Author's Note

Here we go then

Chapter 1: Three bits, three wishes

Whilst during the day the streets and roads of Ponyville would be bustling with dozens of mares and stallions going about their day. The night; however, was very much a different place. Desolate and empty, with only the street lamps exuding warmth that ordinarily would be radiated by the citizens, one would find it an easy feat to mistake this place for somewhere else within Equestria’s vast borders. However; on this particular night, the streets weren’t lacking ponies as one would expect. Instead, there were two; and both would meet under circumstances simple enough that one would be surprised with their outcome.

The most ordinary of the two was one of the resident apple farmers, one of a quadrio actually, but discernible by his large lumbering red frame and ginger mane - Big Macintosh, brother of both Applebloom and Applejack, grandson of Granny Smith. He was… complex, to say the least. Nary a word spoken to his kin, and more so concerning strangers, little was known about the Apple family’s resident stallion. Although a characteristic assigned to him due to his silent but helpful nature was a friendly giant, and despite his quiet manner, he was very approachable, but often more so by many of the towns bachelorettes. While indisputable he was giant in frame, many assumed he was giant in more intimate places. To specify, his throbbing horsecock. As one could imagine, he became the object of many mare’s lusts.

Unfortunately for the mares Big Mac was not only the color of the apples he towed to the stand every morning, but the color of brick. Many of their subtle advances bounced off of him like a rubber ball, and when the more forward approach was applied, he typically froze or simply ran away. Now, Big Mac found the unfortunate upon him, as his spurning of the mares only spurred them harder to get the stallion into bed with them. They collectively tried different tactics to capture their prize. Some tried gifts, others tried gradual seduction. They had backed off when he became Cheerilee's prize but descended upon him like vultures once more than that after the relationship had fizzled out - Rumor had it they never had gotten into bed with one another, and it only made them try harder. Not only were they after his cock, they were after the bragging rights of taming the giant known as ‘Macintosh’.

On this very night, a mare had thought she had come close. Her tactics worked, but thought what most would see to be under-hooved, dare they say: cruel? The mare had studied Cherilee inside and out, learning her mannerisms, characteristics, and attributes. She was sweet, kind, well spoken, all very easy to act. First she’d befriend him, and then she’d bed him, as the saying goes. It took many days of meticulous planning, a cliche meeting (‘Oops, I accidently bumped into you, let me help you pick up your things’) and she was off. Through manipulation, Big Mac found he could trust her, and like Cheerilee in private, spoke full length conversations with her. She nodded with a fake smile, and after half a month of carousing and laughter, Big Mac was finally lured into her home… however not her bed.

She brought out her heavy artillery: Wine. Nothing could crack the mortar of the brick wall that was Big Mac’s chasteness. First it was one glass, then it was four, and by the late evening, Big Mac was completely plastered. Words slurred, steps swayed, and, hopefully for the mare; legs opened. She found Big Mac chuckling to himself on her couch, hunched over himself sitting like that peculiar mint green mare in village park. She flashed a promiscuous smile, congratulating herself on how successful she had been; although, unknown to her, it was premature.

“Oh Big Mac…” She cooed, placing emphasis on ‘big’.

“Yeah, Miss. Thalia.” He hiccuped, throwing his sights to the onyx colored mare who resided by the living room's doorway. Through his blurry vision, he could hardly discern her from the darkness, causing him to lean forward slightly with squinted eyes.

“Would you mind following me upstairs~” The words left her mouth like velvet, finishing her sentence by turning around, plot aimed directly into the Big Mcintosh occupied living room. Now that Big Macintosh thought about it, he was extremely tired, and as equally drunk.

“No need, Miss… I can sleep on this here couch as easily a bed.” Even with a mind submerged entirely in the dulling mist that was alcohol, Big Mac managed to form a complete, albeit slurred, sentence. Thalia rolled her eyes. If she didn’t try something now she’d lose him.

“Not what I had in mind.” She said with said with every ounce of eroticism she could summon, looking over her shoulder with a pout and her hind legs inching apart, her coal colored tail raising up slowly in time with the spreading of her legs. It took a second to trigger in the drunk stallion’s mind, but when the seam of a tight looking mare cunt flashed in his head, he found himself able to do one thing.

“Nope, nope, nope, nope…” He trailed off, his hooves covering his eyes as his cheeks, already flushed pink from the alcohol, became even brighter contrasting with his red coat. Thalia was fuming, her face warping from black to bright red and her expression turning from a pout into a snarl, both rage, and embarrassment flooded into her mind. She stomped with the anger of a raging bull, her hoof raised to smack the hooves of the prudish stallion.

