Last Ditch

Chapter Three:

Spike was out on a dirt road in the country, test-driving the Camaro he had aquired. The car performed perfectly, even in the corners, which was odd for a muscle car. Twilight was in the passenger seat, coaching Spike on drifting the dirt roads.

"Okay," she instructed, "when you come into the corner here....you've got to punch the throttle....Okay,  that was pretty good, accept for one little thing-"

"Twi?" he interrupted quizically, "you're a LIBRARIAN! How the heck do you know so much about drifting?"

"Long story," Twilight replied dismissively, "now, keep on trying, you're doing great."

After a while, Spike had gotten the hang of drifting. He was able to perform magnificent powerslides over long sweeping corners, and he and Twilight both knew, they were going to win.

It turns out, Fleetwood knew that too.

Later on, Spike and Twilight were on their way back from the drifting lesson, when a black Lincoln Continental began to follow them.

"Steady as she goes, fella," Wilcox told Snails, "if you go too fast, we could hit them!"

"Well," he replied, "Isn't that the plan?"

"No, we just have to watch them for a while, and when they leave, we'll drag the Camaro up and pull it out!"'

Twilight noticed the Lincoln, and pointed it out to Spike.

"Say, Spike," she said, winking, "how about we test your driving skills out?"

"Yea, Twi," he winked back slyly, keeping one eye on the Lincoln, "that sounds like a swell idea!"

Spike stomped on the gas, and roared away, leaving his surveillants in the dust.

"Come on," Wilcox yelled, "AFTER THEM!"

****

Before you knew it, the two cars were swerving down an old country road, the Camaro's enormous power bogging it down on the slippery dirt, although the underpowered Continental was faring no better.

"Come on, Snails!" Snips cried, "they're right there! Quit sliding, and run them off the road!"

"Easier said than done!" Snails fired back, being jolted out of his seat by another bump.

Little did the Spike know he was nearing a speedtrap. On duty at the speedtrap was none other than Sheriff Trigger Stetson.

"Hey, Quince," he said to his partner, waking him from a nap and pointing to the two cars rocketing by, "time to go to work!"

The old Dodge Coronet Police Cruiser rattled to life, and slid onto the road, lights flashing.

"We've got company!" Twilight screamed, pointing to the cruiser.

Pretty soon, there were three police cruisers on their tail.

"Oh, man!" Wilcox sobbed, "We're going to jail!" he then turned to Snails. "MOVE IT!"

The Lincoln roared, and veered off onto a sidestreet, one of the black-and-whites following. The remaining two focused Spike, and came up on both sides of him. One PIT manuevered him and he spun into a tree.

Spike and Twilight calmly got out, and looked at the damage to the car.

"Oh, no!" Spike moaned, pointing to steam venting from under the Chevy's crumpled hood, "now we don't have a car! Fleetwood's gonna win for sure!"

The police cruisers came around the corner, sirens wailing, and stopped next to Spike.

"Put your hands in the air!" Trigger yelled, drawing his gun, "you're under arrest for speeding, reckless driving, and resisting arrest!"

"Calm down, 'Stets!" Quince laughed, "they'll come quietly after the fight they put up!"

Meanwhile, Wilcox and company hid the Lincoln under a bush as the other cop screamed past.

"Whew!" he sighed, "That was a close one!"

"Yeah," Snips added, "I've been to jail too many times 'cause of other things to go again!"

"Well, that takes care of the Camaro! What do we do now, Will?"

"Just go back to Fleet and tell him, I guess."

Fleetwood was delighted at the news.

"I can already see Rarity and me, walking down the aisle!" he laughed.

Later that night, Spike and Rarity had to sort out the charges with Police Chief Silverstar.

"So, Ms. Sparkle," he asked dubiously, "Can you afford to pay the charges for damaging several police vehicles?"

"No, sir," she replied solemnly.

"Then your car will be impounded. Boys, get that sorry heap of a muscle car outta her!"

As they left the courthouse, Spike finally broke down.

"It's no use trying anymore," Spike bawled, "I'm never going to be loved!"

"Spike," Twilight promised, "We are going to win. Bad guys like Fleetwood never win, and Celestia knows you're due for a victory!"

"But," he sniffled, "What're we going to use for a car?"

"Spike," his metaphorical mother beamed, "I have a surprise for you." She walked over to their Volvo and popped the hood to reveal a snarling, magic-injected V-6, glowing in a menacing purple aura.

"This car is how I know so much about drifting," she explained, "Way back when I was in college, I'd show up at Celestia's Pass and smoke the competition in this beast!"

Spike was speechless. His seemingly-boring friend was actually an expirienced street racer. It was almost as surprising as seeing how horrible Fleetwood was. He may have said this a lot, but he knew it this time: Rarity would see the good in him. Even if he lost, she was definitely going to see through Fleetwood's nice-guy act, and who would be there for her? The Camaro was down for the count, but he had a new hope. Next stop: Le Trajet De'Lamour!