Making Friends

by Sir Alexander Wolfgang

Rating: teen
Tags: My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Alternate Universe, Comedy, Human, Main 6, Slice of Life
Length: 6853

Fay leads a drab, uneventful life. But that changes when an old friend of her's turns up at the store she works at.

Finding friends in this slovenly world is such a task, it heralds similarity to the quests of Odysseus. Fay know'sthat all too well. Join her on a quest to make friends.

Published 2014-06-04 12:00:04 UTC
Last updated 2014-06-08 21:15:30 UTC

I

Fay worked late on Fridays. She worked, of course, for a guy trying to find an excuse to fire her. She wished she could think that it sucked, but she had no friends, so what else would she do on a Friday? Plan a vacation to the Crystal Empire? Tend to her pet rabbit? Contemplate suicide?

Her job was to stand around all night, fooling with her pink hair, or looking at Yaoi drawings on her cellphone. Yeah, she’s a gas station clerk.

Occasionally people came inside, but they were usually hours apart. Seldom did two come inside at the same time. So she simply stood there, bored to death. Sometimes she thought about taking every dollar in the register, and running away, and starting a new life.

But she reasoned that karma would strike, and she’d get hit by a bus, or arrested.

So, she just stood there, breathing.

Bing

Fay looked up. Not one, but two people walked in. A brawny looking, white headed, dark complected woman, and a shorter, tan, rainbow haired, wire framed woman. Both wore sunglasses. Both had several piercings. Both looked like lezzies.

Fay watched as they separated. One went into the restroom, while the Brawny one went to browse the drinks at the far end of the store.

There were two people in the store, other than Fay. This was exciting.

Fay heard a toilet flush, as the tall one approached the counter, placing an energy drink on the counter. She scanned it. “2.99, please.” Fay said, her voice gentle as ever.

As the woman reached into her coat, the restroom door swung open, and the other woman sped out, racing for the security camera. She uncapped her can of spray paint, and sprayed thick black paint into the camera’s lense.

Fay’s eyes went wide with fright at the realization. She looked back at the woman across from her to see that she was pulling out a gun. Fay shut her eyes, and put her hands up, holding tears back, before the gun was even pointed at her.

“Hey dork, open your eyes!” The brawny chick said.

Fay opened them, breathing heavy, heart beating like a drum.

“Put all the money in that register in one of those plastic bag, then hand it to me,” the other woman commanded, walking over. Her voice was scratchy, and cocky.

Fay did as she was told, but stole a glance at the woman with rainbow hair. Particularly her jacket. “H-Hey, is your name D-Deandra?”

“What? No, keep putting the money in the bag.”

“N-No, you’re her! You’re Deandra Dash! We were friends in high school, you always made sure nobody picked on me.”

“No, I’m not who you think, I never even went to highschool,” the rainbow headed woman replied, insistantly.

Suddenly Fay became a little brave, no longer loading a bag with money. “Come one, it’s the same coat you wore all through school. A Wonderbolts, bomber jacket!”

“The Wonderbolts are awesome, tons of people probably have these kinds of jackets!”

“No, it’s even got your name sewn to it! Deandra Dash!” Fay pointed to the particular patch on the right breast.

“It’s Rainbow Dash!”

Bing. Everyone looked at the front door, (Now there were four people in the store. Damn, is tonight busy) and saw a tall, purple haired man walk in, and make a beeline for the counter. “Second pump,” he said, placing a twenty bit bill on the counter.

Everyone just stared at him.

“What?” He saw the short woman next to him, “Oh, hey Deandra, how are things?”

Deandra face palmed.

The other woman, the one with white hair, snatched up the twenty, and yelled: “Get the fuck outta here!”

He turned white when he saw the gun, then ran back to his car.

Deandra looked up,defeated. “Just load the fucking bag, Fay.”

Fay complied, with no hesitation. She handed them the bag, and they took off.

Fay stood there, still breathing hard through her teeth. Was this what it felt like to be alive? To be truly alive?

Deandra, and her cohort (named Gilda) sped away in their rusty old jalopy of a car. They were both tense, and quiet until finally: “What the fuck?”

Deandra, who was behind the wheel, looked over to Gilda, who was in the passenger seat. “What?” She said, seemingly dumbfounded.

“You got fuckin’ I.D’ed back there, that’s what!” She looked stern, taking off her glasses, and looking Deandra right in the eye.

“We still got the money.”

“But you got fucking I.D’ed by that dork back there!” Gilda gave a heavy sigh, shaking her head, “This means fuckin’ jail! They get you, they get me!”

