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                      Naughty Farmer                       
                    -by chaosknight72-                     
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                         Troubles                          
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Troubles
The hallway was dark, not too dark that you couldn't see your hand in front of your face, but still dark enough to make your eyes dilate. Big McIntosh sighed as he sat in the back stage area. His eyes remained fixated on the floor as he sat on the stool. His blonde bangs shielded his face from any passer by from seeing the look of self loathing on his face. He hated what he was about to do. He hated what he had been doing for the past few months. He let out a low groan as he finally picked his head up. His forest green eyes looking towards the stage as he felt heart begin to pound in his chest. Even though he hated this new moonlight gig, even though he felt it degrading, and even though he prayed to Celestia and Luna above that no one he knew would ever catch him doing this degrading line of work, he loved it. It was so outside of his preconceived routines that it was fun. He thought back about how this all started.
A few months ago
A few months back, McIntosh was out working the field. He wiped the sweat from his brow with his glove covered hand. Gazing over the orchid, he let a smile form on his face. He was proud of the work he had done. The fields were a lush green filled to the brim with juicy ripe apples just waiting to be bucked out of them. As he moved towards his next tree, he let released the rope of the cart he had been hauling along with him. His muscles relaxed as he gave them a much needed moment of reprieve from pulling apples all day. After securing the cart and grabbing a few empty crates from the cart, the young man set them in several places around the tree. The tree itself was old, clear dents and forced groves were plastered all over its barked surface. Spotting a particular groove, he smiled. His knees bent as he assumed a type of fighting stance. Truth be told, the Apple family had spent decades crafting a very interesting way of harvesting apples. In one fluid flowing motion, McIntosh pivoted his hips and preformed a snap kick into the groove. The force of impact sent shock waves through his well sculpted legs. shook the great tree to its foundation and caused a rain of apples to fill the crates. He kicked again with just as much power as the last, getting the same result as before. Satisfied with his handy work, and a great deal of trees now removed from the tree, the farmer hoisted two full crates of apples onto his shoulders and proceeded back to his cart.
Loading his cargo, and gathering up the rope up for his cart in his hands, he set back to the barn. A nice breeze blew through the trees as he approached the house. The barn stood tall and proud as it always had, it's red planks freshly painted, doors refit or replaced entirely, and the shingles replaced after the last big storm. All done at his own speed and patience. Though one thing did strike him as odd as he approached. There was a unfamiliar car sitting next to the house, and the faint sound of his younger sister screaming at the top of her lungs. As he neared, the screaming began to quell to a stop. Putting the cart away in the barn, McIntosh headed to the house to see what had gotten his sister so wound his sister uptight. A rather slim man exited their home; a slick looking man in a suit and tie holding a briefcase looked at the farmer and smirked before heading over to the car. McIntosh looked back at the man and then to the door. Upon entering he noticed the sun-kissed woman sitting at the table. Her usual stetson was sitting in front of her, blonde locks covered her face as she rested her forehead on her hands with fingers laced. McIntosh let the door go slowly, but it was still enough to rouse his sister's attention. Her head snapped up, bright green gems gazed at the well toned man, and then dropped back down to their original position.
“Hey big brother,” she called out. Her voice sounded strained from prolong screams of anger and frustration. Her body heaved up as she took a long drawn breath and then slowly released it. He watched as she pushed herself from her seat and stood up. She wore a orange flannel shirt, which she usually tied the ends together to shorten the hand-me-down fabric. A pair of very worn out blue jeans that had been cut at the thigh to re-purpose them as shorts. Under the flannel was a white tank top, which must have just been put on since it was still crisp and bleach white. The sound of her boots echoed through the silent room as she approached her brother. “How went the harvestin'?” she asked. He looked down at her face, doing a quick read of her emotions to see what words to use. Her nose was lightly scrunched up. Her eyebrows knitted close, eyes oddly aggressive as she shifted them lightly towards a random direction. Something was wrong. Big time.
“A.J, what ain't cha' tellin' me?” he asked in his usual monotone baritone. The girl flinched at the question. She looked into his eyes. Those strong eyes that could always pull the truth from her no matter how bad it was. She shut her eyes tightly and turned away from his so her eyes could not plead for his help. Damn that girl's pride sometimes.
“It ain't nothin' ah can't handle Mac,” she said. There was a slight quiver in her voice. That was always a sure sign she was not telling him something. To which, the elder of the two walked up to the table, and took the stetson from it. Placing it on A. J’s head, he said the one phrase that would always make her confess.
“Swear on Pa's hat, you ain't keepin' nothin' from me,” he said gently. The girl's body visibly flinched and recoiled. Two things would happen; the first and most likely, she would cave and tell him what was wrong. The second; only held for matters involving finances, the farm, the family, or all of the above. She would rip the hat off and shout that there was nothing wrong. To his shock, the latter happened. Whipping on her brother, A.J glared at him and reached for the hat. With just enough time, he lifted it from her head before her fingers could touch the rim. One look into her eyes said all that he needed to know. Tears ran down her freckled cheeks as she glared at her brother with such an intense feeling of anger.
“Ain't nothin' ah can't handle,” she said coldly. Her words felt laced with venom as she stormed out of the room. Left alone, McIntosh let out a light sigh. He dusted the old stetson off gently before placing it on the table from wince it came. Looking over the table, he saw a letter. The seal ripped open, and it's contents spilled from it like an gaping wound. Taking the slips of paper into his hand, he examined them. Final notices, and quite a few of them. The farm had to be refinanced because of much needed repairs. The bank offered to help out with a few loans here and there. Usually they were always prompt and on time with their payments. But in the past few months, what with A.J becoming a hero of the land and wielding the Element of Honesty, multiple events being held in the barn, and the constant repairs that needed to be done, their revenue had to be redirected to other places. In Mac's opinion, it would have been less cost effective to just build a new barn. Looking at the table again, he found the ledger of all the Apple Family transactions. Apple sales were down, or at least on paper they were. Sitting down, McIntosh began thumbing through their profits and losses, seeing what had changed. It was fairly recent, just a few months back. A large buyer of apples, Barnyard Bargains, was paying a much lesser amount for Zap Apple Jam and other apple goods. True, the original agreement was fair to both parties, but not since Mr. Rich got a new business partner with his cousin D. Money(Dirty Money), had their cut of profits drop. With a groan McIntosh let out a held breath.
