MachoPoni: A Prance With Death Page 3

  And Clint seemed unaware of them!

  Darkeyes was the replacement of the former leader of the platoon. He used to live in Macho’s village when they were younger. When Darkeyes had crossed over into the dark side, he had stood forlornly for a whole day, and everyone had wished he’d go away. He’d disappeared for a couple years, then returned to take the old leader’s place. The first thing he did as the new leader was move the tent closer to the Jagged Line, as if to mock the pastel ponies. Darkeyes had adopted his own unique hairstyle since he’d become undead—his mane stuck up like two devil horns.

  Darkeyes strutted as he and the other undead ponies walked toward Clint. Macho shouted out, “Clint! Darkeyes is behind you!” and as he said that the undead ponies began to grin, and Darkeyes shook his head slightly and made a face.

  But Clint laughed mockingly! “Let him come!” he proclaimed.

  Did he think it was all a joke? Macho wondered if Clint could actually be that stupid.

  Clint pumped his front legs up and down while making a goofy face, then hopped to the side in a flourished motion, mimicking ballet movements. Behind him, Darkeyes and his crew playfully rocked their heads from side to side—two of them spun around.

  And the platoon of undead crept closer. Macho looked pleadingly to Dust. Surely she would say something, not wanting to see Clint harmed! But she just stood with a quirky grin on her face.

  Now the seriousness of the situation sunk in to the members of Clint’s clique and they began shouting things like, “I’m not kidding dude! He’s right behind you! Hurry up and cross back over!”

  But Clint laughed and went, “La la la, I love ballet!” Then he closed his eyes and performed another ballet spin. Behind him, the undead soldiers made goofy faces and struggled to laugh without making noise.

  Clint opened his eyes to look back at Macho, Dust and the other guys.

  A feeling of dread come over Macho. It was like Clint was dooming himself with his foolish behavior.

  Behind him, the undead crept a few steps closer, then Clint began marching toward the edge of the Jagged Line—and Darkeyes watched with a scowl, but for some reason stood silently. But just as Clint was about to cross the line, his hoof froze in midair, hovering over the line, then Clint made a jerky dance movement, proclaimed, “Psyche!” then he began moonwalking backwards! With long graceful strides, he seemed to glide upon the earth, all to mock Macho. Clint glided backwards along the ground, then he backed right into Darkeyes! Their hooves thudded against each other and a cloud of dust plumed up.

  Clint slowly lowered his head, took a pause, then uttered out the side of his mouth, “Hey Darkeyes.” His voice was completely calm, which chilled Machoponi to the bone. And now Clint’s expression turned into a vicious scowl as he turned around to face Darkeyes.

  And Darkeyes’ face showed fear!

  Machoponi could hardly believe it, and he looked around at everyone around him—their faces showed complete surprise as well.

  Clint made a noise in his throat that almost sounded like a growl, then shouted at Darkeyes, “Best step up off me!” Clint took a threatening step forward, and Darkeyes actually took a step back! “That’s right,” Clint said, then he twitched forward in a threatening manner. Darkeyes flinched! And behind him, the other undead ponies all looked scared! Clint chuckled, then continued to Darkeyes, “I oughta kick your ass right now, mofo! Then I oughta drag you back across the line and let you melt!”

  Darkeyes lowered his head, then muttered, “Please don’t hurt me. Please, just go. We don’t want any trouble.”

  “I oughta knock you upside the head so hard, you have to walk on two legs the rest of your life!” The ponies of his clique chuckled. “And I also oughta—” But then Clint stopped talking and wobbled a little.

  Darkeyes tilted his head and peered at him, asking, “Yes?”

  Clint’s voice seemed strained as he said, “I’m gonna let you go now.” He turned back around. “You’re lucky,” he said through a tight mouth.

  He started walking shakily toward the PastelKingdom. He took two wobbly steps, then his knees buckled as he grunted and fell over.

  Everyone on the pastel side gasped and a few of Clint’s friends rushed toward the line, as if to cross, but then stopped.

