t be salty.”

“They aren’t ‘dead weight’,” said Clyde. His tone was serious and made Patel laugh.

“Look out, we have a ‘white knight’ guys. Come on dude, why do you defend them so much? I can understand one of them, but all of them?”

“It’s because they aren’t even bad ponies to talk too. Maybe if you got a chance to talk to them, you would realize they aren’t the worst thing in the world.”

“He has a point Patel,” said Poncho, defending Clyde.

“Shut the hell up Poncho,” retorted Patel. “Why the fuck are you even in this conversation?”

“Yeah dude,” said Spike. “Twilight is a major buzzkill. I don’t know why you even want to compliment her.”

“See?” said Patel.

Poncho flailed his arms. “Why can he be in the conversation, but I can’t?”

“Because you’re Poncho and since Jeb isn’t here anymore, you are now the new Jeb.” Poncho frowned and shook his hoof at Patel. Patel laughed and looked away from him.

The bus ride to the airport remained silent. After reaching the airport, checking in, and boarding the plane, did they speak again. Their plane was the same one they had on the way to Amsterdam so Korico was still the pilot. They each kept their default seat from before except Clark and Yarlin took Jeb’s old seat while BC sat in the empty spare seat between Tyrone and Patel.

Before the plane took off, Poncho wandered to the snack cart near the doorway to the main passenger section. After taking some snacks, as they were included in first class, Poncho walked by Cannon on his way to the bathroom.

“Oh hey Poncho,” said Cannon. “That’s reminds me, what happened to Bloem?”

Poncho dropped his bag of snacks and began zipping up his jacket. “Oh man! She is still in Bastiaan’s bathroom!”

Cannon stared at him silently for a moment then busted out laughing. Everytime he stopped to say something, he looked back up at Poncho’s worried face, and began laughing uncontrollably again. Since he couldn’t handle it no longer, he walked away from him back to his seat.

The plane took off at one in the afternoon back to London. When they safely arrived back at London, they saw that the time they took off and landed was the same. The next flight, which would be a straight shot to Canterlot was to take off at two. Instead of eating at the airport, they decided to quickly get on the next plane and chill out at their seat. A few minutes before the plane took off, the plane intercom crackled alive.

“Attention flyers! This is your favorite pilot, Captain Quantico Baxter, speaking. I am once again joined by my favorite co-pilot ever, Mr. Hill!”

“Now Quantico....”

“No, I insist my friend! Anyways folks, welcome to your journey home. Now, as a forewarn, even though this ride is going to take about eight hours, it’ll only be five when we land down. I know that’s pretty hardcore, but bear with us. It happens.”

“Now passengers, you might experience some jet lag, but again, that’s normal.”

“Enough talk and uh, enjoy your flight!” The loudspeaker shut off and the plane began to move. After a few moments of coasting along the runway, the plane ascended into the sky and began it’s long journey home.

The plane ride back was not as exciting to the group as the plane ride to London. Most of them did the same hobby to past time for the flight. Tyrone was happy that the same flight attendant from the first flight was on this one too. He made the occasion sexual advances to her, but she just laughed and ignored him. His homie BC slept the whole time and Junior played Greg the handheld game.

Wahlburn and Spike quickly smoked a small amount of bud before she could see them. They remained quiet for most of the remainder of the flight, until they had to smoke another one.

Cannon resumed his beer drinking on the plane by ordering ten this time. After feeling woozy after the fifth one, he decided to take a small ten minute break until the next one. He continued this trend until there were no more and he couldn’t feel his face.

Rivs, Sticky, and Clyde watched some basketball games from the last season to get caught up with the league since they were gone all week. Normally, the league would be playing at this time, but lucky for them, there was a lockout recently so they couldn’t play any games until it ended. The lockout was issued due to unfair salary negotiations.The problem with the lockout, however, was that no one knew when it was going to end. While those three were quietly studying games, Fluffy and Patel were watching some Fútbol games for enjoyment purposes only.

Clark and Yarlin both occupied themselves with a random task during the flight. Clark was fixing up and cleaning his puppets while Yarlin was looking through a ‘Pirate’s Life’ magazine. After a few hours, Yarlin met up with Clark near the snack cart, where after the meeting, the others didn’t see the rest of the flight home.

Lastly, Poncho ate his bags of chips he brought for the trip, along with the snacks he just picked up from the cart. He still had a dozen of bags since he forgot about them in Amsterdam. After eating half of his bags, he got up to find even more free food at the snack cart. Once he returned to his seat, he popped open another bag and quietly watched the channel about different types of food.

At precisely five in the afternoon, like Quantico and Hill stated, the plane landed in the Canterlot airport. They disembarked the plane and rushed over to reclaim their luggage. After dealing with the security scans and other pointless standing in lines, they finally made it to the parking lot where the three vehicles they took to get here still stood.

Clark and Yarlin decided to stay behind to just have a cab take them to Verona, as there weren’t any room for them. BC was able to take Jeb’s missing spot and Junior held onto Tyrone’s back.

After farewells for only a few hours, the group left the parking lot and traveled the short distance on the highway back to the town of Verona, where they all first met. After reaching Patel’s and Wahlburn’s apartment, they all got out and stood in a circle.

“I guess this is where we go separate ways...again,” said Cannon. “It’s been fun. I needed a trip like that.”

“Same,” said Fluffy. “I think that was a lot more fun than South Beach.”

