Step Up, Don't Suck

by KodyGears

Chapters

Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter One

Chapter Two

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“Allie!”

“Sorry.”

The bowling had concluded and you had about as well as a performance as to be expected. (High score: 28) Treble bowled almost exactly his average while Sea Swirl had a really good day. Of course, Allie completely ran away with the lead.

Now, as promised, you and Allie are currently locked in another head to head battle of your favorite arcade game in the bowling alley, Street Fighter II: The Equestria Warrior. The two of you would often play when you were finished bowling. It allowed for some of the kids around to clear out when their parents finished up bowling themselves and took them home. Some of your matches get quite intense.

Unfortunately, as Allie Way gets into the game, she starts to lean forward toward the screen. Sometimes she leans in far enough that it starts to block your vision of what’s going on. A quick reminder is enough for her to lean back, though. Still, with how close to the screen she gets, it’s almost a wonder how she doesn’t need glasses.

Either way, she still remains as the toughest opponent you know. She uses one of those “bullet hell” strategies. She always says it’s to keep you on the edge of your wit, but you think it’s because she likes to torture you with a screen full of projectiles. You can put up a pretty good fight though. If you ever break through her endless wall of shots, you can deal some good damage to her. In the end, you often end the match with one of you only having a few hit points to spare.

“I’m closing in on ya!” you say, feeling like a predator going in for the kill.

“No! No!” she squeals excitedly, leaning to her side. She often reflects what happens in game, as if she is physically trying to dodge your character’s actions in real life.

You narrowly dodge another one of her missiles and pull a fake out on her. Going low instead of high, you input the string of commands you have on muscle memory. Low, medium, medium, launch. Medium, medium, heavy, launch, quarter-circle backward, and super!

You watch as her character’s lifebar rapidly drains. Allie frantically mashes buttons as she constantly repeats “no” to herself, hoping to break out of the attack. Her efforts are all for naught as her vitality drains to zero and the game declares you the winner.

“AAAAUUGH!” Allie exclaims, leaning back with her hooves in her face. You watch her display, your shoulders shaking due to a silent chuckle as your character’s victory animation plays. You’re a little afraid she might fall over with how far back she bends. After a few seconds she begins to lean forward again, hooves dropping with one of them landing next to the joystick.

“Rematch,” is all she says.

You smile as you pull out a bit. She paid for your first match so now it’s your turn. Dropping it into the machine, a sound plays confirming that your money has been entered. Pressing the two-player option, the screen flashes before opening back up to the character select screen with its rather energetic music to get you pumped up for the battle that’s about to occur.

Putting your cursor over P. Honda, your usual character, you don’t select yet instead letting the timer run down as you get a quick breather from the last fight. Even though it’s just a game, sometimes it really does take it out of you.

Allie keeps going back and forth between certain characters, sometimes humming to herself in thought, as if she’s trying to think of which character would best counter your choice. Flipping throughout the list for a little bit, the timer to select a character begins to get dangerously low. She ultimately decides on Pen, her usual choice, and you finalize your selections.

The screen then shifts over to the stage select screen. You scan over all of the available countries, trying to decide where to duke it out. Whenever Allie chooses, she never really cares about where you go and often just picks the first place her cursor happens to land on. You put a little more thought into it, trying to pick something that would best fit the mood. And right now, the Amareican stage seems the most appealing, if only because you want to hear the theme that plays on it.

As the game starts up and that familiar tune hits your ears, you immediately prepare for the onslaught of projectiles that she has in store for you. Taking to the air, you’re surprised when she suddenly bum-rushes you, going in with her melee rather than her missiles. Your character’s vitality begins to chip away as she pulls a simple combo on you. You quickly regain your bearings as she drops it and you begin to bring the pain onto her once again.

As you slug away at her, you notice her leaning forward in the corner of your eye. Her teeth are gritted and her eyes never seem to blink. She acts almost as if her whole life rides on this one game. You can’t fight the urge to smile. You always thought it was cute with how overly determined she can get.

You bring your full attention back to the game, only to cringe as a result. You probably should have been paying attention, as she’s now wailing away on you again. You rock the joystick in an attempt to break out of her combo string as your health falls away in discernible chunks.

Finally, a break in her assault gives you time to put some distance between you and her. You see her backing up as well, undoubtedly gearing up to finish you off with a barrage of projectiles. Without much time to act, you move forward again as her character begins his animation with his hooves glowing with energy. As it releases, you jump over and close the gap before rapidly tapping the attack button. Your character begins dealing out the blows himself as the fight begins to turn in your favor.

“That freaking Hundred Hoof Slap!” Allie yells out in frustration. You know it’s cheap, but then again, you’re not the one who bases their strategy around throwing projectiles. As she mashes all the buttons and wrenches the joystick all around to the point you’re half afraid she’ll break the machine, you hear some ponies come up behind you.

“So, instead of bowling, y’all come here to practice and get good at them little filly games?” they ask.

A quick glimpse behind you confirms who it is. Sighing inwardly, you wonder why Hard Ball is here. His team usually finishes and packs up before yours. You guess it’s because today your team went fast because you really wanted to hit the arcade. You choose to ignore him as Allie breaks free from your combo.

He chuckles before continuing. “The two of you are just wastin’ yer bits on these stupid games. Y’all could probably do somethin’ real good with the money you throw away on these-”

“AH-BUP-BUP-BUP!” Allie exclaims, flailing a hoof somewhere in Hard Ball’s direction before returning it to tapping the buttons, eyes never moving away from the screen.

The stallion gives you a confused gesture, pointing at the mare with a raised eyebrow. All you can do is give a shrug in return before bringing your eyes back to the screen.

“Ya see? These things are turnin’ yer brains into mush! Just look at her!” he exclaims loudly, pointing towards the mare beside you. When he doesn’t get a response out of Allie, he sighs and continues. “It’s no wonder y’all aren’t any good.”

“C’mon Hard Ball, we went over this earlier.” you respond as you input another combo. “It isn’t about winning, it’s about fun.”

“Yuh.” Allie mumbles half-attentively. You raise an eyebrow at her as she mashes the buttons feverishly.

“Is that what y’all think?” he asks, the words icy as they leave his mouth. You give him a nod, not taking your eyes off the screen for a second. “Well then, what if it were all about winning?”

Your feel ears perk up. “What are you getting at?”

“What I’m sayin’ is how’s about yer team an’ mine have a little wager?” he asks, smugness oozing from his voice.

“Pfft,” you respond. “We’d never agree to that, would we Allie?”

“That’s nice,” she responds, starting to lean a little too close to the screen again.

“Allie.”

“Sorry.”

“Well I know you ain’t got the guts for the challenge...” Out of the corner of your vision, you see him walk around to beside Allie Way, who has now switched to a more defensive game. It’s hard to get around her blocks as she’s waiting to get her own jabs in “But what about yer team captain here?”

You begin to see trouble brewing in this situation. “Hey, you can’t ask Allie now, we’re in the middle of something here!”

Your cries are ignored as Hard Ball begins, “Allie, what would you say ‘bout yer team against mine? Think you can take us in a game of bowling with somethin’ on the line?”

“Neat,” she responds, still unaware of the world outside the arcade cabinet.

“In fact, I might just go ahead an’ do y’all a favor...” he states with a wicked grin. “We compete in the wager known as... the Bowler’s Bond?”

“The Bowler’s what?” you ask. You take your eyes off the screen for only a moment as a combo goes through her defenses and momentarily stuns her character.

“Oh c’mon, everypony knows about The Bond! The wager of two captains for what is most important to them.” He turns his pestering back to Allie. “So whaddya say? We got a bet, captain?”

“Yeah, whatever.” she mumbles.

“Wait, what!?” you exclaim, taking your hooves off the controls. “Allie-”

“Well that settles it!” Hard Ball butts in. “It’s a bet! How does two weeks from now sound?”

“Cool.” Allie murmurs.

“Perfect! Two weeks it is then!” he says before circling around back to your side. He closes the distance before whispering into your ear. “Make sure y’all bring your A-game. Celestia knows you’ll need it.”

Your eyes no longer focusing on the screen, you watch Hard Ball as he trots away, cackling all the while. A rock begins to form in your gut. If this is just a simple bet, then he is way too happy about it.

The victory fanfare of the arcade machine rings in your ears as Allie lets go of her controls. Springing backward, she begins to shout.

“WOO!” she exclaims, waving her hoof toward your snout. “IN YOUR FACE! Time for you to go home and be a family colt!”

You simply stare at her, mouth agape. She doesn’t notice your expression as she dances around goofily, humming some victorious tune. When it comes to bragging, Allie doesn’t joke around.

She continues her display for a while. “So was somepony talking to us?” she asks in the middle of ‘stirring the pot’.

“You just... agreed to a bet against Hard Ball. Our team against his in two weeks,” you say, still somewhat in shock.

“Wait, what!?” Allie exclaims, her dancing coming to an abrupt end. “Why would I ever do that?”

Your eyes go between her and the arcade machine.

“...Oh,” she replies simply. With a shrug she adds, “Well, it’s not a big deal. We’ll just tell him the bet’s off and we don’t want to do it.”

“What if he doesn’t let us back out?” you ask.

“Please. Then it’s just a case of saying, ‘I’m the manager so shut up.’ Simple as that.”

Her response causes you to smile. She’s right, they can’t actually force you to go through with the bet and even if they try, Allie has authority here. They may try to call you a few more names, but that’d be nothing new. You let yourself relax a little more.

“You’re right,” you say. “Them and their silly little ‘Bowler’s Bond’. So, next game?”

If there is a record for the fastest drop in a facial expression, Allie would have broken it just now. The smile on her face vanishes in an instant and is replaced with a concerning frown as her eyes widen. You could have sworn you saw one of her eyelids twitch, too.

“Th-The what...what did you just say?” she asks shakily.

“Uh...the bet?” you reply unsurely. “He said something about the ‘Bowler’s Bond.’ Why?”

“He, uh...” she begins with a shaky chuckle, “He didn’t mention anything about ‘the wager of two captains for what is most important to them,’ did he?”

“Yeah?” you say, concern building up again.

Her eyes defy all logic and widen even more. “Oh no, no no no nonononono! This is not good, this is very not good!”

“Wh-What?” you ask. “What is so ‘not good’ about the Bowler’s Bond?”

“Did I just hear somepony say ‘Bowler’s Bond?’”

A third voice enters the conversation from behind you. Turning around, you are greeted with a mare sporting a large, red mane and an overwhelming amount of make-up. Standing before you is the owner of the alley, Big Wig. And judging from the excited look in her eyes, she seems quite keen to ensure that she heard you correctly.

“Uh...yes?” you respond nervously.

“Oh my,” the mare starts. “We haven’t had a Bowler’s Bond in ages! Hoowee, this is exciting!”

The feeling of nervousness in your gut steadily growing, you cast a glance over to Allie, only to find her with her hooves on her head and shaking it from side to side. “Um...I’m a little in the dark here, apparently. What is this Bowler’s Bond?”

“Why the Bowler’s Bond is just about one of the biggest wagers a team can make! Comes right from the code in the olden days,” Big Wig explains. “When a captain challenges another captain, they compete for the most important thing to both of them. Their teammates.”

“What?” you ask. “A wager of teammates?”

“That’s right!” she says. “In the Bowler’s Bond, the team who loses must vote off one member, of their team, never to return again. And I know I’m not supposed to play favorites among those in the league, but...” She leans close to you, losing her happy expression before whispering, “I’ll be rooting for you.”

She stands up again with her bright and cheery demeanor. “Oh, a Bowler’s Bond Bet! How exciting!” she says while walking away.

You turn back to Allie who is now nervously biting her lip, looking down, and rubbing the ground with a hoof. Eventually, she slowly looks back up at you.

“Sorry...” she mumbles.

“This is ridiculous!” you shout, throwing your hooves in the air. “Since when did bowling have this complex ancient code about it!?”

"It’s throwing rocks at sticks!” Allie exclaims in response. “An act old as time itself! What made you think it didn’t!?”

“Oh, well, pardon me for not knowing the most intricate details of the sport! Let alone a tradition that hasn’t been done in ages!” you retort.

She opens her mouth to respond, but stops. Putting a hoof over her muzzle in anguish, she lets out a disgruntled sigh. “Alright, alright. Yelling at each other isn’t gonna solve anything.”

“You’re right,” you agree. “We need to do something. Why don’t we just go to Hard Ball and tell him it was a misunderstanding?”

Allie drops her gaze to the floor. “I’m afraid we can’t. Once a bet is established by a Bowler’s Bond, it’s pretty much set in stone. If we back out, it’s considered a loss, so we’ll still have to fulfill our part in the bet.”

You can feel that tension building back up in your stomach again. “Is there any way out of it that doesn’t end up with us having one less teammate?”

“We might need to consult the book about this,” Allie says calmly.

“The book?” you ask.

“Yes,” she says as she begins to trot in the other direction. “The Bowler’s Bond is kind of a sacred thing. So much so that there is actually a full ruleset established for it.”

You begin to trot after her. “So somepony actually wrote a book on it?”

“I know, it sounds silly. But when the foundation of an entire team is at risk, it helps to have everything written down for somepony to read up on, right?” she says.

You give her a shrug in agreement. Taking care to avoid the other ponies in the alley, she leads you to a door at the far end of the building. A “Staff Only” sign hangs on the door and it has a noticeably dull color to it, unlike most of the other decor of the building. Pulling out a ring of keys from her pocket, Allie sifts through them until she lands on one that shares the same gray color of the door.

Placing it into the lock and turning it, the door opens with a slight squeak. She quickly trots inside and flicks on the lights. Within the confines of the room is an assortment of different crates and random bowling gear. Shoes, pins, balls, cleaning utensils, and more litter the room. The lights overhead hang from thin wires and flicker occasionally, standing as testament to their lack of use.

Making your way over all of the random objects, you follow Allie to the back. She scans her eyes over the labels on every crate in her search. It doesn’t take her too long before her gaze settles on a smaller box near the back. On the box is a small paper that reads “books.” She quickly trots over to it and cracks the lid off with her magic. Reaching into the box, she begins to root through the contents. She levitates out all of the books that are not her current bounty, including the likes of ball control guides, manuals for lane equipment, and other similar texts.

“Ah!” she suddenly exclaims. “Here it is!”

Retracting her head from the box, she holds a small brown book in her hooves. On the cover is a golden ball with pins on either side. She lifts the book to her muzzle and blows a stream of air onto it, expelling the dust right into your snout. Coughing into your hoof several times, you cast an annoyed glance to Allie, who just gives you a sheepish smile in return.

She sets the book into her hooves and pushes back the cover, which opens with a distinct crack. “This guide has everything you need to know about the Bowler’s Bond...”

“Okay, so what are our options that don’t involve losing a teammate?” you ask.

Allie skims through the pages, quietly murmuring the contents of each section to herself. She stops flipping after only a few seconds. “Only two,” Allie claims. “One, both captains agree to cancel the challenge, which I can’t see Hard Ball doing. That stallion is about a stubborn as a toddler. Or two, we win the bet.”

You stare at the mare in disbelief for a few moments. A barrage of thoughts go through your head. Many of them are schemes to slip out of the bet, yet none of them seem feasible. Other thoughts include what the reactions of Treble and Sea Swirl might be when you inevitably have to tell them. And a few more thoughts depict just how screwed you might be.

“They’re going to vote me off...” you say in a groan. “Treble hates me and Sea Swirl always sides with him... I’m as good as gone.”

"Whoa whoa whoa,” Allie says, holding up her hooves. “Even if they did vote for you, you and I vote for Treble and then it’s tied.”

“And what does a tie vote say for the Bowler’s Bond?” you ask.

“In the event of a tie, then the captain of the team...” she begins, but trails off.

“Gets to choose?” you ask, a little hope restored.

“...has to leave,” she finishes nervously through her teeth. “For failure to keep unity and allowing such a divide among the team.” The lift in your spirits her words provided now made them drop and somehow burrow lower than before.

You slowly suck air in through your teeth at this news. The lift in your spirits her words provided now made them drop and somehow burrow lower than before.

“But Treble wouldn’t allow that. If he wants to vote you off, it means he wants to win. I’m the best they’ve got and even though we don’t get along all the time, he wouldn’t let me get dropped.”

“If he’s under fire, he’ll just call your bluff anyway. Should we vote for Sea Swirl instead?”

“Wait, if we vote Treble, and then vote Sea Swirl... Wait a minute!” she suddenly exclaims. “Why are we thinking about this as if we’re definitely going to lose?”

“Because they’re ranked so much higher than us?” you suggest.

“Details, details,” she says with a wave of her hoof she closes the book and tosses it back into the box with her magic. It kicks up another good portion of dust, thankfully away from you this time. You follow her out of the room and she turns off the lights behind you. Closing and locking the door again, she begins walking to the posted scores of the league next to the front counter.

“Okay, let’s see...” she says, scanning up and down the page. “Here’s us and our averages,” she points out with her hoof. “And here’s them and their averages.” She reaches quite a bit higher to show it.

Her eyes flick between the two lists of names, but you can’t focus on it due to a growing sense of dread. You never liked looking at listed scores, averages, or even your own scorecards. You had come to terms with your subpar bowling ability long ago and just enjoyed having an excuse to see a bunch of ponies you could call your friends.

“Hmm...” she lets out in a loud thoughtful hum. “Well, I definitely beat Hard Ball,” she says. This was no secret. Everypony who was a regular knew that for all of Hard Ball’s gloating, Allie easily trumped him.

“Okay, one of ours can beat one of theirs, but that doesn’t help when there are three more members,” you say.

“Actually, it does,” she responds. “With the difference between me and Hard Ball, then Treble actually beats their second best. And there’s enough leftover to give Sea Swirl a serious advantage. That just leaves...” She slowly turns to you.

“...We’re so screwed,” you say, dropping your head.

“Hey, not yet we’re not,” she says. “Look, we have two weeks. Don’t stress about it for now.”

“Don’t stress about it!?”

“For now.” She looks to the pile of scorecards on the counter and looks up at the clock. With a sigh she says, “Look, I’m afraid I have to enter in today’s scores. I think I’ve put that off long enough.” You nod in response. “Go home for now. Let it go. I’ll think of something.”

Breathing in a deep breath and slowly releasing it, you say, “Okay. I hope you come up with something, Allie, because if it comes down to me then we lose.”

“Don’t talk like that,” she says, giving your shoulder a nudge with her hoof. “Like I said, just let it go for now. See you later?” she asks with a smile.

“Yeah. Later,” you say before turning around. You can hear Allie stack the scorecards and straighten them by tapping the pile on the desk as you walk away.

Opening the door causes you to get immediately hit with the warm weather. The sun just above the horizon indicates that it must be getting close to the end of the day. You figure it’d be best just to get home and fix something for dinner. You don’t feel like doing too much else at the moment. Walking away from the bowling alley, you just head down the path for home.

Allie said she’d think of something. What could she possibly come up with to help?

~*~*~

I...I’m not getting it, you think to yourself. How does a hoof even do that?

Upon arriving home about an hour ago, you quickly to your bookshelves and bust out the old guide on bowling stances. Just like the last time you read it, it doesn't offer too much help. You can’t quite wrap your head around what it asks of you to do with your hooves. Twist them back while you shuffle forward and just...what? It still makes no sense!

