“Oh, please,” a blue Pegasus named Coin pleaded, “It will be a worthwhile investment.”
His brother, a red Unicorn named Bit, nodded in agreement. For months, the two had been working together to try, the only time they ever had, and get their father to buy vast amounts of land that were, as they described them, ripe for the buying.
“Think about it,” Bit said, “A whole monopoly for our weapons company!”
An elderly, purple, earth pony chuckled, “Look, boys, I know you two well enough to know that you don’t have the right financial savvy as I do. And we could lose a large fortune on this!”
“And besides, not even you two could annoy me into buying this.”
Months later
The train reached its final destination, a barren, desert. The last three passengers, Bullet Colt, and his sons stepped out. The father thanked the conductor. He trotted back to his sons and placed his forelegs over their necks with a smile.
“So, colts,” he coughed, “Where is this valuable land you convinced me to buy? I spent a lot of hard earned bits for this.”
Coin, looked excitedly, “Do not worry, father, this plot of land will be the most impressive…”
“We’re here!” Bit, exclaimed in shock, “This…is the land!”
Bullet scowled as he whipped his head around, catching glimpses of the desert land. It hadn’t been the first screw up his sons had caused, but this was a major one. Not only had they lost him half of his fortune on some worthless plot of rocks, but this time-
*Cough*
He had coughed. It was confirming his suspicions. His health was depleting by the second. The trip took its toll.
*Cough, cough, cough!*
“Are you, cough, telling me,” he shouted in fury, “That YOU DIDN’T EVEN KNOW WHAT THE BLOODY LAND LOOKED LIKE?”
The coughs were becoming more and more violent. The colts eyed each other nervously, but more for their own safety then their father’s.
“You two boys,” he, said through gritted teeth, “Are in for a world of pain.”
As am I, he thought, The sickness will be over soon, I hope…
“Dearly beloved,” the Preacher said solemnly, “We are gathered here today, to witness the union of Bullet Colt, and his death. He had fallen ill from all sicknesses known to ponykind he had got from a trip across Equestria…”
Bit and Coin sniffed melancholy, though; deep down they loved what was happening. The two were showered in pity and attention.
“So, Bit,” Coin smirked, “When I get the plots of land, I’m more than happy to let you work for me…”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Bit stuck his hoof into Coin’s mouth, “What makes you think you’re getting the land?”
Coin rolled his eyes and spat out Bit’s hoof, “Oh, please, brother, we both know I was father’s favorite.”
“Don’t make me laugh,” his brother laughed, “I have just about as much chance of getting that land as you do, my simple minded brother.”
“Oh, really,” Coin grinned, “In that case, care to make a little wager?”
“Do tell,” Bit raised an eyebrow.
“When the will is sent, the one who doesn’t get the land has to work for the other,” Coin nearly drooled at the thought of his brother, catering to his every whim. Bit was thinking the same thoughts as well.
“Oh, it. Is. On.” He replied confidently. Bit spat into his hoof and struck it against Coin’s.
“See you at the reading,” Bit smirked. The two than took their separate ways.
An old mare cleared her throat and looked around the room.
“Alrighty then,” she wheezed, “This here’s the last will and testament of Bullet Colt. Let’s see what you got.”
“‘To my dear servant, and loyal companion, miss Spectra Dash, I leave my entire estate, and whatever is left of my fortune. May you put it to good use.’
‘To another friend, the one who had protected me from wild animals in the Everfree, and tried keep me healthy until I finally succumbed to my ailments, I leave my weapons company, Colt Co, to Feather Tail. Your attitude always did cheer me up for some reason.’”
At this point, a big, buff griffon got up and left, trailing tears as he rushed past the door.
“’And finally, to my two dimwitted sons…’” the old mare read aloud.
Coin and Bit leaned in expectantly. This was the moment they had been waiting for. The final moment of truth.
“I leave…”
Oh, what I wouldn’t do to wipe that smirk off his face, Bit thought as he glared at his brother.
“’Partnership. You two have caused me nothing but strife, and I will repay you with the land that caused my death. Looks like you have to learn to share.’”
The mare opened up an envelope and placed the will inside, “That’s all there is, besides some weird ramblings ‘bout cursing the land, and haunting it for eternity.”
The two brothers stared at each other in contempt. There were no words in the equine dictionary that would describe the sparks flying between the two.
As time went on, the two brothers lead their own lives, and grew up to be very rich. Coin made his own business, Construction Operators INspired, and Bit founded his own, Building Innovators Team. But despite the countless years, tensions never lowered between the two.
