MachoPoni: A Prance With Death Read online

  “What, are you scared? Of course it’s unnatural! That’s why it’s so good! Do it,” Macho stated simply. “It’ll be an amazing rush.”

  The group of undead ponies nodded eagerly. That was all they needed to hear.

  “Here,” Macho lulled sweetly, as he walked to the baccarat table, “I’ll show you.” He nudged three strawberries next to a banana. He began to peel the banana with his teeth as the undead ponies watched. His distraction was working. They were completely enthralled.

  He took a bite of banana, then took a strawberry into his mouth. He swallowed and his head lurched back—he bumped into a poni behind him and started shuddering.

  “Quick, give me a chocolate mint!” Macho shouted. One of the undead guided him to the chocolate mint table, because Macho’s legs were shaking so much that he could barely walk. His eyes were rolling up into the back of his head and his mouth was writhing. He was whimpering, and he dropped the chocolate mint twice before getting it into his mouth. And then he was holding that delectable candy in his mouth—he was biting down and it was mixing and melting in his mouth!

  Macho looked around at the hooves of the other ponies and he realized that he had fallen down. He raised his gaze to look at them. He had to close one eye, because it was difficult to look out of both at the same time.

  The soldiers were gathered around the baccarat table, with strawberries and bananas in front of them. Their eyes were rolling in their heads—they looked insane.

  They were completely ignoring Machoponi, so he simply stood up and walked out of the tent. He then began to gallop toward the Jagged Line. But he was having trouble galloping straight—the Jagged Line seemed to be shifting to his right, and then he heard a call behind him: “Hey, get him! He’s getting away!”

  He looked behind him to see the group of soldiers spreading out from the tent, like a blooming flower of doom, veering off in various crooked lines. Dolph was the only one who seemed to be able to run somewhat straight, and he was quickly catching up.

  “I’m gonna kill you!” Dolph yelled.

  Briefly, their gazes locked, and what Machoponi saw in those eyes terrified him. He tried to calm himself and focus on reaching the Jagged Line. If he could just get across, he would be okay.

  Macho turned his head forward. He was getting closer to the Jagged Line, but he could hear the sounds of Dolph’s hooves closing in on him.

  Machoponi crossed the Jagged Line and the world seemed to explode with pastel colors.

  He gave a sigh of relief then stopped and turned around in order to mock Dolph. But his eyes widened as he saw Dolph still galloping toward him! Dolph’s face was contorted with a grimace so hate-filled that it almost looked like he was smiling.

  Dolph came closer and closer as Machoponi watched, frozen in fear. Machoponi tried to turn around and start running again, but his body was too slow to respond.

  Dolph was almost upon him. Machoponi shouted out, “The line!” in a desperate attempt to make Dolph stop.

  Dolph galloped to within five feet from Machoponi, but then an expression of fear came across his face, and he tried to come to a complete halt all of a sudden while he was directly over the Jagged Line, with his front half in the PastelKingdom and his back half in the DarkKingdom. Dolph howled in pain as he dug his back legs into the ground.

  The wrenching movement tore his body in half. Momentum caused his two front legs to keep stumbling forward as his back legs catapulted themselves back and fell over, spraying a cloud of blood into the air and trailing intestines onto the ground.

  Machoponi stepped to the side as Dolph’s front half sprinted past him, then crashed face down next to the blue ball…then his tummy and intestines plopped over so that he was laying on his side. Dolph wriggled on the ground for a few seconds with terrified eyes while cursing and spitting up blood, then his body went still.

  Macho cautiously approached Dolph’s front half and tapped it with his hoof. The flesh felt soggy—it was already starting to disintegrate.

  He looked back into the DarkKingdom to see Dolph’s back half twitching in a pool of blood.

  The undead ponies seemed to be dazed by what happened. After several moments, one of them slurred, “More strawrana,” then they all turned around and headed back to the tent.

  Machoponi nudged the blue ball with his hoof—it had a few spatters of blood on it. Solemnly, he headed back to his village. He felt quite ill and knew he would be sick for the next few days. He squinted his eyes, because the PastelKingdom seemed so bright after having been in the DarkKingdom.