“But they ain’t gonna get me, so the ain’t gonna get you. Calm the fuck down.”

“The bitch knows your name! We’re going down,” Gilda put her face in her hands.

Deandra glanced over at Gilda, “Hey, relax. We just lay low for a while. No big.”

“Where exactly are we gonna lay low?” Gilda asked, ever so slightly more calm.

“At Jackie’s, I guess. Over at Sweet Apple Acres.” She said so simply.

“No, I don’t think so. You can, but I-I think I need to get out of town a few days.”

“Oh, really?” Deandra said in a tone riddled with sarcasm. “Don’t be such a pansy ass.”

Gilda glared at Deandra/

Deandra laughed. “Lighten up. I’m sure she didn’t tell the cops too much. Gosh, we were best friends, I doubt she forgot about what we had. A loyal one, that gal.”

“Name’s Deandra Crash, she has spiky, shoulder length, rainbow colored hair, a hoop piercing through her septum, gauged ears, not too big. Her eyes were kinda purplish, and her skin was tan, real tan. Almost like she’s from the Griffon Isles. What else, uhh, she’s short, and she loves the wonderbolts. Oh, and I didn’t get such a good look of her friend, but she was tall, dark, and white headed.”

That’s exactly what Fay said to the police.

One Month Later

It was Friday, but instead of working, Fay lazed about her home. She had absolutely nothing to do. She had been fired by her lousy, fat-ass boss. For what? “No loyalty.”

It rang through her head like a bell in the hands of a four year old afflicted with the worst case of A.D.H.D imaginable.

“No loyalty.”

What the hell did they mean? Fay described Deandra as best she could, she even told them her name, what did boss man expect? For her to take a bullet for him? She almost wet herself at the sight of the gun!

But still, Fay couldn’t help but feel guilty about telling the police about Deandra. Deandra had been the only one to stick up for Fay all through high school. And this is how she repaid her? Ratting her to the police? It felt criminal. It felt like she had outdone Judas.

Like, perhaps she really did have no loyalty. Maybe this was karma. Not getting hit by a bus, or arrested. She didn’t have loyalty for her old friend, and she lost her job because of it.

But what would happen to Deandra if karma even existed? She’d become a criminal, she may even be killer! Fay hadn’t seen her since the party after graduation. She’d been nothing but a vague memory since then.

Fay was about to die of boredom. Without a job she couldn’t really pay the bills, so there was no water, no electricity, no anything. She just kinda sat on the couch, somewhere between asleep, or trying to sleep. She hadn’t bathed in three days. She didn’t wear anything but an old T-Shirt, and dirty sweatpants.

She had a rabbit somewhere. His name was Angel, and he was a little, furry, bastard. But she was his mommy, and he loved her. But ‘piss on you’, was his general opinion of anyone who wasn’t Fay.

The house was like any other house in the neighborhood. Single story, and made for single resident. But unlike every other house in the neighborhood, there was a certain lowlife hood skulking up to the front. One with prismatic hair, and one whom muttered obscenities to herself, almost crazily.

The hood stepped up to the door, and instead of ringing the doorbell, she slammed an arm into the door three times.

Fay jerked awake from a nap that had just begun. She sat up right, as Angel Bunny scurried away, and looked at the front door. She hustled over to it, taking a look through the peep hole. And her heart skipped a beat.

The door creaked open, like a small child was being called into his parents room to be disciplined. The hood was fed up, and shoved the door open. Fay fell on her ass, and looked up at the woman. “D-Deandra, wh-what a-”

“Shut up, you little bitch, I ain’t got time for your shit!” Deandra slammed the door shut, then looked back down at Fay, “I’m out on bail, and before I go down, I figured I need to pay you a fuckin’ visit.”

Fay’s heart raced, sounding like hammers upon metal to her. “I-I’m sorry, I-I just, damn, what was I supposed to do Dee?”

“I dunno, stay Fucking Loyal to your friends, maybe?”

That hit Fay low. She had always considered herself a good friend, but when Deandra slapped that card onto the table she felt almost sick. “We haven’t seen each other in almost five years.”

“Didn’t know time cut ties.” She grabbed Fay by the hair, and pulled her up. Fay did not resist, just gave a slight whimper as she found her footing.

“I knew I’d lose my job if I didn’t tell the truth!”