Sighing for the umpteenth time today, you set the book down and rub your temples. It’s been...an eventful day, to say the least. Ever since your chat with Allie, you've been a bit on edge about the situation you find yourself in. Just what would you do if you lose the bet? You can’t imagine the disappoint you would face from Allie. Not to mention Treble and Sea Swirl.

Still, you have a bit of faith. Allie said that she would come up with something. Though she can be a bit scatterbrained, you know that she wouldn't let you down. She is your team’s leader for a reason, after all. You just wonder what she will have in store for you the next time you meet.

You lean back into your couch and cast a glance to the clock. It’s just a few minutes till 11:00 PM. The mere sight of the time seems to spur a yawn in you as you involuntarily open your mouth. You figure you might as well get some sleep. Shaking your head, you slide off of the couch and onto your hooves. Turning to the hallway, you begin to make the trek to your bedroom.

Fssshhhwwooooooop!

A noise from behind catches your attention. Turning around, you find a small scroll wrapped in a blue ribbon resting on the desk near your window. Strange, you think to yourself. Who would send me a letter at this hour?

Walking over, you pick up the scroll. Bringing it up to your muzzle, you carefully remove the ribbon with your teeth before unrolling it to read.

You look at the clock again as if maybe you traveled backwards in time without realizing. Nope, it’s still way past when the bowling alley closed for the day. Looking back to the letter again, you confirm that the near-catscratch is definitely Allie’s writing. Every time you see it you can’t help but wonder how a unicorn can’t write more neatly.

Letting a puff of air escape your lips, you ponder what you should do. On the one hoof, it’s late and there’s no way that the place would be open. On the other, it’s definitely Allie who sent you the message. Maybe something in the magical delivery caused it to be delayed like crazy? Possible, but you don’t want to risk blowing her off if she does want you to go there now. It’s decided then, you’ll go.

You put a hoof to the window to check the weather outside and see if you need a light jacket or something. The cool, but not frigid pane tells you that it is a warm night and you should be fine. Then you look out into the dark streets you’ll be treading and decide to cover yourself in something anyway. A light silver windbreaker will do.

Slipping it on as you walk, you close the door to your house behind you. Looking around, you realize that the town can be a little creepy when it’s dark. A small amount of anxiety begins to build in your chest as the sounds of crickets and the occasional owl is all that you can hear. Amazing how you can become so familiar with the day’s normal hustle and bustle.

You tell yourself you shouldn’t be afraid. Only small foals were afraid of the dark. There’s nothing to worry about, and you shouldn’t keep Allie waiting. Forcing one hoof in front of the other, you begin your now not-so-familiar trek down the path.

A light breeze flows through the area, rustling your mane gently. A few clouds lazily drift through the night sky, but it is still quite clear for the most part. The same could be said for the streets as well. Not a single pony is in sight. All of the surrounding houses are pitch black through the windows as well.

The more you think on it, the more it seems like that letter was just a screw up in the system. There’s no way Allie would be out at this time of night, let alone at the alleyway. Even more so seeing that it’s long past closing time. Yet that doesn’t explain why you are still heading that way...just some strange curiosity, you suppose.

After only a few minutes of trotting through an empty Ponyville, you find the alleyway coming into view. You squint your eyes to get a little better view in the darkness, but you can’t make out the figure of the cream-colored mare anywhere. The alley itself also seems to be rather dim as well. You begin to question the validity of that letter again, feeling as though it was just a mistake.

Despite that feeling, you trot up to the door. Peeking in through the windows, you see that there actually is a very faint light coming from the inside. With a new sense of curiosity taking over you, you jiggle on the door handle, only for it to deny you access via its locks. Raising an eyebrow, you figure the next (and only) course of action would be to knock. Rapping your hoof on the door a few times, you keep your eyes focused through the window.

After a few seconds, you see a figure. Though it is obscured by the darkness, you can still make out who it is after squinting for a moment.

“Allie?” you say aloud to yourself.

Sure enough, walking up to the door you start to see recognizable features. The icy blue mane, the smooth purple shirt, and the confident smirk. As soon as she’s within reach of the door, she holds out a hoof and pushes it open.

“Hey, you made it!” she says. “Come on in! Sorry for making you wait, but our security doesn’t exactly like ponies trying to magic our doors after hours.”

“I see,” you respond as you walk in. She lets go of the door and it closes slowly as the two of you begin to walk down to the far lane. The bowling alley looks a lot different with most of its lights off. The carpet and wall designs are not as inviting as you remember them. The balls on the rack don’t shine to entice potential bowlers. The air around you actually feels cold enough to be unsettling. Unfamiliar shadows are cast every which way giving the entire place a sort of disorientating feeling. The only reason that you’re still somewhat comfortable here is because Allie is with you. Speaking of...

“So why did you make me come here this late at night?” you ask.

“Because...” she begins as you reach the lane. You’re glad to finally get near the current source of all light in the building. She turns to you and continues, “I have a plan to beat Hard Ball.”

“You do?” you ask excitedly.

“Yep! It’s real simple.” She uses her magic to lift up a pair of bowling shoes in your size in front of you. “We just use the two weeks to train you up into a bowling machine!” she says happily.

You feel heart drop down into your hooves.

“But... I suck at bowling, remember? We had nearly half a season and I haven’t gotten any better,” you explain.

“Well that changes now!” she says, tossing the shoes at you and making you scramble to catch them. “I’ll personally teach you and we’ll have you knocking pins down left and right. And center. And the ones in the back.” She reaches over and puts her hooves on your shoulders, the bowling alley’s new lighting making her seem to glow with determination. “You will knock down all the pins is what I’m saying.”

You roll your eyes. “Good luck with that,” you say.

Trying to turn away, you feel that Allie has hardened her grip, holding you in place. Looking back to her, she now has a stern look on her face.

“Didn’t I tell you not to be so hard on yourself?” she asks. You open your mouth to respond, but she beats you to it. “Look, this isn’t about that silly bet. Forget about Hard Ball and that whole ordeal for tonight, okay? Right now, I want this to be just you, me, and those ten pins down that lane.” She quickly waves a hoof down the track towards the pins before bringing her attention back to you. “If not for that bet, could you at least try for yourself? And for me?”

Your gaze flicks back and forth between her eyes. She is dead serious about helping you improve. Her grip on your shoulders doesn’t budge in the slightest as she waits for a reply. Seeing as she did call you out here this late at night, would it be fair to deny her this request? She just wants to help you, after all. You at least owe it to her to give this a shot, even if your efforts turn out all for naught.

Not to mention that puppy dog pout she’s making. Celestia have mercy on the soul who could resist a face like that.

With a sigh, you speak. “Okay.”

Her face lights up almost enough to brighten the otherwise dark alley. She takes her hooves off of your shoulders and quickly makes her way over to a switch between the seats. She flicks the switch and you watch as the bowling lane is illuminated by the lights overhead. You quickly slide your shoes on and go over to join Allie.

As the pins are set back down onto the track by the machinery, Allie speaks. “Okay, first things first. I want to just watch you bowl first and we can work from there.” She points to the orange ball resting on the rack. “I got it all shined up and ready to go, so hop to it!”

Walking up to the ball, you notice that it’s the same one you were using this morning. Picking it up, you walk up to the line, still a bit unsure about the few clinks and whirs you still hear from the alley’s machinery. Turning back to Allie, she just gives you another smile, a nod, and points towards the pins.

Taking another breath, you stand yourself up straight. Staring down the light of the lane finally gives you a sense of familiarity. It’s almost just like you were bowling earlier today. You remember how Allie would bowl and run through in your head again. You take your first step...

One, two, three... fourFIVE-

A hard last step hurls the ball out of your hoof and down the lane. It quickly goes left into the gutter and nearly bounces in the other lane altogether. With a loud THUMP it hits the back of the lane and a few more whumps and rattles sends it through the ball returner.

You look back to Allie who is now sporting a stone-like poker face. “Okay, let’s start with what you did right,” she says plainly. “Your stance at the beginning was good. Very nice. Looked very confident.”

“And then...?” you ask.

She bites her lip and starts slowly shaking her head.

“We have our work cut out for us.”

Chapter Three

You breathe out a yawn into your hoof as you prepare to lift the next crate. Releasing a grunt, you’re able to bring it up onto your back and stand with all four legs. Considering the weight of these boxes, you swear that almost all of these ponies today are shipping dumbbells. With strained steps, you’re able to get to the wagon before being faced with the challenge of getting it on there. After another, much longer grunt, you stand on the tips of your hooves to carefully slide it off your back and into the wagon bed where you can push it to a better spot.

“Come on, buddy. You draggin’ flank or what?” says the gritty voice of your manager. You look up to his stern face, his furrowed brow and the frown underneath the stubble he’s somehow able to sport over fur. The look is betrayed somewhat by his soft blue eyes.

“Sorry, Boxey. Sir,” you say, standing straight up in an effort to look more awake. “I was up late last night. Didn’t get enough sleep.”

“And just what were you doin’ last night?” he asks.

“...Bowling,” you say.

“Bowlin’? The alley closes at 8. Where’d you find late night bowlin’ and why?” he asks.

“Long story,” you reply instinctively, not feeling like explaining your Bowler’s Bet or whatever it was to anypony who didn’t need to know.

“Well, alright. But we’ve gotta get these boxes loaded up and ready to go to Appleoosa on the next train, so we need some hustle!” he says.

“Yes sir,” you reply, lazily lifting a hoof into a salute. He responds with a look somewhere between doubt and concern, but makes no further comments and takes his leave.

The moment he is out of sight and the door shuts behind him, you drop your hoof to the floor with a haggard sigh. For a moment, there was a fleeting moment of hope that he would send you home for the day or something. Of course, you know that’s completely wishful thinking. The wishful thoughts continue as you pray for the day to end sooner, having gotten little sleep last night after your session. You've been running ragged for a good portion of the day.

You just hope it will all pay off in the long run. You've been making a little bit of headway under the guidance of Allie. Your performance is still nothing spectacular. Even a foal would scoff at the scores you manage to hit with your bowling. But hey, a bad score is better than no score, right?

Still, Allie sure seems confident in your skills. Even through the occasional cringing expression you caught her sporting on her face after your rolls, you could see a glimmer of hope within her eyes. Not to mention that she never scolded you so much as she critiqued you with your bowling. Positive criticism, at that. She’s nothing if not optimistic, and by Celestia does your performance need a bit of that.

You shake your head lightly. Save the bowling mindset for later. Right now, you need to get these crates all packed up before Boxey unleashes his wrath upon you. You turn back to the loading dock to grab another. As your weary eyes settle upon the boxes, you find yourself yawning again. You could almost take a nap on them in your current state, splinters and back pains be damned!

You push both the rebellious thoughts out of your head and the current crate onto the wagon, getting up to slide it to the back. Looking around, you guess that you still have another half-dozen or so crates to load, at least. A frustrated groan gurgles in the back of your throat as you hop off the wagon and back into the warehouse for another crate.

Steeling your resolve, you get ready to just get this current project done, tiredness and dragging flanks aside. Taking another, you hoist it up with gusto and take it to the wagon with a jogging pace, but still careful as to not rattle around the crate’s contents. Lifting up and a slide puts it in place on the wagon.

Then you catch your breath, realizing that there’s no way you’d be keeping up that pace. It’s going to be a long one...

~*~*~

Opening the door, you collapse on the couch to rest your aching limbs. After the wagon to Appleoosa, there were three more wagons to load up. Sure, the money was decent and the labor was probably good for your body, but at this very moment you regret your choice of employment.

Are you hungry? You don’t even know; the thought of moving to the kitchen and making something makes your hooves call out ‘Haha, how about doing that later?’ And later it shall be.

Instead, you happily opt to lazily shift yourself around until you’re laying on your back, staring up at the ceiling. Slinging a hoof over your stomach, you take a few moments to simply catch your breath. You haven’t had a single break all day, so you relish in this one moment of solitude you get to have before your session later tonight.

You actually contemplated asking Allie if you could reschedule or something. Anything that would allow you a bit of extra rest after having had consecutive sessions with her. For all you know, these practices could end up doing more harm than good! But with how stubborn she can be, you’re not sure if she’d allow such a “lazy-colt” attitude.

You’ve bounced the idea of asking around in your head for some time. Unable to predict her possible reaction, you simply sigh and lift your hooves, propping your head on them. Perhaps you could just write her a letter or something. It’d spare you the issue of having to deal with it face to fa-

*knock knock*

Your eyes shoot open at the intruding noise coming from the front door. You lift your hooves over your eyes as your head leans back, a murmur of angst escaping your lips all the while. As your head hits its apex, you open your eyes and plop your hooves down to your sides as they land on the cushion with a quiet thump. The one day you don’t want any company, of course. Right.

Slowly scooting off the sofa, you land on your hooves and drudge your way to the front door. Whoever it is, you hope that the visit is short. You were in the middle of something, that is to say nothing, and you wanted to get back to it.

Twisting the knob with a hoof, you repeat to yourself one last time the wish to make this visit as quick and painless as possib-

“YOU.”

You hear the accusation before you’ve even opened up the door all the way. On the other side is Treble, his scowl much deeper than usual. His less than friendly greeting gives you a feeling of fear and resentment.

“What is it, Treble?” you ask.

“What’s this I hear about a bet with Hardball’s team!?” he asks. “And that if we lose, one of us gets banned from the bowling alley!?”

Oh right, he’s involved in that, too. Considering you only see him on a weekly basis, you hoped to be able to put off mentioning to him.

You give a little nervous chuckle. “Yeah, uh... how’d you hear about that?”

“I was in the bowling alley today,” he begins. “I was there to buy some of their ball-wiping rags for my bandmates and I heard somepony mention it.”

“What do they need rags from the bowling alley for?” you ask.

“I found it’s really good for cleaning my bass with,” he says. “It’s not too thick, but holds moisture really well without just pushing liquid around and my bandmates wanted some.”

“Huh. So who happened to mention it?” you ask.

“I don’t know. Figured I heard them wrong at first, but then I heard it again. And again.” His gaze locks onto you. “Different groups of ponies, spreading the word all around. It’s all they’re talking about there! This ‘Bowler’s Bond’ crap?” he says.

“Yeah, that...” you say as your hoof finds its way to the back of your neck. “Look, it’s not like we instigated it or anything.”

Treble gives you a look that seems to be a mixture of confusion and pure frustration. “What the heck does that mean? Did the bet just walk up and shove itself into your face or something!? Let alone a bet that could cost one of us our bowling career!?”

“Look, it’s hard to explain, alright?” you say defensively. How exactly do you explain how Allie caused the bet out of a lack of attention? “For one reason or another, we’re in this bet. It really can’t be helped!”

“Oh, yeah, that’s great. Just fantastic!” the stallion responds, tossing his hooves into the air and shaking his head. “Great hearing that it’s hopeless from the dead weight of the team!”

Your mouth drops slightly at that. “Hey! I didn’t ask for it to happen! And insulting me isn’t going to change anything!” you lift your head up slightly, lowering your eyes to meet his. “And as a matter of fact, I’m actually getting better.”

He ceases shaking his head for a moment to give you a questionable glare. “Oh, really now? Can you actually, you know, hit the pins?”

“I’ll have you know that I can!” Not all of them, but... “All my recent practice hasn’t gone anywhere!”

“Recent practice?” he asks, surprise replacing the ire in his voice.

“Yep! I’ve been getting some one-on-one practice with Allie herself!” you say, sticking your chest out a bit with a hint of pride. “She’s really been helping me.”

“The two of you during the day or something?” he asks.

“Actually, she’s too busy during the day managing the place,” you explain. “So she keeps a lane open at night so it’s just us.”

You think you see a smirk begin to grow on Treble’s face. “So what are these practice sessions like?” he asks.

“Pretty intense. She really pushes me hard,” you say.

“So is it just about the bowling or do the two of you perhaps, I don’t know, talk about other things?”

“It’s just bowling, bowling, bowling. Tips, techniques, what have you. Little time to discuss anything else.” As soon as it came, the smirk on his face vanishes. “Did you want to join us?”

“No no no, I’ve got other things to do during the night,” he says.

“Like what?”

“Sleeping,” he responds. “You’ve got some serious bags under your eyes going.”

You give a sigh. “Yeah, I haven’t gotten much sleep lately...” you grumble. “But hopefully it’ll pay off.”

He clicks his tongue. “I’d hope so, for your sake. ‘Cause if we lose, it ain’t gonna be me walking out of that alley!”

You hold up a hoof defensively. “I promise you, none of us are going to be kicked out. We’re going to win and gives those punks what’s coming to them!” You put on a smile in assurance, despite it betraying the shaky confidence within you.

He eyes you warily for a moment before letting out a silent sigh. “Guess I’ll leave it to ya, then. Keep up the...whatever it is you’re doing at the alley.”

You chuckle slightly before pulling your hoof into a lazy salute. “Sir, yes sir.”

The motion manages to elicit a roll of the eyes from the stallion. Either way, he turns around and begins to trot off towards the town, leaving you alone. You calmly close the door, and then immediately turn and slump to the ground, your weary legs finally getting the better of you.

You shake your head as you yawn. Not only is the sleep deprivation getting to you, but now you’ve got Treble’s ever-judging eye on you, too. Great, just what you needed. More pressure.

Pressing a hoof to your forehead, you try to clear your thoughts. You and Allie have been making some progress, but it’s nothing you can call spectacular. Considering the allotted time you have left, you conclude that you might want to step it up for the next few sessions.

Of course, that’s for later this evening. Right now, that couch over there has never looked more alluring...

~*~*~

A couple of pins clatter against the back of the lane. Pumping a hoof in the air victoriously, you turn back to Allie who marks your score. The couch nap you had earlier was just what you needed to get you fired up for practice tonight.

“Well, well, well! You’ve managed to hit pins four times in a row!” she says excitedly.

You give a little chuckle. “It’s still a little miracle whenever I can hit them.”

“Don’t say that. You’re really improving,” she says. It’s definitely true, it’s only been a couple nights under the coaching of Allie Way and your score has been going up rather steadily. “See? You’ve already managed to beat your highest league score in only six frames!” She uses her magic to float the scorecard in front of you. Sure enough, it has the markings of what’s surely your best game ever.

You shrug at it, though. “Still, my score’s not that impressive. I mean, compared to you or even Treble and Sea Swirl.”

“We don’t care about their scores right now. Or my score. All we care about is your score, and it is going up!” she exclaims.

“Heh, by tiny increments at that.” you remark.

“And that’s still improvement, nonetheless!” she says with a smile. It turns out to be infectious and you can’t help but smile along with her. She then stands up and trots over to your side. “Alright, toss another one. And this time, try to angle your hips to the left just a teeeeensy bit more!”

You give her a nod in confirmation and head over to the ballrack. Almost as if on cue, your ball rolls into the rack, ready for use. You lift it into your hooves and step up to the beginning of the lane. The pins stand at the end, awaiting your toss. Staring down the lane, you take a deep breath as you always do before making your play. You begin to take your steps.

One, two, three...

You count as you move forward, making sure to not overstep or understep your mark. As you grow closer, you keep Allie’s most recent suggestion in mind, subconsciously moving your hips further to your side. The change is slight, but enough for you to feel the difference.

Four, five...

With a final step and one last adjustment on your hips...

Six!

You let the ball loose. It lands upon the track with a graceful THUNK! As it grows closer to its mark, the ball slowly begins to drift a bit more to its left. You begin to grow a bit more uneasy, hoping that you didn’t over-adjust your hips at the last second or something. However, it doesn’t come close to the gutter and takes out a sizable chunk of the pins with a ceremonious crash.