  The Legend of Machoponi

  Part the First

  O, hear the tale of Machoponi,

  Who longed to call fair Dust his “lovely.”

  But she would never look his way,

  And by his side, she would not stay.

  A Hero with blue ball was he,

  ‘Cross Jagged Line he pranced bravely,

  With tender scowl and broken heart,

  The torn two halves so far apart.

  Like licking ice cream gives such pain,

  With throbbing hurting of the brain.

  So, pain can come upon Fate’s breeze,

  To punish Lust, just like brain freeze.

  And Beauty draws his lovesick gaze.

  He stares at Dust with heart ablaze!

  Like sprinkles atop ice cream surprise,

  Bring cold that causes your demise,

  Dust gets in your eyes.

  CHAPTER 1

  Crossing the Line

  “You think you’re sooooo tough,” Clint mockingly called out.

  Machoponi narrowed his eyes and tried to keep the tears from welling up. He blinked them away. Behind Clint, five of the popular guyponies grinned viciously.

  Why did trouble always seem to find him, even though he was never looking for it? Machoponi threw a scowl at Clint, the jerk of the village.

  Then Machoponi sighed, because he just couldn’t believe it! Dust, his #1 crush, walked out from behind the group then stood at Clint’s side! She stared back at Macho with her big, ruby-red eyes, drawing his eyes into hers. He had always thought she was the cutest poni in the entire village, with the most beautiful color scheme of burgundy tail and mane on a white body. Machoponi didn’t know why she hung around so much with Clint and his crew—Clint was a total jerk, and his blue body and green hair wasn’t very attractive. Right now, Dust’s burgundy mane rippled and whipped in the wind and lapped at the soft curve of her flank and the vertical red jagged scar there. The pendant that she always wore around her neck twisted and untwisted. It was a ruby in the shape of half a heart—a jagged line was on its right side, as if the other half of the heart had been torn away.

  Clint continued his verbal barrage. “You’re not the only one who can cross the line. You really aren’t anything but a big sissy, and I’m gonna prove it!”

  Machoponi glanced at Clint’s hooves; they were a few inches away from the crack in the earth known as the Jagged Line. On the other side of that line was the DarkKingdom, a grim land where the undead ponies roamed. About three months ago, Machoponi had been there. He shuddered as he remembered. He had been sick for three days after that, and he feared his soul still hadn’t recovered.

  Macho lifted his chin and stared into Clint’s eyes, then said, “I really wouldn’t do that if I were you, Clint. What are you trying to prove?”

  Clint scowled, then replied, “That you aren’t as great—as macho as you think you are. I’m tired of you acting like you’re the only one tough enough to cross the line.”

  Macho pouted as he felt the gaze of the eyes of all those ponies—and especially that special pair of eyes—those of Dust.

  Macho looked down at his blue ball then at the ground around them. It was almost twilight and their bodies cast long shadows—the shadows looked almost as if they were trying to run away from the Jagged Line.

  His own arrogance was coming back t
o haunt him, because even though Machoponi had been sick for days, he had faked that he was fine, all to appear tough in the eyes of all the other ponies.

  The whole village had lavished Machoponi with praise and adoration, which of course, made Clint fume with jealousy, because Clint wanted to be the alpha male of the village. Ever since they were young colts, they had been in fierce competition.

  Clint lifted his front right hoof.…

  “Don’t.…” Machoponi pleaded, trying to let his voice reveal the genuine concern that he felt.

  “Why? Because you don’t want everyone to know what a sissy you are?”

  Machoponi made the decision right then to sacrifice his own pride to save Clint. “Clint,” Macho said while trying to appear humble, “I felt horrible for a week after I crossed the line. I wouldn’t recommend it—not at all.”

  “Cuz you’re a sissy?”

  “No…because it hurt. A lot.”

