Last Ditch

Chapter 12: Le Trajet De'Lamour

On the day of the big race, Fleetwood waited on the corner of Derwent's Liquor on Ponyville's South Side. This was a common waiting place for taxis, and not long after he arrived, he flagged down a passing Yellow Cab.

"Hello, Mr. Marathon," he said calmly to the cabbie as he got in, "I have a little job for you."

"Alright, Fleet," he sighed, "What kind of job? It has to be pretty dangerous, judging that you've called me by my first name since Pony Kindergarten!"

"Oh, nothing, Checker," Fleetwood lied, "It's just, I have this friend, you see? And I was wondering if you could take your Peterbilt and squash him for me!"

"WHAT?!" Checker was shocked that his long-time friend would request such an act. He had always known Fleetwood as being easily angered, but never go so far to hurt somepony, except when he was in a barfight. "You're crazy!" he replied, "There's no way I'll do it!"

"Calm down, Checker!" Fleetwood laughed, "I'm kidding! I just want you to tail him with your cab for a while to make sure I win this little race...."

"NEVER joke like that again, Fleet!" Checker snapped back, "I'll do it, how much are you paying?"

"Oh, I don't know, 4,000 Bits...."

"FOUR THOUSAND BITS?!" Checker began to shake his friend's hoof vigerously, "You've got yourself a deal!"

"My plan is coming together perfectly!" Fleetwood thought, "I'm sure to win now, if Spike shows up at all!" He than began to laugh a dark, evil, maniacal laugh, until Checker covered his mouth with his hoof.

"Hey," he said, "No insidious laughing in my cab, or else NO RIDE FOR YOU!"

Spike and Fleetwood were to meet on a windblown slope overlooking Lake Wanahoova, a very beautiful spot, but they couldn't notice that at the moment. When he got there, Fleetwood immediately began tuning his LeSabre, aided skillfully by Mel and Wilcox, while Rarity looked out across the lake.

"What's the matter, honey?" Fleetwood chuckled, "Can't stomach the thought of Spikey-Wikey getting humiliated?"

"You know, Fleetwood, I have a say in this too!" Rarity replied in a frustrated tone, "What if you win and I don't want to be with you?"

"Then you'll just have to suck it up!" Fleetwood said menacingly, "The winner gets the girl, and that's that!"

"Oh, Spike," she whispered to herself, "You'd better finish first!"

"HEY, MR. BROUGHAM!" Wilcox yelled over the wind, "I SEE A CAR!"

"It can't be!" Then, Fleetwood exploded into a fit of laughter as he spotted Twilight's Volvo, sporting racing numbers and several modifications for maximum downforce, lumbering up the hill.

"Is this the morning bus to Fillydelphia?" he jeered as they came to a stop next to his LeSabre.

"Quite the contrary, Mr. Brougham," Spike said smoothly in a mock british accent, "This is the car that's going to be quite literally beating your car today."

"Well see about that, Mr. Swedish Station Wagon," Fleetwood muttered to himself, "Hey, dad, wanna come with me!"

"Fleetwood," the elderly pony sighed, "I can't. This time, you've gone too far: You not only wrecked a perfectly good Camaro, the Camaro I gave you for your 17th birthday, you broke too many hearts with your "testing the water" charade! And besides, I'm getting too old to be goin' on joyrides like last night!"

"Well, fine!" Fleetwood replied, slightly shaken by the intervention, "Mel, get in the car. Wilcox," he gestured to a flat black Ford Custom, "You drive Ms. Rarity to the finish line."

Mel trotted over to the LeSabre, taking his time while Wilcox, fueled by the oppertunity to be alone with such a beautiful mare and feeling a sense of urgency to complete Fleetwood's orders, sprinted over to the Ford, and entered Dukes of Hazzard style, not even noticing the windows were up as he smashed through the glass.

"Alright," Fleetwood hollered, straining to be heard above the howling wind, "This is an open race toward Canterlot and back! Any route can be used! The person back here first! Ready? GO!"

The two cars' tires squealed as they raced off the line, the LeSabre taking an early lead, but as they neared the long winding curve down the hill, the Volvo blew past, leaving Fleetwood bewildered.

"HOW CAN IT GO SO FAST?!" he screamed, letting go of the steering wheel to shake Mel.

Soon, the two cars past another police speedtrap, this one at Plywood Mill Number 2. On duty this time was Flegel, enjoying a sandwich when the they sped around the corner.

"Alright, Dolly," he muttered to his cruiser, throwing the sandwich atop the sun visor, "Let's do this!"