For the longest time there was nothing but heavy breathing, a tense glare from Deandra, and an impish, and frightful look on Fay’s face. But like everything else it came to an end. “Listen, you little Freak,” That particular insult cut Fay deeper than razors. It was something she was called every single day throughout high school, “you’re gonna fix this. It’s only fuckin’ right after all the times I saved your ass in school.”

Fay nodded. She never thought Deandra could be like this. She never thought Deandra would have such malice for her. She felt like she needed to make things right.

“The judge is a corrupt old fucker. You’re going to make the money to pay him off for me, okay?” Deandra gritted her teeth.

Fay nodded quickly, voice caught in her throat.

“Good.” Deandra put a finger in Fay’s face, “ I’ll be back every day until you’ve got the twenty K.” She turned to leave.

“Wait!” Fay blurted out.

Deandra stopped.

“Uh, I-uh, I d-don’t know where t-to get that m-much money.”

Deandra turned around “Seriously?”

Fay remained silent. Mostly out of fear that Deandra would snap.

“I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.” Deandra rubbed her mouth in thought.

Fay stood there. “I-I think I have an idea.”

“We could rob Diamond Dog Jewelers.”

“Uh, no, I think I have a pretty good idea.”

Deandra looked at her dismissively, “Whatever.” She shrugged, “Shoot.”

“Every Saturday my boss drops off a blue pouch of bits at the bank, in a drive thru. Maybe you could intercept it?”

“Heh. You’re coming along. But I doubt that pouch is gonna have twenty grand.”

“It’s better than nothing.” Fay shrugged.

“Yeah, I guess.” Deandra sighed. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow night, what time do we need to leave?”

Fay looked down at her feet. “A-Actually, I have a question.”

“What?”

“C-could I, maybe spend the night with you? I-I need a shower, and, well, yeah. I figured since we were old friends, maybe, uhm, please?”

Deandra looked her over. She wasn’t lying. Her shirt was stained, and dirty, as were her pants. The pink hair on her head looked greasy, and nappy. Pink nail polish on both her fingers, and toes, were chipped, and needed to be redone. Her pale skin had grey splotches on it, and frankly, she smelled quite bad. Like old cheese that had ran a marathon, then pissed itself, and cried uncontrollably for hours on end. “Yeah. You can stay. Just go get some clothes, and whatever. I’ll be in my car out front.

Fay offered a glint of a smile, before nodding, and running off to her room. Deandra left, and sat in the car.

It’s the night of the heist. Or rather, the mugging. Fay and Deandra were sitting in her old jalopy, at ten o’clock PM, in the bank parking lot, adjacent to the actual building. Between the building and the lot there was a small Drive-Thru station..

“Where is he?” Deandra asked, losing her patience.

“R-right there.”

They looked at the silver car pulled up to the drive through, and before the driver could do anything Deandra pulled a mask over her head, threw the car into drive, and sped in front of the other car, blocking it’s way.

“What the fuck’s your problem, you asshole,” Fay’s ex-boss said, blaring on the horn.

Deandra stepped out, wielding her pistol like excalibur, “Outta the sun-damned car, now!”

The man complied, nervously, “P-please, what do you want?” he said, stumbling out of the car.

Deandra found his change in demeanor laughable. “That blue bag. Toss it over, now!”

With shaky hands the man did as he was asked, and tossed it. Deandra caught it, and handed it to Fay, sliding back into the driver’s seat of her car. She sped off, like a demon on wheels.

The sun rose over the land looking down with beams of gleaming light. Over the rolling hills, and through the tall, tall, trees. To the city where a great many of the denizens bustled about. Gracing everyone with it’s gentle shine. It was like a picture from a story book, so beautiful, so-

“. . . damn motherfuckin’ bright,” Deandra said, pulling the old, musty covers over her head.

Fay got up from her place on the couch, yawning, and stretching. She was wearing what she wore last night, save for the shoes. All black. Black pants, black T-shirt, black everything.

And then she remembered where she was. At a busty old trailer in a busty old part of town.

Sweet Apple Acres. Home to more meth labs, crooks, and rednecks than you could shake a stick at.

Sweet Apple Acres was a trailer park in case you hadn’t guessed. It was here that the young, toned blonde named Jackie Lee McIntosh (Nicknamed Applejack) lived with her (mostly) honest, blue collar family.

It was her, her little sister April, her Grandmother (who raised her) and her brickwall older brother “Big Mac.” Of all the people in the trailer park (and to most people in the kingdom) he was the tallest, simply put.

It was breakfast time, now, and all the people inside Jackie girl’s trailer feasted on bacon, eggs, cereal, and whatever else they could scrounge up.