  Clint faltered just a little, so Machoponi knew there was some hope that he might back out of it. Machoponi just needed to give Clint a way to save face. But instead of backing away, Clint looked around at the faces of all his buddies. Unfortunately, Clint had a reputation to uphold just like Machoponi did. They were two peas in a pod, and controlled by the same social forces.

  “It’s stupid, Clint,” Macho scolded, “and besides…” he gestured with his chin to the olive green military tent on the dark side about fifteen feet away, “how do you know that Darkeyes and his platoon aren’t going to come out?”

  Clint’s face registered absolutely no fear at all, which surprised Macho.

  Darkeyes was the leading officer of the platoon of undead ponies inside the military tent. The undead ponies usually stayed inside during the day, but as Machoponi himself had experienced, sometimes they didn’t do as they were expected.

  Clint grinned smugly, and Dust’s eyes gazed admiringly at Clint as he said, “Darkeyes is a sissy like you. If he gets within five feet of me, I’ll kick his ass. I might even push him across the line! It’ll be like a little trophy!”

  Macho glanced at Dust to gauge her reaction to Clint’s words. It seemed to Machoponi that Dust shuddered and grinned a little—was it from excitement or fear or nervousness? Perhaps she was grinning because she thought Clint was a fool. Because that’s what he was.

  Because when living ponies cross the line into the DarkKingdom, it is fatal to them within fifteen minutes. The undead ponies can’t cross the Jagged Line at all, because it is immediately fatal to them.

  But a few foolish male ponies would purposefully cross the line to show how tough they were. A few ponies, like Darkeyes, had even lost their lives that way. Of course, they were immediately reanimated as a new member of the undead, but they could never return home again, and they were shunned by the ponies of the PastelKingdom. Many of those lost ponies would stand for hours on the edge of the line, with mournful expressions, trying to keep contact with their friends and family who avoided them. But within a day or two, the DarkKingdom transformed their appearance and personality—and they became typical undead jerks.

  It was said that when Darkeyes had crossed the line, he had been trying to impress Dust as well. Machoponi glanced at her face, trying to read her expression. She was so beautiful.

  And now he had to admit to himself that part of the reason he didn’t want Clint to cross was because of the sense of rivalry. Macho remembered how Dust had looked at him after he himself had crossed the line. There had been a glow of admiration in her eyes all that week, and there had even been a few instances of her looking down shyly.

  He remembered the look in Dust’s eyes as she had gazed at him, trembling slightly, her breathing deep and out of control. She had grown afraid, she told him, and she liked that feeling.

  It had become clear over the years that Dust was one of those girls who liked “danger.”

  That look in her eyes had been what he’d wanted to see all his life, but what he’d only seen in his dreams or fantasies. For one week, that look had been directed at him—but then it had disappeared from her face when he didn’t do anything else exciting. She was thrilled by the other guy ponies who’d mock-fight to impress her, and she flirted with the local sports stars. But Macho didn’t do sports or unnecessary fights, so when Dust looked at him, she had the blank expression and glazed eyes of boredom.

  Clint’s hoof was hovering, inching closer to the Jagged Line. Dust watched in anticipation and Machoponi held his breath, and the gang of goofballs watched, waiting for the show.

  “Please!” Macho shouted desperately. He thought for a moment, then said, “I don’t think Dust really wants to watch you do something stupid. It would upset her.” All heads turned toward Dust, and all eyes locked upon her face, trying to read her expression. A tender blush—in a shade paler than her burgundy mane—crept up the sides of her neck and bloomed on her face.

  She bowed her head down and smiled a trembling, nervous grin—at least that’s what it looked like to Machoponi. Surely she couldn’t be amused by all of this!

  Clint’s words almost tripped over each other as he proclaimed, “I tell you what. If Dust wishes it, I will not cross.”

  And then what followed was a long pause. Dust just kept looking down, her chest shuddering.

  Clint huffed, then set one hoof on the ground in the dark side.

  Clint glanced at Dust to read her expression.

  Dust looked back at him, winked, then grinned.

  Clint’s male groupies whooped their encouragement.

