For the Love of the Game

Author: The NLR Information Minister

Editor: Hiddenpairer

Artists: KNA, Lucky Smores and Goblin Engineer

Chapter 1: A Game of Hoofball

“Hey!” the burly bartender yelled across the room. “Were you raised in a barn? Close the damned door!” The target of his ire, a young stallion in a Baltimare jersey turned sheepishly and shut the door against the intensifying snow storm, then joined a group of his friends at a billiards table. Satisfied, the burly bartender resumed his task of drying shot glasses and placing them in neat stacks along the bar back.

“Eddie, another Pawbuckin’ Patriot, when you get a sec?” The bartender looked to the stool at the end, where a minty green Pegasus was holding up an empty glass. “Sure thing, Lightning.” he replied, reaching into a nearby refrigerator. He pulled out a brown bottle, popped off its cap and poured the sudsy contents into a fresh glass. Setting it down in front of Lightning, he smiled and offered “You keep coming in here like this, and I’ll have to see about getting this stuff on tap.” She looked down at it then gave him a wry smile. “Yeah right. I’m the only one in Baltimare who drinks this stuff.” With a hearty laugh, he went back to his shot glasses while Lightning returned her attention to the TV in the corner. “Oh, and Eddie? Thanks for recording the Syracutie game for me.” On screen, the Equestrian Sports Playback Network showed West Virwhinney taking a beating from Syracutie. Without taking her eyes off the hoofball game, Lightning raised the glass to her lips and took a long sip of the cold lager.

After the disaster that was the Wonderbolts Academy training camp, Lightning had reluctantly returned to Baltimare. She had never really considered it home, but she had a few friends here, and finding work had been easy. It was a big city, and most people didn’t bother her with unwelcome questions about her recent misadventure.

Several minutes later, the stallion in the Baltimare jersey took a seat beside her. She pretended not to notice until he asked her what she was drinking. Muttering a purposefully inaudible answer, she hoped to deter further interruption. An awkward silence stretched his chances further before he tried another angle. “Hey, isn’t that the game from the other day?” He watched it for a few more seconds before nodding in certainty and continuing “Yeah, I lost 20 bits on this next field goal.” Sure enough, the teams set up on screen for a field goal, and the kicker bounced the badly off-center kick off the upright, just barely making the attempt. Turning slowly to make eye contact with him, she deadpanned “Cool story, bro.” That did the trick. Cutting his losses, the stallion turned to Eddie and ordered some nachos. Somewhere behind them, Jersey Guy’s friends snickered at his abrupt failure.

“You’re up.” a raspy female voice announced, tapping Jersey Guy on the shoulder with a pool cue. Turning back to his friends, he welcomed the opportunity to retreat from the bar. “So the league’s finally gonna let buffalo play as linebackers next year, huh?” That same raspy voice. Lightning turned to see that it belonged to a griffon who had taken a seat a couple stools down from her.

“Yeah,” the pegasus replied “and it’s totally gonna screw up the draft, too.”

The griffon was taken aback. “Are you crazy? The other leagues have been letting them play for like...forever, and their drafts are just fine!”

“Apples and oranges.” Lightning retorted indignantly, pointing a half-full pint glass at the screen to emphasize her point. “The other leagues only did it to get fresh sponsors and make more money.”

The griffon opened her mouth to refute the know-it-all stranger, but Eddie interrupted their argument. “Can I get you something to drink?” he asked her. With her mouth still open, she looked over at Eddie, then at the Pegasus, then back at Eddie. She regained her cool, gestured towards Lightning and smiled. “Gimme what she’s having.”

After her drink arrived, the griffon and the pegasus sat in silence and stared at the TV for a spell. “You know,” the griffon said casually “I think three words has to be a new record for him.” Lightning looked over at her, confused. The griffon smirked and explained further. “You shot him down with a ‘cool story, bro’, which -- long story short -- means he owes me another 20 bits.”

Lightning pieced it all together and laughed softly. “So that was you, with the field goal bet?” The griffon nodded proudly, still wearing that smirk. “The name’s Gilda.”

Still not sure what to make of the odd character beside her, she simply replied “Lightning Dust.”

Two hours and about a dozen Pawbuckin’ Patriots later, the hoofball game had ended, Gilda’s friends had gone home, and Jersey Guy had disappeared along with his greasy nachos. Gilda had explained how the Equesipeake Bay’s bunker crop of salmon had kept her in the area longer than it did most years. Lightning tip-toed around her own personal story, simply stating that she had recently left Cloudsdale for a change of scenery. With only a handful of patrons left, Eddie had begun wiping down tables and placing chairs on top of them so he could sweep the floor.