Deandra and Applejack sat at the folding table across from each other in the kitchen.

“So, Dash,” Applejack swallowed, “How long you plan on, uh, plan on stayin’?”

Dash looked up from her food, and scratched the back of her head, “Well, I dunno. Maybe um. Maybe a month, if that’s okay.”

Applejack sighed. “And that flutter girl?”

“Well, she’s my guest, so that makes her your guest.”

Applejack was not happy. “That’s six people under one roof. Ya’ know, the landlord didn’t even want granny, and April to stay. What’s she gonna say about you?”

.”Well, uh, she don’t have to know about me and Fay.”

Applejack pinched the bridge of her nose. “Whatever.” She sounded as though she were defeated. Because, simply put, she was.

Breakfast was officially over when Big Mac gave a loud, obnoxious, and above all else, satisfying belch, at approximately 12:01 PM.

Sometime after smoking a cigarette Deandra and Fay poured the contents of the blue zipper bag onto the folding table next to the window, while the noise of Saturday cartoons played out in the background. All over the table spilled the neat, clean bits. It was a lovely sight.

They began to count them, reaching the grand total of four thousand bits.

“Fuck,” Deandra said. “That’s no where close to twenty K.”

Fay looked at her, and sheepishly so, she put a hand over Deandra’s. “D-Deandra, I have twenty two thousand in the bank.” She swallowed. “If you want, I could-”

“Why didn’t you tell me that yesterday? We could’ve avoided that whole robbery, Fay. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I love a good robbery, but I need to be staying low, man.”

Fay’s heart sunk. “-Loan it to you. If you’d like.” She said in a voice unlike herself.

“Thanks anyway, though.” Deandra stood up, “I appreciate you doin’ that for me.”

Fay shook her head, then quietly said: “Any time.”

Deandra ruffled April's hair as she stepped outside of the building, lighting up another cancer.

And that was that.

II

Dash, Deandra Dash, stood on the the corner of a shitty street in a rundown, dirty part of town, filled with addicts, hookers, and crooks. She traded packets of pinkish crystals for sweet, sweet bits with whom ever slipped a bill her way. She didn’t see faces, all she saw was the money coming her way.  Every bit made this day a little better, and if things kept going the way they were, today was gonna be a good day.

A regular bouncing, and skipping to her lo. It was Pinkamina Diane Pie. And she bounced on over to Deandra Dash

“How much, Pinkie?” Deandra asked, looking at an unspecific target, through her shades,  across the street.

“Five packs, P-leaaase,” she smiled holding her hands out.

Still looking away, Deandra pulled two packets from her jacket pocket, reached back in and pulled out three more. She handed them to Pinkie, and let her hand wait for cash-flow.

Our jubilant junkie slapped one a one hundred and twenty-five bit bill into Deandra’s hand.

Deandra stuck it in her pants pocket to merge with the growing wad of cash that lie within.

The pink haired gal raced off, eager to get these crystals into her system any way she could.

The rest of Deandra’s day consisted of similar scenarios, until about four ‘O'clock when she called it quits, and headed back to Sweet Apple Acres. She owed Applejack half of todays take. It was an agreement they’d worked out. Deandra slung dope on the streets every day of the month, and at the end of each week Jackie girl took half.

She slammed the door of her car shut, and cranked it. The radio instantly kicked it to a song she ///loved,/// by a band she loved. Hey Ocean!

The old junker pulled out of the alleyway, and into the street. Yeah. Today was a good day.

In front of her trailer you could often find Jackie Lee lying in a lawn chair, under a tree wearing nothing but a bra, her hat, and a ratty pair of jeans. On a small lawn table to her right she had a radio playing old country songs, and cowboy tunes, next to a can of beer. To her  left,and on the ground, lay her shotgun.

She seldom used it, she just liked to have it around. For no reason in particular, other than scaring off angry yokels.

Her trailer was on the outskirts of the small enclave that is Sweet Apple Acres. It was at the base of a large hill, that overlooked the rest of the park.

Deandra rolled up next to the McIntosh's family pickup, and set the car to park. She stepped outside of it, and pulled the wad of cash from her pocket, and instead of actually counting it out, she simply pulled it into two separate wads, and tossed one into Applejack’s lap. She put the other wad back in her pocket.

Applejack uncrumbled the bills, and began to count them. “You been busy, huh?”

Deandra stepped up to the storm door of the trailer, “Sure have,” she stepped inside whistling a merry toon.

Inside Fay sitting on the floor, with April on the couch behind her, braiding Fay’s hair.