One day, Bit was walking through plot #2, or the Dustbowl as he had dubbed it. One of his favorites. He walked on, and on, hoping to clear his head of the anger that resided in him. But his walking was grinded to a halt, as he saw that he had met the border of his land to Coins. Fury bubbled inside him.
Oh, you will rue the day you were born, Coin, Bit thought. If only there was a way the live with that irritating pest. He tried to ignore his brother, and getting along was out of the picture. That left only one option.
“Maybe it’s time to start hiring some ponies,” Bits chuckled to himself, evilly.
It was a calm and tranquil night. The key word being was.
Smash!
“Mater Coin, that’s the fourth time you’ve broken this lamp this week,” a yellow butler scolded, obviously ticked off from being woken up, “Can’t you be a slight bit more-“
“Bit! Did you just say Bit?” Coin fumed. He saw his no good, thieving fink of a brother lurking in HIS land.
“No sir, I said,-“
“Do you know how much land I could have if it weren’t for that son of a mule?” Coin raged, “A LOT!”
“Mules can’t have children-“
“I tried to compromise,” he ranted on, “I tried to make peace with that... villain!”
“Sir, you just called your own father a mule, and the last interaction between you two was the reading of the will-“
“It’s time to take drastic measures!” Coin struck a dramatic pose and trotted out the room.
“Master Coin, its 3 in the morning…” The Butler smacked his face, “Why do I even work here.”
Bit looked at the flyers he had printed out.
Wanted: Mercenaries.
Pay: 400,000 bits per minute.
Goal: Kill my idiot, selfish brother.
Location of Recruitment: Building Innovators Team (BIT) HQ
Desired Classes: Pyros, Demoponies, Engineers, Spies, Snipers, Medics, Heavy Weapons Experts, Soldiers, and Scouts.
He smiled as he posted the papers on the walls of Ponyville, a nearby town. “Soon, oh brother of mine,” he snickered, “That precious land will be mine!”
Bit raised his forelegs and let out an evil laugh. Thunder roared and lightning flashed in the background, emphasizing the effect. Rain then poured out of the sky.
“Ah, bugger.”
“HE DID WHAT?” Coin slammed his hoof against his desk.
“Just what I told you sir,” the Butler answered, “Bit posted up multiple posters, requesting mercenaries to kill you.”
Coin got up and smashed a nearby lamp, causing the Butler to sigh.
“This is unacceptable!” he cried, “What can be done about this?”
The Butler trotted to Coin, “Sir, I know that you and your brother have your differences, but this poster is proof that its gone to far. I think there’s only one thing to do.”
Coin sighed, “Yes, I know.”
“Exactly, you need to make amends-“
“I need to kill my brother!” he slammed his hoof against his desk again, leaving a dent in the wood, “It’s the only way to get all the land.”
The Butler facehoofed, “That’s not what I meant by that at all-“
“To the printer! There are some posters I need!”
20 years later.
Interviews.
Bit waited anxiously for the new demo to arrive to the interview. Soon enough, the door creaked open. A grey zebra in an eye patch and a ski cap staggered in.
“Well!” the zebra shouted in a thick Trottish accent, “Ah heard you wanted a demopony!”
“Yes…” he confirmed hesitantly, “Excuse me, but are you drunk?”
“’Course ah’m drunk!” the zebra bellowed. He pulled a bottle of Poison Joke brew from his satchel, “Can’t make a good bomb without it! Want some?”
“Is that…” Bit said with distaste, “Poison Joke?”
“Ohhhh,” he cooed, “perhaps you’d like some apple juice, or a warm glass of milk! Yah lightweigh’” He laughed and took a long swig.
Bit disgustedly cringed at the zebra’s rude behavior. Shaking his head, he attempted to continue the interview, “Alright, what are your qualifacations, Mr…Kaboom?”
“Aye,” the Zebra nodded, “Demolition is a familah business. Ye can say that ah was born fer this job.”
“I see,” Bit mumbled, “Now, Mr. Kaboom, you seem to be bragging about your abilities, but what, exactly, makes you a good demopony?”
Kaboom’s head twitched. He slammed the bottle onto the table, “What makes me a good demopony? WELL IF AH WERE A BAD DEMOPONY, AH WUDN’T BEH HERE, DISCUSSIN’ IT WIT YAH, know would I?”