  All the undead gathered around Clint and looked down, then Darkeyes huffed in amusement and said, “Do try to get up, will you?” Clint didn’t seem to be moving.

  Machoponi found himself running across the line, seemingly without his conscious decision—all he knew was that he had to save Clint!

  Macho charged forward and nudged one of the undead aside from behind, then stood defiantly staring at Darkeyes. Darkeyes met Macho’s gaze with silence, which was surprising. But Macho didn’t stop to question—instead, he switched into action mode. He said to Clint, “Clint can you hear me? You need to get up if you can.”

  But Clint was barely even conscious. The only thing that happened was that his head nudged slightly toward the sound of Macho’s voice.

  Macho looked at Darkeye’s face, trying to read him…and Darkeyes looked back…and nodded.

  Macho gestured with his jaw over to his blue ball over on the pastel side, then said, “Can you help me get Clint’s forelegs up onto the ball? That way we can roll him across.”

  Darkeyes nodded. One of the guy ponies nudged the ball over the edge. Darkeyes then issued an order for his troops: “Blaine, lift up his mane. Rock, Butch, lift up his front.”

  And so they jumped into action, and using their combined efforts, they managed to lift and push Clint’s unconscious front half onto Macho’s blue ball. Clint had passed out at this point. Macho almost felt like passing out himself. He maneuvered himself behind Clint and pushed with his muzzle on Clint’s bottom half. The undead soldiers helped to guide the rolling ball as it gained momentum. It was actually working! The smooth plastic ball rolled over and over underneath Clint’s coat…and then Clint had made it across, followed shortly by Macho himself.

  Macho turned back around to face the DarkKingdom. Clint slid off the ball and plopped over onto the ground.

  Macho bowed to the undead soldiers. “Thank you for helping me,” he said.

  Darkeyes acted like he didn’t even hear it, and turned around, then Darkeyes and the troops started walking back toward their tent.

  Meanwhile, behind him, Macho thought he heard a very quiet word muttered to him: “Slushy.”

  He turned around and looked down at where the voice was coming from.

  “What?” Macho said to Clint, truly puzzled.

  Clint looked up at him weakly from the ground, and with complete contempt, repeated, “Sissy.”

  CHAPTER 2

  Dust Gets in Your Eyes

  Two days later, Dust came to visit Macho while he was laying sick in his bed.

  At first, he felt elated when his mother brought Dust inside the house. But then, a feeling of disappointment came over him as he realized that Dust might simply not have anything better to do without Clint around. Clint hadn’t been seen at all after the incident. His family said that he was off visiting distant family members. All the members of his clique said he was off cuddling with a girlponi, and practicing his dancing to come back to beat Machoponi in the upcoming dance off at the Promenade in a week. But no one else in the village seemed really sure exactly where Clint had gone.

  Machoponi looked into Dust’s eyes and she grinned at him gently, filling Macho with an array of confusing emotions and causing his heart to quicken.

  Macho’s mother looked back and forth between their gazes. Macho caught the sneer that flashed briefly across his mother’s face, which Dust apparently didn’t catch.

  Macho’s mother made a smacky noise with her mouth, then said in a sugary-sweet voice tinged with annoyance, “I’ll leave you two to talk, but you can only stay for a few minutes. He needs his rest.” Then she turned and left the room.

  Machoponi didn’t kno
w what to say. He felt shy in front of Dust as she gazed at him, as she tilted her head, and her mane shifted fetchingly over her right eye.

  Macho shifted his gaze to the ceiling, then nervously pulled his baby-blue blanky up higher on his body.

  With a concerned tone, Dust asked, “Are you okay?”

  “I’ve been better,” Macho said, followed by a grin that resembled more of a grimace. “I just need another day or so, that’s all.”

  “Well, I’ve been really worried about you.”

  Macho lowered his gaze and tried to read Dust’s face. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He said, “Really?”

  Dust nodded. “Mmm hmm.”

  “Well, thank you for your concern. How’s Clint doing?”

  “They tell me he’s fine and is visiting family. I think he’s still recovering though.”

  Macho nodded.

  Dust said, “I have something I’ve been wanting to tell you, and with Clint out of town, this will be the best chance I’ll have for a while.”

