Horsepower #6

It’s not an easy decision, and you need a long while to think about it, making the mistake of glancing over at your hopefuls a couple of times. Upstart smiles at you so happily your heart breaks a little, Dusk is still reading the back of the ketchup bottle, and Winter Hit flips his mane dramatically.

The reasoning, you have to figure, is that you don’t have a lot of time. Upstart could be a great racer, especially if he works as hard as he seems willing to, but you need to start winning tomorrow. Winter Hit is similar, if in a different way. You could learn to deal with him and set some ground rules, but you don’t need something fucking up your group cohesion for any amount of time. Dusk Runner is a good fighter and seems pretty chill. Plus you have some ideas. Some catapult related ideas.

You groan and stand up, walking over to the three. All of them give you their full attention. Dusk even puts down the ketchup bottle and fixes her relaxed gaze on you. You clear your throat but it can’t get rid of the lump.

You open your beak and close it again, tapping your talons against ground. “We’re going with Dusk Runner,” you finally say, letting it all come out in one breath.

There’s a pause as the ponies react to it. After a bit, Dusk Runner slowly grins and gives you a nod. Upstart looks like he’s composed of pure sadness that has morphed itself into a grinning figure by sheer force of will. Winter seems mostly like he doesn’t understand.

“We need someone who can race with us tomorrow,” you explain, “and, uh, Dusk is the best fit for that. But Upstart, if you can give us your information we might be able to-”

And just like that, he’s back to a totally chipper pegasus again, and he pulls out a pre-prepared binder of information and thrusts it at you, almost knocking you over in the process. “Thank you so much!” He says. “If you ever need me just say something and I’ll be there RIGHT away!”

You give him a wave. “Sure thing, little buddy.” You watch him leave the diner, the same spring as before back in his step.

“Ah, should I give you my information as well?” Winter Hit asks, looking over at you in a vogue pose.

“Nnnnnnnnnnoooooooo,” you say, dragging it out in the hopes that it’ll give you time to think of a polite way to turn him down. It doesn’t work. “Um. No. Have a nice day.”

He huffs and turns to leave the restaurant angrily. Though not without maintaining his perfect stride and poise as he does so. That colt is missing his calling.

You look back at Dusk Runner and Lug Nut. “Well,” you say, “welcome to the team, Dusk Runner. We can show you to our tent after we pick out a grease monkey, but we’ll kind of get a baptism by fire tomorrow.”

Dusk shrugs. “I’ll deal with it as it comes along,” she says in her gravelly tone. “But yeah, with me on the team, don’t worry about people getting on the car or anything. I can take care of them. Probably.”

You give her a thumbs up. “We’ll kick ass.”

Lug Nut finishes scrawling out a note and passes it to Dusk Runner. “Alright, that’s our tent location and a brief note explaining to security that you’re with us. We’ll get you officially registered next time. Could you meet us tomorrow at six AM?”

She looks at the paper and gives you a nod. “Yeah, sounds like a plan,” she says, standing up. “I gotta go do some stuff.” She pauses and surges forward to give you a hug. “But, uh, thanks. It’s gonna be rad.”

You look down at her with a note of surprise, but shrug and return the hug before she saunters off in her half-walk, half-stumble.

After she disappears, Lug Nut looks over at you. “She’ll probably be great, especially if we can do a bit of work on her gunning,” she suggests. “We have a bit of time before the grease monkeys arrive.”

You nod and the two of you take a seat at a nearby table. “Alright, more scores? Lay ‘em on me.”

Lug Nut shakes her head no as she sorts through a binder. “Grease monkeys are a lot harder to test that way. They really only need to hit a certain level of mechanical expertise before they’re just doing what I tell them to over radio, so a lot of it tends to be about extra benefit and personality. They each have their own specialty, but I’d rather let them tell you what they do and what they bring to the team.”

“Sure,” you agree with a shrug. “When are they going to get here?”

As if to answer your question, the diner door swings open and a young griffon saunters in. She’s shorter than most of her species, just a bit below the average mare, and has a sandy coat with the usual white plumage and a black beak and talons. She looks around the room a couple of times before she spies you and grins, heading over towards you.

“That’d be Giz,” Lug Nut says after following your eyes to see the griffon. “She’s our first one, a little bit early.”

“Yeah, sorry,” the griffon says. “Got excited, figured why the hell not. Hi!” She thrusts a claw forward and you give it a shake. She’s got an incredibly strong grip. “My name’s Giz, I’m hoping to be your grease monkey.”

“Nice to meet you,” you say, and switch back into ‘interview mode’, which is to say you rack your brain for a stupid question to ask at the end. “So, Giz, why do you want to be a racer?”

“I was a mechanic,” she says with a shrug, leaning forward as she talks. “It got pretty boring after a while, and I had a bit of a habit of getting into trouble. When I got kicked out of my garage, I decided maybe it was a little bit TOO boring for me to keep doing it, y’know?”

“Huh…” You say. “That’s a bit vague. What do you me-” You’re interrupted as the table beneath you suddenly falls apart, leaving Lug Nut to panic and start grabbing her papers as fast as she can. Giz, on the other hand, starts laughing like mad, forelegs crossing over her chest as she rocks back and forth on the stool while laughing. With the table gone, you can see her hind legs, and clutched within her paws are three bolts, presumably formerly being used to keep the table together.