The cruiser lurched onto the road, and sprung into action. Flegel spared no expense in trying to run Fleetwood off the road, only to meet stiff opposition. The LeSabre was much more powerful than the Fury, which was easily flicked off the road.

"Attention all units!" Flegel sputtered from the ditch which he was in, "I am in pursuit of two cars, vehicles are a 1985 Volvo 945 Turbo and a 1951 General Motors LeSabre Concept! I need two units to go after them, and somepony to get me out of this ditch!"

"Roger that, Flegel," the dispatcher replied, "Units are on their way!"

Spike was side-by-side with Fleetwood, until he swerved onto a side road, and dissapeared.

"Where did he go?" he muttered to himself, "Hey, Twilight, what does the map say about where we're going?"

"We're right on track," Twilight said back excitedly, "If we merge onto Equestrian Highway 175, we'll be in Canterlot in two hours!"

After a while, a Dodge Monaco discovered Flegel, and helped pull his cruiser out of the roadside ditch in which he was stranded.

"Thanks!" he called as the Monaco sped off, it's police lights flashing. He raced after the other cop, and together, they began to hunt down Spike and company. After a few minutes, they found him, and gave chase.

Spike had his pedal to the floor, the police breathing hard down his neck. He struggled to control the car in a drift as he entered Equestrian Highway 175. Flegel and his new friend obviously had trouble with the curve as well, as Flegel busted through a guardrail, and raced over the grass straight onto the freeway. He then regained control, and caught up to Spike and the Monaco, which were now side by side.

"Attention, motorist!" The Monaco's outside speaker boomed, "Pull your vehicle over to the side of the road!"

"No way, Jose!" Spike hollered back over the noise of the siren and both their engines, "I'm doing this for love!"

The Volvo then began to pull away, leaving the Dodge far behind. By the time Flegel had caught up to him, Spike was far out of sight.

"Where did he go?" Flegel panicked, "Where did he go?"

"Calm down, man!" The pony driving the Monaco laughed over the radio, "He's gotta be somewhere on the highway. The only thing we have to worry about is catching up to him!"

Meanwhile, Office Trigger Stetson was listening to the conversation on his office C/B.

"Hey, Flegel, Kirkland," he interrupted hastily, "Call in everypony you know to block him off! Me and Quince are on our way!" He then rounded Quince up, and the two ran to their Corvette interceptor.

"I'll be damned if this guy gets away!" Trigger growled, starting the police cruiser. He shifted into first, and the Vette zoomed away, siren screaming.

While this happened, Fleetwood was feeling very confident. He was taking a shortcut he knew from his days as a moonrunner, and he had heard the commotion on the radio. He thought that he was going to win, but when he got to a bridge that overlooked the freeway, he gawked in awe, seeing that Spike had just passed.

"Mel," he cried, "Are you sure you tuned the LeSabre this morning?!"

"Yeah, yeah," Mel lied, "I did."

It turned out that Mel was routing for Spike, so he hadn't tuned Fleetwood's car properly to give him an edge.

He was even more surprised to see eight Black, and whites following, sirens whooping, red lights flashing everywhere. "If this can't stop him," he thought, "Only one thing can."

Meanwhile, Flegel and his friend were panicking, unable to catch up with the rediculous-looking little Volvo.

"Attention all units!" Flegel cried over the radio, "I need EVERYPONY on this call! Vehicle is a 1985 Volvo 945 Station Wagon! Last seen near the Beuller Interchange!

A cop in Fillydelphia heard this, and ran to his car.

A cop in Canterlot raced out of the car wash after hearing the grave transmission.

After a long time, nearly every police officer in Equestria had stopped what they were doing, and joined the hunt for Spike.

Back in Canterlot, a mare and a stallion walked slowly around two strangely-marked Ford Galaxie cruisers, while a mechanic looked onward.

"So, Chub," the mare spoke up, blowing a bubblegum bubble, "What are we looking at here?"

"Two top-of-the-line, experimental magic-injected, turbine-powered Ford's," he replied, giving them a final look-over.

"You know," the stallion suggested, "There's a dragon-hunt going on outside Bueller, maybe we could test 'em out there?"

"You kidding?" Chub laughed, "Bueller's more than an hour away!"

"An hour? That's it?" The mare ran over to the police cruisers, and motioned for the stallion to get in the other, "Come on, Charlie!" she called playfully, "Time's a-wastin'!"

The two cruisers pulled out of the shop, their turbines screaming, and roared onto the highway.

"You'd better have an energy-drink, Charlie!" the mare warned, "This is gonna be a long trip."