“What? No Bean Bags?” Brad asked half jokingly at the sweating bounty hunter. The back of the human's shoulders brushed up aganst the hallway ceiling forcing him to uncomfortably slouched over the green stallion.

“Thanks to u, Ah'm all out of bean bag loads.” The bounty hunter grumbled as he chewed on his toothpick, his finger tightening on the trigger of the shotgun.

“Okay! Chill man!” Brad said as he stared crossed eyed at the warm metal muzzle of the 12 gauge perched on the tip of his nose. He sat down on his haunches and slowly held up his fore legs. “If you want me be a statue, then, like, I'm Discord.”

The bounty hunter gave the florescent colored stallion an odd look before he burst out into a roar of laughter.

“uh, ha, ha?” Brad said nervously.

“Whoo-wee...That's uh good one! Discord. Ha!” The man said as he used his free hand to wipe away a tear from underneath his sunglasses. “Heh. Ah hadn't had mahself uh gut buster like that for uh long time. If ya only knew. Ah, heh, heheh!”

“Like, thanks?”

The bounty hunter's merriment evaporated into a scowl. “Now, Ah don't wanna kill ya, an' ya don't wanna be dead.” The human said as he yanked loosed a piece of corded rope attached to side of the shotgun's magazine tube.

“So whats it gonna be?” The bounty hunter asked as a large corded noose swung freely from the end of the shotgun. “Are yer gonna come along quietly or are yer goin' to be trouble?”

“There is no way that going to fit, pig.” The neon stallion said coolly as he cross his forelegs across his chest.

Brad watch Time Turner's eye's nearly bugged out of his head at his blatant refusal to cooperate with the redneck. To anypony else, it would look like the day glow stallion had just signed off on the cause of his own death. But to Brad Carter it was golden opportunity to get away from a towering, straw hat wearin' thug.

Before Brad's life changing experience happen, parkour was his life. If he wasn't free running, he was either watching the show My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic or asleep. And even then, he was at least dreaming about it. To say that Brad Carter was an expert on gravity and it's effects on humans was gross understatement. Brad Carter was the proverbial scholar on the very subject.

So when he saw that the hunched over bounty hunter with only one free hand and one leg supporting himself while the other held the exit door shut, he didn't see a fully geared up 275 pound bounty hunter that was ready to rearrange his pony face.

He saw 275 pounds of deadweight that was poorly supported.

Time Turner finally decided to speak up in the hopes of persuading the bounty hunter into not eating his newest friend and customer. “Uh, Mr. Coltran sir? I am so sorry! I didnt' know-” He started to say as he ducked under the leg that the bounty using to keep the door to the alleyway shut.

“Shut up and git outta here before Ah change mah mind an' charge ya with aidin' an' abettin' an wanted fugitive.”

Turner gave Brad a look disappointment mixed with fear as he open his mouth to say something to him. But the bounty hunter didn't give the shopkeeper a chance to speak.

“What are ya standin still around for?! Ah said git the fuck out, horse!” The bounty hunter roared. Turner yelp and bolted out of hallway. The redneck gave brad a toothy grin as he heard the slam of the halldoor.

“Hell's your problem?!” Brad said glaring up at the bounty hunter. “You didn't have do that! He didn't know! Why do you like causing so much trouble for everypony?”

“Ah don't like trouble. Ah um trouble. An' ya startin' to cramp mah style. So shut ya trap an' put on yer necktie.”

“Dude. I already told you, it's not going to fit.”

“If I want your opinion, I'll beat it outta ya twerp! Now, put ya head thru.” The bounty hunter said as he thrust the noose towards to Brad's face.

“Do it yourself, you inbred, shit-suckin' hillbilly!” Brad gave the man his biggest grin.

“U SUNNA WHOR-” The bounty hunter thundered out as his hand came rushing down to grab Brad's mane. And played right into Brad Carter's hooves. As Brad fell over onto his side, the enrage bounty hunter bent even further over to allow his hand to trail after the bright pink mane.

'The bigger they are...' Brad though as he kick out with his hind legs at the bent over bounty hunter's leg. The man let out cried of surprise as his leg slid out from under him causing him to lose his balance and tumble head first into the floorboards.

The neon pony rolled beneath the somersaulting man, like a surf boarder riding inside the hollow curl of a wave, before flipping backwards onto his hooves to safety.

Brad gallop away, glancing over looking over his shoulder to the flaying and cursing pile of bounty hunter on the floor and grinned to himself. '…The harder they fall.'

·~ ͽ¤ͼ ~·

Mal was cussing up a storm as he got to his feet. “Goddamn shit-stain, jap-slappin', peckerhead sum uh-” The bounty hunter's band of his straw hat flipped over his eyes as he hit the back of his head on the low ceiling.

'The fuck um Ah doin'?' Mal questioned as he stood in a hallway build to for ponies, chunks of ceiling plaster raining about his shoulders and down the neck of his collar.

'Ah should be shillin' shitty law enforcement products. Ah should be givin' the bank the run around as they try to foreclose on another one of mah apartment buildin's. Ah should be on the phone screamin' at mah moneygrubbin' ex-wife for not allowin' me to see mah daughter again.