“WOOHOO!” Allie cheers, her cry echoing through the entire alley. “Now if we can get you doing THAT every time, we’re in business!”

“I was afraid I put too much in the hips for a second there,” you say.

“You can never put too much in the hips!” Allie says, throwing a hoof up into the air for emphasis. Eventually, the hoof comes slowly back down to the desk as she says, “And by that I mean... you can totally put too much in the hips; I just got excited.” Her happy demeanor is instantly back as she continues, “But! The hips are important!”

“Yeah, but I can’t seem to get them right, no matter how many times you tell me how...” you say. Then an idea pops into your head. “Hey Allie, do you think you can just show me how?”

“What?” she asks.

“You’ve shown me how to throw, how to stand, and how to victory dance,” you say, the last part with a little chuckle. “But you haven’t shown me this. Just get up, do a follow through slowly, and let me watch your hips,” you explain.

“I, um... okay,” she says as she gets up from her seat.

As she makes her way towards the ball rack, you rotate around her, effectively trading places. Taking her seat, you watch as she retrieves her usual ball, bringing it to her chest. She steps over to the lane, lining herself up with the pins.

She casts a glance or two back to your direction as she shuffles her hooves around, getting her positioning just right. You keep your vision glued to her hooves, taking note of their locations in regards to the score marks on the floor. You can’t help but notice the toned stature of her legs as you watch her get into position. You pass your gaze over her body, noting her pose and form. You bring your eyes up to meet hers just in time to see her speak.

“Okay, so, hips...” she starts, readjusting the ball in her foreleg. “Essentially, you want to keep them mostly straight as you go.”

She begins taking steps towards the lane. As she moves, you bring your eyes back, right to her Cutie Mark. Her backside stays completely straight as she slowly walks forward, her hips barely gyrating with each movement of her long legs. The sound of her hooves plodding on the floor planks is the only sound filling the air for a brief moment.

“Once you get about halfway,” she speaks up. “That’s about when you start to lower your ball, so you’ll start angling your hips then, too.”

She slowly begins to lower her ball to her side. As she does, you notice that her hips slowly begin to shift to the left. It’s very slight, but when it comes to bowling, every adjustment makes a difference. Her flank begins to gradual move outward, and her legs follow suit. Her body begins to stretch out as her backside moves.

“And when you finally get to the end of the walk...” she then brings her hoof forward. As she does so, her back swings out to her left greatly. As her backside makes its move, her right hind leg ascends. As her hind hoof hangs suspended in the air, her foreleg swings outward. The ball remains in her hoof as she pauses in this final pose for a few moments, allowing you to observe.

“Aaand that’s all there is to it,” she concludes. You notice a faint hint of red on her cheeks.

“Are you okay?” you ask. Her blush and lack of emotion in her explanation concerns you a bit. She’s normally as happy as can be when passing on her bowling expertise.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she says with a little giggle, joy starting to come back into her voice. “It’s just I’ve never done an instruction basically inviting somepony to stare at my backside.” As her words reach your ears, you feel a little warmth come to your cheeks as well. “So, you ready for a demonstration at full speed?” she asks.

“Yep!” you say with a little nod of your head. She takes her position again as you watch her hindlegs again, trying not to take in anymore detail than necessary. As she stands up ready to throw, you observe those toned yet slender legs, standing strong and proud all the way to her nicely rounded cutie mark.

“You’ve got some nice flanks, though.”

THUMP rrrrrclunk vvvvvvhh clu-CLUNK.

Both of your hooves are planted firmly over your mouth as Allie glares back at you, both of your faces glowing red.

This was the second time you’ve ever seen Allie throw a gutterball.

“I-I- that,” you stammer helplessly. “I mean that- you- uhh....”

“What-What did you just...” she starts, her eyes widening in what you can only assume is fury. “...What?”

“I-I didn’t mean- I mean, I DID mean, but- NO! I-”

“You were supposed to be watching me to get the motions!” she barks. “Not to ogle at my...mmmph!” she lifts her head up towards the ceiling, obscuring her features from your view. In response, your stomach sinks like a rock.

“A-Allie, I was!” you say defensively as your hoof moves to the back of your neck. “I did get the motions! The hips swinging, the legs, the fla- the steps, everything! I swear, I wasn’t just doing that to get a glimpse at...I-It wasn’t that! I just, I...Uh...”

Your words trail off as Allie brings her head back down to meet your eyes. The look on her face nearly causes your stomach to twist. That smile she wears is a complete one-eighty to the anger she had moments ago. Even then, it sent an unsettling vibe down your spine.

“Uh...Allie?”

“I’ve got an idea on how I can teach you.” she says. Her eyelids slowly descend into a squint as her smile widens slightly.

You feel your own eyes widen in response. “O-Oh? You do?”

“Come on. Get your ball. Now.” she commands, spouting words rapidly.

You’re not entirely certain if it’s out of fear or politeness, but you waste no time in pulling yourself over to the ball rack.

Allie presses the little reset button on the ball return for a fresh frame, bringing the mechanical arm down to sweep in all the pins you caused her to miss. The clicks and clacks of the pins getting knocked back echo through the building, almost like a dry, mirthful chortle.

You hear the grinding of the motors as a new set of pins comes down, giving an almost spectral like glow of white from the lane lights. They rock back and forth among themselves, like a crowd of ponies about to witness some unfortunate event. There is one final low buzz before it all goes silent.

“Take your position...” Allie says, her voice ripe with the tone of glee and your impending doom.

“A-Allie, I-”

“Take... your position,” she repeats, cutting you off.

You swallow as your throat begins to feel rather parched. Lining your hooves up with the marks on the ground, you try to calm yourself as you stand up straight, ball to your chest, as if ready to throw.

“Now then, I’m sure that you’ll remember your hip positions after this,” she hisses into your ear. “Are you ready?”

Shakily, you nod to confirm. A couple hoofsteps tell you that she’s moved behind you. You cannot see her, nor do you have the will to turn your head back to look at what she may be doing.

After a few long, silent moments, the fur on the back of your neck beginning to rise, you feel something come down on either side of your flanks.

“GAH!” you shout involuntarily. You look back to find Allie gripping your backside. Quite forcefully at that. “A-Allie!? What the-”

“Oh, relax, relax!” she commands. “I’m just showing you how to swing your hips, it’s no big deal!” The smile on her face detests what should be an incredibly awkward situation for her. Even more awkward than it already was.

“I-I think I can manage it on my own!” you say a bit more forcefully than you would have liked. “I just need a few tries!”

“Sure, you could do that. Or you could just let me demonstrate like this so you can get it in one go!” she offers. “I show you how to do it manually, and then you can try it for yourself.”

“B-But I- you could- just-” you babble aimlessly. Even with just a single sentence to explain it, she was right. It would be about the best way to show the motion to you, awkward or not. “...Ugh, alright.” you resign. “Just, please, warn me the next time you’re going to do that!”

She giggles for a brief moment before responding. “Don’t worry, I will. And hey, you know I wouldn’t have grabbed your butt if it wasn’t for a good cause, right?”

You turn your head slowly with a half-lidded glare plastered on your face. It only elicits more giggles from the mare behind you. The urge to fight rolling your eyes quickly escapes you as they go full circle.

“Just go ahead with your first step and I’ll position your hips accordingly as we go through,” she says.

With a sigh, you stand tall towards the pins, trying to ignore the hooves on your behind. You take your first step and wait for Allie to move your hips, but she doesn’t.

“You want to keep it straight one your first step, as you know. You’ll begin your swing on the next one.”

You slowly take another step and Allie starts shifting you to the side. With another step, Allie brings your back half to an almost 45 degree angle with the lane.

“Isn’t this a bit far?” you ask.

“Trust me, your follow-through will have a lot more force like this.”

“Okay...” you say, as you take another step. Allie’s hooves guide your backend the other direction this time. With your final step, the one you would’ve thrown on, she brings you into your normal position.

“And that’s how you do it!” she says cheerfully.

“Great. Thanks. Can you let go of my butt now?” you ask.

“Fine...” she groans, taking her hooves back. She walks back behind the desk as you retake your position a few steps before the lane. “But you know what?” she begins to ask.

“What?” you say, a little annoyance still in your voice.

Allie giggles. “You’ve got some nice flanks.”

Chapter Four

‘Oooh...’

Your eyes go over the pictures of the screens taken from the newest upcoming games about to hit the shelves. For being only still images, they seem to still capture all the flashiness of the action and make your hooves itch to play them. Compelling narratives told through interactive media and gameplay to entertain for hours, even against other ponies in different parts of the world!

But these aren’t exactly in your budget. Besides, you get plenty of mileage from your current collection, boasting a whole… four titles. They were still entertaining, but sometimes you wish for something new. The closest you get are these gaming magazines, trumpeting new releases as well as showing exclusive information about games already out with new tips, tricks, and strategies. If you could ever get your hooves on some of these games, you’d be so ready.

Flipping the page, you get ready to read about the next newest release coming out. A game starring the mysterious Mare-Do-Well, whose game reputation you remember being shaky at best. At least from what you’ve heard. You give the newest title a read to see if it has potential when it hits the review section later in the magazine.

It seems to be your standard Action-Adventure game, much like its predecessors. Stylized graphics, beat-em-up segments, stealth elements, all the works. Given the arduous fighting segments that other titles starring the mysterious hero sported (at least, according to reviews), you wonder if they patched those up and made them a bit more enjoyable. If so, perhaps the game wields some promise. Maybe it will be-

*gurrrroooaaaag*

Your reading is interrupted by a sound akin to a whale after a lobotomy. You look down to the source of the noise to find your belly, rumbling and grumbling. The noise poses a good question; how long has it been since you ate? Yesterday, was it? You don’t really remember.

Whatever the case may be, hunger takes over you. Setting the magazine down and hopping off the couch, you swiftly move into the kitchen. You slide over to the pantry, crack it open and look inside. What you find is a less than fulfilling sight. A few cans of tomato paste, an empty, overturned cereal box, and a half-empty bag of potato chips. The sight poses another good question; how long has it been since you went grocery shopping?

As your stomach voices its disapproval, you let out a sigh. Pushing the pantry door shut, you make a mental checklist of the items you need, which comes to a simple “pretty much everything.” You turn and trot out of the kitchen and grab your saddlebags near the door. After hoisting the bags over your sides you push your door open, squinting your eyes as the sun bombards your retinas without warning.

That damn brightness, you can never prepare for it. Did the princess just decide to turn it up recently or does your messed up sleep schedule just make it seem this harsh? This conundrum poses one more good question: when’s the last time you got a decent night’s rest?

The answer to that being obvious, since before the mess with Hard Ball had started. Allie has really been running you ragged to the point that you’re afraid you may just lose due to sheer exhaustion. But of course, Allie is just full of her usual peppiness every time you see her. Smiles and giggles, all day and night. Come to think of it, you don’t think you’ve even seen her yawn during any of your practice sessions.

As you get into the main market square of town, the activity of ponies around you make you forget your lack of sleep for a while. Looking around at various stalls, you decide the hay stand would be a good first visit. Cheap, plentiful, and useful in a lot of different recipes. Hay burgers, hay fries, shaykes, hay dogs, hay soup, roast hay, hay nuggets, rolls in the hay, hay flambe, and haycon. Is there anything hay can’t do?

You approach the stand with a brown stallion standing in front of the wagon full of the golden straws. They smile as they see you trot up.

“Hey there!” you greet them.

“That’s right. How much you want?” they ask.

You pull some bits out of your saddlebag. “How much can this get me?” you ask, placing five bits on the counter.

They eye the number of golden coins before turning back to their product. You hear some shuffling of the hay as he ties up some in a bundle. He puts up two bundles the size of your foreleg and pushes them towards you.

“Here you go!” he says as he slides the bits into his hoof.

You stare at the two amounts of hay in front of you. “That’s it?”

“Sorry. Drought has really cut into our harvest,” they reply. “We’ve put in complaints, but apparently the pegasuses are dealing with a cloud shortage.”

“Oh…” you say. “Well, thank you.” You put the bunches of hay into your saddlebag and continue to your next unplanned location.

You had hoped to get a little more than the meager morsels from the stand, but there’s nothing you can really do about it. You just hope the weather hasn’t cut into the production of the other stands too badly. What else did you need… oh, right. Everything.

You trot over to the next stand in the square, which happens to be the carrot stand. While not your favorite of snacks, you still enjoy carrots on occasion. You reach into your bag and count your bits, determining how many to spend here. As you approach the simple wooden structure, you find a familiar pony patiently waiting on the proprietor of the stand.

“Hey Sea Swirl!” you call out.

The light-purple pony jumps a bit at the mention of her name, swiveling her head around. She seems to sigh lightly under her breath as she sees you. “Oh, hello.” she whispers. If there’s one thing you’ve learned about her, it’s that her volume knob always seems to be set several degrees too low. “What brings you here today?”

You shrug as you close the distance. “Oh, y’know, just a bit of shopping… or a lot.” you add under your breath. “What about you? Just out and about on the town?”

She nods. Before she manages a response, the orange-maned mare behind the stand emerges from behind the cart and places a paper bag on the stand. Sea Swirl takes the bag with a smile and a nod to the mare before turning back to you. “I was just picking up some things for a new dish I wanted to try out, and…” her voice trails off as her face begins to portray concern. “Um… are you okay? You look awfully tired…”

“Oh, don’t worry,” you say, holding back a yawn. “Just haven’t been getting enough sleep is all.”

She raises an eyebrow at your response. “What have you been doing?” she asks.

“Training with Allie at the bowling alley after hours,” you reply.

Her eyebrows go from curiously cocked to rise and surprise. “Cool! Is she helping you get better?” she asks with a small smile.

“Like you wouldn’t believe. My scores has easily doubled in my time with her!” you say raising a hoof in excitement. Slowly the hoof drops back down. “Which still isn’t impressive, but we’ll be sure to beat Hard Ball in that stupid bet next week.”

She giggles a little. “That’s great, I-” Her expression changes again from happy to confused. “Bet with Hard Ball? What bet with Hard Ball?”

Oh. Right. You had yet to have the explain-that-whole-mess-to-her part.

“Nothing, it’s nothing…” you stammer, trying to keep your cool. “Just the bet that if we lose we have to vote off one of our team members. No big deal.”

“NO BIG DEAL!?” she suddenly shrieks in a huge contrast to her usual quiet demeanor.

You wince as your eardrums recover from the sudden spike in volume. A few ponies glance your way as well, her exclamation catching the attention of more than a few passerby. “I-It’s alright, it’s all fine! Really, it’s nothing huge-”

"Voting one of ourselves out?” she says frenetically. “What do you mean by that!?”

“Uh… Well, that’s assuming we lose, which we won’t. But in the hypothetical event that we do, one of us will be voted to... be banished from the bowling alley for good.” you say as your ears drop lower with each word.

Her ears flop in tandem as her face bears an incredulous look. “How is this NOT a huge thing!? Why didn’t I know about this?”

You put up a hoof defensively. “L-Like I said, it’s under control! I’ve been practicing with Allie and getting better, really! We didn’t tell you because it was sort of a recent development, so we’ve been preoccupied with things…” Even you don’t sound convinced by the words you find yourself saying.

“What about Treble? Does he know?” she inquires with that frantic air in her voice.

“Yeah, yeah, I told him about it… or, uh, he interrogated me about it…” You shake your head. “But that’s besides the point! The point is that we ARE going to win, I swear!”

She glance to the ground unsurely before looking back up to you. “I don’t think you’re taking this seriously enough. Hard Ball may be a bit of a blowhard, but his team is really good. Even with Allie on our team, it’s not an easy feat. He’s a close second to her.”

“Not that close,” you say with a little point of your hoof. “She has enough of a lead to potentially give us an edge. Just bring your A-game that day.”

“How can you sound so confident?” she asks.

As you open your mouth to answer, you freeze. You almost didn’t realize what words were coming out of your mouth, but she was right. You sounded as if you didn’t have a care about this bet. As if you already know that you’ve got it in the bag. What’s even weirder is that you actually feel this way as well.

“Probably a mix of sleep deprivation and hanging out with Allie,” you finally reply. “Do you want to join us? Couldn’t hurt to get in some extra practice.”

She taps her chin with a hoof as her gaze drifts toward the ground beside her. Letting out a few non-committal hums, she bites her lip as she fidgets on the spot. Her eyes shift around a bit before she shakes her head with a frown.

“I can’t make it. I’m sorry, but I just can’t,” she says, her ears drooping back even further.

“I understand,” you say in as friendly a tone as you can manage. In all honesty, you’re a little disappointed. If any other one of your teammates could come practice with you and Allie then it would sure to be a big help towards beating Hard Ball.

The mare puts a hoof on her snout and sighs, closing her eyes. She remains silent in thought for a brief moment before speaking. “I… I need to get going. I’ll see you some other time, at our next practice session, or something.” she says half-heartedly as she starts to trot away.

You start to lift a hoof, but set it back on the ground. “Alright, see you then…” you reply despondently. She makes no sign of acknowledging your farewell and just keeps walking.

As she starts to vanish into the crowd, you sigh to yourself. It’s one thing that you and Allie are in the bet, but the fact that you unwillingly dragged your teammates into it as well is a bit of knowledge that sits in your stomach like a rock. Having to drop the news on them like a bombshell certainly doesn’t help the matter. Still, you’re in the bet and you have to see it through, lest you face the consequences of forfeit.

You squeeze your eyes shut for a moment, trying to dispel the exhaustion that grips them. One thing that certainly isn’t going to help the situation is a case of insomnia. You’re going to have to speak with Allie about the whole late-night session thing. At this rate, even if you do manage to become good enough to tackle Hard Ball’s team, you’ll end up passing out in the alley once game day arrives.

You settle on it. You’ll speak with Allie as soon as possible.

“Sooooo… can I help you sir?”

The unfamiliar voice draws your attention back to the stand. The mare manning the stand has an wide, inviting smile and a basket of carrots waiting on the cart, ripe for purchase.

