Good Luck, Bad Luck
By: Dj Bron3
Editor: Dr. Hoofs
“Good freaking morning…” you mumble as you roll out of bed. Correction. Less, “Roll,” and more, “Completely fall out and hit your head,” out of bed.
“Oof! Aw, I hate mornings!” you yell at nothing as you try your best to stand up. Other ponies might see the current situation as a “tough luck” scenario, but the truth is, this is pretty much how you start every day of every month of every year.
“Great. I can tell it’s gonna be one of those days.” you say to yourself as that exact thought crosses your mind.
Before you can contemplate all the ways that today could go wrong, your roommate bursts through the door.
“Good morning Dice Roll! I heard you yelling to yourself and I figured you were awake!” He cheers with a deliteful grin. “Ugh, not now Poker Chip, Please!” you beg with an annoyed growl.
“Uh Oh.” he says with an amused tone. “Looks like somepony has the Monday Morning Blues!”
At this point, you are really grumpy, it is Monday, and to top it off, you have your best friend as a roommate; every morning he tries to cheer you up. Why won’t he understand that you just need time alone in the morning?
“Are all stallions this irritating in the morning?” you ask while brushing your mane. The brush is enveloped by the same color of magic as your unicorn horn.
“Aw come on.” he replies. “Surely we males aren’t all that bad.” he says with a purr.
As annoying as he was, Poker Chip had a point. You know he means well, but he just doesn’t know the right way to go about doing it. You also remember one time when the two of you had shared a kiss. But you were both drunk, and when you woke up with hangovers the next morning, you had promised never to speak of it again.
“Just shut up and let me think.” you snap. He pretends to look hurt. “Oh, okay.” he says before walking away slowly with his head down.
You roll your eyes in pity for the poor buck. “Well, I guess we can go out and do something. But only after I get my head together, alright?”
His ears perk up as he turns around to hug you tightly. “Thanks Dice! You have no idea how boring it is waiting for you to wake up!”
You give him a smile before giving him your reply. “Then don’t wake up so early.” you say with a laugh as you pry the stallion away from you with both forelegs.
“But I like seeing Celestia raise the sun!” he whines. “Also, I just love seeing the expression on your face when you haven’t had your coffee.”
You give him another roll of your eyes. You had been friends with this pony since preschool, and he still manages to surprise you with his annoyance.
“So about an hour?” he asks as he walks toward the door. “Yeah, that should be long enough.” you respond. He nods, finally realising how badly you had woken up.
After he disappears out the door, your conscience kicks in, and you feel bad for snapping at him. “Poker!” you call out. He pops his head inside the door and looks around with a confused look on his face.
“Oh, were you talking to me, or inviting me to a certain game of chance?” he asks with a smirk. You laugh at this. He was such a wisecrack. With your luck, you wouldn’t dare challenge the luckiest pony alive to a game of poker.
“Look, I’m sorry I barked at you. Are we cool?” you ask sincerely. His smile doesn’t fade in the least as he answers, “Cool as ice, Dice.” to which you facehoof with a groan.
“What?” he asks, not letting up. “No need to be so cold.”
Another facehoof.
“Aw come on. You have ‘Absolute Zero’ sense of humor.”
A facehoof followed by a groan, louder this time.
“Aren’t you gonna say something? Or are you giving me the ‘Cold Shoulder’?
‘Why is he doing this to me?’ you think to yourself. You growl at him as a warning to stop.
“Woah, chill.” he says, raising his forehooves defensively.
Your growl settles down before you can ask Poker a serious question calmly. You take a deep breath before saying something. “Are you quite done now? Because I haven’t had my coffee yet, and you’re getting on my nerves.”
He chuckles before admitting that he has no more cold puns to throw at you.
You sigh as he leaves you alone to get your thoughts together. He really was an insufferable stallion, but he wasn’t that bad. Having him around was like having a good luck charm. His “horseshoe inside a poker chip” cutie mark gave him a strong enough gift to counter your own “Snake eyes” cutie mark.
You try to remember when you received your cutie mark of twin dice. You remember that you were playing a game of Ogres and Oubliettes with Poker Chip as a filly. The two of you were so young back then that neither of you had your cutie marks.
It was your turn to roll the dice to see if your Paladin Centaur could deal critical damage to Poker’s Monk Changeling.
When you rolled your dice, it was a snake eyes pair of ones. No critical. Then, when Poker rolled the dice on his turn, he rolled a whopping double ten. Twenty points critical damage.
When you and Poker finished your game for that day, both of you realised that you had gotten your cutie marks!
Looking back to the present, you notice that sadly, your cutie mark was a cursed sign of bad luck, while Poker’s was a blessing of good fortune.
While you use your magic to pour some coffee into a mug reading, “Caffeine is Magic!”, you silently curse fate for giving you such a rotten cutie mark.
Being so distracted by your fate, Lady Luck decides to frown on you once again by having you unknowingly over-pour your coffee, making it overflow and splash onto your forelegs.
You jump at the sudden heat and wetness of the freshly spilled coffee, impulsively yelling out some words that would make your mother wash out your mouth with soap for a week.