“What do I have to do to get you to fuck me, huh?” She said through clenched teeth, Big Mac’s brows furrowed into a pained expression. “I imitated every behavior of that teacher bitch, don’t get me started on how annoying it was to giggle at every unfunny utterance out of your big mouth. I complimented you, made you feel good, played nice. Even now, after I filled with enough wine to get a fully grown dragon wasted, all you can say is ‘Nope’! What do I have to do!?”

“I…” Big Mac began, his words slowed by his drowsy mind.

“What!?” Thalia interrupted, her face moved inches away from Big Mac, her eyes bloodshot.

“I... thought you liked me.” Big Mac sounded subdued, and Thalia could see the beginning of tears ebbing in the corners of his eyes.

She scoffed, backing away. “Like you? You’re an idiot. A big, fat, red idiot. No stallion, and I repeat, no stallion has rejected me, Big Macintosh. You’re an oaf; slow speaking, and slow thinking, huh?” She said, her words filled with venom.

“Ah thought-”

“‘I thought, I thought, I thought’, is that all you’re capable of saying?” She interrupted with a snarl. “After tonight I’m going to say you did sleep with me, but what's more, I’m gonna make sure no mare comes within an inch of you again. Does ‘Big Microtosh’ have a nice ring to it? How about I tell everyone you’re a colt cuddler too, just to throw salt on the wound. Word travels fast Big Mac.”

“Why?” He exclaimed, plodding onto his hooves from the couch.

“To make you suffer.” She said with a malicious grin. “To make you second guess every inaction you make from here on out. I will make them hate you. Then mares will tell their one night stands, and stallions tell their work mates, and before you know it you’ll have your sisters staring at you cock-eyed… Now get out of my house.” She spat, leaving the red stallion be. So, Big Macintosh, without another word, left the house of Thalia.

Big Macintosh found himself walking home alone, a heavy sway to his steps, and the telltale sign of tears on his flushed face. He wanted to leave this night behind him forever, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to. The sound of his hoofsteps echoed throughout the pony-less village like a tolling bell, whenever you were it could be heard. Soon after getting a good distance from Thalia’s home, Big Macintosh found himself in the town center near the ornate stone fountain. He had a sudden urge to go to it and so he did, swaying with heavy steps all the way.

At the fountain he looked over its rim into the clear waters, the bottom shiny with many bits that many hopeful ponies toss in for a wish. Big Macintosh recalled Applebloom pouring nearly a full day's profits into the fountain behind Applejack’s back, which caused many a pony to scowl her away from pulling out the bits with her hat. Needless to say, Apple Bloom went many months without an allowance.

He looked at his reflection; from his baggy eyes to his cracked lips, it only made him feel ashamed of himself. He should have known, but she was right: He wasn’t smart. Big Macintosh could feel his tears begin to form again, but he kept them held in, his only act of spite this night is he wouldn’t cry anymore about her. When his thoughts went to crying, he couldn’t help but think about water, it then occurred to him he was incredibly thirsty; a thirst as if he had consumed several salt licks without so much a glass of water. Without a second thought, he plunged his head into the fountain and drank heartily. Other than the underlying taste of copper and gold, it was the most refreshing thing he had ever drank… that was until a new taste entered his mouth, the taste of… mangoes? Big Macintosh emerged his head from the water and suddenly came eye to eye with another stallion, standing right in the fountain’s waters with a toothy grin on his lime coloured fur.

“How do you do?” The lime stallion asked, his voice lined with a peculiar accent, and his maroon coloured eyes flashed with a genuine warmness. Big Macintosh found himself taken aback.

“Uh…” Sounded from the back of Big Mac’s throat, prompting a small chortle from the lime stallion.

“Stallion of few words I take it. I understand, I understand completely. Some ponies don’t appreciate it, but it adds a layer of complexity. Myself however I find it hard to remain quiet. The silence is pointless. To me anyway.” The stallion spoke like a Gatling gun, sentence after sentence, not stopping for even a second. Even while exiting the fountain, the water rinsing down his fur, his wings shaking off a few droplets, he talked. “As for me, my new friend, I’m doing hunky-dory. While a couple years back I found myself the bastard love child of a particular God of chaos, it surprisingly hasn’t dampened my mood. I do find it weird I’ve only had three birthdays…” He finished by pursing his lips and sitting on the fountain side, his hind hooves submerged in water. Big Mac had a raised brow, comprehending him a word a minute.

“I’m Big Macintosh.” He slurred out, prompting a giggle from the lime stallion.

“Wonderful, wonderful.” He yanked one of Mac’s hooves into both of his own, shaking it vigorously. “You can call me Hurly-Burly, or Bedlam, or Ruckus. I haven’t decided yet.” He finished dropping Big Mac’s hoof and imitating scales as if to weigh each name’s invisible and unknown value.