  “Yes? What is it?”

  Dust started fidgeting and could not meet his eyes. “I—I’m just gonna say it, and hope you don’t hate me.”

  “Okay, please tell me.”

  After a long pause, Dust said, “I have feelings for you.”

  Macho was shocked.

  Dust continued. “I hid it for a long time. I thought it was just a crush. Like, remember when you were a colt and I was a filly? I had a crush on you back then.”

  Macho chuckled. “Yes, I remember.” Macho had a crush on Dust back then too, except his crush had never really gone away. Now they were both sixteen years old and things weren’t the same.

  Dust laughed then said, “Remember how I used to kiss you on the mouth, then run away?”

  Macho grinned, “And I would chase you.”

  “Yeah, you used to say how gross it was!”

  “But I was just a kid.” Macho looked down shyly. “Actually, I kind of started liking it. But then you stopped.”

  “Well, I was just a kid too. I moved onto other guys. I guess I didn’t realize what kind of guy you’d turn out to be.”

  “What kind of guy do you think I am?”

  Her face took on a dreamy expression. “A very strong, very macho, but also a very kind and sensitive poni, and hopefully…loyal?” She looked at him timidly.

  Macho hoped she was inferring what he thought she was. Macho’s yearning for Dust was no secret in the village and was even the butt of many jokes. He’d never extinguished the flame in his heart ever since they were little kids. “Yes,” he answered and his voice shook with emotion.

  “Maybe we could have something good together. We have a lot of history. You have stuck up for me ever since we were kids. You’ve always been so kind to me. Maybe I need a kind guy. I don’t know what that’s like. You see, I’ve been wanting to break up with Clint for quite a while now. I’ve just been waiting for the right moment.”

  Macho tried hard to keep his voice calm, as he asked, “Are you going to do it soon?”

  A wicked grin crept up the side of Dust’s face. “Yes, right after the Promenade. Think about how humiliating that would be.” She chuckled, and despite himself, Macho chuckled too.

  He said, “That sounds kind of mean.”

  “But it’s what he deserves, don’t you think?”

  “Maybe so,” Macho replied.

  “And I’m sure you’ll win in the dance off. Clint dances like he has four left hooves!”

  Macho grinned.

  “And right after you win, I’ll break up with Clint right in front of everyone! That’ll show him. But I had another thing I wanted to ask you about.”

  “Yes?”

  “Clint’s sister, you know her right? His oldest sister.…”

  “You mean Badunkadunk? Yes, I know her. I say hi to her every once in a while. What about her?”

  “Well, this is going to sound strange, but right before the dance off, she wants to kiss you. Like a real kiss…on the mouth.”

  Macho was dumbfounded. “But why?”

  “She hates her brother too and we’ve been planning this thing together. And you have to do it in front of everyone too. It will really tick Clint off! Imagine how he’ll feel about you kissing his sister!”

  Macho suddenly felt overwhelmed and was reminded of how ill he felt.

  “But why?” he stammered. “What about you and me?”

  Dust chuckled. “Don’t worry. I’m not the jealous type. Besides, I know there’s nothing between you two.”

  Macho opened his mouth to speak, but Dust put on her sad eyes and batted her long lashes irresistibly. “Please,” she said. “It would mean so much to both of us.”

  “Okay,” Macho said, weakly.

  Dust seemed lost in thought for a moment, then chuckled.

  “What?” Macho asked, grinning simply because she was.

  “Remember that time by the pond back when I would kiss you and run away? You were looking at a butterfly one day.…”

  Macho shook his head.

  “Well,” she said. “I thought you were so cute, how intensely you were staring at that butterfly. And I crept beside you and I kissed the side of your mouth.”

  “And then you ran away?”

  “Yes, and you chased me and tripped and fell…”

  Suddenly Macho remembered. “I was crying,” he said, “and you were laughing at me!”

  “I didn’t know what I was doing back then. But I thought you were so cute with your pouty little face and your vulnerability.”

  “Then you stuck your tongue out at me!” Macho shouted in mock anger.