“Well, um,” Bit stammered nervously, “I-I”
“Ah blew up a hydra un me first day of school! Nearly lost me eye, as well! Ah was born and raised around explosives! So what do yeh think now? Am ah qualified”
A bead of sweat trickled down Bit’s forehead, “Y-you’re hired.”
“And that’s why ah’d make the best spy in the history of espion-whatsit!” a southern accented earth pony exclaimed.
“Oh, huh,” Bit mumbled, “Now, tell, me mister Braeburn, do you have any real proof you can sneak into a stallion’s office, and convince him that you’re somepony else?”
Braeburn smiled, a malicious glint in his eye. For a second, Bit could have sworn that there was a green flash in his eyes
“Mais, oui, monsieur,” Braeburn chuckled, donning a fancy accent, “I ‘ave manged to fool you for zis long. ‘ow ‘ard can zis job be?”
An explosion of light engulfed the earth pony, forcing Bit to shield his eyes. When the light resided, Braeburn was no more. In his place was a terrifying, black, insect-like… thing. It had bright green eyes and a hard, black shell.
“Je suis un Changeling,” it explained as it started his backstory, “Our species have been starving for centuries, but due to our appearance no one would ever offer us any food. We couldn’t grow food because we feed on emotions. Ze only time we ever feed was when we managed to infiltrate Canterlot. So many emotions! Fear, love, hate. Anyway, we need you, monsieur Bit.”
“M-me?” Bit said, nearly hiding behind his desk, “Why?”
“Because you ‘ave beaucoup de land! Use those little grey cells,” the changeling pulled out a small cigarette, “We need land, you need mercenaries. You have land, we are mercenaries. Perhaps we can arrange an agreement, non?”
Bit smiled. “Ahhh, I understand. Seems fair to me,” he raised out a hoof, “You have yourself a deal, mr… What’s you name?”
The changeling accepted the hoof and shook it, “You may call me Regenerate.”
“And den BONK! I slugged de sucker! Whoo! Check it out! Imma freakin’ blur here!” a goat whizzed around, demonstrating his ‘skill’. He grabbed a baseball bat from his black saddlebag and swung it around.
Bit groaned and banged his head on his desk.
Thump, thump, thump.
“If I give you the job, will you please shut, UP!” he begged, “Please?”
“Aw, yeah!” the Goat pumped his forehoof into the air, “Ma’s gonna be so impressed!”
Knock, knock, knock
“Yes… come in…” Bit said cautiously.
The door opened, and a large minotaur stomped in. The whole room shook with every step he took. He held up a mini-gun and slammed it onto the desk.
“I am Heavy Weapons Minotaur,” the minotaur greeted in a deep, rumbling voice, “And dis, is my weapon. She weighs 150 kilograms and fires 200 bit, custom tooled cartridges at ten thousand rounds per minute.” He leaned closer to Bit’s trembling face, “It costs four hundred, thousand bits to fire this gun, for twelve seconds,”
Wrenches trotted over to the building where his interview was supposedly held. Truthfully, he was more nervous than a cat in a room full of Great-Granny-Smith’s rocking chairs. The unicorn tugged at his collar and trotted inside.
As he opened the door to the office, he heard loud, high-pitched laughter,
“So ven ze patient voke up, his lungs vere gone, and ze docktor vas never heard from again!” a yellow earth pony doubled over in laughter and giggled madly.
The red unicorn, whom Wrenches assumed to be Bit, inched away slowly, eyeing the earth pony, and turned his attention towards Wrenches, “Oh, my goodness, would you look at the time, so sorry, but the interview is over, please leave now.”
The earth pony looked at Bit with a curious gleam in his eye, “So, do I get ze job?”
“Oh, yes, just leave,” Bit started pushing the earth pony out of the door, “Now.”
Bit reverted his gaze to Wrenches, “So, I suppose you want to be the engineer.”
“That’ll be right!” Wrenches answered proudly in his southern twang, “Ah have lots o’ experience.”
“You?” Bit laughed mockingly, “How’s about some apples? Y’all wanna go down to the farm!”
“Hey!” he interjected, “Though mah mom was born on a farm, ah got mah engineerin’ skills from mah dad. He and mah uncle built this machine that could make 6 barrels o’ apple cider in half a minute.”
Bit cringed, “This uncle of yours,” he asked, “His name wasn’t Flam, was it?”
“Yeah,” Wrenches squinted suspiciously, “How’d yah now?”