“No wonder she's so mad,” he said low. Wasn't much that he could do about this one. This was a legal matter now, based on a very old contract that was created two generations ago. The family could sue, present the ledger and documentation as evidence and try and get compensation for their losses. However, knowing the lawyers of the family were all very adept at pulling legal bull remained wedged in the farmer's mind. He placed a hand on his forehead and rested his elbow on the table. The hardened wooden surface didn't even budge at the pressure of his new found burden. “What am ah gonna do?” he asked himself lightly. His mind couldn't really process this at the moment. He was getting screwed by one of the family's oldest business partners. Wasn't right in the slightest. Sadly though, his schedule would not dictate too much time for worrying about this. Apples need to get to the market and be sold. And with A.J clearly in no real mood to do any type of apple bartering, the responsibility fell onto him.
Ascending the stairs, McIntosh walked into his room. It was always a convenience having his room to the left of the stair well. He pushed the door open and looked over his room. It was mildly plain. A bed sat at the furthest wall next to a large open window that let in the breeze. Curtains open to let in the beautiful sun and moon light depending on the time. His dresser sat opposite his bed. On top of the smooth surface of his dresser, were several picture frames, each holding precious memories. He closet was next to the dresser, which made it very easy to grab the essentials at the beginning of his day. He approached the closet and opened it slowly. He was greeted with several shirts that he kept hung up just in case he had to sell apples. Figures today would be a day he'd have to. His eyes scanned his shirts until they reached a desirable one. It was a green and white short sleeve flannel with a pocket on the left breast. His hands snatched the shirt out and then closed the door behind him. Tossing the shirt to the bed, he opened the top dresser drawer and glanced around inside it for a few seconds. He found a nice, fresh, white undershirt he could wear under it. With another toss, it too was now on the bed. Replacing the open drawer with one from the bottom of the dresser, he acquired a new pair of navy blue boot cut jeans. With fresh clothing chosen, he set about undressing.
First was his work shirt, which was a solid red short sleeve button up shirt made of a very sturdy fabric to keep from ripping. With practiced hands, he unfastened each button with a quick succession of movements. His hands gripped the front of his shirt and peeled it off of his chest and let it slack off his arms. His body was muscular to say the least. Muscles bulged under his lightly tanned skin. Along his stomach, a set of well worked abdominal muscles that could even make a Greek gladiator envious. As the shirt slipped off of his arms, he glanced at himself in the mirror. He was clearly a product of his life style. A very well oiled machine purposed for hard work. Next to go were his faded blue work jeans. Those let out a rather audible thud as they were loosed from his belt's grip. His legs were just as honed as the rest of him, able to fell an apple tree in a single kick. With the old off, it was time to put the new on. He took the undershirt first, pushing his head up through the bottom of it through the neck and then wrestled his arms through the arm holes where sleeves should be. Next came the jeans. Taking them from the bed, he stepped into them and pulled them up his legs. They were a bit form fitting, but other than that, they severed their purpose well enough. Last and most important was the new shirt. In a rather lazy motion, he threw his arms through the sleeves and pulled the front up so it clung to his back snugly. For now, he decided to just leave the front open until he got to the market. Fully dressed, and ready to make some apple sales, McIntosh was ready to go.
~
Ponyville. There was always something going on in this quiet little town. Ether some form of celebration from the party planner in Pinkie Pie, or some kind of disaster that needed to be stopped by the Bearers of Harmony, or just some other random happenstance that required everyone to run screaming in fear or panic. McIntosh quietly strolled into town, which was always rare for him. He loved his home town dearly, but he would take the peace and quiet of the farm any day of the week. He found himself looking about the town, just to make sure everything was still where it was suppose to be. The local sweets shop, Sugarcube Corner, was still just as busy with people coming in and out with big grins on their faces, and some coming out laughing with streamers and confetti in their hair. McIntosh chuckled lightly seeing people in such a festive mood. His ears twitched lightly as the sound of wheels snuck up on him. A very familiar scooter shot past him. Scootaloo, one of Applebloom's friends, rode past him while doing an assortment of tricks on her scooter. He pondered what kind of trouble this girl was gonna get into today. Shaking his head lightly, he slowly let the atmosphere of the town wash away his troubles with the bank and his business partner. He found his way to the marketplace and set up shop with the cart of goods he had been lugging with him since he left the farm.
The family stall was recently repaired, with most of it being done by little Applebloom. It was simple, yet got across what they sold. Apples and apple based products. Once around back, he started unloading his goods and setting up the pies and fritters first. Placing them gently on the shelves and counter top. Next he lugged over a few buckets of apples and set them down, setting the sale sign which read “1 pound = 5 bits”. With that done, he flipped the sign under the stall from closed to open, and began his sales day. It didn't take too long for his first sale to come by in the form of the town librarian, Twilight Sparkle. Her attire was as uniform as it had always been. A black sweater vest over top a tucked in white long sleeve button up, a black school uniform skirt, and her usual causal shoes.
“Good afternoon Big Mac,” she called to him as she approached. McIntosh gave her a nice smile and straightened up a bit before addressing her.
“Afternoon Ms. Twilight,” he said back. “What can ah do ya for?” he asked showing her his goods.
“Let's see. I need about 3 pounds of apples, and an apple pie for Spike,” she said. McIntosh had already set to work gathering up the apples. He loaded the small batch into a bag and tested its weight a bit to make sure he was fairly accurate with the amount. Satisfied after adding an apple or two, he placed the bag onto the counter top. Next he reached up and grabbed one of the pies he had just set out. They kept pie boxes in the stall, curtsy of Ms. Pie, and wrapped the bundle up to go.
“Here ya are Ms. Twilight. That'll run ya about 20 bits,” he said with a smile.
“A fair price as usual Mr. Mac,” Twilight said with a light chuckle. She always did enjoy his southern comfort style and manners when he spoke. She reached into her coin purse and handed the man the bits she owed. Taking the bag of apples and pie, she waved him a good bye. Before she walked away though, something did strike her as a bit odd. “Say Big Mac, where's Applejack?” she asked. To this McIntosh only closed his eyes for a moment and then give her his usual smile.
“She wasn't feelin' to up fer sellin' today. So I took up the reigns fer a change,” he said with a light shrug. Twilight studied his expression for a few moments before giving him a nod and a smile.