  “Because you didn’t catch me.”

  “Maybe someday I will,” Macho said.

  “Maybe someday soon I’ll kiss you again.…”

  “Will you run away?”

  “We’ll see.…”

  Then, after saying goodbye, Dust left Macho alone with his thoughts.

  It took Machoponi three days to recover. It generally took normal ponies four or five days to recover, but Machoponi was strengthened by his exceptional machismo.

  During the next week, Machoponi practiced his dance moves. Half his time he devoted to the types of dances he did for the public—the kind that made ponies hoot in approval and shake their heads in disbelief. But the other half of his valuable practice time, he devoted to his love, his art, his calling…ballet. Why did ponies mock such beautiful movement of the body? Was it just because he was a male? Was it not macho?

  Well, Macho knew better—he knew the truth. He had an ancient book from the Time When People Walked with Ponies. He couldn’t read very well, but his great-grandfather could, and had read to Macho the name of the strong, very macho ballet dancer in the book, who Macho gazed admiringly at nearly every day while practicing. The man’s name was Mikhail Nikolaevitch Baryshnikov. And Baryshnikov was Macho’s inspiration as he would close his eyes and perform the ballet spin and as he would reach for the sky in grand leaps like a gazelle.

  CHAPTER 3

  The Promenade Begins!

  It was the day of the Promenade! And a magical feeling filled the village! The village was abuzz with excitement like the twirling butterflies and bees in the fields! Because it was a wonderful day of preparation! The day of the Promenade! A day of anticipation and joy—and of a whole village brimming with ponies rushing to and fro and saying, “How do you do?” And the air was filled with the smell of potpies cooling on windowsills and the sound of brushing hair! It was the day of the Promenade!

  In the afternoon, there even appeared that smile-upside-down called a rainbow, stretching its back between the two kingdoms. It usually only showed itself a couple of times a month, and here it was to mark the grand day. The half that was inside the PastelKingdom, was colorfully ROYGBIV, and the half that crossed into the DarkKingdom was in shades of gray, just like always.

  How comforting it w
as to see it return the same as it always did, for, like the comforting stars, it was always the same, but unlike them, it did not appear every day. But it appeared this day, because this day was a day of yummy goodness, a day like the cream inside a chocolate cupcake mixing with the icing outside!

  “Are you ready?” they’d ask each other, then laugh because no one could wait! Because it was the glorious, fantastic, gleefully gay day of

  THE PROMENADE

  Finally the nighttime arrived, the stars came out and began to twinkle like unscratched plastic!

  The drawbridge of the PurpleCastle lowered to welcome the entrance of the party-going ponies! The crowd cheered! They began to file into the castle. And Oh, what a glorious spectacle they were!

  The girlponies were first, each wearing a tiara sparkling with shimmering clear plastic and a large red plastic jewel heart as its centerpiece. Dust led the group, because she had been proclaimed Princess for a Day. Some said that all the girlponies were equally beautiful and since they each wore a tiara, that “every poni is a princess,” but of course, that’s crap. They all wore luxurious gowns of velvet and silk and colors like red and purple. O, how deliciously sinful it was to wear clothing, just like the fabled humans from days of old!

  Upon the dainty forelegs of each fine maiden, clung striped legwarmers of all colors of the rainbow. All the proper colors that is—not gray. Because gray was not allowed in the pastel side. And they marched in lockstep into the castle and to the ballroom inside!

  Now the guy ponies began filing in over the drawbridge! And they were dressed handsomely with a top hat upon each masculine head and a fuchsia boa wrapped around each strong neck.

  To the ballroom they went!

  The ballroom was a glorious room. Large and luxurious—from the inside it almost seemed larger than the castle itself! They all entered the room by the wooden banisters at the top of the two winding staircases, the guys on the left side of the room and the girls on the right.

  The two long staircases led down to the central dance floor which was made of checkered black and white marble. Above it twinkled a large ornate chandelier. Machoponi was in front of the line of guys and he pushed his blue ball down the staircase, which ploomped ploomped down then bounced into the beautiful water fountain in the center of the floor.