“I can agree on that one, brother.” Wahlburn took out a small bag of weed and handed Fluffy it. “Here, I have a small bag for everyone.”

“Gracias,” said Fluffy taking the bag.

Wahlburn shot him a death stare.“Keep up that talk and I’ll take yours back.” Wahlburn continued handing out the small bags, but skipped Clyde. “Since I know you don’t want this, I’ll keep yours.”

“That’s fine,” said Clyde.

“Good!” Wahlburn walked back to his luggage bag and saw another small weed bag. “Oh yeah, I had one for Jeb, but he’s not here. I actually was going to ask him if he wanted it then say ‘fuck you’ and take it for myself, but I guess this saves me energy.” He began to laugh.

“Well guys, I think it’s time for us to jet,” said Rivs. “Sticky and I are going to wake up early tomorrow from some shootaround.”

“You coming tomorrow Clyde?” asked Sticky. He didn't know why he asked because he already knew the answer.

“Probably not. I’m going to have to recover from this jet lag first, because I’m tired ‘AF’.” Clyde looked at Cannon who smiled and pointed at him for using his term.

“Alrighty.” Rivs and Sticky waved farewell and departed down the trail towards their apartment.

“Yo BC,” said Tyrone, “do you mind if I stay witchu tonight? Junior and I ain’t got nowhere to go tonight. Plus, I need to lift hardcore since I didn’t all trip.”

“Shit dude, I got you.” BC walked over and picked up Tyrone’s bags, just to help him out. “Shit nigga, how much shit you got in here?”

“It’s my fifty pound weighs dawg.” Tyrone walked over and pushed BC so he would drop the bag. The bag slammed to the ground and made a small crater. Tyrone effortlessly picked up the bag with his teeth and threw it on his back. “BC, you are a weak ass pussy.”

“Shit nigga, don’t hate.”

Tyrone walked up to the others and gave each one a hoof grasp and pat on the back. “It was fun to hang out with you all again. Make sure you tell me when our next meeting is gonna be.”

“Shit man, of course,” said Cannon.

“Aight mayne, cool. Junior! Let’s bounce.” Junior happily trotted beside him, as BC and Tyrone walked down the trail towards the small ghetto of Verona. Verona really didn’t have a ‘bad section’, as it was more of just a ghetto street. As the group watched them fade in the distance, Patel looked down at his doorstep.

“Look at this,” said Patel looking through the newspaper. The main story was of a certain Prince returning to his homeland across the sea. The center of the page had a small picture of said Prince in the middle of a cheering crowd. “‘Prince Apollo returns to Germaney!’ He looks familiar, but I can’t put my hoof on it.”

“That looks a lot like Jeb,” said Wahlburn after studying it closer.

“That’s because that is Jeb,” replied Cannon, who gave a chuckle.

“You knew he was disguised the whole time?” asked Patel.

“It’s a long story, but yeah, I knew.”

“Why didn’t you tell us you fuck!” yelled Wahlburn, “we could have blackmailed him or something!”

“I dunno.” Cannon looked at the sky to see that the sun was about to touch the horizon. “I think it’s that time.”

“Yeah,” said Fluffy. “I had a blast. I’ll be in Canterlot if you want to meet up again.”

“I think it’s time for Poncho to hit the dusty trial...,” said Poncho with his sketchy voice tone.

“Alright brothers,” said Wahlburn. “Take care.”
Cannon, Fluffy, and Poncho waved goodbye and split up at different paths towards different locations, one being Canterlot, one being Poncho’s home, and the other towards the main apartment building where Clyde, Rivs, and Sticky lived.

“You leaving too?” asked Patel to Clyde.

“Yeah, let me get my bags.” Clyde walked over and took out his headphones. He zipped up his bag and put the bag around his back.

“Hey Clyde,” said Spike. “Tell Twilight I’m not dead and I’m staying with Wahlburn and Patel for a bit longer.”

“Me? Why do I have to tell her?”

“Because I know you’re heading to Ponyville right now.”

Clyde smiled and put on his headphones. “Alright fine. See you guys later.” He began to walk away. As he walked he stopped and lifted up his left hoof in the air. After two seconds, he placed it back down and began his walk again.

“So, looks like it’s us again,” said Wahlburn.

“More weed?” asked Spike.

“You fucking know it!” Spike and Wahlburn exchanged a high five and quickly gathered their bags. Spike ran inside while Wahlburn followed him. However, at the door, Wahlburn looked back at Patel who was staring at the newspaper. “You coming?”

Patel looked at him, “Yeah, give me a few to get my bags.” Wahlburn shrugged and closed the door to dash up the stairs to his apartment. Patel dropped the newspaper to the ground and walked over to his bags. He made sure everything was in place and wrapped it around his back. As he was walking towards the main door to the apartment building, he glanced back at the newspaper in the grass. He walked back over to it and looked down at the picture of Jeb, or now Prince Apollo.

“So Jeb, you are in charge of Germaney now?” Patel smiled and stepped on the newspaper. “Not if I have anything to say about it.”

TBC

Author's Note

With that ends Story 3! C&C is always welcomed!

Whether you actually read this story, skimmed to the end, or were the handful of people who actually read all of these so far, make sure you check out Story 4. Not only is it the last main story, but I think it's the best one by far.

Then again, it's your choice. Read if you would like.