“Alright, well tell her I hope she feels better,” Twilight said with a kind and caring smile. McIntosh waved back at her as his next sale walked up. Apple sales were good. By the end of his second hour, he had sold out on fritters and pies, and was down to only about 3 pounds of apples. Looking over his product, he'd have to turn the remaining apples to pies and then head back home to get more apples. With a solid nod, he switched the sign to closed once more and gathered up the remaining apples and loaded them into his cart. There was a handful of places he could go to make pies. All of which were owned or lived in by A. J’s friends. Thinking on which places would have the supplies he needed, the only clear option was the Corner. He was friends with the Cake family that runs it. Hell, they've done business in the past when they wanted to make pies. So with a clear destination in mind, McIntosh headed for Sugarcube Corner
~
The bell above the door jingled loudly and annoyingly as McIntosh entered the store. He had already situated his cart in the back of the store, now he just needed permission. A rather lanky man at the counter turned to see the farmer. He smiled and removed his bakers hat for a moment as he ran a hand over his messy orange hair, effectively pushing it out of his face.
“Hey there Big Mac,” the man called out. McIntosh gave him a warm smile as he approached and leaned against the counter top.
“Afternoon Carrot. Ah got a proposition for ya,” McIntosh said as he leaned in. Carrot shook his head lightly and then leaned in as well.
“Alright, shoot. What ya got for me?” Carrot asked.
“Well, ah need to borrow yer oven and some bakin' goods to make up some more fritters and pies. Now ah know y'all got some spare flower n' what nots. So iffin' ah cut ya in on mah sales fer the day, how would that wet yer whistle?” McIntosh said laying down the deal. Carrot took a few moments to consider the proposal.
“Hmmm, that is quite the deal you'd be askin' of me Mac. What's the split?” he asked. He locked eyes with the farmer, searching for anything that could tip him off. With a smile, McIntosh knew a sure fire way to make the deal go his way.
“60-40 in mah favor, and ah'd buy ya a couple rounds at the bar,” McIntosh said. He made a gun using his index finger and thumb and shot it at Carrot after explaining the drinks end of the deal. Carrot, playing along, put his hands over his heart and made a mock death gurgle as he fell to the counter top. The two quickly exchanged laughs as Carrot righted himself back to a standing position.
“You got yourself a deal there Mac, supplies are in the back. And don't mind Pinkie too much,” Carrot said pointing to the kitchen area with his thumb.
“Much appreciated there Carrot,” McIntosh said as he walked on past the counter. The two gave each other a light high five as the farmer headed into the kitchen area. Opening the back door, he walked out to his cart and pulled it in close. Taking about a pound or so of apples, he brought the batch in and closed the door behind him, not seeing the mass of pink hair that was now standing behind the door he had just closed. The ball of pink, was dressed in a light blue shorts that went to about her mid thigh, a pink over shirt that hung off her shoulders, and blue and white stripped socks that were tucked into blue and white converse sneakers. Her hair was a puffed up mess of tangled curls and her baby blue eyes were wide with excitement.
“Hiya Macky!!!” she shouted as she bounced around McIntosh. He gave her a smile and watched as she bounced.
“Afternoon Ms. Pie,” he said as he set the apples down on the kitchen counter. Pinkie frowned for a second before smiling again.
“Macky, I told you. We're friends! You can just call me Pinkie!” she shouted jumping around him. McIntosh simply rolled his eyes and chuckled lightly at her antics.
“Ms. Pie, y'all know mah granny ain't raise no upstart. Ah use mah manners with all womenfolk. No exceptions unless we kin,” he add. Pinkie deflated slightly at the statement, but was instantly brought back to life with his next statement. “An' seein' as we're cousins, Ah think it's time I started callin' ya such Pinkie,” he said with a grin. Pinkie's smile was a mile wide as she wrapped her arms around his neck and squeezed tightly.
“AWWWWWW!” she cooed in delight. She blinked a few times before giving his neck another light squeeze. Letting him go as he mashed cut up the apples, she examined his physique. Lightly touching his biceps, shoulders, back and abs. This investigation required more information on her part. Looking at the oven, she got an idea. “I've gotta put some pies in the oven, you don't mind do you?” she asked. McIntosh looked over to the oven than back to her. With a shake of his head he answered.
“Nope,” he said simply. Pinkie smiled and flicked on the oven. She went to the fridge and took out a couple pies that were ready to be baked. Than she played the waiting game. The two made idle conversation. Mainly McIntosh explaining some of the ends and outs of philosophy that he had read from a book, and his own take on it. These kinds of talks were what he and Pinkie usually did when together. Every so often she would ask a question, and he would explain it in a rather simple way.
“So what your saying is, nice guys finish last on purpose?” she asked tilting her head to the side.
“Eeyup. A nice fella has the same chance of winnin' as the competitive fella. Heck, nice fella may even be better than the other fella, but the nice fella can tell it means more to the other to win. So he pulls back for the happiness of another,” he said. Pinkie looked like her mind had just been blown clean out of her head.
“Woah....I never thought about it like that?” she said aloud. She took the back of her hand and wiped some of the sweat that had been forming there for a while now. She smiled as her plan was now taking shape. She looked over to McIntosh, who sure enough, was also feeling the effects of the oven.
“Ya'll mind iffin' ah take this off?” he asked looking up at Pinkie. He had the collar of his shirt in his hand and tugged at it to show he meant the whole shirt.
“Go right ahead,” she said with a grin. She watched with captured attention as he undid each button to the bottom of the shirt. Taking the fronts into his hands, he pulled the garment off in his usual practiced motion, now revealing his still but barely covered chest, arms, and neck. With a light toss, he flung the shirt onto the back of a chair. At this point, Pinkie's eyes were roaming his body. Drinking in how his undershirt clung tightly to his chest and abs, how his arms flexed and moved as he made delicious pies and fritters. He caught her staring once. She recoiled not too noticeably and tried to play it off. Though that didn't stop the little trail of drool that leaked from the corner of her mouth. Wiping the drool from her mouth, she allowed herself a moment to try and gather herself up. She did realize that she had pies to bake. Hopping down from her perch on the counter top, she quickly opened the door and slide her pies into the oven and shut it once they were in.
“Hold on there missy,” McIntosh called out, just as Pinkie was about to close up the oven. He brought over a tray of fritters and pies and did like she had done in putting them into the oven. At this point, the farmer was dotted with beads of sweat . His skin lightly glistening, giving a fine sheen to him. Pinkie really couldn't hold back her blush as she looked at his arms as they moved the tray into the oven. As Pinkie observed him, she noticed the look on his face. It was a look of a man who had the weight of the world on his shoulders. His eyes seemed distant and far seeing, and what he saw troubled him.
