You can never have enough.
By Firebirdbtops
Using Aquillo’s indispensably helpful editing.
"Don't you think you've had enough?" asked the nasally voice.
Iron Will snorted, just as he had the last five times he had been asked the question. "ENOUGH? Iron Will hasn't even begun this fight! I will tell you when I have had enough" He used his massive hands to wipe away the sweat piling upon his brow while he continued glaring at his opponent. All of his assertive behavior had proven useless in this battle with his steel and hard-glass foe. As had begging, pleading and threats. Not even the harshest of words could sway the emotionless opposition.
Iron Will knew that his false bravado was just a facade. Drawing back from the match he was clearly losing, Iron Will took stock of the situation. Scattered around were the deep scars of his fruitless efforts, each one a reminder of a previous hope of victory that had been quickly and mercilessly dashed. Iron Will had only one shot left within him. Making this last one count was vital, but the burly minotaur couldn't muster the hope necessary for his usual posturing. Bringing his shaky hands into position, one clenched hard; one prepared to grab, Iron Will sent a silent prayer to both princesses. Just like the last several times, they didn't respond. Perhaps they were eating lunch.
Focusing on the task ahead once more, Iron Will shook his head to clear the extraneous thoughts from his mind. As the foremost motivational speaker in the field of assertiveness, Iron Will had plenty of practice in lifting up flagging spirits, and if he couldn't even raise his own, he would consider himself a fraudulent failure. Positive thoughts were pursued, brought to the forefront of his weary mind and backed up by his limitless machismo. He was soon feeling like a champion once again.
Quick as lightning, his left fist flashed out towards the metallic menace.
*Tink.*
Iron Will's gripping right followed after the left with unerring precision. Grasping his final chance, he used his wrist’s immense strength to twist...
*Grrr rrr rr. Klunk.*
Iron's left hand, having done its duty, fell. Down it went, to the shining steel flap on the face of the opponent. Iron Will closed his eyes and lifted that flap.
When he dared to look again, in his hand was a small plastic ball, split in half by a seam that ran around the outside. Iron pulled the top of the ball off revealing a tiny figure that was hiding within.
"Iron Will has once again pulled a Common ‘Anonymous’. That is just so disappointing for Iron Will. Also, Iron Will is out of bits for spending on this. Iron Will doesn't want to waste any bits that go towards important things, so Iron Will leaves you with that rare Gemstone ‘Sethisto’ figure you have stored inside. UNTIL WE MEET AGAIN!"
After having roared out his intent to return for future challenges and having taken a few of the most appropriate poses, Iron Will turned towards the shopkeeper pony that had spoken earlier. Thanking him once again for keeping the hard-to-find gachapon machine well stocked and ready for his weekly allowance, Iron Will picked up his basket of discarded collectables.
All in all, this week had been mildly disappointing. He had picked up seven “Anonymous” figures in varying poses, a “Living Tombstone” that he already had about a dozen of back at home, a “Balddumborat”, and the only Uncommon he had managed to get was a leftover Bronze “Wooden Toaster” from the last batch released.
Well, it was no matter. Iron Will knew that he still had a chance. Once he returned home and picked up the couple of bits he had lent one of his goat friends to buy new sneakers, he would have enough saved up in his piggy-bank to purchase that extra rare figure he wanted. Maybe he would even have some bits left over afterward. His friend did say the sneakers were delicious.
Making his way past the highly decorated display shelves that surrounded his room, Iron Will approached his personal treasure chest. Held within were the fruits of reducing his weekly figure expenditures to a tenth of what he would normally spend. Carefully counting out the bits he had saved, Iron funneled them into a carrying pouch. While saving money was nothing new to him, he didn’t usually find something that he wanted enough to deprive himself for so long. He had been doing this ever since he had seen that article in that newspaper. Iron glanced at the clipping from the Foal Free Press on his work desk before picking it up. He had meticulously saved the article from his goats’ version of taking out the trash, which consisted of them using the trash as take-out. Smoothing the slightly rumpled paper out on top of his desk, Iron skimmed through the article once more, having read it enough times before to know where to look for the information he sought. Aha! That was the place... Sweet Apple Acres.
Satchel of bits and a small briefcase held at his waist, Iron Will arrived at the rather well-known farmstead. It had taken several requests for directions, and several more stops for autographs, but he had made good time. Being able to lift most of the cross-traffic over his head helped. Looking towards at the freshly painted barn, Iron hesitated. This would be his first time visiting... The Collector. It would be a strange feeling, meeting another fan like himself. Collecting My Little Brony figures was an uncommon hobby to have nowadays, and when Iron spotted that article about a stallion who preserved keepsakes like these, he knew that he’d need to visit him. The guy even had a vintage Smartie Pants Doll. No one had them now, and market values were through the roof! Iron just needed a look at his collection, and if he spotted anything he liked... well, this Collector wouldn’t be able to refuse a trade like Iron Will could make.
He walked up to the barn, reared back and politely knocked on the door. It was answered by a young mare. Her hat held down her mane as she looked up at him in confusion.
“Uh, can ah help you with somethin’?”