Allie can wait. Food comes first.

~~~~~~

Munching on a carrot, you walk along the path towards the bowling alley. The juicy bold flavor settling quite nicely in your stomach to fight the ravenous hunger from before. Crunching the final bite, you wipe off any excess juice on the back of your hoof before seeing the bowling establishment come into view.

A new strength from your little snack carries you along in a happy trot up to the door. Your mouth turns upward into a smile as you push against the metal handle, entering the alley and taking in all the familiar sights, sounds, and smells that are usually reserved for Saturdays. Making your way down the familiar multi-colored carpet, you approach the front counter to see if you can find Allie.

However, you notice a few of the bowlers casting a quick glance in your direction. They seem to whisper amongst themselves as you pass by. Oh shoot, did you step in something? Is something hanging off your fur? A check over yourself reveals nothing. Probably easier to assume everypony is crazy and just focus on the task at hoof.

You finally turn the corner and the front desk is in view. Allie’s icy blue mane sticks up over the crowd of ponies and you try to make your way to the front. Stepping over the foals trying on bowling shoes and avoiding the parents giving some bowling balls a few test swings, you make it up to see your friend/teammate/coach.

But when you do, you notice that something is off about her. Her usual vivid mane is drooping with stray hairs sticking out here and there. The polo shirt she wears is wrinkled, collar partially popped, and unbuttoned. Her chin rests on her hoof as she has trouble keeping open her eyes with bags hanging under them. When she’s done talking to a customer and giving them a scoresheet, she reaches over to drink from a coffee mug before turning to the next one.

She looks like a mess. You have never seen her like this before.

You purse your lips at the sight of her. Given her shaky appearance, the late-night games might be doing more harm than good in the long run. You move up to the side of the counter and wait until Allie finishes up with the current customer. She fails to notice you, even in such a close proximity.

After she dips her head beneath the counter and hands a pair of bowling shoes to the young colt before her, you speak up. “Hey Allie.”

Her entire body seizes lightly at once as she turns her head towards you. A trace of panic is visible on her face for a split second. It is quickly dispelled as she rubs her eyes with a hoof, turning back to you with an odd smile. “O-OH! Hey, hi! Didn’t expect to see you here so soon!”

You give a half-smile. “Just thought I’d see how you were faring.”

She tilts her head from side to side in a bit of a jerky motion. “Oh, you know… same old grind, right?” she says, punching the cash register to deposit some bits.

As the coins drop in with a series of satisfying clinks, you nod. “Yeah, I suppose… Hey, when you get a sec, can we talk?”

She smiles, though it seems painfully forced. “Yeah, yeah! We can chat right now if you-” She stops mid-sentence as she looks back to the front of the desk. A young couple waiting to be tended to, she silently mouths an apology to you before quickly taking the helm again.

You wave a hoof dismissively as she takes her place back at the register and dons her practiced clerk smile. It isn’t too hard to tell the smile on her face is entirely fake, given the mare’s stature. Her legs seem rigid and her back is oddly arched in a way that, to those unfamiliar with her, would be otherwise imperceptible.

On top of this, the motions of her forelegs seem oddly stiff. Allie normally moves with a sort of fluid lankiness, her hooves normally swinging to and fro between items she needs. At the moment, however, they move about in an almost robotic fashion. Grab bits, deliver shoes and other necessities, punch keys on register, repeat as necessary. An odd mixture of haste and efficiency... almost. She still manages to bump her hooves on the shelves behind her a few times while she deals with a few more customers.

You can safely say that you prefer the friendly, upbeat Allie you see on Saturdays. Still, it’s a little neat seeing her behind the counter for a normal shift. You can still see a little sparkle of enthusiasm in her as she giggles or cracks an occasional pun.

She finishes up with the last customer in line, giving them a scorecard. “Have fun!” she calls out to them as they go to pick their lane. “So, what brings you here?” she asks, turning towards you.

“I just wanted to stop by and ask something,” you say. “You know, about our late night practice-”

“AUP BUP BUP SHHH!” she suddenly exclaims. Looking over her shoulder, she sees Big Wig chatting with a couple of other ponies. Confirming that her boss didn’t overhear, she coughs nervously into her hoof before sitting up straight in the worst act of casual you have witnessed.

You look between her and Big Wig. In a low voice you ask, “Allie, did you even get permission before setting up our after hours sessions?”

She glances over again, before looking around for any other ponies she may not want to hear. Motioning with a hoof for you to lean closer, she clears her throat.

“...Yeah, of course I did,” she says, instantly dropping the nervous act. “I’m not stupid,” she adds with a spinning of her hoof around her ear.

You stand shocked for a moment before you both burst out into chuckles. Tired or not, she’s still quite the joker.

“Well, I just wanted to say…” you begin. “I think perhaps we should take a little break? Maybe?”

Her mouth drops as she looks taken aback. “What!? Oh no no no! We can’t stop now! You’re just starting to get better!”

You put up a hoof defensively. “I’m not saying we should stop entirely, just… you know, take a break. Just a couple of nights off is all.”

Her eyes drift to the ceiling in thought. “Oh. Well, uh, we can’t afford to skip out on sessions. We don’t have much time left until game day, remember? We need all the practice we can get for you!”

“And to that, I agree,” you say. “But at the expense of all of my sleep, I don’t think all this practice will do much good in the long run. Aren’t you exhausted too?”

“What? Me? Pbbth!” she says as her hoof brushes a few stray hairs of her mane back down. “I dunno about you, but I’m doing just fine!” There’s that painful smile again…

You purse your lips. “Allie, you can’t be serious. On top of helping me, you have to deal with all of this too.” You wave your hoof towards all the patrons roaming around the bowling alley. “All of this for several days and next to no sleep? You can’t tell me that you aren’t the least bit tired?”

“Please, I’ll have you know that I feel absowootoweyyaaaauugh.” She turns her head away to hide the rest of her spontaneous yawn. Her head snaps back to attention as you raise an eyebrow.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” you ask.

“My previous statement was perfectly clear,” she quips defiantly. She crosses her hooves for added effect. “I’m fine. Now if you excuse me, I have to get back to work.” She turns around and sits on her haunches, staring forward intently into the wall behind her.

“Uh… Allie?” you call out to her.

“I’m working!” is all she shouts back.

“But-”

“Working!”

You glance around at a few of the other ponies bowling, wondering how long she’ll keep up this charade. It’ll probably only last until the next customer walks up. Seeing a few other bowlers, you take some mental note of their techniques. Allie’s showing has given you some knowledge about what to look for. How many steps they take and how wide their swing is are the biggest determining factors you can see from this distance. A few bowlers you can actually predict how well their throw is going to be by their approach.

“Hey, you two!” comes an excited voice. Looking over your shoulder, you see Big Wig trotting up towards you. If anything would get Allie to stop ‘working’ for a moment, it would be her boss.

“Hi there. What’s up?” you respond.

“Well, I was just going to ask Allie about this, but what a treat that you both are here!” she rambles as she walks up. Casting a quick side glance, you see that she has in fact gotten the attention of Allie. “Now, there’s something that I’d like to ask the two of you, seeing as you’re both rather partial to the games we got in the arcade.”

“The arcade games?” Allie responds. She closes the register after the latest transaction and steps over to your side. “What about ’em? You’re not taking them out of here, are you?” she hisses, her words laced with venom.

The boss mare chuckles. “No, no, Allie. I couldn’t get rid of those doodads even if I wanted to! Celestia knows you’d be out the door in a split if I did! Though it might get ya to keep focused on working more than playing...”

Allie pouts as she turns her head and snorts. “I will not apologize for all the hours spent on Ms. Pac-Mare. My high score speaks for itself.” she says, holding her head up high. You can’t help but roll your eyes… though you have to admit, her high score is quite impressive.

Big Wig laughs again, waving a hoof. “I’m just teasing ya, Allie! They’re not going anywhere. In fact, it’s the exact opposite!”

You cock an eyebrow. “How do you mean?”

The mare reaches into her jacket and pulls out a magazine. “Well, I’ve been thinking of adding a new game to the alley, but I can’t pick which one. I took some suggestions from around the arcade, but I can’t make sense of any of ‘em. Seeing as you two are all about them games, I’d like you to pick one out for me!”

You smile and open your mouth to speak, but it’s quickly cut off by the excited yelp from Allie. The magazine in the boss mare’s hoof starts to glow a familiar blue as it is levitated over to you and the mare beside you. The cover is swiftly blown back as Allie immediately begins to pan her eyes over the pages. Once she finally sits down and stabilizes the magazine in the air, you move over to join her and glance over the pages.

“I’ll leave you two to it,” Big Wig says with a chuckle. “Pick the one ya’ think is best for the bowling alley!”

“Will do!” you call out as she walks away. Looking back to the magazine, you join Allie in scanning down the list of available arcade cabinets.

The first couple of pages are mostly dedicated to the classics. Space Invaders, Mareo Bros, and Monkey Wrong the Second are prominently displayed with a couple other selections in smaller print. All of them are listed with various prices to purchase. If you had the bits, you would put one of these in your home in a second. You had sunk more than a few bits into these kinds of games and you know other ponies would to. These could pay for themselves in no time.

“See anything jumping out at you?” you ask.

“Let’s see all the options first,” Allie retorts.

Conceding her point, you let her turn the page. This time, it’s divided into two sections; racing games and light gun games. You know about these games. They were big, bulky, loud, and took more bits to play than any other kind of game. Without even looking at the titles, you see the prices are significantly more expensive than the ones on the previous page. Glancing up at Allie, she meets your gaze. In a silent agreement you both shake your heads before moving on.

The next one is dedicated to fighting games, both versus and cooperative beat-em-ups. Now these kinds of games you could really get into. The first one, Double Dragon catches your eye. Reading the description, your smile begins to grow at the idea of being able to play it. You’ve read about this one in so many magazines.

However, it’s cut short as the magazine swiftly falls flat face down on the counter, accompanied by a gleeful shriek from Allie. She holds her hooves in front of her hugely grinning face.

“Did you find something?” you inquire, wondering what in the world spurred that sort of reaction.

She bounces in place a few times squealing in an octave that would make a filly jealous. The magazine is swiftly jerked back up into the air with her magic as she plants her hooves around your cheeks, forcing your face into the pages.

“Look at it!” she yelps. “LOOKIT!”

You scramble a bit to regain your composure. She can get just a weeeee bit excited at times. You pull your head back a bit to get a better look at the pages to see what all of the fuss is about.

You read the name of the game in question.

You read it again.

And again.

And one last time, aloud to yourself.

“Ninja Baseball Batmare.”

It takes a moment to register the words you just read. Allie lets go of your face and you slowly turn to face her. The two of you silently mouth the title again to each other. Ninja Baseball Batmare…

And then it hits. That sheer, unbridled hype that only a gamer could know.

“Ninja Baseball Batmare!?” you shout.

“YES!” Allie confirms, bouncing on her hind legs in pure glee.

“Isn’t that the absurdly rare game imported from Neighppon!?”

“Yes!” she responds, her head nodding furiously.

You glance back to the magazine with a giddy smile on your face. The first thing you spot is the price, which is notably higher than the other titles on the page. Almost on par with the racing games from the last page. You turn back to Allie, unable to contain your volume.

“Seems to be a bit pricey though…”

“Yeah. On the one hoof,” she begins while gesturing, “this is our chance to really make some money for the place should we choose the right game. But on the other…”

You lean closer during her pause, waiting in suspense for what reason she may give to justify the expensive purchase. However, she suddenly reaches out towards you. You lean back in surprise out of her reach. She steps forward in another attempt, but gets nowhere as you move back again.

“Come here,” she commands.

“What?” you blurt out.

“Come here, I need to grab you.” She wriggles her hooves in a sign to beckon you closer.

“Why do you need to grab me?” you ask.

“Because I need to for the full effect of this!” she explains. “So come here and let me grab you!”

“Are you going to shake me?” you inquire, imagining where this could lead.

“No!” she spouts defiantly.

You raise a disbelieving eyebrow at her.

“...Maybe,” she admits.

You cross your forelegs.

“But you’re not going to hear what’s on the other hoof unless you let me grab and maybe shake you,” she protests.

“Are you just going to shake me and say because it’s Ninja Baseball Batmare?”

“You’re killing me here!” she exclaims, dragging her hooves down her face. Looking at you, she reaches out again, this time in a pathetic looking pout with her bottom lip sticking out.

“Allie,” you groan in a mix of embarrassment and reluctance. However, her eyes grow wide to simulate the look of a puppy dog. Caught in the poor gaze of the mare who just wants to spread a little weirdness to break the monotony of the normal work day, you let out a sigh.

“Fine,” you say defeatedly as you step within Allie’s reach.

“Thank you,” she replies with a genuine smile as she places her hooves on your shoulders. “Now where was I?”

“On the other hoof,” you offer.

“Oh right. On the other hoof…” she starts again.

Suddenly you start getting rocked back and forth in her grasp, Your head is whipped forward and backward behind your shoulders.

“It’s Ninja Baseball Batmare!” she shrieks as she shakes you.

You force yourself out of her hooves and grip your head, trying to dispel the sudden vertigo. “Allie, it’s very… tempting, I won’t lie, but we still need to think about the cost. This is coming out of Big Wig’s pocket, right?”

She purses her lips. “B-But… it’s so shiny! And it’d definitely bring in a lot of dough! This game is awesome! ...Supposedly.”

You shake your head to her. “As shiny as it is, I don’t think it would be the best choice. Don’t get me wrong, I want to play it too! But we still need to think of the alley’s sake on this one.”

Her ears flop as she turns to the magazine again, giving the price another glance. She bites her lip as she looks it over, eyes darting a bit. After what appears to be some contemplation, her lips droop into a pathetic frown. Her gaze drifts to the ground. “Nnnggaaawww! I want it sooooo baaaad…”

You scooch over and give her a pat on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, maybe we can order it next time if the price drops, alright?”

She pouts for a bit, but eventually nods. She then suddenly pokes you in the chest. “BUT! You have to come to our session tonight, no objections! Deal?”

“What? But, I’m tired! And you’re tired!” you respond, pointing both your hooves towards the accusedly tired. “There’s no way we’d actually make progress like this.”

She crosses her forelegs and stares at you, daring you to challenge her offer. Your eyebrows furrow at her gaze. If this is the game she wants to play, then fair enough.

“Fine,” you say. Allie smiles smugly until you add like she did, “BUT! The arcade game we’re getting is…” you eye the magazine and flip back to the first page. “This one,” you quip as you point your hoof on the page.

She glances over to see your pick. Her frown deepens.

“Asteroids!?” she exclaims. “That’s so boring! No runny punchy action. Not even a stick to hit things with.”

“It’s the current record holder for the biggest taker of bits among arcade cabinets,” you explain. “If there’s a game that’ll make money for the alley, it’s that one.”

She bites her lip in frustration. It’s clear she wants to use this opportunity to get something flashy. Her eyes dart between you and the magazine.

“So what’ll it be?” you ask, crossing your forelegs for the full imitation of her just a moment ago. You seriously doubt she’ll go for it. While the game is addictive, it’s been known to drone on with its sounds and having it so close to the front would surely drive Allie insane.

Her eyes dart around in bit for a moment, seemingly searching for an alternative, but she finds none as she throws her head back with a dissatisfied groan. “Fine… but I’m not happy about it.” she says, as she folds her forelegs with an adorable pout.

You give a content smile. “Great! Want me to go tell Big Wig?”

“No, no, I’ll handle it,” she says, shaking her head. Her voice carries a hint of disappointment. “You just go on ahead, maybe get some rest before our session?”

You push yourself up to your hooves and begin to make your way to the door. “Right. And what game are we ordering?”

“Asteroids, why do you- Oh, pbbth on you!” she says, sticking her tongue out and blowing a raspberry in your direction. “I’m not gonna tell her to get the other one. What do I look like, a little spoiled filly?”

You let out a chuckle, shaking your head. “Just messing with you Allie, calm down! I’ll see you later tonight, okay?”

“Muh.” she responds, swinging a hoof in your direction as she makes her way back to the desk. You’ve known her for long enough to know she isn’t mad. At least, not too mad. Just slightly beyond having her buttons pushed.

You figured she’s had enough of the teasing for one afternoon. You turn to the door and begin the trip home to maybe sneak a quick nap in. Hopefully she won’t drill you too hard this session.

~~~~~~

“Front and center, maggot!” she yells as you line up to take your next shot. “You will throw your ball. You will send it on a course towards those pins. You will knock down a good number of them, leaving little, if any, standing afterward. Is that clear?”

“Yeah, okay. Sure,” you mumble around the hoof you raise to cover a yawn. Your afternoon nap wasn’t nearly long enough, all for sitting in front of a lane with Allie yelling like what she thinks is a military official. “Can I bowl, now?”

“You must first be in the right mind!” Allie says, putting her hooves on your shoulders. “First off, who is our enemy?”

“Hard Ball,” you reply. “I thought that was pretty obviou-”

“Wrong!” she suddenly shouts, causing you to wince. “Hard Ball on any day is a chump. No, the ones standing between you and victory are those things right there.” She points down the lane to the white pins awaiting on the other side.

“But they never hurt anypony,” you say. “In fact, they exist only to be abused if you really think about it.” Sleep deprivation mindset at work.

“It’s them or you. If you cannot take them out, they will take you out,” she explains. She starts rubbing your shoulders as she leans towards you. “Look at them,” she whispers. “Standing up like they’re all that and a side salad. Are you going to let them mock you?”

You stare down the shiny pins. Memories come back of all the times you had thrown towards them only to remain upright in defiance. The grip on your ball becomes tighter as you set your jaw.

“No,” you reply to her question.

“Are you going to let them win?” she asks.

“No,” you respond again, a little tension rising up the back of your neck.

“Are you going to just let them sit there?”

“No,” you say as a fire begins to burn in your chest.

“Let the arm of the machine knock them over for you?”

“No!” you yell out, hoof shaking at the pins that have mocked you so many times before.

“Are you going to knock them off their buffed and polished butts?”

“N- I mean, yes!”

“Then show them what you’re made of!” she cheers as she lets go and moves back.

You quickly take your stance and move forward with intent to kill. The weight of the ball flows satisfyingly through the air as you release it down the lane. Such a throw, it slides down the lane before actually starting to roll.

THUMP- crchkchrck chunkpoomp.

...Right into the gutter.

You sink down as your ears flop back in embarrassment. Your cheeks start to feel a little warm as well. Allie trots back over and puts a hoof on your shoulder again. After all that pumping up, with that performance you don’t really want to look up at her.

“Can I get another chance?” you ask meekly.

“Sure. But first, do me a favor,” she says. All the previous aggression and toughness in her voice is gone. “Take a deep breath.”

Doing as she says, your chest begins to puff out with the air you intake.

“And out slowly,” she commands.

Releasing it slowly, you feel the tenseness of the moment begin to lift. Muscles you didn’t know were tightened start to relax. Your posture dips down a little further.

The ball return coughs up your ball as Allie takes her hoof back. Taking a small glance over towards her, she gives you a nod. Stepping up, you take your ball and your place in front of the lane again. She places her hooves on your shoulders again, rubbing with a lot less vigor than last time.

“Deep breath again,” she says calmly. You obey and let it out again slowly. “Okay. You can do this,” she states as she steps back.

Going much more slowly, your steps feel lighter and the ball comes forward a lot more steadily. It travels down the lane in a much more promising fashion until…

KERSH-clunklunkclunkclunkclunklunkclunkklunk

Eight pins fall with one of the other two standing wobbling back and forth. You smile at the much better outcome and Allie gives a small round of applause behind you.

“Now remember this. Anger, excitement, and high tension are the real enemies,” she explains. “There’s no doubt in my mind that Hard Ball will try to rile you up come the big day, so you have to keep your emotions in check. Do you understand?”

Your eyes widen a bit in surprise. You really weren’t expecting the bubbly girl Allie is to turn that little outburst of hers into a life lesson. Clever girl. You nod your head with a smile. “Understood.”

She smiles in response moving over to you and draping a hoof over your shoulders. “It’s easy to get a bit anxious when it comes to a big game, believe me. But just always remember!” She puts her other hoof to her chest, taking a deep breath in and releasing it slowly. She then looks back to you with a smile. “Simple, right?”

You nod again in response. You open your mouth to speak, but are cut off by the familiar cough of your ball being returned. You give her a look that tells her “you got it” and “allow me?” at the same time. She pulls away from you and takes her seat once more, crossing her legs and leaning back.

“So,” she starts as you pick your ball up and align your hooves for another toss, “how’s it feel being a big-shot bowler?”

You roll your eyes, making minute movements to your hooves. “Allie, c’mon, I’m still only worthy of the minor leagues at this point. Maybe.” You wind up your swing, take a few steps forward, and let the ball loose on the track with a satisfying thud.