You hear the door to the kitchen open. Looking over your shoulder, you see Poker Chip standing in the doorway with his mouth hanging wide open.
“By Celestia’s flowing sunrise, what happened in here?!” he yells; his tone warning you to hush your muzzle.
After a moment of deep breathing, you tell your roommate what happened, and that there is no need to worry.
He sighs, clearly having expected there to be some sort of high level emergency, but also relieved that there was nothing to worry about.
“Luna’s sakes, Dice Roll. You do realise that we live across the street from the school right?”
Your face drops as you remember the two reasons why you and Poker bought this particular house. One, it was decently near the edge of town, and two, it was because the bills were cheap.
Another one of the reasons the two of you were living together was because neither of you were could afford the price of living here on your own. Poker Chip ran a small time casino on the outskirts of Ponyville, and you got by with fortune telling and tarot card readings. Together, the pay the monthly bills and buy necessary food for the both of you.
You finished drinking the rest of your coffee. Luckily, without spilling any this time. Now it is time to keep your promise to your roommate. You may not have liked it as much as you could, but you are a mare of your word.
“Poker!” you call out again. This time, the stallion doesn’t pop his head in the door. “Poker!” you call out again, louder this time. Still nothing. This was strange because the buck usually came to his name being called like a moth to a lamp. You decide to investigate.
You poke your head out the door. Nothing. No sign of him anywhere. ‘Maybe he already left’ you think as you walk down the hallway. You slowly come to a stop. Your ears twitch as they detect a slight noise. Music. It was quiet, as if it was far away or muffled.
Following the sound of music through your house, you realise that it is getting clearer and less distant as you get closer.
Finally, you find the source of the music. And who else should you find listening to it through his headphones but none other than your roommate best friend Poker Chip himself.
Your eyes roll as you understand why he had not come running at the sound of his name being called. ‘Nopony could hear anything through music that loud’ you reason, deciding to forgive him for not responding.
Your smile drops as you realise where Poker is walking. About ten feet in front of him is a large open legged ladder. And Poker Chip is about to walk right under it.
Your superstitious brain kicks into an instinctive haste. Before you realise it, you had knocked Poker to the ground before he could walk under the ladder.
“Hey! Dice Roll?! What the hell?!” he yells, either because of his anger or the fact that he couldn’t hear what he was saying over his loud music.
“You were just about to walk under a ladder!” you counter. “And look at that!” you say while pointing with your hoof. On the edge of the ladder, there is a can of paint. All it would take would be one wrong move, and the can would fall over the edge.
“So what?” he says, pushing you off him. “It’s not like it would fall over at the very same time I walked under it!” he says, clearly unappreciative that you saved him from an unhappy little accident just waiting to happen.
From the look you give him, you’re still unconvinced. From the look he gives you, he is going to try and convince you.
“Look,” he says before walking under the ladder. The can of paint does not move. “See? Nothing happened.” he says with a smirk.
It was almost convincing enough, but you can’t be sure until you walk under the ladder yourself.
As luck would have it, just as you’re about to finish walking under it, your tail brushes the side of the ladder, and the can of paint tips over the edge. The contents spill all over you! The sudden wave of cold liquid makes you shriek. The paint gives your hide, mane, and tail a monochromatic coating.
“AAAAHHHH!” you scream. Less at Poker Chip, and more at yourself for your own misfortune.
“YOU SEE?! I TOLD YOU THIS WOULD HAPPEN!” you continue yelling. This time at Poker Chip for not believing you.
“Sheesh.” he says while using his own magic to levitate his headphones away from his ears. “Are all mares this annoying when a can of paint falls on them?”
You growl at him again. “This is not the time for jokes Poker Chip…” you say with an implied warning in your tone. The cold paint slowly creeping its way down your legs makes you shiver. You slowly realise that the liquid is only flowing down your hind legs, and that it isn’t paint.
“Sweet Celestia…” Poker says, a grin slowly forming on his face. Then he breaks out into hysterical laughter, rolling onto his back and holding his stomach. “YOU PEED YOURSELF!” he says between laughs.
Your face turns red as a rose as you slowly back away from the stallion, who is now crying with laughter.
Once you back yourself into the hallway, you bolt away as fast as your legs can carry you. Your priority now is to find the bathroom for a shower and a towel.
After a cold wash, you walk back to where you had left Poker Chip. The stallion had finally stopped laughing, but the smile on his face implied that you wouldn’t hear the end of this for a while.
“Dice Roll is clumsy! Dice Roll is clumsy!” he sings. “I am not clumsy! It was bad luck!” you yell. “Dice, I’ve told you a hundred times! There’s no such thing as bad luck!” he yells back, now serious.
True, Poker Chip had told you that repeatedly, but your go to comeback had always been, “Says you Mister Runs-A-Casino.” But he would always say that a casino was different. He would tell you that the machines in the casino gave out winnings based on probability. Not luck. “Two very things,” he would say.
Poker Chip had obviously had enough. “Alright, that’s it! I’ve had it with you and your constant obsession with bad luck!”