'Yet here Ah um. One year later, livin' in shack with uh trunk full of gold an' still stuck in the land of talkin' horses. Those two bitches must be really yucking up there right now. Jes sittin' pretty up in that fancy castle of theirs, talkin' about jes' what uh sucker ol' Mauler Coltran is – Of how the baddest, ass kickin' bounty hunter in the good ol' US of A is reduced to sum retard custodial cowboy that wrangles up sad sacks of shits.'

“Well fuck that noise!” The Bounty hunter roared as he pounded his fist into the ceiling. “DO YA HEAR ME MOTHERFUCKER! AH AIN'T BEATEN YET! HELLS UH COMMIN' FOR DINNER! AN' HE'S BRIN' UH SIDE DISH OF PAIN FOR YA!”

·~ ͽ¤ͼ ~·

Brad was standing at the top of a staircase. He didn't know for how long. All he knew was entire upstairs of Time Turner's shop was anything short of amazing.

Clocks. Clocks every wheres! The entire second floor was entirely wide open and fill with an assortment of clocks of all shapes and sizes. There were work spaces covered with clocked parts, gears, gems, springs and pull chains. Stack piles of books of all kinds. Chalk boards covered in recorded charts and graphs. Barrows and crates filled with clock hands and levers. The entire massive workshop of chaos looked like a steam punk enthusiast's wet dream.

But it was what sat in the middle of the cluttered room that had Brad Carter forget all about his current troubles momentarily.

The object in question was an beautifully craved chaise longue. The kind that Rarity would always use to faint on in the My Little Pony show. Heck, Brad wouldn't have even known what a chaise longue even was if it weren't for a cartoon show about talking ponies.

But what made this chaise longue stand out from Rarity's was that it was destine for greater things then being used as stage for mellow dramatics.

It had brass banister rails with steam values outlining the ornate piece of french made upholstered furniture. It had huge column that jutted from the corner of the headrest, with numerous brash branches of levelers, each tipped with large color gems. At the top of the column was an huge tree like canopy made entirely of thick pieces of prism glass.

Either Time Turner was either constructing an amazing work of art or he was building himself a time machine straight outta HG Wells. Brad want to examine it closer, but the maze of clutter was preventing him from doing so. He sworn that he saw a carving of sorts in each individual glass prism.

The green stallion was about to attempt to enter into Turner's work space/labyrinthine when he heard sounds of shouts coming from downstairs.

“I don't allow anypony to go upstairs. Not even you!”

·~ ͽ¤ͼ ~·

“Git the hell outta mah way, horse!” The Mal yelled at the pony preventing him from going ascending the stair.

The brown coated stallion tried to bring itself to it's full height as it stood in front of the Bounty hunter.

“I'm sorry, but I'm afraid I can't let you pass!” The shopkeeper said with stern conviction. “You can search every where else but the upstairs is off limits!”

But the bounty hunter chuckled loudly as he display his yellowed gap teeth. “Oh, really? Well, Ah got uh badge an' this here 12 gauge that says Ah can!”

Mal shoved the pony aside as he moved up the stairs, his heavy boots causing the stair to creak and moan in protest with each step.

“Your only wasting your time! I told you already, your fugitive escaped out the front of my shop!” Mal ignored him as he continued up the staircase. The shopkeeper tugged on Mal's cargo pant's leg. “D-Don't you need a writ or a warrant or something?”

“The hell ya hiding up there, other then sum green freak?!” Mal shout at the pony in exasperated.

“Uh, none thing, really!” The stallion shopkeeper said as he backed down a step. “Honest!”

Suddenly there was loud thump as something fell over upstairs.

“Did ya smell that?” Mal asked in a stage whisper as he sniffed the air.

“Smell what?” The perplex shopkeeper whispered back.

“Smells...” Mal took a big dramatic whiff of the air. “...Like sum horse been caught fibbin' to the Mauler.”

“What?! I don't-WAH!” The surprised shopkeeper cried out as Mal booted the pony down the stairs. He chuckle as he watched the brown stallion fall down flight of stairs before turning and climbed the rest of the stairs.

When Mal reached the top of the staircase he scanned around the huge junk strewn room. Mal wrinkled his nose at the smell. The place smelt like an old abandon barn. 'Ho-lee-Shit. Someone call Horders.' Mal thought as he kick a metal sprocket with the toe of his combat boots.

“Don't worry.” The bounty hunter chortled. “Ah promise to close mah eyes if Ah come across any of yer horsie porn stash.”

“Don't you DARE touch anything!” An angry voice from down below yelled. “Your primitive intellect wouldn't understand alloys and compositions and things with molecular structures!”

'Goddamn horses!' Mal thought tiredly as he flipped a book off a work table with the end of his Mossberg. 'Goddamn horses and their boring, dumb horse secrets. Speaking of horses...'

Author's Note

Will Brad Carter AKA Twinkle-Toes, AKA 360 Parkour Stuntmaster 4 Life get away from ol' meanie pants Mal 'Mauler' Coltran?

Will Mal finally throw in the towel and finally learn that friendship is truly magical?

Will Time Turner be able to stop the interdimensional space vampires from assassinating Princess Celestia?

I have no idea.

Your guess is as good as mine.

Coming up next: ...Flying Pony