Allie leans forward in her chair, watching your ball go. “Psh, naw. You’ve been doing great! Don’t tell me it’s not a step up from your old game!”

KERSH-clunkclunkcluclunkclunk

“Hey, six pins!” she quips. “Not bad!”

You shrug. “Hm, it works. And yeah, I’ve been doing better. Still nervous about game day, though…”

She clicks her tongue. “Don’t be such a Negative Nancy!” She sits in place waiting for your ball to return, putting a hoof to her chin in thought. She tilts her head from side to side, humming to herself a bit before standing up. “Hmm… How about this then.”

You look to her with a curious expression. “How about what?”

“Well, for most, getting better is motivation itself to keep going. But since you…” she says while pointing a hoof into your chest, “don’t seem to be excited for your leaps and bounds of improvement, then maybe we need something else.”

“Something else? Like, not getting kicked out of the bowling alley?” you ask.

“Precisely!” The hoof in your chest is quickly brought into the air in a show of enthusiasm. “But let’s keep it separate from the big game or anything else. I want you to be excited for you. To improve for you. To bowl for you and you alone.”

“So what did you have in mind?” you inquire.

“How about a super special extra prize if you do well?” She wiggles her eyebrows to tempt you further. “A prize from me to you.”

A prize? Like another trophy like the participation ones you have cluttered together in a box in the back of your cellar? Or maybe she’ll get you some free games of bowling or something from the concession stand.

You shrug. “Okay, what do I win if we’re able to beat Hard Ball?”

“You already get a prize from that. The smug satisfaction of rubbing Hard Ball’s big, dumb muzzle in it right out the front door!” She wiggles her hoof across the way all the way to the exit.

You give a little chuckle, but then stop to think. You hadn’t thought about how their team would have to vote out one of their own should you emerge victorious. It makes you feel a little hollow having to subject somepony to what you fear of for yourself; even if it happened to be Hard Ball.

“You know…” you begin in a somber tone. “I don’t think we should kick any of them out if we win.”

Allie looks taken aback. “What? Really? After all of the flak they’ve given us over the past months? Given you?”

You wince a bit at her tone. “I haven’t forgotten that, but think about it. Wouldn’t we be stooping to their level if we went through with that?”

She rubs her forehead before responding. “It’s not about that. They pulled us into this bet… well, I kinda did to, but they made us part of it knowing full and well the stakes and risks. They’re just as subject to having to ban one of their members as we are!”

“Allie, I just… I don’t know. It feels wrong having to kick someone out. If it were deserved, like someone causing constant trouble, I can understand, but for something as silly as a bet, I just don’t know.”

She purses her lips as her eyes scan the ground for a bit, seemingly searching for an answer. “Hm… Well, we can worry about that when we get to that bridge, alright? For now, we need to make sure we can actually cross the bridge and not fall through the planks, okay?” she says with a smile.

You sigh through your nose, nodding in agreement. This really isn’t a battle you want to fight right now. You’re too tired to debate with her all night. Knowing how stubborn she is, it would really go all night. Instead, you jump to another topic as you fetch your ball again. “So, what is this prize exactly?”

She shakes her head, her ponytail whipping around her neck with the motion. “Nope. Not telling.”

You look at her with mild annoyance. “Allie c’mon, I don’t want you doing anything extensive for me.”

“I’m not telling! What’s a prize without the excitement factor?” she asks, with a wide smile.

“Allie-”

“You can’t spell ‘surprise’ without ‘prize!’ ...Kind of.”

You stare at her with half-lidded eyes and a gaze that begs her to cease the silliness. She returns it with a smile and wide eyes that say you aren’t going to win this battle either.

A couple more moments pass as you frown/grin at each other.

“So I don’t get it for beating Hard Ball,” you begin to break the silence, “then when do I get this prize?”

“As soon as you get a high enough score,” she answers. “That should get you to look forward to ramping up your game. Let’s say at one hundred pins.”

“A hundred pins!?” you shout. “But my highest score so far is 63! How am I supposed to reach a hundred before we face Hard Ball?”

“By getting better, unless you have another way,” she quips.

“Not really. You’re the one with the magic horn,” you retort.

“Eh, magic’s overrated.” She waves her hoof to add to the dismissive comment. “But I promise that I would totally magic you better if I could.”

“Why can’t you? Light it up and make me bowl,” you say with a bit of a snicker.

“Hmm. You know, I never really tried before,” she ponders while tapping her chin. “Let’s give it a shot!” Her horn illuminates as an aura begins to envelop your hoof. It the mysterious force drags you over to your ball and picks it up. “Now let’s take your place and-”

“I’ve changed my mind!” you yell out. The magic is really uncomfortable, making your limb feel like you’ve slept on it all night. Although, that’s some wishful thinking. The aura vanishes from around your hoof as you drop the ball back onto the rack of the ball return.

“Well, you’re on your own, then,” she says. “Don’t say I don’t try to help.”

You try to rub feeling back into your hoof as you glare at Allie again. She gives another one of her giggles. Normally this would cause you to cheer right back up and laugh with her, but the sleep deprivation is taking its toll again causing you to continue your scowl. Eventually she sees that you are not amused.

“Okay, I’m sorry,” she offers. That’s enough to get you to break your stare of disapproval.

“So, a hundred pins and I get a prize?” you ask.

“That’s the deal!” she confirms.

“And I don’t get to know what it is?” you ask again.

Instead of the immediate ‘yes’ she hums for a moment. “Tell you what. I’ll give you a hint.” Your ears perk up, ready to listen. “It’s something very personal and I really hope you’ll like it.”

You mull over the clue in your head. Maybe one of her old bowling trophies? A medal of some kind that she one? Perhaps a used ball of hers? Whatever the prize could be sounds more sentimental than expensive, which you’re all for if she doesn’t have to spend a lot for you.

“I’ll try to work up to it,” you say. This statement is met a with a wider, excited smile from Allie giving a little squeak of approval.

“Take your ball and get started! We can get in a few more throws tonight,” she states.

Grabbing your ball without magical assistance this time, you stand back in front of the lanes. Taking in a deep breath and releasing it slowly, you think over your new goal as you approach your throw.

100 pins…

Chapter Five

*crunch crunch crunch*

Man, this is one crisp apple.

Enjoying your half hour break for lunch, you sit on one of the boxes to load (normally against the rules, but it’s a wooden crate filled with paper). You watch a few birds pass by overhead while you take another bite of apple, renewing the tangy yet sweet juice over your tongue.

You savor every moment of your break, grateful for a chance to relax. . Allie hasn’t let up at all with the late night practice sessions, but thankfully she was going to give you something tonight that you had been looking forward to since the start of all this.

A night off!

Tomorrow is Saturday, the week before the big game, and your chance to show off your improvements against the competition. While that’s what Allie is excited for, you’re more happy with the fact that you’re finally getting a full night’s rest. Heck, you’ll probably hit the hay at 9 o’clock if you can manage it. Sleep, sleep, and more sleep.

“Hey buddy,” says a deep voice beside you that nearly makes you jump.

You look up to the brown pony in the hat and jump off the box. “Yeah, boss?” you ask.

“I’ve heard talk yer gonna be in a Bowler’s Bet down at the alley next week,” he answers. “That a matter of fact?”

Your eyes widen a bit at the idea that your boss could hear or care about such a thing. You thought this mess was at least contained to the alley itself.

“Yes, sir,” you reply. “There was a distraction at the time, now my team’s roped into it.”

He chuckles, his voice shaking like a loose bag of gravel. “I take it that’s what all the late night bowlin’s you told me about is for?” he inquires.

You give a sheepish nod and shrug.

“Well, good luck,” he offers, the gravelly chuckle present in his voice again. After he calms down a bit, he adds, “Y’know, I used to do a bit o’ bowlin’ in my time.”

“Oh really?” you ask.

“Yep. Saturday mornin’ league, just like they still got down there,” he says. “Now I didn’t have all them fancy equipment for resettin’ pins or nothin’. You’d see the ponies in the back waitin’ fer the ball to come by. That was their job, and it paid decent enough for schoolcolts,” he explains.

Oh boy. Boss on a tangent. Activate the Nodding Uh-Huhs.

“Uh-huh,” you reply with a nod.

“Yessiree, those were the times. Ponies would have to keep score on pen and paper, count how many pins they knocked over. Heh, I remember how many fights there’d be, colts claimin’ that they were fakin’ points and all. Have to start games back from the beginnin’ just because one pony said another was cheatin’!”

“Uh-huh.”

He lowers his flank, taking a seat beside you. His eyes drift to the ceiling. “I entered a couple’ve the big-shot tourneys m’self. I wasn’t the best or nothin’ but it was always a good load’ve fun. Heck, even managed to get a few wins too! Took home some trophies n’ medals!”

“Uh-huh,” you say, lowering your head onto a hoof.

“But these ol’ bones couldn’t keep goin’ forever. My dang bum shoulder gave out on me one day, couldn’t keep playin’. Still went down to th’ alley every now n’ then though, but lemme tell ya, bowlin’ with yer off-hoof? Funniest thing in this side of Equestria! Don’t think the gutter ever took so much abuse in its life!”

“Uh-huh.” Your attention span starts to fade rapidly.

“Since I couldn’t play no more, I decided to take my nephew down to th’ alley one day, and lemme tell ya, he was just a natural! Kid barely needed any help from me t’ tear up the pins! Took him a bit to get it, but he wouldn’t listen t’ me. Always was a bit of a hard head, but with a few throws, he found his own way of bowlin’. Never seen anypony pick it up fast as he did!”

“Uh-huh.” Your eyes start to drift shut of their own will.

“Yup, he was a star in the makin’, and now look at ‘im! Hard Ball’s one-a the best in town!”

“Uh-huh-huh? Wait, what?” you say, pitch rising as you process what he just said.

Your boss chuckles a little more. “Yeah. The one yer in that bet against.”

The thought of you going up against the nephew of your boss strikes a little terror into your heart. “So, uh, you know what this bet means, right?” you ask, perhaps to gleam a hint as the fate of your employment should you happen to get Hard Ball kicked out.

“Yep. Loser team loses a member. Pro’lly you,” he states.

Ignoring the little comment of who may be the one to leave the alley, you try to get some more information. “But let’s just say, hypothetically, if my team were able to beat Hard Ball’s…”

“Do ya’ really think they’d vote ‘im out?” he asks. “The best bowler on the team? Not likely.” He shakes his head.

“Oh, well, um… okay, but I’ve been working hard,” you explain. “I’ve been making improvements.”

“I bet ya’ have,” he quips.

“So if I happen to stand a slim chance, and it turns out that luck’s on my side,” you continue, “what would happen if say-”

“Do ya’ think I’m gonna fire you if y’all beat my nephew?” he interrupts. “Don’t you worry none. If he loses, that’s his fault. If he’s kicked out, that’s their fault.” He gives you an encouraging pat on the back. “‘Sides, he could stand to get knocked down a peg or two. Don’t let me get in the way o’ yer trainin’. Just sayin’, it’ll be a hard fought battle.”

He gets up to let you finish your lunch and break. “Thanks,” you call out as he walks away.

“Don’t mention it,” he responds. “He pro’lly does even care about the competition anyway…” you hear him grumble.

You raise an eyebrow at his statement. Doesn’t care? Why would he force you into it if that were the case?

Perhaps he’s having a change of heart? You might be able to talk him out of it tomorrow and be done with the whole thing, no harm done. The idea makes your chest flutter with excitement. Sure, Allie would be disappointed that all your training wouldn’t go towards destroying Hard Ball, but it’s better to know you’re not in danger of getting kicked out.

Besides, getting called a chicken is better than not being allowed into the alley any day.

You look back to the apple on the box. Only another bite or two left in the sweet fruit, but your appetite is long gone. There are more pressing matters at hoof, namly your work, as you see one of your coworkers give you a gesture, signaling he’s taking his time off.

You nod and chuck the apple core into the waste bin beside you. Pushing yourself up from your flank, you head over to the loading station to finish your shift.

~*~*~

You place your hooves out in front of you a bit and stretch your back legs out, lowering your chest and feeling the oh-so satisfying relief of the muscles all throughout your back. You end the motion by going slightly limp with a sigh, shifting your hooves back under you and shaking your head a bit, tossing around your modestly damp mane.

With the shift done, you decide to head home to get some much needed rest. Between the heavy lifting at work and the countless hours at the alley, you feel like you’ve earned one absurdly long nap. You give the boss a farewell before clocking out. As you leave the building, you find Ponyville to be quite peaceful outside. Only a few stragglers roam the streets, a bit odd considering it isn’t too late in the day. The sun has only just begun its descent to the horizon.

You smile to yourself. Less ponies means less traffic to weave your way through to get home to your bed. Or couch. Or floor, whatever you happen to pass out on first. Not wanting to delay the inevitable any further, you steel your resolve and begin to march your way through the mostly empty streets.

Hooves clacking on the cobblestone roads, the trip is mostly uneventful. You pass by a couple shops and stands that give you some ideas for the next time you need groceries.

Suddenly, a noise from behind catches your attention. It’s a cart. Not just any cart, though. A kind of cart that you happen to be very familiar with. A cargo cart. By the sound of its wheels on the rock road, a really loaded one at that.

Stepping off to the side, you wait for it to pass by so you can continue home. Much to your surprise, it doesn’t pass by you. In fact, it slows to a stop in front of you.

“Look, here’s somepony we can ask,” says one of the two pullers. He has a beige coat with yellow mane.

“We don’t need to ask! I got the directions right here!” protests the other pony pulling the cart. This one is gray with a black mane. Both look very well cut out for dragging heavy loads around.

“Your directions had us going in circles for the last twenty minutes,” the first puller snips. “Let’s ask this guy. Hey buddy!”

“Yeah?”

“Can you tell us how to get to the bowling alley?” he asks. “We got a new arcade machine for the joint, but we can’t tell heads or tails of this place.”

“Arcade machine? We only ordered that yesterday,” you state in a confused manner.

“Fast delivery and unbeatable service!” the two cart pullers say in unison, proudly.

“Well, if you take a right up there, go past the fountain, then around the building that looks like a giant gingerbread house, you should see it from there,” you explain, pointing with a hoof.

“Right, fountain, gingerbread. Got it,” quips the second puller.

“Thanks, buddy,” says the first cart puller as they begin to move away.

“You’re welcome!” you call out to them.

So the arcade machine is already on its way. Well, there goes the rest of Allie’s shift, you think with a chuckle. It might be fun to see her first reaction to it. Given her performance yesterday, seeing her get sucked into it would be something to tease her with later.

With a new course planned, you set off down the nearest alley way. You may not have given those two ponies the fastest way to the establishment, but there are some roads better suited to those without huge carts to pull. Heck, you might even be able to get there before they unload if you’re quick enough.

You find yourself reinvigorated, and you’re not entirely sure why.Perhaps it’s because you want to beat the delivery colts to their destination? Or are you just excited to see how Allie reacts? You’re not sure, but whatever the case, you get the feeling you’ll regret running there in your current state, but that’s a problem for future you.

You cut a sharp corner around some of the tight knit buildings, dodging some trash bags along the way. Sifting your way over the debris of the backroads, you hop over a box or two in your trek. You almost bump into a purple coated pegasus as your round another corner. You apologize as you continue onward.

In a matter of moments, you come upon the bowling alley. From the looks of it, the delivery wagon has yet to arrive. You do an internal hoof pump before feeling a bit lightheaded. You forgot that the only thing you’ve eaten recently was that apple at break time; hardly enough fuel for running around town. You shake your head again to regain your bearings, walking slowly towards the alley.

Interestingly enough, you find that Allie is actually sitting on the bench at the entrance, casually flipping through the pages of a magazine in her hooves. Looks to be a copy of the latest issue of… House Fancy? If you were to guess, judging from her bored expression, she probably just plucked a random magazine from the kiosk to read.

As you approach, she glances up from her booklet and spots you. Her expression changes in an instant, switching to a bright eyed smile. She throws the magazine onto the bench and hops up, prancing forward to greet you. “Well hi there! Fancy seeing you here!”

You chuckle a bit. “It’s not that fancy, seeing as I come here almost every day, remember?”

“No, I mean Fancy here,” she explains, tapping the front cover of the magazine. It displays a white pony with two-tone blue mane and monocle, known throughout many regions as ‘Fancy Pants’. “Seeee…” she mumbles out, holding up the magazine like a mask. “Seeeeee.”

As she pushes the magazine towards you, you reach up to stop the picture of the dapper unicorn on a collision course with your muzzle.

As the paper comes in contact with your hoof, she blows a raspberry. “Bleh, you’re no fun.” She then haphazardly tosses the magazine behind her, causing it to land on the bench behind her in an inglorious fashion. “So what brings you here? I figured you’d be napping all day.”

You shrug. “Just figured I’d stop by and be here to welcome the...!” you say, dramatically waving a hoof in the direction of the main road.

Allie looks down the path where you point to, raising a brow. “...Wwwwelcome the what?”

You stare awkwardly down the road as your hopes of looking sly start to fade away. “You know, the uh…”

The corners of her pursed lips start to curl up into a smug smile as her eyes turn back to you. “Trying to be cool and it didn’t work out?

You lower your hoof and head, sighing in a bit of defeat. “Universe conspires against you sometimes, y’know?”

She just gives a solemn nod. This isn’t the first time a big lead up has fallen flat in front of Allie. The weeks of bowling have shown time and time again that you can’t catch a break.

But still, you came all this way. Might as well ask what she’s reading.

“So what do you have there?” you ask.

“Magazine,” she says. Apparently she didn’t even think the title of it important enough to mention or even commit to memory.

“I see that,” you reply. “What’s it about?”

“I ‘unno,” she responds with a shrug. “I’m just seeing how many funny words I can spell through the paragraphs.” She opens it up to the page she was saving and points to a passage. “See here? It says dinkburgle.”

Looking at where she drags her hoof, you do see the letters arranged to spell such a phrase. The letters aren’t straight, but definitely close enough to see.

“Ha. That’s quite the coincidence,” you chuckle.

“I don’t know about that.” She looks at the magazine again, a smirk over her face. “I think it might be an inside joke with the writers.”

“Really?” you ask with a smirk of your own.

“Seems way too intentional. Maybe it’s a secret code!” she announces suddenly. “Fancy Pants and the housing market conspiring together!” She’s starting to get a little loud. “Running the top of the Canterlot elite and nobles with the dreaded dinkburgle!”

“I think that’s enough.” You don’t have the energy to keep up with her right now. “What are you doing out here, anyway?”

“Meh. Just getting some fresh air.” She throws her hooves above her in a stretch.

“Too much time on the games?” you tease, nudging her side.

She nudges you back, pushing your leg away. “Muhnehneh. I was just defending my turf.”

You deadpan to her. “Crushing another seven year old colt on Mortal Kombat?”

“It’s not my fault he was playing a game way out of his age group. And nopony is gonna beat me in that game, as you know very well!” She accentuates her statement by sticking her pink tongue out at you.

You chuckle a bit. “I almost get the sense you have some sort of superiority complex over videogames.”

She blows a raspberry as she turns her head away from you, flinging her ponytail around her neck. “No I do not! I just want to be the very best like nopony ever was!” she says, slightly singing the last few words. “Just like I’m gonna do with the new game that’s coming to the alley!”

“You’re not gonna no-life it until you get a flawless high score, are you?” you ask.