“Is everything ok Macky?” Pinkie asked getting his attention. McIntosh turned his head to the side, and was greeted with a look of great concern on Pinkie's face. He let out a soft sigh and started debating if he should tell her. It would no doubt irk A.J to no end seein' as how it was a family matter, but seein' as how Pinkie was family, maybe it was ok. He needed someone to confide in.
“Farm is in danger,” he said standing up straight. Pinkie gasped loudly and covered her mouth. He let out a soft chuckle at her over reaction. “One of our long time partners has been skimmin' off us for a while now. And because of it, we've haven't been makin' payments like we should to the bank,” he explained. He took a light breath and continued. “So we're in a fix, an' A.J is bein' stubburn again and won't ask fer help about it. Ah don' know what to do about it aside from get a part time job or somethin',” he said with a groan. Pinkie listened rather intently. She wore a sorrowful expression, feeling her heart go out to the apple family.
“I'm sorry Macky. I wish I could help,” Pinkie said gently before leaning into the farmer. McIntosh gave her a light hug. As he embraced her, her eyes snapped open and she let out a gasp. “WAIT!! I know someone who could help you out!!” she shouted. McIntosh had to physically back her up, as she shouted into his ear. With her at a good distance, he looked at her.
“What are y'all talkin' about Pinkie?” he asked.
“I know someone in Ponyville who is looking for some guys to work late at night,” she shouted with a big grin. McIntosh raised an eyebrow at the bouncing ball of smiles.
“Ah don' know Pinkie. Ah ain' much good at nothin' aside from apples and apple related stuffs,” he retorted. He suddenly felt self conscious about his limited skill pool. It was all geared towards farm related things, like apple buckin' and repair work. Not much else other than that. He felt Pinkie put her hand on his shoulder and gave him a mile wide grin and a wink.
“Trust me Macky, you'll do just fine at it,” she said with a reassuring nod. McIntosh sighed gently and gave her a defeated smile.
“Alright Pinkie, you win. Where is this place at?” he asked. Pinkie reached into her plentiful curls and pulled forth a pen and paper. She scribbled down a few words and handed it to McIntosh. He examined the address. It wasn't too far from Sugarcube Corner. There was a time listed on the paper as well. Looking up, Pinkie answered the question that was now on his mind.
“That's the time I'll meet you there so you won't feel so out of place when you talk to the lady in charge,” Pinkie said with a smile. McIntosh was starting to have second thoughts about this, but if it could pay enough to help get the bank off the family's back, than it was worth a shot.
~
The rest of the day just seemed to go by in a blur. McIntosh and Pinkie successfully finished their respective baking projects, McIntosh had gone back to selling apples, and the day was nearly done. Packed up, McIntosh took the cart back home. Along the way, he passed by Sugarcube Corner again, this time casting a glance much longer than he normally did. Pinkie's plan was still at the forefront of his mind. Well, if anything there would be no real lose in checking it out. With that thought in mind, he headed for home. He wondered if A.J was in the same mood as when he had left. He sighed gently, not really wanting to deal with a disgruntled and clearly upset younger sister after a long day of buckin' and sellin' apples. His walk was undisturbed, save for the wind blowing through the trees. The light rustling helped set the calm of the orange painted evening sky. Clouds now bore the light orange of the setting sun and deep purple for their shadows. McIntosh was always amazed by the vast colors that the world around had to offer. With a light smile, he approached the farm house. He hitched the cart up and stretched his arms out wide. He let out a rather loud yawn as he scratched his head. It had been a long day, and the night only seemed to be just as long.
“HIYA MAC!!” a young voice called out. Turning around, he saw his kid sister. She was wearing her usual blue overalls, a yellow shirt, and her hair tied back with a large pink bow. Applebloom smiled running up to her brother, jumping at him. With a fluid motion, he scooped the girl up and set her up on his shoulder, where he normally perched her.
“Hey there Bloom,” he said with a light laugh. She smiled down at him and hugged his head tightly.
“Where ya been all day? Ah ain' seen ya since ah went tah school?” she asked.
“Well, A.J wasn't feelin' too hot to do some apple sellin' so ah stepped in,” he said with a light laugh.
“And Ah'm glad ya did,” came another voice. McIntosh and Applebloom turned their heads to see Applejack standing on the porch of the house. She was leaning against the support beam, her hat still missing, but her attitude clearly changed for the better. She had a warm smile and gentle look on her face as she walked over to her siblings. “Mac, Ah wanna apologize about how ah acted earlier,” she said looking away from his general direction. The eldest apple smiled gently and looked to his little sister.
“Hang on fer a sec,” he said to her. Applebloom nodded and clutched onto his head again. With a swoop, he knelt down, and scooped Applejack up into the same seated position as Applebloom on his free shoulder.
“Woah nelly!!” Applejack shouted out. With her weight now on his shoulders, McIntosh effortlessly lifted himself to a standing position.
“Ain' no need to be apologizin' there sugarcube,” he said up to her. With both sisters now secure, he started to walk away from the farm house and to an apple tree. The Applejack smiled gently and let out a long relieved sigh. Now in easy picking distance, the two sister Apples plucked fruit from the tree. One for Bloom, and two for A.J. McIntosh smiled and let the two down, sharing a hug with them tightly. “There ain' nothin we can't do so long as we make the effort tah do it,” he said to Applejack. She simply laughed and handed him the apple she plucked for him. As if making a toast, the three pressed their apples together and said in unison “Apples to the core” before taking large chomps. They smiled all around until they heard a very familiar sound.
“SOUPS ON EVERYBODY!!!” Granny Smith called out from the kitchen. Immediately the three siblings faces lit up with joy and made a almost mad dash for the house. Dinner time.

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                        First Night                        
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First Night
Watching the Apple family prepare for a meal could be likened to watching a well oiled machine begin to work. Each member of the family had a very specific task that they had become quite adapt at preforming. McIntosh was charged with getting the food from the kitchen to the dining room. With oven mitts on, the large farmer reached into the oven and pulled forth a beautifully roasted chicken dinner. The mere sight of it could make anyone begin to drool, or in the case of the local animal caretaker, faint. With the meal firmly in hand, he broke through the barrier between the kitchen and the dinning room where the youngest Apple was completing her task. Applebloom had the table set; plates were placed at the four seats around the table with napkins, utensils, and empty glasses waiting to be filled with a drink of choice. Applejack and Granny Smith, were putting the finishing touches on the remained of the food and drink. Just as McIntosh placed the chicken in the center of the table, Applejack walked up behind him with mashed potatoes and gravy, while Granny was not too far behind with corn and string beans. The food placed neatly on the table, McIntosh picked up the sharpened knife and began to cut into the flesh of the fowl. He divided it based on everyone's preference. For example; Applebloom loved, absolutely looooooooooooooved, chicken wings. So with that in mind, he lobbed off the wings and placed them on her plate. This was done with each member of the family. Applejack got a leg quarter as granny got a breast. Plates were passed around as the meal was divided up and laid out. With a quick word of grace to the goddesses, dinner began.
