A Clockwork Apple

“So, what will it be this evening?” Asked the server colt nervously. He sported a rather premium bruise on the snout.

I grinned. “Six absinthes around. Extra sugar drops in the colts’ drinks.”

He swallowed, unsettled by my impressive smile. “Will that be all?”

“Aye. And you should probably mach’ something about that bruise on the snout. It doesn’t schau very comfortable.”

“I… I guess I will.”

I sat back, displaying my better parts for the whole bar to see. It had the desired effect, as a group of older stallions a few tables over stood and left, unsettled by my bloodboiling lower body. I didn’t want them around. “What’ll it be then, eh?” I asked. “Tonight we surely must design a more interessant activity to mach’.”

Fallfeather spoke up. “Why don’t we break into somepony’s house or somethin’?”

Harmony snorted. “That’s deplorable! Too simple.”

“Perhaps.” I said, “The most simple ideas from the most simple minds are the best ideas.”

Harmony shrugged.

Fallfeather smiled to herself, thinking she had come up with a bloodboiling idea all on her own.

“Don’t you get thinking you’re so premium.” I said to her. “It’s still a rather basic plan, the only really difficult part of designing it is getting over one’s own dismissal of such a ridiculous idea. Let’s go, mares.” So we trotted off, not forgetting to give our colts a little stroke to the soft-rod as we left. We would have to get some new colts soon, or they’d expect some of the old in-out eventually, and that’s not quite what I find to be bloodboiling, from a colt at least.

So we went down the street, not knowing where to head. So we wandered back through some of the darker ends of the city, looking perhaps for a smaller house, which always had easier nimms than big houses.

We almost bumped into another group of mares, these looked like they wanted a bit of fillying as well. It was Scoots, Shadowbelle, and their three other helpers. By mutual agreement, our groups took to sides, and began a little schlagfest.

I took to Scoots, who I knew was the schnellest and toughest of their group. I chose not to fight with magic, not because I was unskilled in the workings thereof, no, but because I wanted to feel the pain with my own hooves.

We circled around each other, daring the other to make the first move. The others had already began uncourteously, without regard for their leaders beginning their schlagging.

Scoots jumped forward, aiming to plant a trotter directly in my right glazzy. I hopped deftly to the side, and reached around her flank, lightly brushing her better parts. She melted, moaning in pleasure at my bloodboiling skill.

I hopped on top of her, driving my own trotters repeatedly into the back of her skull, shoving her snout into the ground. The life-liquid dribbled out, black in the dark. I kept at her head until I was sure she was sufficiently defeated.

Fallfeather had taken down two others, breaking their body-supports with impunitous schlags from her heavy trotters. She had taken several gashes to the flank, life-liquid dripping out. I was sorely tempted to lick it off myself, but knew that there was more important business to attend to.

Shadowflare had taken down one, covering it in tears and bumps that looked hardly possible to survive. Harmony stood among pieces of what resembled hairy pieces of meat dipped in tomato sauce, with no apparent tool for such defeating.

“Come along then, mares. We have much better things to mach’ tonight.”

After a while of wandering about, we came across a large house near the castle with lights on inside, but only in the lower floor. “Come mares, there can’t be too many ponies in there right now. Let’s fall this house.”

By mutual agreement, we all laufed up the stone walkway to the door. I cast spells of forgetfulness over our faces, so that anypony who saw our face within the next few minutes would quickly forget it. I gently hoofed the door to call the inhabitants within.

“Yep?” The door opened a little way, and a large red stallion poked his glazzy out the door. “Y’all need somethin’?”

“Yes.” I said to him. “Our friend out here collapsed a little ways down the street, and we were wondering if you might allow us to nimm a glass of water or something like it to splash on his snout to get him awake.”

“Eeyup.” He said. He stepped away from the door.

I licked my teeth, and cast a spell to schlag open the door. It flipped away, the chain barely holding it in place. The stallion barely put up any resistance, and a single schlag to the snout from Fallfeather had him down on the ground. Harmony lifted his body with magic, and we charged through the house, yelling triumphantly as we did.

The only other pony was a purple mare with a gray stripe in her hair, sitting at a desk with stacks of papers around her, staring fearfully over her glasses, her glazzies shaking.

I ran for her, and she met me at the half. She tried to cast a spell of some sort, but it was completely useless, as my magical abilities far outweigh any other pony’s. I quickly subdued her, and cast a spell to keep her from laufing away.

I nimmed up and shuffled through the papers she had on her writing desk. It was the manuscript for some kind of book. “What’s this mull then, eh? A Clockwork Apple? Sounds like a load of humanscheisse.” I started to tear at the edges of a pile of the papers.

“No..!” The mare tried to fight against the spell I had holding her down.

I ripped the paper into brownish snowflakes, and rained them all over the room. “Ta da! It’s snowing mull now! What a bloodboiling day!” I hopped and frolicked derisively through the shredded papers. I hopped off of the stallions chest, causing a support in him to crack. He yelped.

“You three take that stallion, and mach’ what you will with him. The mare’s mine.” My three mares carried him into the nearby bedroom, and mach’ed what the wanted to with him.

I remember not much of what I did with that mare, as my memory grows fuzzier when I am enjoying myself. I do remember horning her well between the legs, and getting a bit of blood on myself after a rather poorly-aimed thrust. When I was finished, I schlag’ed her over the head till she slept, then trotted away with my mares, not nimming anything, not because we didn’t see anything worth nimming, but because we didn’t want to.

My mares were covered in spots of blood that didn’t look like they were from their own bodies. I casually licked a spot off of Harmony’s flank, lach’ing a bit when she snarled at me.

“So then.” I inquired. “Same time tomorrow night?”