“It was twenty years ago,” Bit reminisced, “With the original team…”
Flaaaaash baaaaaack
A colt in a red suit ran through a dry, sandy, area. A large stallion in a blue suit walked towards him, firing a minigun. The colt was shot down, and his body disappeared.
In another area, a pony in a jumpsuit held up a knife, and snuck up behind a stallion peering into a sniper rifle. He screamed in pain as the knife broke through his back. The pony dropped down, dead, with a smiling unicorn behind him.
Present time
Bit glared angrily at a painting nailed to the wall, “After a while, they just quit. Said it was too much work for not enough bits.”
“What happened?” Wrenches asked.
“Our main branch of money broke off,” Bit huffed, “Apparently, these institute called DAEL stopped buying our weapons from Colt Co. We finally got another break with the currant Griffon-Zebra Wars.”
“So, anyway, exactly what experience do you have?” he asked, “If you truly have the genetic knowledge of your uncle?”
Wrenches smiled and pulled out a file, and slammed it onto the desk. A few blueprints spilled out.
“Ah managed tah upgrade his designs a bit,” he pointed towards the diagram, “And ah’ve made it so that the turret rotates swifter and the gun expands to speed the firing rate and to increase the possibility to kill any intruders or perpetrators. Ah changed the position of the gears to allow the to mesh easier-“
“Look,” Bit cut in, “I won’t pretend to understand any of your techni-babble, or able to decipher that damn accent of yours. But if you can make the turrets and kill my brother, welcome aboard.”
Bit looked down on the schedule. Now it’s time to interview a… Soldier.
“SCREAMING GRIFFONS!”
There was the sound of an explosion. The boom left a ringing in his ears. All that could be salvaged of the door were black chunks of charcoal.
“Sir, you could have just… knocked,” Bit said exasperatedly.
A griffon in a buzz cut walked in, “Hey, ground walker! Bow down to the superior flight capabilities of the griffon!”
Bit looked at the griffon’s back. There was nothing but two stumps sticking out where the wings should have been.
“You do realize that you have no wings, don’t you?”
“Does it look like I need wings to fly?” he growled, “Who needs wings, when you’ve got rockets?”
“I…um…” he stammered, “What?”
“I’ve lost this wings from countless fights with namby pamby dragons,” the griffon grunted, “And I’ve been rocket jumping ever since.”
“What’s rocket-“
“Why is there a massive hole in yer ceilin’” a yellow Pegasus pointed out.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” Bit replied through clenched teeth.
“Fine. I can respect yer privacy,” he nodded, understandingly, “Anyways, I’ve been training with a snipah rifle fer some time now. It would be nice to be able to use mah abilities on the field.”
“Well, it seems like you have enough experien-“ Bit stopped mid sentence, “Hold on, why do you have experience in sniper rifles?”
“I’ve been in Appleloosa,” the Pegasus sighed, “Gotta tell yah, it ain’t pretty.”
“Understandable,” Bit smiled, “It must be said, you are one of the most sane of all the people I had to interview to-“
“Hold on,” he interrupted, and took out a jar, “I gotta take a piss.”
After a rather… disgusting display, Bit was ready to move on to the next merc.
“A pyro?” he sighed, “Thank Celestia, it’s the last one.”
The door was kicked open with a loud thud. In walked an ash white dragon. Bit noticed something strange about this dragon, and not just because of the strange mask covering its face. Its mask was connected to a long pipe, leading down to a metal pipe and a tank of some sort. It was silent. It stood there, staring through its goggled mask.
“Er… hello there,” Bit greeted, “Are you here for a job for the pyro?”
Huuuuuu, haaaaaah
“Erm…” he gulped nervously, “Alright then…could you… tell me your…”
The chubby foal squealed in delight, “Could you shoot your magic rainbows at me?”
“Hudda hurra!” the Dragon replied. He…she? It? took out its golden tuba and blew as hard as it could. A rainbow shot out of the mouth of the tube, engulfing the foal in sparkles. He giggled wildly.
“Wheeeeee-“
“-AAHHHHHH!” Bit screamed. Flames danced through the office room, devouring papers, melting pens and disintegrating the desk to ash.
“Yay!” the foal cheered out, “I love rainbows! Thank you-“
“-have the job! I have full confidence you can kill my brother! Please just leave!”
“Hudda,” came the muffled reply.
The day of the interviews were over. Bit picked up the dossier and began reading through the profiles.
Soon brother, Bit thought, You’ll regret taking my land.
40 yards away, Coin was doing the same exact thing.
To be continued