With mouths full, and moans and groans of satisfaction, McIntosh looked to the women of his life. He felt a small swell of happiness that he was in some way, even if it was just a small way, helping make their lives a little happier. With that in mind, he wiped his mouth and cleared his throat loud enough to break the chorus of moans of famished diners.
“Ah have a bit of an announcement y'all,” he said. This drew the eyes of the rest of the apple family.
“What's goin' on Mac?” Applejack asked. Her expression changed from curiosity to one of slight irritation, as if telling him with her eyes that he was not to talk about what had happened in the afternoon.
“We gotta talk 'bout it A.J,” he said. He looked to Applebloom and Granny Smith. He sucked in a small breath before beginning again. “This afternoon, a feller from the bank swung by while Ah was workin' them trees. A.J received 'em, but we was handed a couple notices from the bank. We're endanger of losin' the farm,” he said. He folded his hands and rested his forehead against them.
“But this is our home, what's gonna happen?” Applebloom asked.
“Ah'm gettin' a second job,” the eldest said. To which Applejack slammed her hands on the table and rose from the table.
“Stow that hogwash!” she shouted glaring at her older brother. “All we gotta do is work harder is all!” she shouted. McIntosh cut his eyes at her, a serious gaze on his face. He looked over to Granny Smith seeing that Applejack was going to be stubborn about it.
“Ah went over the books, an Filthy Rich has stopped payin' full price fer our ciders, jams, an' apples. We can take 'em to the courts, but it ain' gonna help us out righ' now. Ah explained it ta' Pinkie Pie while ah was makin' up some more fritters an' pies ta sell at the market. She said she had a friend that was lookin' fer some part time help. It'll only be fer a couple months or so,” he explained. Granny Smith wiped the corners of her mouth and peered at the Eldest of the siblings.
“Y'all think ya can do it an' still work them fields from time ta time?” she asked. To which he just gave a stoic nod of affirmation
“Eeyup,” he said. Granny Smith smiled at him and simply went back to eating. Applejack looked to Granny Smith with shock and rage.
“Yer kiddin'? If he ain' workin them fields, how 're we gonna keep up with sales!?” she asked loudly.
“Ah'm pullin' eldest rank on this one A.J,” he said standing up from the table. He looked his sister in the eye. “Ah need yer help in pickin' up a bit of the slack while Ah'm workin' them nights,” he said. His eyes pleading for her to understand. Crossing her arms, Applejack turned away and let out a frustrated grunt. She cut her eyes back to him.
“An yer positive this here plan 'll work?” she asked loudly.
“Only way ta find out is ta meet up with Pinkie tonight, said she'd lead me to the place and check it out,” he said. Though she was hating the points he was making, she still had to agree with them.
“Fine, just be sure ta represent the family well,” she said. With that she left the kitchen and disappeared into the other room. McIntosh let out a soft sigh and looked to the clock. It was about an hour before he had to meet up with Pinkie. He attempted to start cleaning, but his hand was soundly slapped with a ladle.
“Now you don' worry none bout them dishes. Bloom an Ah 'll take care of em. You just head on out to that fancy new job of yer's ,” the kind old woman said. McIntosh smiled softly and gave his elder a warm hug.
“Ah'll be back later on,” he said. With that said, and giving his youngest sister a tight squeeze, he departed from the farm house.
~
Late night Ponyville. This was usually an unfamiliar time for McIntosh to be out at, having usually been in his room with one of his favorite books. Looking around, he noticed that the few people who were out were dressed a tad differently. There were some in rather casual attire, but there were some dressed more...risque than others. Tub tops, short skirts, and heels abound as women were heading to their choice of night club. Honestly this was not the farmer's preferred scene. But, considering the offer he was handed, he really could not say much about it. As he walked, he could only piece together that he would be employed by some type of club. With his build, he would most likely be pegged as 'Dumb Muscle'. A body guard of sorts or door man for one of these clubs. Maybe even a bouncer or server.
“Guessin' Ah'll jus' find out ma'self,” he mused with a rather heavy sigh. Looking to the address in his pocket, McIntosh gazed from left to right. His vision hampered by the lack of proper lighting as he searched for any sign or landmark that he could make heads or tails of.
“Big Mac!!!” a voice called out. In his confusion, the voice acted as a beacon, guiding him back to a state of awareness that he had surprisingly lost. To his side, bounding into view, was Pinkie Pie. A soft sigh of relief was released from his mouth as he watched her approach. But that relief gave way once more to a mix of confusion and an odd sense of arousal. Gone was the blue converse, striped socks, and over shirt that she had worn before. The blue jean shorts she had once worn was switched to a mini skirt that hugged her hips like a second skin. On her legs were a skin tone pair of nylon tights that lead to a pair of platform heels that gave her a few more inches. Her top was a tube top that stopped just above her midriff. Once close enough, he could notice the emphasized sway in her hips that the heels had given her. The farmer couldn't really hide the creeping blush that had darted across his face, thanking the almighty goddesses that it was dark out. Once close enough, he cleared his throat and addressed her properly.
“Howdy there Pinkie, Y'all got a date or somethin'?” he asked giving her a once over. She smiled and did a light spin to show off the outfit to him.
“You like it? I got it especially for tonight. Since it's gonna be your first night and all,” she said with a cheery grin. Reaching out, she took his hand and began leading him the proper way to their destination. “My friend is gonna be super excited to have you on board. She's been looking forever to find someone to fill this slot in her line up,” she said looking back to him. Pulling his hand free, McIntosh halted his forward movement.
“Hol' on there Pinkie. What are you gettin' me into?” he asked. That was truly the million dollar question on his mind. Turning around to face him, Pinkie just smiled and looked to her side.
“Your about to find out,” she said. McIntosh turned his head to the side to see a club. It was a fairly new establishment to the area. It was a branch of night clubs that catered more towards women or men of that persuasion. The glowing sign out front read:
“'Stallion's Ranch'?” he said aloud. After saying it, he seemed to feel a strong sense of irony at it's name in conjunction with his daily life style.