“Hi Miss. I’m Iron Will. My quill is a bit dry at the moment, so if you want yourself an autograph, Iron Will is gonna need to borrow something to write with. Oh, and can you be so kind as to show Iron Will to the stallion in this newspaper article? It says that he works here, and Iron Will wanted to speak with him on a matter of GRAVE IMPORTANCE!” Iron finished his introduction practically shouting, having the strange habit of emphasising ingrained into him from so many performances.
The still confused, and now windswept mare took a glance at the article and her expression soured. “Y’all know that he doesn’t want to sell nuthin, right? My brother Big Macintosh just has a bit of a weird hobby. We’ve gotten deals on that doll ‘bout once a week since mah sister ran that story. Course, the money we’d make iffin he’d sell the darn thing...’cept he won’t hear nuthin ‘bout it. So, you can git home an’ save yourself some breath and time.” With that, she began to turn away in order to leave.
Taken a bit aback by the quick dismissal of his purpose, Iron held a shocked pose for a moment before remembering why he was there in the first place. Acting quickly, he caught the door just before it closed.
“Iron Will is not here for a doll. Iron Will actually read that article, and learned about the collection of My Little Bronies kept here. Iron Will is here to conduct BUSINESS.”
“WELL, OK THEN,” she shouted back, a little deafened by Iron’s exuberance. Shaking her head vigorously to clear her hearing, the mare brought the minotaur into the house nearby. Up a flight of stairs, down a hallway, and past the landing, Iron was led to a bedroom door. The mare, who had remembered her manners on the way up by introducing herself as Applejack, knocked on the door. “Big Macintosh? You in there? We got another guy here, lookin to buy some of yer stuff.”
The door opened and the two entered the room. Iron became aware of shelves. Dozens and dozens of shelves lined the walls. If there was enough space for it, a shelf was there. What caught Iron’s attention, though, was what was on those shelves. My Little Bronies; thousands of them. Enough to make Iron’s collection feel like a single regiment facing Big Macintosh’s legion. Iron tore his gaze away from the Cyborg “PK” and Invisible “Aquillo” to take a better look at the room’s sole occupant. Years of hard work on the farm had left the stallion built entirely of muscles. Taking in his appearance, and still wrapping his horned head around the contents of the room, Iron could only come to a single conclusion: he had no chance of swaying this fan with something as petty as bits. Here was a true fan; a super collector. The opponent this time made Iron wish for the simplicity of the gachapon machine. At least with that heartless hunk of metal, Iron had hope. Faced with this stallion... none remained.
Iron Will almost turned to leave, but something in the eyes of Big Macintosh stopped him. A look, barely a glance, at the case still held within his trembling hand caused Iron to pause. He wanted something. For all that was amassed, some, probably single, figure had evaded the hooves of The Collector. Wordlessly, Iron opened the case, displaying its contents to them both, Applejack forgotten.
Iron watched excitedly as Macintosh’s eyes widened. It was in there. Some mythical figure - harder to grab hold of than a teleporting unicorn, or one of his goat friends after eating one of his neatly pressed ties - existed in that suitcase. A trade could be negotiated, but... What would Iron want in return? Eyes breaking away from the fixated stallion, Iron scanned the walls. Passing his gaze over the assorted Glowing “Tekaramity” and the Silver “DJ Alex S” replicas, Iron’s sight became locked in one direction. There, on the shelf behind Macintosh, was what he was looking for. It was standing right between the Blazing “Arcainum” and the Metallic “Jasonthehuman”. Iron’s palms became clammy as the fur beneath his arms dampened. With a rush of urgency, Iron flung both of his arms forward, fingers reaching out for the shiny model. Casting another glance back at Macintosh, Iron saw his expert eyes linger, and followed the line of sight. In the case, just as a precaution, Iron had placed a miniature that would make an excellent trade. So, at the tacit permission of his host, Iron grabbed the two figures from their resting places. Setting them side by side - almost as if they belonged together - Iron turned to plead with Macintosh.
He needn’t have bothered. One word issued forth from the farmer’s mouth. The answer to the unspoken bargain. One “Knighty” for one “Poultron” was the deal, all that was needed to seal it was...
“Eeyup.”
Iron Will broke into his victory dance. A perfect trade, and he still had his bits untouched. There was only one way to celebrate this. A trip to the gachapon!
First, he had to thank Macintosh. Turning around from one of his favorite poses, he looked for the stallion he had just bonded with. What he found was Applejack, still in the room. She was wearing the same look of confusion that she’d had on the whole time. Lifting her up - and all the while ignoring her yelping protests - he strode across to where Macintosh was now placing his newest acquisition delicately onto a shelf, paused and then asked the question he was certain was at the forefront of everyone’s minds.
“So, do you two want MY AUTOGRAPH now?”
“Eenope.”
Author’s notes: I decided to throw together a story for SALT. I don’t know how much I learned as an author, but it was helpful nonetheless. If you want to improve, you have to practice. So for those of you looking for practice, follow the link. Thanks to all who have helped or inspired me for this, including MLP itself, Aquillo, Arcainum, and RavensDagger.
Also, the editing done by Nagagon, Frederic the Saiyan, and puppo350 was awesome. Read their entries too.