  Then Clint scowled at Macho while talking out the side of his mouth to his clique: “Perhaps I should dance across!” he proclaimed as they chuckled. Then he made a little hop-scooch movement, setting all four of his hooves on the ground inside the DarkKingdom.

  Clint’s remark was a dig at Machoponi, because Macho had recently discovered a love of dance. He had been practicing in private, using ancient texts. Somehow Clint had found out and had challenged him to a dance off at the Promenade the following week.

  Clint took a few steps into the dark side then turned to face them all. He looked around him in mock shock, then yelled to Macho, “Is this supposed to be it? Is this supposed to be what made you so sick? What a sissy! I hardly feel a thing!”

  All the other guy ponies snickered and shot Macho hateful looks.

  And now Macho, even though he didn’t want to, was letting his pride take over his behavior as he said, “Clint! I stayed past the line much longer than you! You haven’t even been there a minute! I stayed at least an hour!” He was exaggerating, of course.

  Clint backed up further into the DarkKingdom to illustrate his toughness. A strained grin crept up the side of his face.

  Clint began mocking Macho by doing very clumsy ballet steps. “Look, I’m Sissy-poni!” Clint proclaimed as he leapt to his left and almost stumbled. Everyone laughed, except Machoponi, who pouted severely.

  Macho snarled and narrowed his eyes at Clint but that only seemed to amuse the jerk.

  Clint sloppily spun, then bowed and stumbled.

  Machoponi found himself wondering if Clint’s bumbling was completely on purpose. Clint probably had only a few more moments before he could no longer play off the ill effects of being on the dark side. Macho knew what he had to do.

  And so, he pleaded, trying to seem as sincere as possible. “Please don’t, Clint. It hurt so much when I crossed the line. I only pretended to be tough.”

  Clint sneered. “So I guess you’re a lot less tough than me, you sissy!”

  All the guys snickered. And the way Dust was looking at Macho, it almost seemed like she wanted to roll her eyes.

  Macho said, “Okay, Clint, so you proved your point. Now come on back.”

  Clint replied, “Yeah, that’s right, I proved that you may be the only poni with a blue ball in the village,” and he started swaggering back toward the Jagged Line, “but I’m the only one in the village with brass ones,” he
said as he lifted his hoof over, just about to cross the line.

  But as Macho was breathing a sigh of relief, Clint’s tongue jutted out from his mouth, stuck in the “out” position, and he closed his eyes and raised his chin and performed a mocking ballet spin.

  Macho shouted out, trying his best to sound meek, “Clint why are you doing this?”

  Clint laughed and said, “Why?” as music began to play, and he began to sing this song:

  You’ve Got to Try

  “‘Why?’ you ask! ‘Why oh why?’

  Why, of course, to catch the maiden’s eye!

  And while you may be chicken,

  Because you just might die,

  I’m not too scared to cross the line,

  Cuz I’m not too scared to try!

  Oh, there are ponies out there,

  Who do not even try!

  They cower underneath their beds,

  And then they wonder why?!

  ‘Why don’t the girls look back,

  When I look them in the eye?!’

  ‘Why oh why?’

  Could it be you’re scared to try?

  Oh, you’ve got to keep on trying,

  Even if you fail,

  Even if you fall down,

  Get up and try again!

  So, heck, yeah, I crossed the line, you sissy!

  I crossed the line, and more!

  I crossed to prove that I’m just not a big ol’ bore!

  Not dumb or boring with a stupid little ball,

  But big and strong and dangerous,

  And not a lameo at all!

  Sometimes you’ve got to go for it!

  You’ve got to go and try!

  Cuz if you don’t, you won’t succeed,

  And then you’ll wonder ‘why??’

  And even if you stumble, even if you fall,

  As you lay dying, at least you will know,

  That at least you’re not some dorky sissy

  With a dorky ball!

  And that’s why, you’ve got to try…even if you die!”

  But then everyone’s eyes opened wide, because behind Clint, Darkeyes and his platoon were coming out of the front opening of the military tent. Their coats were dark gray, their tails and manes were scraggly and dirty silver, as was typical of the undead. They all stumbled out as if half drunk.