“Yeah! It's super duper awesome!” she shouted and jumped. McIntosh maintained his focus on the sign. Looking towards Pinkie as she jumped like that may just give him a heart attack from the organ pumping too much blood to too many places. “Well, don't just stand there ya big goober,” she said grabbing his hand and pulling him with her. “Let's go in,” she said as the doors opened.
The smell that assaulted his nose was that of think perfumes and a musk that he rightly didn't want to know where it came from. Looking about the entry way, he saw two rather large painted on pictures. They were the same generic muscle bound man dressed in chaps and jeans. One hand held firmly on his belt and the other gripping his crotch. The immediate reaction to such a display was one of mild annoyance. Looking around, McIntosh noted the amount of women waiting to enter the main room of the club. Most of them, he had seen randomly through out the town. As his gaze fell on them, their gazes were directed towards him. Some, eying him with slight confusion. Others, more openly, gawking at the farmer. He felt a shiver run down his back as he saw several of the women nip on their lower lips in baited anticipation. These lingering stares caused the farmer to blush and turn his attention back to somewhere else.
“So you brought me something good right Pink?” a woman's voice called out. Pinkie and McIntosh directed their gazes to a woman who was approaching the two. She was dressed sorta like Applejack in a way. She was wearing a pair of cut off Daisy Dukes, showing off her well toned and tanned legs. A long sleeved flannel shirt with it's sleeves rolled up to her biceps, the front left unbuttoned as to show off the skin tight undershirt and her midriff. Her boots were knee high cowgirl boots that looked rather warn in and well weathered. Long crimson hair overlapped one of her eyes as she turned her head towards the two. Having looked her over, McIntosh could assume that she had at least known some form of farm or ranch life before dipping into this line of work. Pinkie smiled wide and approached her friend with the usual amount of bounce that she always had.
“Hey there Bell. I brought you a hunky hunk just like you were looking for,” she said tilting her head towards McIntosh. He cocked an eyebrow at Pinkie's use of “Hunk”. The woman, now known to him as Bell, sauntered up to him and looked him over. Her hazel brown eyes looked him up and down, a smile beginning to form as she apparently liked what she saw. She put a finger to her lips and started to circle him; taking note on how his jeans hugged his legs, how his arms seemed to want to burst forth from his sleeves, and how his torso and shoulders were broad enough to bear any weight. Once she had finished circling him, she turned him around towards the women who had been waiting. She heard a light murmur as they were now, seemingly given permission, to ogle him openly. Watching the women start to giggle and cast sultry gazes toward him, McIntosh started to feel a little more uncomfortable in his own skin. His attention was then drawn to the pair of hands that snaked around his chest and gripped the fronts of his shirt. With a simple tug, the garment split open with ease, buttons flying off in various directions. Their were squeals of delight as the women were now on their feet and approaching him to get a better “look”. Looking back at Bell, McIntosh was blushing ear to ear with a questioning look on his face. All she gave him in response was a smirk and a interested look in her eye.
“You were right Pinkie, you brought me a good one. Ladies, you all can go in. I need to have a nice chat with mister...” she said, letting the mister hang to cue McIntosh to tell her his name.
“Apple,” he said simply. It was the only word that he could rightly form at the moment. The women who had gathered around him met the decision to go in with mixed emotions. On the one hand they could now venture into their own little slice of heaven, but they would be leaving this fine specimen behind them. They decided to venture in, though a few of them decided to let their hands trail across his chest. Feeling the hardened muscle that lay just underneath the thin fabric of his undershirt. With them all gone, save for Pinkie and Bell, Bell motioned for McIntosh to follow after her. “Pinkie, go get yourself your usual seat,” she said leading the large man into the back.
“See ya later Maccy!” Pinkie said as she bounded into the club. He watched her bounce away as he followed after Bell. They snaked their way through several hallways. Of which music was blaring through some of the doors. And if he listened closely, he could hear the sounds of women moaning in delight. McIntosh looked back to that particular door and his blush seemed to persist. He decided to just follow Bell. His eyes unintentionally following her well toned rump through those tight fitting Daisy Dukes.
“In here,” she said pointing to an empty room with a desk. The pair ventured in, Bell sitting behind the desk, and McIntosh pulling up a chair to sit in front of her. “So, I'm gonna go out on a limb here and say you figured out just what kind of establishment this is,” she said folding her hands on the desk. The statement made McIntosh chuckle lightly, if anything to break the flustered look on his face.
“Thought had crossed ma' mind,” he said simply.
“Southern droll, oh you are just a catch aren't you?” she asked with a smile.
“Ah don' rightly know bout that ma'am, but Pinkie said ya had a job you were lookin' ta fill,” he said.
“Straight to the point I see,” she said. She closed her eyes and leaned back in her chair. “Well, obviously, this is a female strip joint and I am short a server. I'd be hiring you on just to go around serving drinks and taking orders. Think you can do that?” she asked.
“Ah can handle that,” he said. He watched as she leaned forward and gave his body another quick look over.
“Though, if you ever wanted to preform on stage, than you'd make better tips as well as your hourly,” she said. Her smile denoted that she really wanted him to take up that offer. His blush returned at the thought of doing, Celestia knows what, on that stage. Clearing his throat, he decided to decline that particular offer.
“Sorry ma'am, Ah ain' much of a dancer or performer. Ah jus' need ta work here till we get our situation all hashed out,” he said. This peeked Bell's interest.
“Yes, it dose seem like you wouldn't be into this kind of work. Judging by your....physique, you work a farm or something. Making me wonder, why come work for me?” she asked leaning in. McIntosh sighed lightly, relenting having to tell yet another about his family's plight.
“We got swindled out of full earnin's from a business partner. We gotta take 'em ta court ta get the money we need ta pay off the bank, or lose the farm. An' we can't exactly wait 'round till all the paperwork goes through,” he said. Bell tapped her cheek with a finger in contemplation.
“I can offer you the starting wage, and tips are yours to keep. You won't have to go on stage if you don't want to. We strive to make sure our studs work as they please and not force them into anything uncomfortable,” she stated. “Your attire will be given to you when you start your shift, and you can start tonight if you want to,” she added. Rising from her desk, she extended her hand. “We can hash out paperwork later, but I'd be more than willing to hire you on part time till everything is settled up for you,” she said with a smile. Standing up, McIntosh gave her a soft smile and reached out for her hand. When it was within range, Bell snatched his hand and yanked. Jerking the farmer close. Her hand snapped to the back of his neck and pulled him into a kiss. His shock was doubled when she forced her tongue into his mouth and explored. She held him like that, making him oblige to her demands and even allowing him to act on a few of his own inklings. To be fair, he hadn't kissed a lot of women. Mostly school yard pecks on the cheek to his sisters and granny. Releasing him from her grasp, Bell backed off, clearly winded from the lip service.