Deandra plopped down next to April, and kicked her feet up on the table. “So,” she began, “Any plans for today, Fay?”

“Well, uh, AJ said that there was a party in the center of the park tonight. I was thinking it might be fun to go.”

“I thought you hated crowds.” Deandra scratched a spot behind her ear.

“I thought I’d try something new. I mean, I’ve been getting out of the rut lately, so I figured, you know. What the hay.”

Deandra nodded. She tried to remember a time when she had seen Fay at an actual party. Not some get together Fay dragged her to where she and her geek friends talked about politics and anime, no not that at all.

A full fledged party, a screaming, raging, get drunk and show your tits party.

The only time, the one time, Fay had been to a real party was the graduation party a friend of theirs threw. Fay hated every moment of it.

She doubted Fay even knew what she was getting herself into. Sweet Apple Acres had parties like this one each month. Deandra knew for a fact that there would be mud wrestling, booze, drugs, loud music, and probably fireworks. Fay didn’t like any of those things, to her knowledge.

Oh, well.

“I love you, Whiskey River Boys!” A typical redneck skank yelled at the top of her lungs, flashing her breasts to the band in the middle of their performance.

This fine example of the human race was largely missed, for in this crowd there were many like her.

Fay walked next to Applejack, a shy and reluctant look about her. She was nervous, and downright scared of all this commotion. Everywhere she looked she saw something nasty. Something she’d seen happening in a nightmare of her’s.

There were people smoking Crystal Candy, people drinking hooch like it was water, and people practicing all manner of lude behavior.

It was almost sickening.

Fay saw the orange thong of a three hundred pound woman being pulled off by the teeth of her lover boy.

Scratch that. It was sickening.

“So, I hear you went to school with Deandra. That so?” Said Applejack, above the roar of the crowd.

“Y-yeah, I did.” Fay said as loud as she possibly could, which wasn’t so very loud at all.

“What was that like?”

Fay experienced a flashback to a million wedgies, noogies, and other high school horrors. She then recounted that it’d be two million if not for Deandra. “It was alright,” she said, shyly.

“Ya know, you ain’t exactly the kind’a gal I ever pictured her to run with. Like, ever.”

“Yeah, I, uh, I can see that.”

The two walked through the crowd until they came to a subconscious destination. A pit of mud, squared with four wooden planks. Inside were two amazonians grunting over the loud country music, and flinging mud, and each other all over the place. They slipped, and slid, fighting for dominance over the other.

Surrounding the two mud wrestlers was a crowd of Sweet Apple Acres finest sloven inhabitants. There were people whistling, and taking bets. Others simply watched, and shouted a symphony of ignorance.

But here we had two individuals who were not lacking in I.Q. Fay Skygrace, and Jackie McIntosh.

These two stood watching, Jackie eager to make a bet, Fay eager to leave.

Fay looked about the mass of people who almost seemed to swarm the mud pit. She realized she was a far cry from the average person here, and she felt so out of place because of it.

The average person here wore a stained wifebeater, or a flannel shirt, and jeans. Most were also wearing dirty old work boots aswell.

Fay was wearing a yellow sweater, shorts, and black flip-flops.

She felt like people were staring at her. Talking about her. Judging her.

It felt like high school.

“Damn, Darlene, pick it up,” Jackie yelled, “I got twenty on you!”

Fay was just slightly surprised at the sound coming from Jackie.

With Jackie, there was just something that seemed so different. Like was just an aura that said she was a little bit different than most people at this gathering. She just seemed so trustworthy. Honest, even. Like in a world of shit she'd see you through it.

“Watch it, freak!” Some bitch says, pushing past Fay. The nerve!

“S-sorry.”

“Now, girl, don’t go ‘poligizen to that sack’a shit.” Jackie wrapped an arm around Fay’s shoulders.

“Sorry, I-I’m just so used to it, I guess.”

Applejack smiled, and shook her head. “You sure are a shy thing, aint you?”

“I guess,” Fay rubbed her arm.

The two watched the mad, scrappy battle before them, as the crowd ‘wooed’ at every punch, every kick. “Why are we watching this?” Fay asked, with a general aversion to violence.

Jackie took a sip of her beer, “‘Cos I got money on Darlene. Used ta’ fight in the pit, but I broke my leg. Now I ain’t supposed to do nothin’ too strenuous with it. Ain’t got a knee cap on it no more.”

For the next half hour or so Fay just listened to the raucous of the denizens. She felt like her brain cells were dying from the toxicity of what assaulted her from every on every one of her senses.