“It’s not ‘no-lifing,” it’s called dedication!” she says as she starts to rub her hooves together with an oddly menacing look upon her face. “Dedication to my name, my legacy, my score! I’m gonna be the unbeatable arcade champ of the bowling alley, and nopony will ever defeat me! Mwah hah hah hah ahah!” She ceases her wicked laughter as she comes back to reality, drawing her hooves close to her chest as she looks at your flat expression. “Oversold it?”

You nod. “Just a wee bit.” You pull your attention off of her to look down the road. Almost on a whim, the delivery cart from earlier turns the corner, eliciting a smile from you. “Speaking of games, take a look.”

Allie gaze follows your prompting. As soon as she sees the familiar trolley, she springs to her legs with a great smile, dancing on her hooves. “Oooh, yes! Finally!”

“Finally? It’s been just one day,” you comment, “and you weren’t even excited about it at first.”

“That was before it was coming and so it wasn’t a thing,” she explains. “Now there’s an actual thing to be excited about and I wasn’t excited before because there was nothing. But now here it is, so therefore, I am excited.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Any reason you’re extra goofy as of late?” you ask.

She shrugs. “Not that I can think of.”

“You sure it’s not sleep deprivation getting to you?” you press on.

“Pfft. Like ponies actually need to lie on their back with their eyes closed for a third of a day,” she brushes off with the swipe of her hoof. As she talks, you get an idea. Opening your mouth, you loudly breathe in and then do and extended exhale. “We could be doing so much more in that time- hey, what are you doing? No, no, don’t do thaaaaa-aaauuuhh.” She brings a hoof over her mouth to cover her sudden yawn.

In response, you simply give her the biggest smile you can manage.

She looks at you with the same annoyed look you’ve probably shot her many times.

“You suave, smug little-”

“But he said left at the fountain!” you hear one of the cart pullers exclaim.

“I thought I knew a shortcut,” the other replies.

“You’ve never been in this town before!”

“Oh, yeah, because you know this place like the back of your freakin’ hoof, right?”

“Says the guy who don’t know east from west! You wouldn’t even-”

“Ahem.” You clear your throat audibly, catching the attention of the two bickering stallions.

They flinch before turning to you with blank expressions, then cock their eyebrows in unison. One of them speaks up. “Wait a minute, weren’t you the guy that just…?” He points off in the other direction to the other side of town.

“Mhmm. I see you two found your way here easily?” you tease.

The gray colt gives the other a stern eye, who returns it with equal venom. “Well, we would have gotten here sooner if dunderhead here didn’t forget his rights from his lefts.”

His brow furrows at the remark as he responds, hissing through his teeth. “Let’s not do this here…”

You almost speak up, but find yourself suddenly looking at Allie’s neck as she walks in front of you. “Wow, I’m amazed you guys got here with it so fast! I wasn’t expecting it the day after we ordered it!”

You open your mouth to speak again, but are cut off as the two stallions speak in near-perfect unison, their frowns and spite completely replaced with smiles and glee. “Fast delivery and unbeatable service!”

My flank, you think to yourself. With a tiny roll of your eyes, you step around Allie to face the delivery boys once again. “Let’s take it to the back, we can unload it there.”

“Yes sir!” one of the colts says, keeping his place to give a salute to you. The other colt, on the other hoof, tries to start moving immediately, causing the trolley to jostle at the opposing movements of the haulers. They give each other split second frowns before regaining composure, moving in unison to wheel the trolley around the building.

You look back to Allie who is now drumming her hooves against the ground. “Anxious?” you ask.

“Maybe a bit,” she confesses. “I can’t wait to start getting the unbeatable score on that machine!”

You chuckle. At this point, you would challenge Allie in some way, shape, or form as to the possibility of you claiming such a high score for yourself. However, you’ve seen the lengths that mare will go when she’s fixated on something.

There was an urban myth you remember reading about sometime back about the collective energy of the bees in a standard beehive. Apparently, if you took all the force from every buzzing wing and harnessed it, you could break through a brick wall. That describes Allie’s brain almost to a tee.

Instead, you decide to shift the conversation. “So how long until your break is over?”

“Big Wig’s out, so whenever I say it is,” she replies.

“You’re a true leader, Allie,” you tease.

She leans back and puts her hooves behind her head. “I earned my position. I get the right to abuse certain privileges if I see fit.”

“What was that?” you ask with a chuckle, not quite sure you heard her right.

“Nothing!” she replies cheerfully as if nothing was off. She drops her hooves back down and stands up. “Let’s go see if those guys need any help.”

A little dread builds in the back of your mind as you remember the trouble they had finding the place with directions. You both trot into the building and look around. However, the two delivery colts are nowhere around. No sign they had dropped off the new game, either.

“Where are they?” you inquire.

Allie snickers. “You don’t think they got lost going around the building, do you?”

You shrug. Given how apt they are with direction, you can’t say you refute the possibility. You walk over to their trolley in hopes to find them. As you draw near, you start to her some hooves shifting about inside, along with accompanying voices.

“Dude, just get the side, I can carry-”

“No, you get the side! I got this!”

Your head droops slightly. Are they serious?!, you think to yourself. So much for reliability. You trot around to the open end of the cart and peer inside. You find the two colts are bickering once again, glaring daggers at one another. They’re busy undoing all the straps holding down the game machine’s box, but still find time to fling insults at one another between each one.

The sound of hooves approaching from behind gets you to pull your head away. Allie has caught up to you and gives you a look that seems to ask what’s going on. You simply roll your eyes in response, turning back into the truck. You step forward a bit and call out to the two stallions. “Hey, guys? Need a hoof with that?”

The two drop their glaring gazes in a flash and turn to you, putting on cheeky smiles. One of them speaks up. “Oh, well, uh, sure! We kinda underestimated how heavy this thing would be.”

“Yeah, we didn’t load it ourselves, the guys at the shop did,” the other colt pitches in. “Had no idea it’d give us this much trouble!”

You decide to keep any snide comments to yourself and nod. “Alright, just slide it over here and lower it onto me, and we can go from there.”

The colts nod in unison and set about the task of sliding the machine forward. You turn your flank to the cart and plant your hooves firmly to the ground. As the machine is slid forward with a grinding hiss on the floor of the cart, Allie trots over to your side and puts a hoof to her chin.

“You sure you can get this?” she asks, concern lingering on her words.

“Would you rather just leave it to these guys?” you whisper with a tiny nod behind you.

“Hey, you didn’t undo all the ones on your side!” you hear one of them shout.

“That was on your side!”

“How can it be on my side when I’m over here!?”

Allie sucks in a little air through her teeth before giving you a pat on the back in confidence. Hearing what you assume is the final strap, its forward progress resumes. When it reaches the end, you call out, “Now tilt it carefully down. When I’ve got it, one of you get the dolly and we’ll wheel it in.”

For a while, you don’t hear anything behind you. No confirmation that they understand, no okay to keep going, not even the sound of them moving the box any further.

Until finally, you hear a single, solitary, “Uh…”

“Please tell me you have a dolly,” you state flatly.

One of them chimes in with, “Well, sometimes my daughter on stormy nights-”

“Not that kind of dolly!” you interrupt, your sleep-deprived patience wearing thin. “A cart of some kind? A board with wheels on it? Anything of the sort?”

“No, we don’t usually use those sorts of things,” the other answers.

“Then how were you planning on getting it in the building and into place!?” you nearly yell in frustration.

“We normally just roll it in,” he explains. “One end over the other.”

“Allie, do you have anything in a storage closet? Something you move supplies with?” you plead.

She shakes her head. “Nothing that would be able to take the weight of that thing.”

You put a hoof over your face as you realize for this new game to have a chance of surviving, then you’re in for the literal long haul.

“Just tip it down. We’ll walk it in,” you command.

“You sure?” one of them asks.

“Yeah, just do it,” you respond. You just want to get this in and over with.

“Can I do anything?” Allie inquires, stepping towards you. “Maybe help, uh, lift it in?”

The hesitation is clear in her voice. “Just get the door. I think we’d just get in the way of each other.”

She gives you a look filled with a mix of relief and apology. Going over to hold the door, you turn back to the delivery stallions. “Alright, let’s get this thing in.”

The creaking wood makes you a little nervous, but hopefully it won’t be too terrible.

“Here it comes!” one of them calls out. Slowly, you feel the crate getting leant down onto your back. As the weight settles, you remember the words of your boss on your first day of the job. Particularly when he dropped a box of lead weights on his hoof.

CELESTIA BUCKING DISCORD ON A POGO STICK!

This thing easily weighs at least 140 kilograms! Your legs nearly buckle under it.

“Wait wait wait, forward and set it down!” you cry out.

Taking whatever steps you can, you manage to get it away from the truck enough to be able to lean it against the ground. You take a couple ragged breaths just from the few seconds of exertion.

“Are you really sure about this, buddy?” one of the movers asks again.

“Y-Yeah…” you say shakily. “Hard part’s over. Just… I’ll be the cart. Pick it up from the back there, lean it against me, and we’ll go slowly,” you explain. “ When I say stop, gently lower back down, okay?”

“On it!” one of the colts calls out.

The weight of the box starts to rise up again, putting more pressure on your back. You can’t look back to see what they’re doing with the width of the box cutting off your view, so you can only hope they don’t have butter hooves. Your legs start to bend a little at the knees as the box rises off the ground slightly, but eventually it stables out.

“Okay, okay,” you say quietly. “Start moving forward, I’ll lead.”

You only hear grunts of seemingly positive nature in response. With no time to lose, you start to shuffle your hooves forward in small steps, taking care to keep your back as straight as possible. The box digs into your skin a bit, with one specific nail in a very precarious spot on your spine, but you can only bite your lip and crawl through the agitation. There is a bit of fumbling about on the back end of the crate that you try to account for with your steps. Hopefully those guys don’t get into another petty argument before you can put this thing down.

Slowly but surely, your steps bring you closer and closer to the back entrance where Allie is waiting with her head peering around the edge of the doorway. Her horn glows its usual blue as she holds the door open as wide as she can with a grin on her face. Her simple smile is strangely reassuring, and only prompts you to take swifter steps. At least, you would, but you don’t exactly trust those guys back there to keep pace.

After a bit of grueling carrying, you reach the door. Allie backs away beyond the wall, giving you more room to walk in. Taking a few glances between the box and the door, you call out to the stallions. “Keep it steady, the box will be a tight fit!”

You hear a snicker.

Your eyes seem to roll of their own accord. “Got it?”

“Y-Yes sir!”

You snort. Allie gives you a look of concern as you’re about to breach the door. You give her a weak smile and focus back on the door in front of you. You very slowly lift a hoof beyond the step up and lift a bit, bringing the box end up with you. The stallions grunt a bit as you rise and you take swifter steps to get the heavier load off of them as quick as you can.

The box makes small scrapes on either side of the doorway with each step you take. You can’t really help it though; all you can manage to do is try to get it through with as few knicks and gashes as you can. You keep your hooves walking in a perfectly straight line down into the backroom, aiming for as little damage as possible.

Eventually, you stop in place once the majority of the box has passed through the door. “Alright, stop! Lower it!”

Without a word out of the stallions, you feel the weight of the box descend until it touches the floor with a clunk!

“Here,” she offers. “Let me hold it up, you get out from under it.”

You wave a hoof, declining her offer as you catch your breath.

She furrows her eyebrows. “Come on. You got it off the truck and this far, let me get it the rest of the way.”

“Nope. Not a chance,” you reply. “There’s simply no way that would happen.”

“What, you think I’m not strong enough?” she asks in a bit of a huff, almost daring you to challenge her in that regard. Her competitive side is showing, but thankfully you don’t have to pick and choose your words for your reasoning.

“Allie, I don’t think you’re not strong enough,” you explain. “You’re just too tall.”

“What?” she asks. It’s true that Allie is taller and lankier than your average pony. She’s almost a full head over you, but then again, you tend to slouch a bit. Allie’s upright, full height everywhere she goes.

“The angle at which these guys would have to lift? They’d be taking almost all of the weight instead of the even dispersal we have now,” you continue, gesturing with a hoof behind you.

“Well, what if I were to crouch down?” she persists.

You shake your head. “Bent while carrying this? Good luck. You’d probably have a tough time keeping it steady like that.”

“Yeah, I vote we go with his plan!” says one of the stallions behind you.

Allie looks disappointed that her offer to help was rejected. There’s not a lot of room to handle this and more would just bring a greater risk of toppling it over.

However, she brings a hoof to her chin for a moment. Eventually, she smirks and brings that hoof up to the cream colored horn beneath the wave of two-tone blue hair.

“How about this?” she offers.

You bite your lip as you think. On the one hoof, an experienced magic user could lighten the load and keep it stable. However, you have rarely seen Allie use magic, even for things like lifting objects or writing. Top on that almost a week of less than an adequate amount of sleep per night, you really have your doubts.

“Whoa, watch it!” you hear on of the two shout as the box suddenly shifts to the left. They can’t even keep it steady when it’s on the ground?

You sigh with desperation. If you’re ever going to get this inside, you need all the help you could get.

“Okay, fine. But just remember, stop immediately if I tell you to. Alright, Allie?” you ask.

She gives a smile and salute. “Just tell me when!”

“When we lift. You guys ready?” you ask behind you.

“Okay, lift!” you call out.

The weight returns onto your back as you begin walking again. A light glows from the box as you feel a slight tingly sensation from it. Allie’s magic makes the box stay still as you move. It even seems a little lighter as she tries to lift some of the burden.

Looking over, you see Allie with her squinting eyes, scrunchy nose, and tongue hanging out the side of her mouth. You would have laughed if you weren’t carrying almost 150 kilograms. .

With her help, you’re actually able to make it all the way to the arcade section. Stopping just short of where you plan on putting the game, you give the command to set the box down.

“Okay, tilt it upright!” you say, pushing back. The two behind you and Allie guide it carefully so it touches down softly.

Stepping away from the crate, you look at your work. Hauled from the truck to here. Had you been at work, you’d probably would have had to make the trip at least six more times. Still, now is enough to let you breath a sigh of relief.

“Oh my, is that the new game?” you hear from behind you. Big Wig steps around the corner and inspects the crate you just brought in. “I certainly didn’t expect it to get here so quickly!”

“Fast delivery and unbeatable service!” the duo say again.

You hear Allie make a noise akin to a guh as your eyes go half-lidded.

“Well bust my britches, boys!” the boss mare says. “That’s probably the fastest we’ve ever gotten one in! I’ll make sure ya get a good review outta this alley!”

Both you and Allie open your mouths to object, but one of the colts suddenly blurts out. “Thank you ma’am! We do our best! But for now, we got a lotta other deliveries to make! Gotta jet!”

After the other colt nods rapidly in agreement, they suddenly bolt for the door, getting caught in the frame as they both try to exit at the same time. After a bit of scuffling, they finally force themselves out and the door slams shut behind them.

You glance over to Allie to find she has her cheeks puffed out with a very displeased look in her eyes. You know that look; she wants to say something, but knows there would be no point.

“Well, I’ll be!” you hear Big Wig pipe in and turn to face her again. “I heard some bumpin’ and scrapin’ comin’ from over here and thought I might need to lend a hoof, but I see ya got everythin’ handled!” she says, tapping the crate with a hoof.

You rub your neck. “Ah, yeah… everything’s under control just fine.” Allie shoots a glare to you with her cheeks still puffed out.

Big Wig nods. “Mhmm! ...Allie, you get stung by some bees or somethin’?”

She stares at her for a second before slowly and dramatically blowing the air out of her cheeks. “Nope. Just… taking a breath.”

The boss chuckles. “Well do it with your lungs, not your cheeks, girl!” She gives the crate another tap with her hoof. “Think y’all could handle settin’ this up for me? I got some more business to take care of in the front.”

You nod. “Yeah, shouldn’t be too much of hassle.”

“Great! I’ll be back in just a few!~” she says, slightly singing the last few words. She turns and trots away out of view around the corner.

You and Allie turn to the box still left waiting to be opened. She glances at you with, “Any ideas?”

“Crowbar or hammer would be best. Have any around?” you ask.

“One is the storage closet, I think,” she replies as she begins to step in said direction. “Just a moment!”

As she takes off, you look at the crate, deciding with side would be best to start. The nails on the wood seem to attach it circularly; the one before attaching it to the one next. This strikes you as strange because it’s ultimately an inferior packing method than just two sets on either side. Although as soon as the phrase ‘inferior packing method’ comes to mind, you remember the two ponies that delivered it.

Stepping up to look at the top, you see that it’s at least attached in a sane manner. Nails all around securing it down. That’d probably be the best place to start.

“Hammer time!” Allie calls out. “You’re lucky. Normally the pony who uses this takes it home with him.

“What’s he use it for?” you ask as you take the hammer and inspect it.

“Well, it’s normally for putting in new base wood under the lanes, but since we’ve had so few problems, I think he used it to crack nuts,” she explains.

Looking at the head, you see some crumbs crushed against the face of it. Good thing that’s not the part you need. The claw looks more than sturdy enough.

“One arcade game, coming up!” you announce as you step up again to wedge the claw into the gap between the wood. With some grunts, some creaking, and a crack here and there, the top of the box slowly raises up and off. Inside, you see the prize.

Now, the phenomenon known as ‘new game smell’ is one you rarely get to experience. However, here and now, you get to look over the top and breathe in the scent of a brand spanking new arcade cabinet.

Mmm. Smells like markers and linen.

“Hey, I want to sniff!” Allie says as she joins you up over the box. She can reach the opening much easier than you can. She even has some ability to put her nose down into the box for a closer whiff.

You giggle as she takes in a long and exaggerated breath through her nose.

“How is it?” you tease.

“Smells like… possibility,” she replies.

That gets a bit more of a laugh out of you as she goes back for another smell. As much as you’d love to get it hooked up as soon as possible, you can’t resist taking one more sniff of such a rare opportunity. Sure, the chemically scent may be killing off a couple brain cells, but you’re sure to lose a lot more to this machine.

“Hoo… alrighty,” you say. “Let’s get this thing out and…” Your voice trails off as you see Allie almost muzzle deep in the box, taking long, deep whiffs. You reach over and give her tail a tug, causing her to yank her head away in surprise. “Let’s get this thing out and set it up before one of us ends up getting high.”

“Oh, yeah, uh, alright,” she responds, coughing into her hoof once.

You shake your head with a quiet chuckle before reaching back down to the hammer. Scooping it up in your hoof, you lift it to the side of the box and wedge it into the corner. With a bit of pressure, the nails squeakily give way, leaving the side awkwardly hinged from the other corner. You move over and force the crowbar into the other end and push, breaking the resistance on this side as well. With both sides open, you manually push down on the flimsy wood, forcing it down as the bottom panel cracks with the pressure. Delicacy is of little issue; the box can be recycled with ease.

After a few more jams of the hammer and splintering of wood, you manage to force down all the sides of the box. Allie giddily bounces on her hooves all the while. A mare of her age shouldn’t be this excited over a relatively simple arcade game, but you can’t exactly say that you aren’t excited either.

You toss aside the high grade foam packaging that is stuffed on every corner of the console and gaze upon the machine in its full glory. The bulk of the machine is painted black while the paneling on the sides bear the bulk of the eye-catching design. Multiple, flashy explosions are depicted upon a cool blue starry background, with lasers penetrating floating stones. A sleek spacecraft is shown as well, right in front of what appears to be a bright star. The sight of it gives you an internal chuckle. The actual game always ends up being a stark contrast to the grandiose flair of the machine.