Lightning was in the middle of a giggling fit over a story from Gilda’s days at the Junior Speedster Academy. Catching her breath, she asked “So how in the world did you manage to get a buzzy buzzard to sit quietly in there until the rest of the prank was set up?” Gilda fluttered her eyes in mock innocence, curled her agile lioness tail over her head into a makeshift halo and answered “A girl is entitled to her secrets.”

“Last call, ladies.” Eddie announced over his shoulder as he organized a few bottles behind the bar. The giggling died down and the two traded mischievous glances. “You thinking what I’m thinking?” Lightning asked. “Totally.” her partner in crime replied.

“Hayger Bombs!” they shouted in unison, startling Eddie and almost causing him to drop a bottle of twenty year old scotch. He recovered at the last instant, and glared at the two ladies. Their silly enthusiasm quickly evaporated his annoyance, and a moment later he set four glasses down in front of them.

“On three...” Gilda said, picking up her shot of Haygemeister and holding it over the larger glass of Dead Bull.

“Ok.” Lightning answered with a sly grin. Without warning, she quickly blurted out “onetwothreeGO!”, hastily dunking the dark Hayger into the golden, bubbling Dead Bull and chugging the whole concoction. Caught off guard, Gilda fumbled to prepare her own drink and catch up.

Lightning slammed her glass down, the shot glass clinking loudly inside the pint glass. A moment later, Gilda’s glass landed sloppily on the bar beside her friend’s. Wiping her mouth with a forehoof, the pegasus blew a stray strand of mane out of her eyes and chirped “I win. Now pay the man.”

Gilda’s jaw dropped. “Hey, you little dweeb.” she objected. “That wasn’t in the rules!”

“Sure it was. Try to keep up.” Lightning said, nonchalantly inspecting an imaginary chip in her non-existent hooficure. After a moment of silence, she glanced over at the griffon to make sure she wasn’t actually angry.

“I see how it is.” Gilda said in a low voice. “Lucky for both of us, it just so happens that I recently won 40 bits from a certain lame-o friend of mine.” This time Lightning was caught off guard, and she laughed. The stray strand fell back down into her face and she snorted, causing her to laugh harder.

Gilda dropped a fistful of bits onto the bar and turned her head sideways, squinting through one eye and more than a few drinks as she tried to count up their tab. “Want me to call you a cab?” Eddie offered as he took the payment and cleared away their empty glasses.

“Hmm??” Lightning said, lifting her head from the bar. “I’m good.” Gilda answered, then jerked her head towards the mare beside her and added “I’ll get her home.”

Outside, the snow had stopped falling, and a crescent moon shone brightly over the city. “Let’s get you home.” Gilda said, shaking some powdery snow off of her claws.

“Pssh, as if.” the mint-colored pegasus said playfully. “I would expect a lame line like that one from your doofus friend.”

“Lame?” Gilda huffed. “I’ll show you lame.” With that, she rammed her shoulder into the mare, toppling her into a snowbank. “Oh shit!” Gilda laughed, surprised at how far the smaller one had bounced.

“Hey!” Lightning whined, getting back on her hooves. “I’ll get you back for that.”

Gilda took a moment to let her catch her breath. “Yeah. I’m counting on it.”

“This weekend, then.” the pegasus challenged. “I’m going to the hoofball game. Gonna drag a cloud up high, over the 50 yard line. You game?”

The griffon thought about it for a moment and shrugged. “I dunno. I have a lot of stuff to do, but if I get some time, I might drop by.”

Lightning flapped her wings momentarily, shaking the snow out of them. “Fine.” she said, a little dismissively. “Show up, or don’t.”

Gilda looked the mare over and softened her tone almost imperceptibly. “Like I said, I’ll try to drop by.”

The pegasus nodded and without another word, launched herself skyward with a powerful flap of her wings. She took off with such force that a cloud of snow engulfed her new friend. Once the powdery mess had settled, Gilda stood alone, gazing at a rapidly fading ribbon of cyan and yellow as it darted across the sky and disappeared over the horizon.

Author's Note

Hiddenpairer is a fantastic editor. This story would never have seen the light of day without his help.

Artistic credits:
Cloud Background by Goblin Engineer
Gilda by Hasbro, revectorized by KNA
Lightning Dust by Hasbro, revectorized by Lucky Smores
All I did was slap them together with MS Paint.

2 Golden Scootaloos to whoever can identify the beer they were drinking
5 Golden Scootaloos to whoever can tell us the final score of the real-life game referenced in this chapter.