“And the winner is,” a short scrawny man with a thick country accent said loud enough for everyone in his proximity to hear, “Barbara the Brute!”

Jackie girl looked on at Barbara slackjawed. “Sun damn it!” She was counting on Darlene to win.

Fay didn’t understand the enthusiasm in this sport. For one you have to get all gross and icky in the mud, for two you might hurt, or get hurt by someone, etcetera, etcetera.

Her gaze wandered the crowd a bit, and she saw a tall man, who seemed bullish in the face, and the bronze body of a god covered in the rags of these folk. There was just something about him that said “Don’t delay, seize the day!”

“Anyone wanna go around an’ ‘round with this behemoth of a gal!” The scrawny redneck man yelled.

The crowd never stopped yelling over the sketchy sound of the band performing.

But one woman did step forward. And what do ya know it was the same lady who shoved past our fearful little protagonist here earlier. The one who called her a freak.

The stocky bitch stripped down to just her undies, and stepped into the mud to face Barbara.

They immediately started a tussle, punching, biting, kicking, what ever, just to get ahead.

Fay winced at a particularly brutal punch thrown by the bitch. And it was that punch that floored Barbara the Brute, slapping down into the mud, all her weight crashing into the brown mushy slop.

“And it looks like we got a winner!” The scrawny little announcer man yelled. “Is anyone tough enough to down this bitch? Anyone at all?”

As a pair of toughs dragged The Brute out from the pit, Fay heard, among the groans of those who bet on the Brute, a faint whisper coming from Jackie Lee. “Why don’t you fight?”

“B-because, I might get h-hurt, or I might hurt someone else, and I-I-”

“Nonsense,” and with that, Jackie shoved the poor girl into the mud, soiling her perfect yellow sweater, and shorts. She lifted her face from the muck, and before her she saw the Bitch. “By the way, Jackie said, “I’m puttin’ ten bucks on you!”

“Well, look who it is,” the Bitch said.

Scrambling to her feet, Fay begged: “P-p-please, miss, I-I don’t wanna fight, m-my friend pushed me in h-”

The bitch pulled Fay to her feet, and grappled her into a rib cracking bear hug, thrashing from side to side, squeezing with all of her might, and then some.

Fay’s face contorted into one of pain, and confusion. She was dropped limp into the mud, falling to her knees.

“Haha, get a load of this freak.” Fay heard that drop from the Bitch’s mouth, in a steamy slew of words, that just lit a fire underneath her. For the first time in her life Fay was becoming utterly pissed off. Not frustrated. Not annoyed. Pissed the fuck off. Then it clicked. Don’t delay, seize the day.

She sprang up, tackling the Bitch into the mud with a screech that sounded like a cat. She punched the Bitch not once, nor twice, but three times with each fist before she realized what she’d done. And then, amid the pained groans of the Bitch she smiled, and dove back in for more, pummeling away.

Blood poured in two thin little streams from the Bitch’s broken nose, mixing with the mud, and the sweat on her body. Fay finally let up once she truly became aware of her surroundings. Once she grasped the fact that people were watching this little outburst.

All around her people stood in silence, holding their beer cans. Even the band stopped playing, just to stare at Fay. To talk about her. To judge her.

“Uhh,” Fay said, looking down at the woman beaten into a bloody pulp. “Yay,”she finally said, putting her hands up, as if she were cheering, a look of absolute perplexion, with vague hint of agony. Her heart beat so fast she was genuinely afraid she’d have a heart attack if it beat any faster.

The crowd cheered in an uproar of drunken stupidity.

Fay had never been so conflicted in all her life. On the one hand these people were cheering, for Fay no less. But on the other hand these people were cheering for Fay. That meant all these people’s attention was focused squarely on Fay.

Fay started to hyperventilate, breathing faster and faster, just staring back into the crowd, eyes scanning across the different hicks, and brain-dead drunks.

Until, of course, Jackie jerked her out of the mud pit, gave her a hug, and said: “Nice goin’, yeh really fucked the bitch up!”

And Fay was, well. Fay was still freaking out.

Deandra snoozed away on the couch, as a drab documentary played on the old, half busted television. In her dreams she was surfing great waves of euphoria, however, in reality, her nose was pressed up against a dirty sock.

April, and her friends Sarah, and Frankie came crashing through the screen door, jerking Deandra from her splendid slumber. She quickly rose, scanning the living room for the source of this wretched commotion.

“Oh, hey Dash!” Frankie said, a look of excitement etched into her face, clutching a red back pack.