Among the panel is a plethora of buttons big enough for a hoof to press, yet small enough to fit enough buttons for two players. Above the simple TV like screen embedded behind the glass is a flashy title card depicting the game’s name, Asteroids. The smell of the machine lingers fresh from the woodwork and you can’t help but take another indulgent sniff.

You’re brought back to reality, however, as an overly excited mare grips your shoulders and violently shakes you. “Plug it in already! I gotta play!”

“A-Allie!” you say between bounds of whiplash. “Calm down! Just help me slide it to the wall!”

Her hooves seem to magically teleport from your shoulders to the side of the cabinet for she is ready to push in an instant. Putting down the hammer, you test the weight on the other side to see just how you’re going to get it off the final piece of the box its sitting on. Maybe with a little back and forth tilt-turning, you can do it.

“Okay, we need to lift it off of the bottom of the box,” you explain to Allie. “Just tip and turn it on its edge and it should be easy. Soon as we’re on the floor, it’ll be a straight slide.”

“Roger!” Allie confirms. “Let’s go on three.”

Sounds good. You wake your position and wait for her to begin the countdown so you can start-

“THREE!”

With only a shrill yelp of warning, the machine suddenly tips your direction and catches you completely off guard. Scrambling to keep it from falling over, she pushes it so the front corner is off the box and over the floor. Following her lead, a quick push in the opposite direction gets the other half of the machine off the wood and onto the tile. After that, just one final shove from you both puts it into place among its electronic brethren.

Stepping back with pride, you look to Allie. “I think you forgot a couple numbers,” you say.

“Omitted for the sake of efficiency,” she replies. “Now plug it in before I shake you again.”

You look around the machine and up and down the wall. “Actually, wouldn’t you know where the outlet is better than I would?”

“Yeah, you’d think. And I do. Step aside.” She trots up to the wall as well, looking back and forth. “There it is!” you hear her call out. She leans in and reaches behind the machine before reaching around the machine next to it.

You see the screen flash for a brief moment. You think there’s a little movement on the bottom, but soon enough, the game loads into its default state. A pixelated ship stands in the middle of a field of colorful rocks with the words INSERT COIN displayed. Some fizzling crackles of the old sounds play through the speakers and hum into your ears.

“There we go!” Allie says with excitement in her voice. “Now because you didn’t plug it in, I’m gonna shake you.”

As she leans towards you with her hooves reaching out, you hold up your own defensively. “Wait a moment!” you protest. “Shake me or play the game first?”

Her hooves freeze in the air before turning and landing on the button and joystick of the arcade machine. “You get off easy this time,” she quips and she digs a bit out of the front pocket of her polo shirt. Inserting it into the machine, it drones to life and thrusts her immediately into the game. With full control of the ship, she wastes no time in spinning around and firing random shots that, more often than not, hit nothing.

That’s generally how it begins with her. She takes a couple dozen bits before getting a handle on the controls. After that, it’s just a matter of how long her fortitude will last until she throws her hooves up in acceptance of her high score. Up until that happens, however, nopony will have a snowflake's chance in Tartarus of trying their hoof at the game.

As such, it doesn’t take long before her little ship gets totalled by a passing pebble. She lets out a bah as she dips into her pocket again and fishes out another coin.

“Well,” you interrupt. “Seems to be working just fine then!”

“What makes you think it wouldn’t have?” Allie responds, keeping her eyes glued to the black and white screen.

“Considering the delivery service behind it, I had my doubts…”

She shrugs. “Hm, point made. Just glad you caught the- DARN IT!” She plops another bit in as her ship explodes spectacularly. “I’m glad you caught those guys and sent ’em here. Could have taken them hours to get here. More time where they could have screwed up the game.”

“Oh, right,” you say, rubbing your neck a bit. “Just seems like they needed the help.”

“The help? Hah! You could have liffffFFNNGG!” Clink goes another coin. “You could have lifted this thing by yourself! Never knew you were so beefy!”

“Beefy?” you tilt your head. “I dunno about that, I’m no bigger than other colts.”

“I mean you’re no ripped stud or anything, but I didn’t know you were such a strong guy!” she says between her idle leaning. She always feels the need to mimic what she does in game.

You shrug, directing your gaze elsewhere. “Eh, I’m really not that strong. Not any more than other colts-”

You’re cut off as you hear a pair of hooves slamming down onto the machine. You turn back to her to find her staring at the screen angrily. You look at the game to find her ship is still intact, only to be destroyed by an asteroid moments later. You turn to her in confusion and watch as she whips her head to look at you straight on.

“Why do you do that?” she asks plainly.

“Do what?” you reply.

She pauses for a moment before responding. “We’re going to win the game on Saturday, right?”

Your eyebrow raises at the sudden upbringing of that topic. “Uhh… I want to say yes, but I really don’t see it happening, considering-”

“There, that!” she interjects, pointing a hoof at you. “You always do that!”

You back up just a smidge with a confused look upon your face. “W-What? I always do what?”

“Anytime somepony says something, no matter what it is, you always always ALWAYS disagree!” she says with an accusatory tone. “Why?”

“What? But… no I don’t!” you protest.

“See? Right there!” She points a hoof at you so close, she nearly touches your nose. “Every time! When I say you can bowl, you say you need practice. When I say practice is helping, you’ll say it doesn’t.” Her eyes narrow. “Buying fries, your ability to bowl, play games, or even your own strength, you can’t take a compliment.”

Seeing as disagreeing with her will only make her think she’s furthering her point, you decide to switch up your arguing strategy. “Alright, Allie. If I always disagree with somepony, then can you give me an example? One where I’m not just pointing out the obviously false?” you ask.

She smirks. Oh dear, she may just have something in mind.

“I talked to Treble a couple days ago,” she begins, “and he said that you were completely confident that we could beat Hard Ball.”

You remember that conversation. You said that mostly to keep him from getting even angrier.

“When he said we were doomed, you jumped in and said that we could do it,” Allie explains, her hoof still right in front of your muzzle. “Then, some time after that, I believe you ran into Sea Swirl.”

The memory of that exchange comes back as well.

“You were practically shouting how we were going to win! Any time anypony may have thought we didn’t stand a chance, you told them otherwise.” She punctuates her point by reaching her hoof forward to close the gap and boop your nose.

“Okay, okay…” you admit, leaning back to rub your recently booped nose. “Maybe I’m a little wishy-washy on this thing and I just wanted to keep them from freaking out.”

“But did you believe it?” she presses. “Did you not say with your head held high, hooves firmly on the ground, that we could win?”

“I, uh, maybe?” you offer.

You expect her to scowl at you, roll her eyes, or do something else in disapproval of your non-committal stutter. Instead, what she does is much worse.

She turns toward you, full body and all away from the game. Her mouth is just a small stoic frown, her ears drooped back, and her eyes look at you wide and clear. Not the puppy dog eyes she uses to beg for something, but instead seemingly a genuine sadness that completely betrays her normal happy-go-lucky nature. You almost feel a cold breeze blow by as she slowly places her hoof on your shoulder.

“What if I were to say that we had no chance at all?” she asks. “That all the time we spent practicing, all the nights we lost sleep, were all for nothing?”

“If you said it?” you ask to confirm. She nods and you look away in thought. “Then… I don’t know what I’d say.”

“Why’s that?” she pushes on. “Why am I the one you’d believe if I said we couldn’t win?”

“Because… you’re the one I actually kind of believe when you say we can,” you admit.

She pauses for a moment. You hoped your answer would make her happy, but instead her cold, stony gaze seems to get harder.

“So how do you think I feel?” she finally asks to break the silence. “That when I set up our practice sessions, coach you every step of the way, you still feel the need to downplay yourself? Especially when I hear about you telling others how much you’ve improved, how much better your game is, and how you actually say we’re going to win?”

“I-I’m sorry,” you stutter. “I just... What would you like, Allie? What would you like me to do?”

She thinks for another moment, her eyes actually travelling away for an instant. Looking you in the eye again, she says, “I know you’re tired and I know you know that I’m tired, too. As much as I try to hide it.” She shakes her head. “And every time you question yourself, I can’t help but question, too. Not you, but me and myself. In my ability to teach you. My insistence on practicing being worth it.” She reaches up with her other hoof and places it on your other shoulder. “I just want to hear you say it to me. For all the ponies you’ve told, tell me that we can beat Hard Ball.”

Her voice, suddenly without its usual flair and gusto, somehow becomes more impactful upon reaching your ears. You reach up to put your own hooves on her shoulders, like how she’s holding you. Taking in a deep breath, you prepare yourself to go against every instinct to tell her what she wants to hear.

“We can do it. We can beat Hard Ball.”

No warping inflections, no stuttering, no iffy voice cracking. The sentence is stated plainly and simply.

Slowly, her smile grows back onto her face. Life and color returns to her features as she leans in, wrapping her hooves around your back and pulling you into a hug.

“Thank you,” she says.

Your heart skips a beat as her chest comes in contact with yours. Her body is surprisingly warm and you can feel the faint beat of her heart against you. It takes a second for your brain to register that you should probably hug her back and you slowly move your hooves behind her. You pat her back in the embrace and it only causes her to squeeze you a bit tighter.

You’ve had plenty of hugs from Allie before; usually the simple arm draped over the shoulder, cheek nuzzle to the side of the head variety. Sometimes you would be on the receiving end of a surprise hug from behind whenever she wanted to give you a spook. Only on brief occasions did she grace you with a full blown hug like this one, such as when you win a particularly close game.

However, this one seems… different. Her hooves drape over your shoulders in a much more relaxed fashion. She’s not in her usual chipper attitude, giggling as she squeezes you like a child with a teddy bear. Just a very relaxed, totally at ease embrace. Even her breathing seems serene and you can feel the calm rising and falling of her chest against yours.

Perhaps her serenity is a result of the chat you just had, but it’s not the first down-to-earth discussion you’ve had with her. In those cases she would just rebound with a smile. This is probably the most still you have ever seen her, funnily enough. As odd as it is, it’s surprisingly nice. A powerful contrast to her normal nature and one that provides a much needed relaxant to the situation you’ve found yourself in these last few days. Admittedly, it’s not something you would mind being subjected to again...

The contact is enjoyable, you won’t lie, but the remnants of the crate you just tore apart are still laying on the ground behind Allie. You rub a hoof over her back a bit and her hug lingers just a biiiit longer than you expect. You cough into your hoof to get her attention, causing her to pull her head back a bit and look at you. You point to the dismantled box, directing her gaze at it. She blushes just a tiny bit upon seeing it.

“Oh, right,” she utters, pulling herself off of you with pink cheeks. She releases her grip on you and stands up, pulling you up with a hoof. The two of you walk over to the planks of wood and exchange looks. Allie simply nods with a smile and you return the gesture. You lower your head and brace your hooves as her horn illuminates. One by one, she lifts the planks with her magic, setting them upon your back. She keeps them steady with a small bit of her magic as the majority is focused on lifting the other planks. Without the machine inside them the planks are hardly an issue to hold up.

Walking them out the same way you came in, Allie’s magic opens the doors wide enough for you to walk through without any major shifting of the wood on your back. Looking around the corner is the big green dumpster where most of the waste of the bowling alley ends up.

As you plan on how to get these large pieces of wood from your back the dumpster, you feel them suddenly start to want to pull up. The glow of Allie’s aura is brighter than ever as she attempts to lift it all in. As much as she’d hate to admit it, her magic skills aren’t anywhere near as polished as her bowling skills. Magical training outside of Canterlot is rare and the majority of the unicorn public never see a day of formal training with spells.

Still, this time with a guiding hoof of your own, you lift the now seemingly featherweight planks up over the side, where they fall with a crash as Allie lets go.

“Teamwork!” Allie announces with a little raising of her foreleg.

You give a simple nod in agreement and begin to walk back into the building. As you pass Allie, she holds out a hoof and grabs your own foreleg.

“If I may just see something?” she asks.

The sudden contact surprises you, but you calmly ask, “Sure, what do you want to see?”

“Raise your arm,” she commands. She begins feeling over it with both her hooves, her light touches almost tickling up and down from shoulder to tip. With a few little pokes here and a couple little pokes there, you’re not sure what she’s looking for. “Could you flex for me?” she requests.

Taking in a breath, you bend your arm with a little straining to tighten the muscles. She pokes around again, your foreleg now harder while tensed up. As she’s poking, you think you hear her let out a little ‘Ooooh’. It’s getting hard to keep it flexed, though. It feels like a heat is building and spreading through your arm and you don’t know how long you can stand it.

“Alright,” she says, stopping her poking. You let your arm relax with a sigh of relief. However, she doesn’t take both hooves away. In fact, she grabs your other arm and raises that one as well, forcing you to sit on your haunches.

She holds them so they’re bent inward, but the hooves are above your head. “Flex again, please. Both arms,” she directs. Doing so for her makes the heat return to the arm she was poking at earlier. The other will definitely have a chance to last longer. “Puff out your chest a bit.” Taking in another breath, you stick your chest out as far as you can comfortably manage. “Hold that pose,” she says as she takes a couple steps back.

You hold the flex for a while as Allie looks you up and down, still looking for whatever it is she’s looking for.

“Okay, now say, I am Prince Muscular Awesome: Beefcake of the Univer- hahaha!” She couldn’t even finish her statement with how fast you shut down the pose.

You jerk your hooves back down to the ground, shaking the uncomfortable heat out of them. “Allie, I think the lack of sleep is finally starting to drive you crazy.”

She waves her hoof around nonchalantly. “Naw, this is nothing new to me! I work long into the nights anyway, no big deal!”

You lean back a bit and fold your forelegs. “I dunno Allie, you seem to be forgetting things more often since we started the light night shtick.”

She tilts her head slightly. “Forgetting? What’re you talking about?”

You shrug. “Well, there is a brand new game waiting in the arcade that needs to-”

“MY LEGACY!” she shouts right in your face. A streak of blue and white flies by you in a blur as she bolts for the door, wasting no time in returning to her post.

You chuckle to yourself quietly as you follow her in with a much more casual pace. Passing through the back door that she left open, you round the corner and see her standing stoically at the entrance to the arcade room. Her brow is furrowed and her cheeks are puffy once again. You follow her gaze to the shiny new game she had left before and find a pair of young colts in front of it. The one actively playing is a brown earth colt sporting a green buzzer while his friend is a light gray pegasus with a black mane. Together, they are mashing away at the buttons furiously, blasting meteors left and right.

You smirk. “Looks like somepony shouldn’t have left her post, hm?”

“Mehnyehnyehnyeh!” she says, getting right up to your snout. “But they have twelve lives! What kinda parent gives their kid twelve bits for one arcade game!”

“Allie you do realize that you get more than one life per bit, right?” you inquire.

Her cheeks deflate as her eyes widen a bit. “Wait, what? How many did I put in?”

You shrug again. “I dunno, like five or six?”

Her head drops as she returns to her previous expression again. She drags her hooves over to the bench near the door and plants her rump down, folding her hooves with a scowl like an old miser. “They’ll run out eventually…”

All you can manage to do is quietly laugh and shake your head. “Sometimes I worry about you, girl.”

“So do I, darlin’,” says a voice behind you. Big Wig trots back up as you glance back. “Allie’s been pushin’ herself so hard lately.”

Allie’s still poised still behind the colts on the arcade game, ready to strike as soon as they’re finished. She doesn’t even notice you or Big Wig as you can see her concentrating imaginary beams of ill will into the back of the players’ heads. “Yeah…” you admit. “However, she and I are taking a break tonight.”

“Oh, really now?” Big Wig asks.

“Yep! Going to be all rested up for tomorrow so we can show all our progress,” you explain.

Big Wig taps her chin. “Alrighty then,” she says with a bit of hesitation. “I just hope the two of you will be ready.”

“We still have another week. I have been getting better.” You turn away from Allie to face Big Wig. “Thank you so much for letting us stay late to practice.”

She smiles and gives you a pat on the back. “So long as everything’s in workin’ order the next day. But still, I just can’t help but worry.” She lets out a sigh. “Y’all are such a nice stallion, helpin’ out with this or that. Plus, Allie really likes havin’ you around.” She shakes her head slowly. “Do ya’ think you can really win against Hard Ball? I’d really hate to have to see ya’ go…”

You pause for a moment. “It’s not that-” you begin, but stop yourself. You were about to say something that made it sound like you’re going to lose. However, Allie is within earshot. Whether or not she’s listening now, if her hearing tunes in then everything the two of you hugged for would be wasted.

Turning back to Big Wig, you start over with confidence. “We’ll definitely be able to beat Hard Ball next week,” you state.

Looking up at Allie, her eyes are still focused forward towards the game, but her mouth is up in a tiny smile. Looking back to Big Wig, her face is quite the opposite while looking at Allie.

“Okay. Just don’t push yourself too hard,” she warns as she trots off. Somehow, it almost feels like she wasn’t saying that to you.

A loud, crackly explosion catches your attention.

“One down…” Allie grumbles under her breath.

“You know, you could probably get a lot of work done while you wait,” you offer.

She shakes her head without moving her eyes of the screen, still trying to willing that little ship to crash. “Might lose my place in line,” she replies.

A thought occurs to you. Pulling a bit out of your own pocket, you walk up to the machine beside the two colts. You reach to place it, but decide to ask first in case these two are unaware of common arcade courtesy.

“Hey, uh, don’t mean to interrupt. I’ll make this quick,” you say to get their attention. The one not actively playing looks up at you. “You know what it means if I set my bit up here in the corner of the screen, right?”

“Yeah, you want to play next,” the colt explains. “That’s okay. We just wanted to play the credits somepony already put in here.”

You hear a tiny MMMPHGH from behind you.

“Okay,” you say as you put your bit down. “Good luck!” you call out as you walk away.

They both gives thanks and a small wave in response while you walk back up to Allie.

“So you’re saving a spot for me?” she asks.

“No. You’ve officially lost your place in line. Back to work,” you command, pointing behind the counter.

She looks at you calmly. No smile on her face, but no scowl either. Slowly, she leans down toward you, putting her face to the side of your head.

“...I will end you.”

“That’s nice,” you reply with a shrug.

Thankfully, before she can retort in a manner unbefitting of the present children, Big Wig calls out, “Hey Allie, could ya’ come back here? I could use yer help with somethin’.”

Allie glances back and forth between you and the direction of Big Wig’s voice. She starts to walk over, but not before looking back and mouthing the words ‘This isn’t over’ to you. While she tries to hide it, you can see her start to snicker as she faces away.

Giggling inwardly, you decide you’ve messed with her enough. There are real consequences to pushing Allie too far and you’re probably dangerously close to crossing a line when it comes to a new game. You probably get a huge amount of leeway, considering how close she was to laughing. Good to know she still realizes it’s only a game.

Walking back to the machine, you take your bit back. “Changed my mind,” you explain.

“Okay,” they respond, only half aware of the things outside the realm behind the screen. Yep, these two could become quite the gamers in their future.

Pocketing the bit again, you decide it’s time to head home now that Allie’s doing actual work. The result of the arcade cabinet haul is finally starting to take its toll on your back and legs. The sooner you get home and lay down, the better.

Walking out the door, there’s nothing left but to wait until tomorrow.

Author's Note

Man, why can't we update our solo stories this frequently?

There was going to be another conversation between Gears and Kody here, but it uses some language not suitable for the rating tag on this fic. We ain't classy people.