“You taste like apples,” she cooed as she regained her breath. McIntosh was rather speechless at the moment. As he was about to question just what in the hell that was all about, she answered him. “Usually, if it's a gay man, we do a cheek kiss to seal the deal. Straight men here have a lot more work to take care of and need to be a good kisser,” she said running a finger over her lips. “But that's only if you want the big tips. Anyway, welcome aboard Mr. Apple,” she said.
“Ma' name is McIntosh,” he said still panting from the lack of air. She smiled and moved from behind her desk.
“Right, McIntosh then. Let's get you fitted shall we?” she asked. She circled him once more. Her hands reached up to his shoulders and grabbed the cloth of the work shirt. “No need for this,” she said pulling it down his arms. She let out a soft whistle of approval as she saw just how strong his shoulders and arms were. “Built tough and as lean as a jaguar. I swear most men would kill for a body like that. Is it just for show, or can you actually do work?” she asked idly. Her circling stopped in front of him, gripping the collar of his undershirt, she ripped it down the middle, making a very loud rip as she forced the fabric apart. Her eyes widened at the sight of his abs and chest. Her hands lightly touching and feeling the toned flesh and hardened muscle. Her eyes lingered on his body a little longer before her hands reached downward. Her eyes locked on his as her hand touched at his crotch. She saw the look of concern in those wide forest green's of his.
“I have to inspect everything,” she said. “Plus we already kissed on it,” she said with a wink. With that, she grasped at his crotch. To McIntosh's credit, he was trying desperately to not get aroused earlier. He had even managed to drown out as much of the delighted moans and screams as he could. But feeling her hand through his jeans was a completely different thing. Experienced digits graced his now growing length, caressing it with such ease. Her face was none too impressed at what she was holding. “It's not great...not bad ether,” she said rather dully. That said, a look of irritation came over McIntosh's face. Not one to be bad mouthed, he stopped holding himself back. Letting the blood now flow freely, his length expanded rapidly in her hand. The instant it did, Bell's eyes shot down to it as it kept getting larger.
“Oh! oh....” she said softly before looking up at him. He gave her a smirk, a light air of confidence surrounding him now.
“Will that do Ms. Bell?” he asked coolly. She moved her hand to see the bulge of his erection stretch from his crotch down his right thigh. Her fingers ran down it, feeling the heat it gave off and the noticeable throbs. She smiled and grasped at his length once more.
“Very much so,” she said softly as she straightened out. She cleared her throat and readjusted her Dukes. “Well then Mr. Apple, I think you will need size 38 jeans and a pair of chaps. And you'll have a choice of chest accessory,” she said turning towards the door. Following after her through the halls and continued screams of ecstasy, they approached a store room. Flicking the light on, she showed him a room filled with various ranch hand attire that he could choose from. Looking around, a single piece seemed to call out to him. He spied out a horse collar. It was a light brown piece of wood with a a big hole for it to rest on his neck and shoulders.
“That old thing?” she asked. He smiled, placing it over top his head until it was nice and snug on his neck. Looking back to her and smiled.
“Eeyup,” he said. She had to admit, it suited him. Walking away from the store room, they approached the bar of the main room. The two were met with cat calls and whistles as McIntosh walked behind Bell.
“Your gonna have to put a little more strut in your walk. Come on, sell it,” she said turning to look back at him. McIntosh really had no clue as to “sell it” as she so put it. Thinking back to that picture he saw when he entered the building, McIntosh put a hand on the rim of his jeans. His thumb sliding into his jeans as he gripped it. His gaze turned sultry as he looked about the room. With as much confidence as he could, he started to sway his hips as he walked. The heat from the room caused his skin to start producing light amounts of sweat upon his chest. His chest and arms lightly glistening in the lighting of the club. The cat calls doubled as he walked, even Bell had to admit that he had clearly turned his swag on. “You are a natural,” she commented leading him on. They arrived at the bar shortly, where there was a rather large man dishing out drinks. “Hey Snowflake, we got a new server here,” Bell called out. The man turned around. He was built like a train and could probably bench one. His bulging muscles were barely contained within his tight fitting under shirt and white slacks. He looked directly at McIntosh and immediately lit up.
“McIntosh Apple!” He shouted out. McIntosh raised an eyebrow, trying his best to recognize the massive wall of muscle. That's when it clicked.
“Ain' you Bulk Bicep?” he asked. Bulk smirked and reached over and slapped the man on the back a couple times.
“You got that right! This guy,” he started looking towards Bell. “This is the only guy to out bench me at the summer sun festival last year. And I benched 580,” he said with a huge grin. Bell's eyes widened a little and her head snapped towards McIntosh.
“Is he serious?” she asked. McIntosh just shrugged it off.
“Ah was a might bit under the weather that day,” he said. He was trying his to remain modest until Bulk slapped his back again.
“Humble as always,” the massive man said with a grin. “So your doin' this kinda work now huh? Can't say I ever pegged you for this line of work,” he commented. McIntosh just shot him an annoyed look as Bell spoke up.
“Just show him the ropes. He's fresh meat here so don't let these girls pick him apart,” she said with a wink. With a salute, she walked off to go see some of her patrons, checking to see if they had were enjoying themselves. Leaving the two men to their own devices, Bulk pulled McIntosh over by the collar he was wearing.
“So your gonna be working here huh? Alright, let me give you a quick run down of how things work around here,” he said. Seeing that this might take a bit of time, McIntosh decided to sit down in front of his friend and listened. “I'll be frank, some of the women here are just out for a good time with their friends and just wanna have some fun. So what we do is provide the fun. Be yourself, and knowing you that won't be too hard,” he said with a grin. McIntosh just smiled.
“Mighty polite of ya ta say Bulk,” he said. Just as he was about to say something, A woman in a rather tight fitting dress approached the bar.
“Hey Bulky, mind givin' me a double shot of vodka?” she asked. Her speech was only a hint slurred, and the way she approached the bar seemed to indicate that she was unstable. Looking to Bulk then back to the woman, McIntosh decided to do what he was good at. And that was being friendly to folks.