“Uh, hey, kid,” Deandra rubbed her eyes, still waking from her nap.

“Done anything cool lately?” Frankie asked.

“Cut it out, Frankie, she don’t wanna be bothered jus’ now,” April cut in with her thick country accent.

“No, it’s alright kiddos, I’m fine to talk,” she stretched, hearing a pop come from her spine.

Sarah tugged on April’s arm, “Come on, go find your sister.” And those two little rapscallions ran along, leaving Frankie alone with her hero. Her idol. Her goddess.

Frankie rushed over and sat awkwardly close to Deandra on the couch. “What’s something you’ve done that's cool, c’mon, tell em, please, please,” she begged.

“Well, have you heard anything on the news recently?”

“Like what,” Frankie smiled, brushing a purple lock of her hair out of her face.

“Like something totally awesome.”

“Well,” Frankie rubbed her chin, “I heard April and Sarah talking about a house fire, over in the Cloud district. They said it was arson.”

“Bingo,” Deandra winked at Frankie.

“Omigosh, you did not! That is so fucking cool,” Frankie laughed a little laugh, and held out a hand for Deandra to high-five. Deandra accepted that offer. “Hey, Dash, can we go for a ride?”

Deandra glanced over at Frankie as she put a cigarette into her mouth, “Sure your parents won’t mind?” She lit the cigarette.

“Heh, my parents won’t give a shit where I am, as long as I’m home when the social worker visits.”

“Oh, right. Sorry.”

The two stood up, walked outside the trailer, and over to Deandra’s car. It was on this meager trip that Frankie asked: “Hey, can I have one of those?”

“One of whats?”

“A cancer.”

“A what?” Dash opened the driver side door. It creaked a rusty, metal, creak as she did so.

“A cigarette, Dash.” Frankie walked over to the passenger side, and got in the car with her backpack.

“You’re twelve,” Deandra sat down behind the wheel,shut the door and started the car.

“So?”

“They’re bad for ya’ kid,” Deandra backed the car up about ten feet, just enough to get out of the driveway.

“You smoke ‘em,” the kid pointed out.”

“Yeah,” Deandra said. “But I’m stupid. Don’t be stupid like me.” She drove off towards town.

The trip to town was about a twenty minute drive. Deandra got there in ten.

Frankie loved every second of cruising with the fast paced Rainbow Dash. It was life on the edge. Edge of what? Who know’s, who cares? Speeding through the intersections, head hanging out of the window, screaming in ecstasy.

It was times like this that reminded the young Frankie just why she was alive. So she could live.

The only thing stopping Deandra from running the red light was that in the corner of her eye there was a police cruiser. So, she eased up on the gas, and rolled the car right to that line that indicates just where to stop.

“So, kid, where’d you wanna go?” Deandra asked.

Frankie put her head back into the car, and sat down. “I dunno, just around. Why?”

“Because,” the light turned green, so Deandra accelerated, “I need to make a quick stop. Somethin’ I forgot to take care of earlier.”

Frankie nodded, looking out the window. “Can we get some fuckin’ ice cream?”

Deandra looked at her young, foul-mouthed companion. “Some ‘fucking’ ice cream, you say.”

“Yeah.”

Deandra shrugged, “I don’t see why not. After I run this errand, though, okay?”

“Okay, thanks, Dash.”

Deandra cruised around the neighborhood at a safe speed, not wanting to draw attention to herself. It wasn’t hard, considering the fact that she was driving a rusty, twenty year old coupe, in a part of town that was, if nothing else, sketchy.

Our young anti-hero meandered over to the other side of town. The side filled to the brim with hookers, and run-down warehouses, and riddled with your occasional chopshop.

She parked her car next to a chain-link fence. On the other side was a warehouse that hadn’t ‘officially’ been used in some ten or so years. “Stay here, kid,” she said to Frankie. Frankie always obeyed Deandra, and now was no different.

Deandra walked around the fence and over to the side door of the ware house. The small, normal one. She walked inside, and up a rusty flight of stairs, trying not to be creeped out by the eerie creaking of worn metal, a jingle of heavy chains.

At the top of the staircase there was light on in a room. She walked through the doorway, and saw the back of just the woman she’d been looking for. A purple haired chemist.

“Knock, knock,” Deandra said.

“Fuck,” the chemist said in surprise, turning around, almost dropping what was in her hands. “Don’t fucking sneak up on me, Dee.”

Deandra smiled, “I didn’t sneak up on you,Terri, you’re just a bit jumpy about the crackdown you said was happening.”

