My Little Brony: Fanships are Tragic, Chapter One: Guttertrash (Gutterguy X Brainblow Trash) Page 1-
DanielsJack let out a long sigh, feeling the steady burn of his hard apple whiskey as its final remnants simmered in his throat. It was his second bottle this morning, but seeing as how he'd practically built up an immunity to the stuff (or just hadn't been sober in nigh on seven years, he couldn't be sure which), it still wasn't enough for him to really feel the effects.
He lounged on the porch of Bronyburg's only operating pawn shop, sniffling through a slight cold and the scents of manure, while basking in the chill morning air. Moonshine Yokels crouched some distance away, muzzle pressed deep into a book, as usual. Together, they were waiting for Scarcity, who was inside, where he had sworn to sit it out and not leave that building until they had sold him another firearm and to the stockyard with what his background checks might turn up! That he still hadn't come out was promising, but the pawn shop was strict about the three day waiting period, no matter how much you might bribe them to overlook your slight recurring history of violent crime, so DanielsJack and Moonshine didn't expect they would be going anywhere anytime soon.
And that meant that DanielsJack was bored.
And that Moonshine wasn't going to get much reading done.
Moonshine sighed as he turned the page. "What is it, DanielsJack?"
"Whatcha' readin'?" DanielsJack asked.
"Lord of the Reigns," Moonshine said.
DanielsJack thought this over for a moment. "Is that one o' them, uh, special types of readin' for when-?"
"It's a fantasy book," Moonshine said, cutting off whatever mindnumbing misinterpretation of the title DanielsJack's highly chemically impaired mind had been able to come up with.
DanielsJack nodded. "Right," he said, "That's what I thought." Moonshine looked up at him suspiciously, not daring to believe his friend had actually drawn the right conclusion. Usually, DanielsJack tending to mistake any and all of Moonshine's reading for- "Didn't think you were into that sort of thing, Moonshine, but I guess-"
Moonshine buried his face in his hooves. "Stop. Just. . . just stop," he said. "It's not that kind of fantasy. It's about wizards and stuff."
Moonshine continued reading in silence for a moment, but he became gradually aware of DanielsJack peering in his direction. He did his best to ignore it, but after a while, the earth brony's gaze became uncomfortable.
"Can I help you?" Moonshine said, lowering his book and glowering at his curious friend.
". . . What about wizards, exactly?"
"I. . . it's complicated," Moonshine said. He tried to return to the book, but he could still see his friend peering out of the corner of his eye. "Look," he said, lowering the book again, "Do you want me to read it to you or something?"
". . . 'kay," DanielsJack said.
Moonshine frowned. "Fine, well," he lifted his book and began reciting, "'Like tendrils of midnight whipped the mane of the mighty urs-'"
"Skip that part," DanielsJack cut in.
"Skip it?" Moonshine looked incredulous.
"Too many words," DanielsJack said.
Moonshine frowned, "That wasn't even a whole sente- Oh, nevermind. I guess I've read this once before anyway. Let's see. . ." He scanned down the page. "The others fled, and Rudolf was close behind, but as the Ursa Major plummeted into the pit below, toppling amidst the stones of the collapsing bridge, Rudolf dropped his guard, alas, a moment too soon. Deathly tendrils whirled from below, snaring the unsuspecting unicorn by the tail, dragging him backward toward the abyss. He clung to the rim for only a moment, as the others turned, their eyes meeting his. He gave them one, final command: 'Fly, you foals!'" Moonshine glanced up to see how his friend was taking the drama. DanielsJack had already passed out, his most recent bottle of apple whiskey lying sideways beside one hoof, its contents slowly spilling onto the porch. Moonshine sighed.
Oh well. At least now he could read in peace.
He raised a hoof, kicking the bottle away into the gutter and turned back to his reading.