“Herlamus?” Big Mac couldn’t quite make out the fast speaking stallion all that well, his words slurring his response, although the other couldn’t have been any happier.

“That… that is utter brilliance. I can’t tell if you’re a genius or insane, perhaps the right combination of both, my good sir!” The newly dubbed Herlamus gushed, shuffling to his side as he wrapped a hoof around Big Mac’s head, bringing to his ribs. “I don’t think I’ve heard a more perfect name. It’s smart, dashing, and most of all: original. I think I could kiss you, you mad-stallion!” He stated, and so he did. Big Mac suddenly found himself hoisted up, Herlamus displaying a surprising amount of strength despite being nearly a quarter of the size smaller than Big Mac.

Big Mac’s eyes opened wide in surprise as the other stallion’s lips pressed against his own, and fell into shock when it didn’t end there. He felt his lips pry open as Herlamus’ tongue dug into his own mouth, writhing around like a spasming worm. He’d never kissed a stallion before, nevermind being kissed like this. His thoughts of the matter were... inconclusive. Herlamus parted with a smack of his lips, Big Mac’s smushed face between his hooves.

“Look at all those bits!” Herlamus exclaimed, looking at the pool like a distracted dog, leaving Big Mac still very much confused. “They say that if you toss a bit into the fountain and make a wish, it’ll come true. Fancy giving it a try?” He finished with a very roguish grin, pivoting on his hindquarters and hopping off the fountain side with a light ‘clop’ on the cobblestone.

“I don’t hav-”

“Worry not, worry not,” He began, his wing unfurling to reveal three sparkling bits somehow held at the curled end of his wing “I have three bits. That would be three wishes, wouldn’t it? How delightfully fairytale! Perhaps somepony will write a quaint foal’s book about this one day. Say, do you have good penmanship? Maybe you could wish for it?” He ended with a wry smile.

“I don’t know…” Big Mac initiated in a drawl, his eyes suddenly feeling a lot heavier than they did before. “I’m feelin’ mighty tired.”

“Well, how about I do it for you; you tell me, and I tell the fountain. Teamwork is the pillar of friendship after all!” Before Big Mac could reply an individual plop rang out from the fountain as a bit fell from Herlamus’ wing and straight into the fountain, an innocent smile plastered upon the lime pony’s face. “May as well, since the fountain is rearing and ready to go with wish granting and what not.”

Big Macintosh, in his current state, couldn’t wish or want for anything. Ordinarily when asked this question sober, found himself wanting for absolutely nothing, exempting one time when he had a particular craving for apple ice cream in the middle of a particularly hot summer’s day. Asked this question when drunk; however, he harkened back to the last time he was asked this question by Miss Cherilee. The image of her flashed in his mind, and then it formed into friendship, however, the concept turned black in his head taking on the shape of none other than Thalia. Love… love was something he wanted.

“L-Love!” He exclaimed in a drawl, his head finding the fountain side really comfy all of a sudden, his cheek pressed against the cold marble. He was within reach of sleep’s grasp.

“Love? Very broad, although from a strapping young stallion like yourself I’m certain the fountain can infer what you mean. Although that was only one wish, Big Mac. Wish number two, my red friend?” Despite losing Big Macintosh to sleep, Herlamus remained cheery and jovial, although he did move closer until a mere inch was between Big mac’s mouth and his attentive ear, a second bit falling from his wing.

With love, Mac thought Cherilee, with Cherilee he thought Thalia, and with Thalia he got angry. The threat she was all too ready to carry out rang out in his mind. He could wish for her to disappear, but he wasn’t malevolent. Perhaps make her like him for real, but what she had done was too inexcusable for forgiviness, even if he made the negativity disappear. He could, however… prove her wrong. An idea he arrived entirely at influenced by the wine he could still somewhat taste on his tongue, like a horrible aftertaste of an unpleasant meal. Yet, most decisions should not be acted upon while drunk, as Big Mac would soon come to realize in the not too distant future.

“Big… big dick…” He slurred, his eyelids fluttering closed.

“Oh Big Macintosh, you make this stallion blush. Although I would have guessed you’d live up to your name in all regards, but I suppose bigger is always better! Love and a big throbbing cock are only two of three, do you have it in you for a third, Big Mac?” Herlamus asked, and snores were his reply. “Oh well. I’ll make do I suppose. Oh, this is going to be pretty fucking fun! Quite literally!” he finished with a chortle. However, upon realizing he was speaking to nobody, he dragged a hoof across his lips. He had some work to do…