You can’t help it, in spite of Lug Nut grumbling and trying to sort through her papers in vain, and you get a good chuckle out of it. “Alright, that was pretty great,” you say, “but let’s avoid screwing Lug Nut up so much in the future. She puts in a lot of hard work.”

Giz nods and puts her claws up. “Yeah, didn’t realize you’d have paperwork on the table when I thought the trick up,” she says. “Sorry, Miss Nut. Let me…” She picks up the stacks of paper and gives them a look over, dextrous fingers flicking the pages back and forth until they’re into two neat stacks.

Lug Nut looks suitably impressed as she rifles through them after getting the paper back. “They’re back in order? How did you figure out my system?”

The griffon shrugs. “When I really want to, I’m very good at following orders, and you had them in a sort of order already.” She pops down to the base of the table and starts shuffling things around to put them back in order. “That’s what I really bring to the team. I’m not a technical genius, but I’m fast and I’m good at getting things done.”

You nod. “Well, that was my next question, so I guess that just leaves, um, what’s your idea of a perfect first date?”

She finishes reassembling the table and slips back up into her chair just in time to look very confused at that question. “Huh. I’ve never thought about it. Carnival, maybe? Greasy food that’ll kill you, rides that have a solid chance of doing the same… I think I just talked myself out of my own date.” She looks up at you and shrugs. “Eh, in for a bit, in for a barrel. Carnival, final answer.”

“Right,” you say, giving her another clawshake. “Well just let us finish up our other interviews and we’ll let you know.”

“Sound like a plan,” Giz says, and slips out from behind table. “I’m gonna go grab some grub. And maybe apologize for the table.”

She slips out and starts over towards the counter. You look back over at Lug Nut. “She seems nice.”

Lug Nut starts to answer, but another pony slips in across from the two of you promptly. It’s a unicorn stallion. His coat is a deep blue, with a light green mane, which has been carefully trimmed in a business cut.

“12:35 PM sharp,” he says. “Exactly when you told me to be here.” He gives you a smile, and shakes your claw with three precise, firm shakes. “Slight Tweak, nice to meet you, I’m interested in being your grease monkey.”

“Oh,” you say, liking the speed at which this is proceeding. “Why, what do you bring to the table, and what would your ideal first date be?”

“I was stifled in my previous occupation, I have a lot of technical information and the efficiency to effectively use it, movie first then dinner so we have something to talk about.” He rattles off without missing a beat.

“Thank you, you’ll be considered, please wait while we finish the rest of the interviews,” you finish, and he nods once, stands, and goes over to sit next to Giz.

Lug Nut is gobsmacked. “That was less than a minute,” she says.

“I liked him,” you say with a shrug. “Don’t know if I’ll pick him, but hey, he knew how to get shit done.”

Lug Nut nods, looking back over at him, bewildered. “His previous employers say that he’s a bit particular, but is indeed very efficient. Probably not as fast as Giz, but he’s also the most educated option.”

“I’ll keep it in mind,” you say. “Alright, who’s the last one? Lots of stuff we can do!”

“The last one is a pegasus named Oil Slick,” Lug Nut says. “She should be getting here any second.” The two of you wait for a while, watching the door, until a mare sits in front of you.

She’s gorgeous. Stunningly beautiful, with a graceful and slender form. She’s got just a touch of makeup applied perfectly, plump lips, and fantastic curves. Her orange coat has a glossy sheen matched only by her sparkling blue eyes and carefully brushed out mane. You’re a little bit jealous and a lot awestruck.

“S-sorry ma’am,” Lug Nut says, looking over at the mare with a flush visible on her face. “We’re waiting to meet someone.”

The pegasus smiles softly and nods. “Yes, I would assume that would be me,” she says with the lightest touch of a Canterlot accent. “Oil Slick, for the position of grease monkey?”

Now, it’s not polite to assume things about ponies based upon appearances, but she’s very pretty, especially for the usual rough and tumble lot of racers. “Why do you want to work with us?”

She giggles and your heart skips a beat. Lug Nut seems even more transfixed by her, laughing in a painfully nervous fashion as her face turns completely red.

“Well, I think there’s something beautiful about it. The heart-pounding, intense action, the perfectly tuned machines rumbling along, the concerto of skill and chaos all dancing against each other… I simply must be a part of it!” Oil says, occasionally gesturing dramatically with a hoof.

You nod and mull over the answer while Lug Nut seems to have not heard much of it at all. “Right, next question,” you say to keep things moving along. “What do you bring to the team?”

Oil Slick taps on her lips with a primary thoughtfully. “Well, other than my standard services, I’m very good with fashion and appearances. I could lend that skill to your team and you’d be assured to get far more sponsorships and better coverage in just about everything?”

You’re about to answer the last question when Lug Nut blurts it out: “What’s your ideal first date like!?”

She looks surprised at the question, looking over at Lug Nut before she smiles. “Anything, as long as it’s with you, cutie.” And gives Lug Nut a wink.

You hop off of the stool before she’s even done and position yourself to catch Nutty as the earth mare abruptly falls backwards. She lands with a muted ‘ooph’ on your back. Oil Slick seems surprised and amused at the response.

“If you could just wait with the others, we’ll get back to you in just sec,” you say to the pegasus mare, who gives you a graceful bow and walks over to the other table to take a seat.

You lean Lug Nut back up into her stool and retake your own. She’s still a little bit frazzled from it all.

“I should um, probably not have any say in this,” she says, a goofy smile still on her face. “Yeah, that’s for the best. Who should we hire?”