OBSESSION?! THE NERVE! He had no right to say you were obsessed with bad luck! Your cutie mark, which told you your fate, was a unlucky pair of dice showing snake eyes! You couldn’t help the fact that you had bad luck!
“If you say something bad will happen, then that’s what’s going to happen!” he yells. “But if you stay optimistic, then good things will happen.” he says, now taking deep breaths, trying to calm down.
After his breath slows back down to normal, he talks again. Calmly this time. “Look, if you’re still unconvinced, then I’ll show you, with proof, the non-existence of bad luck.”
Non-existence? What would it take to get through to him? You say that if he is going to try to prove luck doesn’t exist, then you’re going to try to prove that it does. He bursts out laughing. After he calms down, he smiles, clearly in a good mood again.
“What’s so funny? You don’t think I can do it?” you ask him. “No, I just think this is starting to look like a challenge.”
You blink in surprise. This whole time you’ve been taking this seriously, and all of a sudden, Poker thinks he can make a game out of this? Your mind starts to think it might be kind of fun.
“Alright. Here’s the challenge/” he starts. “You and I will try to prove to each other which kind of luck really exists, or that there is no such thing as luck.”
As he explained the rules, which were pretty basic, first before sundown, no use of magic, stuff like that, you begin to think of how to prove your side.
Your thoughts are taken right out of your brain as Poker says exactly what you were thinking. “So, what are some things that are considered good or bad luck?” Your brain’s gears start turning as you try to remember all the superstitions you’ve heard.
“Ladybug crawling on you.”
“Opening an umbrella indoors.”
“Four leafed clover.”
“Walking under a ladder.”
“I think that ship has sailed Dice.”
“Oh right. I forgot.”
“How about breaking a mirror?”
“No way! That means seven years bad luck!”
“Ok! Fine! What about the numbers seven or thirteen?”
“Lucky number and unlucky number.”
“What about a black cat?”
“I think Fluttershy might have at least one in her cottage.”
“Well what are doing standing around here?”
“Next step, Fluttershy’s cottage.”
When you and Poker Chip go to her cottage, it turns out that Fluttershy had a superstitious pony’s worst nightmare inside waiting for you. Fluttershy has a black cat alright. And another. And another, and another, and another. Inside her house, Fluttershy is hosting what can easily be a few dozen black cats.
“Oh dear.” Fluttershy whispers in her gentle voice. You barely hear her over the sound of the cats. “I wasn’t expecting company. Is there something I can help you with?”
You tell Fluttershy what you and Poker Chip are here for. Her eyes light up when you tell her back cats are bad luck. “Oh goodness! I have no idea where such a superstition could have came from, but these cats are just as sweet and cute as any other cats.”
Poker uses his magic to lift up one of the cats and inspect it more carefully. “Oh careful, that’s Spice. She’s not as nice as the others.”
And Fluttershy isn’t exaggerating when she says an animal isn’t nice. As soon as Fluttershy says that, Spice unsheathes her claws and starts scratching at Poker. In a flash of instinctual reflex, Poker releases his field of magic around Spice and flings her in a random direction. Unfortunately, that random direction just so happened to be yours. “This is gonna hurt isn’t it?” you ask just before the raging cat flies onto your face.
“Ow. Ow. Ow.” you say in bursts as Poker dabs rubbing alcohol on your scratch wounds.
“To be fair, Fluttershy did warn you.” he says as he wrings out the cloth he is using. “You, you mean. She warned you about Spice’s attitude problem.” you remind him. “Details, details.” he says, sweeping the comment aside. “The fact remains. I admit it, you really do have bad luck.”
“Thanks.” you mutter. It doesn’t really feel like a victory. In fact, it feels like you lost at the game of life. “Hey, it’s okay. Here, do you need a hug?” he asks, holding his forelegs out in an embrace.
You decide to take him up on that. You hug him tightly, taking in the sound of his breathing. He was a healthy buck. Squeezing in two hours of fitness training every day couldn’t be easy. Your mind finds itself thinking that the stallion was actually attractive.
You find comfort in Poker Chip’s embrace. You feel the heat emitting from his body……..Wait…………..Heat? You look into his face, then slowly trace your eyes down his body, and HOLY GODDESSES OF THE SUN AND MOON! Poker Chip was excited.
“Oh this is too good….” you whisper as Poker blushes a crimson red. “I’m so sorry. I’ve just never hugged a mare before.”
You smile as a devilish thought crosses your mind. “That’s okay. Because where you’re going, you won’t have to do anything.” you say before leading him to the master bedroom.
A week later, you are running down the stairs yelling, “Poker! You really need to come and see this!”
You see him making coffee in the kitchen. “What’s all the commotion about? I’m trying to wake up.”
“Now’s not the time for jokes Poker!” you say before letting him take a sip of coffee. “I tested positive!”
Poker starts coughing, which turns into a violent retching. After a while, he starts taking deep breaths before asking, “Positive on what?”
“The pregnancy test you idiot! I’m pregnant!” you yell at him. His eyes go wide in shock. “How could this happen?” you ask. “The only male I’ve been with was you, and you wore protection!” He breaks into a smile.
“Unlucky you. I guess it must have broke.”