“And? It’s pretty fucking reasonable to be scared when cops could come bashing through the door at any minute.”

“The door was wide open,” Deandra pointed out, not a hint of smugness on her face.

“Oh, shut up. You know what I mean.” Terri turned around, getting back to work.

Deandra snickered, waltzing over to where Terri stood and peeked over the chemist’s shoulder to see a plethora of tubes, beakers, and flasks, all with some colorful liquid in them.

“Do you mind?” Terri said, glaring at Deandra.

“Sorry,” Deandra backed up. “Just wondering when the next batch’ll be done.”

“It’s over there,” she pointed to a table against the wall to their right.

Deandra walked over to the table, as Terri got back to work, mixing chemicals, and what not. Deandra saw, on the table, a white paper bag, containing what she could only guess was a load of candy. Not candy for kids. Grown up candy. Candy that’ll rot your teeth, and rot your brain. Candy that was highly illegal in all of Equestria. Deandra opened said bag, and peeked inside. Her guess was right. Inside was a pound of the colorful drug. She’d spend the week selling it, from about twelve to four each day.

“Thanks,” Deandra said, leaving about a thousand bits where the package was before she took it.

Deandra walked back down the steps, then out of the warehouse, and back to her car, all the way not bothering to hide the package. What’s the point? Cops in this side of town are the real criminals.

Back at the car she spied an individual talking to Frankie. She hustled on over, just to so what gives. She grabbed this person’s shoulder, “Hey, what gives?” She asked, sternly, before she recognized just who it was.

“Oh, howdy there Dashie!”

“Pinkie? What are you doing here?”

“Well, I saw your car, and I just knew you had to be around, but you weren’t, and there was this kid left alone in the car, and I thought that that was pretty weird for someone to leave a kid alone in this part of town, so I came over to talk to the kid, and-”

“Okay, okay.” Deandra tried ending the conversation, walking over to the driver side door. “Take care, Pinkie.”

Pinkie rambled on and on, not talking to anyone in particular as Deandra drove away. Deandra wasn’t afraid that she’d hurt Pinkie’s feelings. She was too high to have feelings.

At the first stop light Deandra handed the white package over to Frankie. “Put this in your backpack, kid.”

“Oh, okay. Why?”

“Because if we get pulled over the cops won’t search you. You’re a kid.”

“Ooooh, what’s in it?” Frankie’s mind raced with the different possibilities. Money, drugs, maybe even a severed head. She tried to look inside the bag, but Deandra stopped her.

“Don’t look inside, just put it in your pack.”

“Oh, alright,” Frankie said, defeatedly, then did as she was asked, putting the bag away in her bag.

And off the two went, on an almost fleeting search for ice cream. After which Deandra headed back to Jackie’s trailer. Frankie lived in the trailer park too, so it wouldn’t be a long walk home for the young preteen girl.

Deandra took the package from Frankie before they parted ways, then stepped inside the trailer, alone. She hid the package somewhere it won’t be found, grabbed a beer, then sat down on the couch, waiting for today’s trailer park jamboree to end.

Jackie was all kinds of excited.

Fay, on the other hand, was distraught. “I can’t believe myself, oh fuck, I’ve never even been in a fight before, sweet mother of Celestia, I don’t know what came over me,” etcetera, etcetera.

“Calm down, now,” Jackie said, “With moves like ‘at you might just have a career in the mud pit.” Jackie thought of all the money to be made.

“Oh, no.” Fay put her head in her hands.

“Lighten up, gal. This ain’t a bad thing. Hell, we could make some real money, me and you.” Jackie put an arm around Fay. “Jus’ think about it.”

Fay put her hands down, and noticed where they were headed. Jackie’s trailer. Fay was so glad. All she wanted was to get out of sight. She was so embarrassed she just wanted to crawl into a hole and die. And, substituting a hole with a trailer, she just might do that.

The two stepped inside, leaving the loud noise, and commotion of the crowd behind them.

And on the couch there sat Deandra Dash.

Jackie stretched, then said something about laying down for a nap.

“What happened to you?” Deandra asked Fay.

Fay looked down at her muddy, messy clothes. She’d lost one flip-flop in the mud pit, and she’d be damned if she was going back after it. “It’s complicated.”

“She beat the piss out some bitch in the mud pit,” Jackie hollered from her bedroom.

Deandra looked off towards Jackie, then slowly moved her glazzies gaze over to Fay. “Really?”

Fay nodded her head, rather sheepishly.

Deandra smiled.