Big thanks to Cloud Hop for helping us take the hedge trimmers to this still gargantuan chapter!

Chapter One

The sun shines down on the path you trot along. A few stray clouds float in what would otherwise be a clear blue sky. It seemed like this every Saturday morning, thanks to the regular scheduling of the weather control pegasi team. The nice weather certainly makes the trip more pleasant. Soon, your destination comes into view.

With its trademark bowling pin statues bordering the doors and multi-colored signs hanging overhead, the bowling alley is a building that certainly stands out among the rustic houses around it. The establishment is a familiar landmark to you, as you make it a point to visit at least once a week. You have grown to be a regular among the staff there. Being on the good side of one of the managers herself helped out a bit, too.

Pulling open the door and walking inside, you are immediately hit with the smell of wax and the industrial air conditioning always set one or two degrees below comfort level. Both of these things you had become well accustomed with as you look down the lanes with ponies bowling on several of them. Amidst the bright light and sounds of falling pins, a certain pony catches your eye, sitting at a table two lanes from the end.

Even if it weren’t for her ice blue mane and cream colored coat, her height alone would be enough to catch your eye. From where she sits, she easily stands out among the other ponies. As she gets to her hooves, her iconic black and purple shirt comes into view. Watching some other ponies bowl, she waits with a small smile on her face, no doubt itching to get her turn.

You would have the pleasure of joining her soon enough, but first you make your way to the concession stand. The red older mare waiting to take orders meets you with a smile.

“Well, hey there! The usual?” she asks.

“Yes please, ma’am,” you say with a nod. You take out the amount of bits for the purchase and slide them across the counter. She picks them up with a swipe of her hoof and dumps them into the cash register which closes with a rusty DING!

“Two orders of fries, coming right up!” she says before turning around, her grayish green mane swinging around her neck.

Giving her a few minutes to get those fries finished, you head over to the ball racks to select your weapon of choice. Each of the spheres are polished to perfection and sport coats of different colors. Glancing over each of them, you settle on a fifteen-pound ball with an orange sheen. With the new ball in tow, you head over to the horseshoe rack and pick up a pair that are just your size. The shoes here aren’t exactly of the highest quality, but they get the job done.

You place them on your hooves and pick up your ball in a foreleg. You walk back to the concession stand to see your fries already hot and ready for you to pick up. They must have been cooking and nearly done before you got there. Their salty aroma grows stronger as you get near.

“Enjoy and have a good day!” says the mare behind the counter. You give her a quick word of thanks before picking up the basket carefully with your mouth, their smell and heat nearly overwhelming. Placing the two fry baskets on your back with a very experienced sense of balance, you carefully turn around and start walking towards lane seventeen.

Taking caution to avoid the other ponies in your path and all of the children running to the arcade machines, you manage to reach the lane without dumping any of your precious cargo. Setting the fries onto a nearby table, you head over to the rest of the group. The two members who aren’t actively bowling give you a nod in greeting.

Looking up, you quickly find out why they remain silent. The leader of the group herself is taking her bowl. You know how she is. When her turn is up, she demands absolute concentration with no distractions. At least, as much as she can get in a hectic bowling alley. With the ball in her hooves, she opts to bowl manually rather than use her magic. She finds it’s much more “in depth” that way.

You sit back for a moment and watch. She holds the ball up to her chest with her hoof. When she begins to lean forward, you count along the steps in her approach.

One. Two. Three. Four... FIVE!

The pause before the final step gives way to her throw as the ball rolls down her foreleg and off her hoof with a quick snap. Landing with a dull thud, it goes to the side slightly before making a clean hook towards the cluster of pins. As good as the shot looks, she takes a step back and to the side. Right as the ball makes contact, she gives a shake of her flank down the alley, perfectly timed with the crash of all the pins falling.

She always had cute mannerisms like that when she really gets into the game. You can’t restrain yourself from letting out a chuckle at her little display. Her ears perk up at the sound of your laughter and she turns around. Upon her eyes meeting yours, her face brightens considerably. She begins to trot towards you as she speaks.

“Hey, you’re here!” she says cheerily. “Took you long enough!”

“I didn’t realize I had a strict schedule.” you reply jokingly.

“Isn’t that the whole point of a practice session, dummy?” she says while playfully ruffling your mane. “To be on time?”

“Heh, I suppose, and Celestia knows I need it!”

She rolls her eyes before promptly trotting over to the baskets of fries you brought over

The pony currently snacking on the fries is none other than Allie Way. You met here when teams were being assigned for the Ponyville Bowling League. The two of you were assigned together, and what luck you had; she just so happens to be the manager of the alley! Although your skills don’t compare to hers in any way whatsoever, the two of you quickly became friends. She always makes sure to give you praise when you manage a good bowl, and helps you out when you begin to fall behind. Her and the praise she gives are among the few things that inspire you to stick with the team.

Your other partners? Not so much.

“You know...” begins Treble, looking out from under his black mane with his dark blue hoof pointing at the food you’ve provided. “By getting these salty things, the only thing you’re really doing is making us all need to buy drinks.”

“Well, if you don’t want any, don’t have them,” Allie says, taking one and promptly popping it in her mouth. As soon as she swallows, she turns to you and says, “Thanks for the fries. Really appreciate you buying them every time we meet.”

A small mumble of agreement comes from Sea Swirl beside her. Treble grumbles out a thank you himself before reaching for a fry.

“Ah, it’s nothing.” you reassure them. “The least I could do, right?”

“Emphasis on least.” Treble whispers.

“Hey, at least he offers to buy for us. When was the last time you brought us something to eat, hm?” Allie quips.

The stallion grumbles in response. “I gotta bowl...”

She gives him a smug grin as he stands for his turn. The pony she’s currently staring down is Treble. He was assigned to your team at the beginning of the season. Needless to say, he isn’t the happiest of campers. He’s not a shabby bowler, but he still pales in comparison to Allie. As his name and cutie mark suggest, he’s better with music. He’s a downer and likes to complain a lot, but he doesn’t really insult anypony.

However, you’ve noticed a slight divide in your team. You and Allie often pair together, while Treble joins up with Sea Swirl, the last member of the squad. The soft purple unicorn isn’t too outspoken and often just goes with the flow, only becoming fully vocal when she gets a bit too excited over something. Having blown in from the oceanside city of New Orreins, she was a bit apprehensive of the idea of joining a team. Still, she ended up with your squadron in the end, albeit with some reluctance. She’s a nice girl once you get to know her, though.

Once Treble turns his gaze away from her, you watch as the mare gives him a cold glare to his back. She oftentimes gets a bit upset with him, but nothing to start a war over. Allie then turns her attention back to you.

You raise an eyebrow. “Any reason he seems extra grumpy today?” you ask in a low voice.

Allie chuckles. “We made a bet before you came in. See who could get the best score in three frames.” The idea that Treble would challenge Allie nearly makes you giggle in of itself. “And this is his last frame and he’s down by...” She looks to the ceiling briefly and taps her hoof against the table. Her lips move slightly as she does her mental arithmetic. “Twelve pins.”

“Is he coming off a mark?” you ask. Only with a previous strike or spare could Treble hope to win.

Allie’s smile grows a bit wider as she slowly shakes her head. “He’s already lost, but you know how stubborn he is.”

As if on cue, the sound of pins crashing down rings in your ears. You look down the lane and count three pins still standing in a split. Treble lets out a silent sigh, and you watch as he picks his ball back up the moment it returns. Taking almost no time to prep himself, he lets the ball loose onto the lane once more. Just as it reaches its target, it barely grazes one of the pins on the left, leaving the other two untouched. You chuckle a bit as he stamps his hoof slightly in anger.

“Welp, he lost.” Allie states plainly.

“Should I really be surprised?” you ask jokingly.

She giggles a bit before responding. “You’re such a flatterer!” Before she can say anymore, the stallion in question trots up to the two of you, grumbling under his breath all the while. Allie gives him her smug smile again. “You know the deal. Go on, hot shot.” She then playfully rubs his cheek with a hoof. “Treat her like a real sweetheart!”

He gives her a cold glare for a few seconds before putting on a painfully obvious fake smile. As he trots away, you give Allie a confused expression.

“What was that about?” you ask. She doesn’t respond, but simply puts her chin on her hoof before pointing towards the concession stand you were at moments ago.

Treble walks up to it and puts his foreleg on the counter. You try to make out the words coming from his strained grin. However, the noise of the alley around you is too loud for you to hear what he’s saying.

Suddenly, a cup of soda flies out from behind the counter and pelts Treble square in the face. The surprise causes you to flinch back a bit and Allie bursts out in riotous laughter. As he returns to the table you notice the soda cup still in his mane. He sits back down with a deeper scowl than normal, directed at nothing.

“Well, there’s the drink you wanted!” Allie says in between her laughing fits. Her laughter is infectious, causing you to let out a few chuckles as well at your teammate’s expense. Even Sea Swirl cracks a smile, but turns away.

“What did you make him do?” you ask Allie.

“Oh, nothing much. Just had him go up there and give ol’ Dinah a little bit of wooing!” she replies teasingly. “And from the look of things, it went pretty well, huh?”

“Yes, I just had to profess my undying love for her.” Treble says through gritted teeth before slumping down in his chair.

You share another laugh will Allie at his attitude. “That seems a little harsh, huh?” you ask.

“Nah, I’ve had him do worse, you know that!” she says.

“Oh, I meant for Dinah over there. She didn’t deserve that!” you say jokingly. The scowl on Treble’s face deepens.

Allie snickers a bit before responding. “You’re right. I should apologize to her. Maybe I’ll give her a little bonus next paycheck.” she says.

“Although I have to admit,” Treble starts, prompting you and Allie to turn back to him. “It does feel good to not have to keep my feelings inside.”

You chuckle a bit. “I didn’t take you for the romantic type, Treble!” He simply closes his eyes, not responding. As you fight to stop your chuckles, you look over to Allie who has stopped laughing.

“Hey, hurry up and throw a few practice balls,” Allie says, turning back to you. “They should be starting any-”

“Listen up, everypony!”

“...moment,” Allie finishes, slightly deflated by the interruption.

In the center of the area behind the lanes stands the owner of the bowling alley. A light brown mare with too much makeup and huge green earrings. You don’t know her real name, but everypony around calls her ‘Big Wig’ due to her really tall red mane. It’s a nickname she takes in good humor. She is also the main administrator behind the bowling league you all are a part of.

“Now, as you all know, we’ve just passed the season’s halfway point,” the owner says. “It’s still anypony’s game for the honor of league champion for the season! Now get ready to go out there and bowl your hearts out!”

“Pfft. Anypony’s game?” says Treble. “Not likely.”

“Hey, it’s possible,” you say.

It was the truth. The league operated on a handicap system that takes the bowler’s average game and adds a bonus to bring it up to a score of two hundred. Anypony who consistently bowled over that wouldn’t get such an advantage. However, for those with room to improve, it was all about beating your own average to boost your personal score and your team’s ranking.

With a clipboard in her hooves, Big Wig begins to look over her papers. “It seems like every team has checked in! I hope none of you have anywhere to be soon, ‘cause today is gonna be one big ol’ bowl-a-thon!” Many of the other bowlers erupt into a roar of cheers and applause, causing the mare’s face to brighten exponentially. “Alright everypony, you know the drill! Get to your stations and prepare for your games! We’ll be starting shortly!”

As the other teams go about their business, you turn your attention back to Allie. She has that excited shimmer in her eyes. “Ohh, I can’t wait! I hope you’re ready for this!” she says, as she fidgets on her hooves.

“Heh, yeah, about as ready as I’ll ever be!” you respond.

“Still,” she starts, her face fading into a slight pout. “I kind of wished that we could’ve gotten a bit of practice in with you.”

A sudden pang of guilt running through you, you avert your eyes from hers. “I know, I know, and I’m sorry. I should’ve gotten here earlier.” You bring your eyes back to meet hers. “I promise, I’ll make it up to you at the next practice session.

She looks into your eyes for a brief moment before her pout slowly grows into a smile. Just as she opens her mouth to respond, another voice cuts in.

“HA! With how this is gonna go down, y’all aren’t gonna need another practice session!”

Oh, great, you think to yourself. You know that voice all too well.

“You idiot!” barks another familiar yet less than welcome pony. “That ain’t an insult at all!”

Your eyes flash over to your teammates. Allie is staring straight ahead at nothing as if she’s not acknowledging them, with the exception of her missing smile and furrowed brow. Treble sighs as his head sinks down towards the table, and Sea Swirl seems to be slowly willing herself smaller and smaller.

Before you realize it, a white foreleg reaches across your table and steals a rather large hoofful of fries from one of the baskets. The rather large offending stallion tilts his head upward, his brown mane spilling back and letting the fries fall into his mouth.

“Mnnow... Whad he’sf try-igg to fhay...” he says while chewing. With a big gulp, he clears his throat. “You guys suck and no amount of practice will help you get into first place by the end of the season.”

Nopony on your team moves with the exception of Allie who begins to bear her teeth with a low growl.

“Hey, we don’t care about winning. We’re just here to bowl,” you say, hoping to help this blow over as painlessly as possible.

“If y’all don’t care about it, then why don’t ya just skedaddle and let the pros have their day, eh?” he says, his thick accent clear as day.

“Because, Hard Ball, we are here to play in the league just like anypony else.” Allie speaks up. “Unlike you though, not everypony cares about the rankings.”

He lets out a loud snort. “If ya ain’t in it to win it, what’s the point?” He puts a hoof to his mouth as his eyes go wide. “Oh, right, I forgot. Y’all are a special case, right?”

Allie arches an eyebrow. “What’s that supposed to mean?” So much for letting this pass peacefully...

“Y’all serve as a reminder.” He gives you a snide glare. “A reminder that nopony is as bad as this deadbeat.” One of his cronies, a yellow and also brown-maned pony known as Pin Head, begins to chuckle deeply behind him.

“Go to your lane...” Allie says through clenched teeth. “Or I will slap a penalty on your team as soon I get my hooves on the roster list!”

“Pfft,” he responds. “It’s always the same. Ya just can’t admit that he’s a right awful bowler, so ya gotta threaten to abuse your manager position whenever it’s mentioned.”

“I won’t warn you again. I will not tolerate you saying any other bowler here is awful,” she snarls.

“Well I don’t have to; his scorecards do that!” he says with another wicked chuckle.

“GET. TO. YOUR. LANE.” Allie raises a hoof up as she talks. Whether she’s pointing down the alley or winding up to smack him is anypony’s guess.

Thankfully, he finally takes the hint and begins walking down to the first available lane several steps away, still chortling as they go. They begin to unpack their things as you turn to Allie who sits down heavily into her chair with a frustrated huff. She blows away a bang of hair that falls in front of her face as your other teammates begin to look back up again.

“Hmph.” Treble utters. “What a hardass.”

Allie lets out a haggard sigh. “As long as he keeps quiet and keeps to himself, we don’t need to worry about him.”

You and Sea Swirl nod in agreement. In the time you’ve spent in this alley, nopony has given you more trouble than Hard Ball. He always singled out your party specifically, for whatever reason. You’ve come to the conclusion that he is nothing but a blowhard and your team has come to agreement with you.

“Hey,” you start. “Let’s just get to work. The sooner we get started, the sooner we can hit up the arcade games!” you say, trying to get them to perk up. You know how badly Allie wants to thrash you for beating her in Street Fighter II: The Equestria Warrior last week. It was a really close game in which you had barely eeked out a victory. She had demanded a rematch right then and there, but unfortunately the game had taken the last of your on hoof bits.

Treble and Sea nod and stand up, heading to their bowling balls. Allie remains seated with her eyes closed, breathing a little heavier than usual. You trot over to her and clear your throat, catching her attention. As her eyes open and snap to you, you offer her a hoof. Her eyes dart between your hoof and your eyes just once before she takes another deep breath.

“Are you okay?” you ask.

“Yeah...” she says with a sigh. She reaches over and gives you a little hoofshake. “You know me, though. There are three things I hate in this world.”

“Braggarts, spiders, and diet soda,” the two of you say in unison. Allie giggles as you both begin to smile again.

“But the fact that he makes it a point to mess with us each and every time...” she shakes her head. “It begins to wear on me and I’m not even the one he’s insulting.” She looks to you again. “Seriously, how can you just take that kind of abuse like that?”

“I just try to not let it get to me,” you say with a shrug. “And let’s be honest, I’m not really the best bowler anyway-”

“Oh, no no no,” Allie says, holding up a hoof to stop you. “I wouldn’t let Hard Ball come down on you, and I’m not about to let you come down on yourself.”

Your conversation is interrupted by the crash of a ball hitting pins. You both look up to see Treble in front of the lane where all but two pins remain. Using her magic, Allie pulls out a scorecard and pencil from the little slot underneath the desk and begins marking down his score.

“I’m just saying,” you start. “That they have a balance system for the teams here for a reason.”

“Yes, it’s to help ponies improve their skills by working with the better players.” she retorts, lowering her pencil. “And you have been getting better! I’m sure of it! In fact...” She turns her gaze over to Treble, who has just finished up his turn, ending off with a spare. She turns back to you with an eager smile. “Why don’t you demonstrate?”

Your feel your eyes widen at her request. Looking down the track, you watch as a fresh set of pins descend onto the end of the alley, waiting to be knocked down. A pang of nervousness runs through you as you give her an uncertain nod. Her smile doesn’t fade in the slightest, even with your uneasy expression.

You trot over to the ball rack and pick up your ball. As you ready to take your turn, Treble trots past you, heading back to his seat. As he passes, you catch him giving you his trademark half-lidded stare. You step up to the lane, staring down the wooden surface to the targets at its end.

Alright, you think to yourself, taking a deep breath. You’ve done this plenty of times. Just step it up...and don’t suck.

Releasing the breath through your nose slowly, you raise the ball up against your chest. Standing up straight, you go through your approach in your mind while you let the pony in the lane next to you go first. You watch their ball in the corner of your vision. It travels straight and connects with the group of pins, right of the center, knocking down a solid six of them.

Giving a quick lick of your lips, you take your first step, counting in your head. Treble favored a four step approach while Sea Swirl only used three. You, however, try to recreate Allie’s five step approach, feeling as it’s best to learn from the master. She’s even given you a few tips about it when you’ve asked.

One, two, three... four, fivesixseven-

The ball awkwardly flies out of your hoof as you stumble and try to keep from falling face first onto the alley itself. With a hefty WHUMP it begins its roll. You’ve always compared the sound of a rolling bowling ball to that of a drumroll, because no matter how good a shot looks, you never know until it hits the pins.

Unfortunately, the sound you hear mere moments after the drumroll began is a series of clunks and thumps. You look up and, sure enough, your ball is now travelling down the left side gutter that reaches the end with a sad and empty ker-plunk.

Replacing the drumroll is the mocking sound of a descending trombone. You feel a rock settle in your stomach as you turn around to face your teammates. Treble sits with his usual half-lidded eyes and the corners of his mouth tugged down. Sea Swirl keeps her head low, avoiding eye-contact. Allie stands with a strained smile on her face, her guise poorly hiding her embarrassment for you.

While the faces aren’t making you feel any better, it’s the voices you’re hearing that are making that rock in your belly feel like a boulder. The group of stallions a few lanes away are snickering madly. Most of them, anyway. Hard Ball is guffawing generously at your attempt.

This is gonna be a long day...