“Howdy ma'am,” he said getting her attention. The woman turned to him, her eyes going from a bit lazy to wide in a manner of seconds. As if she was trying desperately to drink the entirety of the man sitting next to her. She blushed when he gave her a sincere smile. “How 're y'all doin' tonight?” he asked very friendly. This type of conversation seemed to shake her a bit as she hadn't been expecting it. She straightened out in her seat, pushing the wrinkles of her dress down to smooth out the garment.
“I'm doing just fine, thanks for asking,” she said mustering a flustered smile. “Your new around here,” she thought aloud. To which she got a simple nod in reply from him. “What's your name stud?” she asked gradually starting to relax. McIntosh was about to say his full name, which he had become accustom to doing when greeting someone new, but this time he hesitated. Working at this kind of establishment might actually do harm to his family's credibility. An Alias would be useful for this line of work. Thinking rather quickly on the matter, he smiled and leaned on the counter top.
“Ma' name's Red Gala ma'am,” he said with a kind expression. His eyes looked her over quickly before he spoke again. “Would y'all like an escort back to yer friends? Ah couldn' help but notice yer walkin' a might bit uneasy,” he asked. The woman didn't really seem to know how to respond. With the way he spoke, and just how he maintained constant eye contact with her, she just seemed to to be lost in the entirety that was now known to her as Red Gala.
“That would be nice,” she breathed gently. Her blush was still very much consistent the entire time he was speaking. With a rather pleased nod, McIntosh looked over to Bulk, who had just slid the glass of Vodka towards them. Standing up, he offered her his hand to help her up. She took it very firmly before rising to her feet. She stumbled a bit, but found herself encased in his arms as he caught her. She blushed profusely and righted herself quickly. She thanked Bulk for her drink, and with McIntosh's aid, the two of them made their way to her table. They were greeted to 3 other women that McIntosh instantly recognized as venders from the marketplace. They sold flowers together, as well as a produce vender. Leading the intoxicated woman to her seat, the new waiter received a thank you from her. With a smile, he was about to leave until he felt a hand touch the exposed small of his back.
“Hey~ we could use a fresh round of drinks,” the one he knew of as Roseluck called out to him. Turning back around, they gained curious looks, as if they had seen him before but couldn't quite place it.
“And you are?” one of the girls asked, her eyes obviously roaming up and down the stud before her. Containing his blush, McIntosh gave the table a kind smile as he slid one hand into his pocket and leaned on his hip in a casual and relaxed manner.
“Name's Red Gala ma'am. Ah'm new here, and tonight is ma' first night. Hope y'all don' mind ma' bumblin' about an' all til ah can get the hang a things,” he said kindly. His manner of speech caused a roar of giggles between all of the women at the table. “So what can ah do ya for?” he asked lightly.
“Oh, you're on the menu?” one of the women asked. His eyes were drawn to her. A very nice full figured woman with a head of orange hair. Easily recognized as the carrot vender Carrot Top.
“Sorry ma'am, but Ah ain' a tall drink a water,” he laughed lightly.
“Oh we are getting him every time we come here,” she said batting her eyelashes at him. “I'll have a Washington Apple,” she said winking at him.
“And I'll get a White Russian,” the green haired flower sister called out. McIntosh looked to her next, his mind recalling her name was Daisy.
“And can I get an Appletini?” Roseluck asked winking. The consistent apple related drinks was not lost on the farmer. Throwing the ladies a casual smile, he nodded his head.
“Ah got ya ladies. Ah'll get them drinks to ya in a couple shakes,” he said turning back to the bar. Making his way back to the bar was the easy part, but the constant feminine hands touching and stroking at his stomach and butt was a new feeling. His blush, thankfully, went unnoticed with the lighting of the club. He looked to Bulk, he sat down on a stool and grabbed one of the serving trays.
“Ah need a Washington Apple, a White Russian, and a Appletini,” he said looking to the massive man. Bulk just smirked and nodded. Watching him make the drinks was something amazing. Skillfully pouring and spinning bottles into the various Manhattans, and then pouring the combined drinks into their proper glasses.
“There ya go Mac, just be careful with that try,” Bulk warned. Giving his friend a nod, McIntosh took hold of the tray and balanced it on his palm before walking back to the table he was serving. The walk gave way to the same set of feminine hands groping and gripping at his jeans. Once even getting a firm pat on his bottom. He approached the table and set each of the drinks in front of their respective owners.
“There ya are ladies. Ah hope ya enjoy em,” he said with a smile. As he turned to leave, he felt one of the girls grip the hem of his jeans and pull back pretty hard. Turning around, Roseluck planted her lips to his and practically shoved her tongue into his mouth. Her lithe arms wrapped around his neck and over the horse collar as she pulled the still slightly stunned farm hand into the kiss. He floundered in the sudden lip lock, but just as he did with Bell, pressed in and battled her back for dominance. His hands wrapping around her waist and pulled her flush to him. This action earned him a squeak from the girl before it became delighted and hungry moaning. All the women around the two seemed to go nuts at the display. Hooping and whistling as the “new meat” was seen in this aggressive light. Letting up, McIntosh looked into her eyes as she slowly whimpered and made eye contact. Her knees were weak, his face a deep crimson, and her eyes hazed.
“Wow,” she breathed gently. McIntosh was no better off, seeing as how he had now been given his official third kiss. His face a nice blush that just seemed to make him all the more endearing to any who could notice it.
“Anythin' else Ah can do for ya ma'am?” he asked rather softly. Roseluck just blushed more so than she had been.
“No....that's all I needed.” she breathed gently. His hands lightly tracing his pecs as he backed off of her. He smiled gently and touched her cheek gently.
“Thank ya kindly ma'am,” he said with a smile. The hand's of her friends shot into the farmer's pants pockets and retreated just as quickly. Turning around, McIntosh made his way through the building once more, only to be stopped by a pink colored missile hitting him in the gut.
“HEY MACCY!” Pinkie squealed happily as she nuzzled into his chest. She smiled up at him, her eyes twinkling lightly. “Someone's even more hunky than usual,” she said looking him up and down. This just made him blush more. His nerves still frazzled from the lip lock he had just experienced. “So how's your first night going huh? Think you'll stick around to do a little more?” she asked. Her smile was infectious as usual, forcing the man to smile as well.
“Ah'm not too sure this is the place fer me,” he said lightly. “Ah don' think I fit in round her-” he stopped speaking as he instinctively stuck his hands into his pockets. He had felt something that hadn't been there. Pulling it forth, he saw in both hands, several 20 dollar bills, even a 50 or two. Blinking a couple times, he examined the legal tender in his hand and then looked to Pinkie. “Guess ah could try it a might bit longer,” he said with a light shrug