“Shoot!”
Spitfire cursed under her lips. It’s been an excruciatingly long day, rookies wandering around the playground not taking any orders, friends pranking her to death as a revenge, weather team calling her for non-weather-related stuff just for fun.
All this would have been tolerable if one more item popped up in her shopping cart. And it didn’t.
“Why the buck do I keep losing?” She hissed, talking to nopony other than herself. “Just look at this jerk, soarie69. How can he snatch this pillow from me just 3 seconds before the auction ends? Plothole!”
To say her experience on eBay wasn’t the most pleasant would be an understatement. Spitfire has been active on this weird auction site for more years than she can count. Ever since she was little, Stormy Flare always grab stuff for her on eBay, be it used, new or repair parts. Things were pretty simple back then---look for stuff you like, place a bid and wait till the auction ends. For young little Spitfire, auction always intrigued her.
“ Mom, why aren’t you the highest bidder anymore?”
“Bid once more mom!”
“Top him, top him, TOP HIM!”
Auctions used to be like this. Fun and thrilling. Everpony would stay at home for the night, watching their bids being topped or come on top, headline alternating between ‘outbid’ and ‘highest bidder’. One part Spitfire especially liked was the last few seconds, everypony would place their final bids and pray for the best. She liked the way it used to be. She liked it when everypony would gather together the second day talking about the auctions they lose with the winner dancing, cheering, all the while mocking those losers at Cloudsdale training center. Yup, she’s lost more items than she can count, but at least she walked away knowing they could pay much higher a price than she did. And with all that info published, she admitted being soundly defeated.
But things have changed. Back then something hot would instantly get hundreds of thousands of followers, with a healthy amount of bids everyday. Nopony really bids these days, it seems, at least not until the last few seconds. Of course there’re still the same amount of users there tracking bids, but they don’t really ‘watch’ it. Basically every item is ‘unwanted’ in an old-school eBay perspective--- 0 watchers, 0 bids and the auction only has five hours to go.
That’s it. That’s what Spitfire’s confused about. Seems like nopony’s interested right? Ha, I can grab a deal. Then she placed a bid. Highest bidder column popped up, all the way until the last three seconds, when hundreds of bids suddenly fly out of nowhere, all at the same time.
She shook her head, trying to clear the unpleasant image of thousands of ponies bidding at the last second.
She still refuses to believe it. 2 minutes to go, current price 4 bucks. Anypony back then would drool over the opportunity, only to have the auction ends somewhere between 900 and 1000.
She’s literally fuming. Her brows raised to an abnormal extent, ears huffing steam from inside out. Captain of the Wonderbolts, mighty and ready to defeat any ongoing threat, couldn’t even win an auction.
The sound of keys come echoing across the door. She doesn’t even bother---that dope’s home again, huh. More loud cracking, with keys furiously fiddling around the keyhole. Damn moron couldn’t even open the door right. Still sulking over her loss, Spitfire mentally removed the keys and keyhole, she had much more important matters to take care of. Just as she was about to fall into deep thinking again, the door cracked open with a resounding ‘fwoop’. A large gust of wind came blowing through the opening, rudely ruffling her already somewhat unkempt mane and fur. She hit her hooves against the keyboard, and looked around.
Standing at the door was a light blue stallion wearing a dorky smile, “Look who’s home, honey.” Getting no response from his captain, he flapped his wings some more, making himself even dorkier. “Spits, are you okay?”
Still no response. Figuring that asking wouldn’t work, Soarin closed the door behind him and walked straight to her side. Seeing her eyes still glued to his impeccably cheery face made him feel funny. Angry spits is best spits. Soarin mentally cheered. Might as well figure this out.
Meanwhile, Spitfire just looks at him, shooting daggers out of her eyes. Her already awful day made even worse.
Unexpectedly, upon seeing the screen, his scrunchy muzzle turned upwards into a curvy, sly smile.
“You lost this dress, that’s it?”
Just some seconds ago, she expected him to leave leaving all this mess to herself. And he did it. He crossed the untouchable line. There was overstepping boundaries, and there was treading on thin ice, and then there was shaking salt into a gaping wound.
“That’s it? Holy Celestia what do you care other than pies, my dear lieutenant? Do you ever get angry? Do you know that kind of frustration when someone just snatched something you’ve been watching for millenniums away for the last bucking second?”
She stares at him with such unmistakable malice til his smile turns into a scared, fearful frown, “I don’t know Spits, you can bid again next time…… I…. I’ll go get some pie.”
“Of course you don’t. Who am I, expecting any answer from an immature, colt-minded stallion who just moved out from parents house a few weeks ago?” By this time, she’s yelling at full lungs now, her drill sergeant mode returning at full force. Her ember eyes penetrated deeply into his fragile soul, and within seconds, he collapsed under the bone-crushing, atmosphere-breaking pressure.
“I’m sorry………I…….why……….There’re still other dresses around.”
“Just shut up and leave!”
Upon receiving the order, Soarin rushed to his apartment with the blink of an eye, never to be seen, leaving Spitfire alone once again, mourning her loss.
Five days later, Soarin returned to their shared apartment with a goofy grin splattered across his face. Holding up a little envelope, he called out to Spitfire,
“Yo Spits, ssup?”
She mentally facehoofed. Well played big boy, one more word and you’ll never see the light of day ever again.
Surprisingly, no words came out. Only sound of paper tearing can be heard across the room. Out of curiosity, she glanced over her shoulder.
Only to be greeted with the sight of an envelope with four bold, colorful letter:
eBay.
He knew more than just pie after all. A feat.
On the other side, Soarin’s busy ripping covers. A note fell out, just as he was about to pick up, Spitfire was one step ahead. She pulled away his intercepting hoof and began to read:
From bellyrubber193 to soarie69.
Soarie69.
The very culprit of this bid-snatching crime just stood in front of her, grinning from head to tail. This is it, her bidding nemesis, her life-long enemy on eBay snatching everything away from her at the last second, now revealed. Turns out he also has fluffy wings, speaks horse language and frequents on eBay. Oh, he happens to be a Wonderbolt, too.
“I don’t know you’re into dresses, soarie69.”
He smirked, awkwardly fidgeting his hooves “Not for me, captain. It’s for…….for………for……….” He doesn’t dare look at her, in fear his secret admiration for her might have already given away.
A smile comes splattered across her face. Awww, he can be such a caring, heart-warming stud at times. But first things first, he sniped her bid, so he’s not getting away this easy.
“Lieutenant, what does the rules say about sniping bids?”
“wha….wha…..”
“Whoever snipes their superior’s bids.” She paused, emphasizing the last few words. “Gets. Punished.”
The next thing he knows, he’s tied up on bed, panting uncontrollably, sweat comes dribbling down his face. Spitfire straddles over him, the dress adorning her plump, chubby waist, her beautiful form completely overpowering his shaking yet visibly excited frame, a seductive smirk gracing her oh-so-hot face.
“Still remember the punishments?”
“Cap…..cap! …….oooooo…….oooooooooohhhhhhhhhh.”
This is going to be a fun night.
