MachoPoni: A Prance with Death (Poniworld Chronicles #1)

MachoPoni: A Prance with Death

  Lotus Rose

  This book is available in print (with more illustrations) at amazon.com & bn.com

  Copyright © 2009 by Lotus Rose

  Cover and interior art copyright © 2008 by Emma Björk

  Discover other titles by Lotus Rose at loteyrose.com

  PROLOGUE

  Machoponi and the Lost Blue Ball

  Name: Machoponi

  Type: Bedroom Eyes Miniponi

  Body: Purple

  Hair: Violet

  Eyes: Green

  Quote: "It's so hard being macho!"

  Machoponi gazed into the landscape of the Dark Kingdom, with a scowl on his face. He was waiting for some of the undead soldiers to come out from the large, olive green military tent about thirty-five feet away. The soldiers would probably be waking up soon, because it was almost dusk.

  It never ceased to amaze him how the whole world changed within such a short distance. On the side where Machoponi stood was the Pastel Kingdom, with its green grass, blue skies and butterflies…but then all the bright colors abruptly stopped and on the other side of a crack in the earth, the sky was gray and dark, and the grass was brown.

  That crack in the earth was the ancient Jagged Line from the Great Dividing and was just a leaping distance away from Machoponi. The Jagged Line stretched all the way across Poniworld and split it in half. It was the line that was deadly to cross. During the Great Dividing, the earth had quaked and a crack formed in the ground. On that fateful day, all the ponies on the other side of the Jagged Line had been transformed from pastel ponies into undead ponies.

  Machoponi felt his heartbeat quicken—over there in the Dark Kingdom, some of the members of the undead army were coming out of the tent.

  With mean eyes, six of them came out the front opening, and looked around suspiciously. Their coats were dark gray, their tails and manes were scraggly and dirty silver, as was typical of the undead. One of them had a mohawk hairstyle.

  Their black eyes narrowed upon seeing Macho. Macho had been there to greet them at the same time for the past three days.

  "Hey sissy!" one of them yelled. That one nudged two others, then the whole group turned and mooned Machoponi.

  Machoponi gave them the tongue back.

  "Bet you wish you had some chocolate mints!" one of the soldiers taunted.

  "Chocolate mints are for losers!" Machoponi called back.

  Their hateful scowls faltered slightly as they saw what Macho held under his front right hoof: it was a blue ball. Jealousy showed on their undead faces as they gazed at the ball. It was the first time they'd seen it. Machoponi had been practicing with it for weeks. Now was his chance to show off.

  He flipped the ball up and bounced it repeatedly on his knee.

  The dead-in-the-eyes stares from across the Jagged Line chilled Machoponi straight to the bone. He trembled slightly, but he was absolutely determined not to fumble in front of them, and he quickly regained his confident command of the ball.

  As they realized that they couldn't intimidate him into flubbing, one by one, members of the group left to use the latrines. That was why they had exited the tent in the first place—Machoponi knew their habits.

  The undead ponies were ignoring him now, or at least trying to pretend they were, but Machoponi could see their every-once-in-a-while sideways glances to where he was, and the brief flashes of jealousy.

  Normally, the citizens of each kingdom kept on their side of the cracked earth, because if a living pony entered the Dark Kingdom, it would slowly make them sicker and eventually kill them, and if an undead pony crossed over into the Pastel Kingdom, it would immediately cause them to disintegrate.

  Machoponi bounced the ball higher up off of his knee, then bounced it twice on the top of his head, then went back to bouncing it on his knee.

  The undead ponies across the line tried hard to look unimpressed. Most of the ponies had used the latrines already and had returned to the group.

  Macho let the ball come to rest on top of his knee, then tipped his leg so the ball rolled down the front of his right leg, then held it balanced on his hoof, then kicked and rolled the ball back up his leg, rolled it over the back of his neck and down his front left leg, then held it balanced on his front left hoof.

  The undead ponies who were watching him scoffed and rolled their eyes.

  Machoponi grinned and wriggled his nose mockingly. He kicked the ball high up into the air. When the ball came back down, he bounced it off his tail, sending the ball into a forward arc—he stood, staring at the undead ponies with an innocent expression as the ball hung in the air—it landed eight feet in front of him on the ground inside the Dark Kingdom! He'd given it just the right amount of back spin so that it didn't bounce, but hugged the ground and rolled backwards…he lifted his front right leg, where it rolled neatly underneath his hoof and he stepped on it and held it there.

  The undead stood with their jaws dropped.

  Machoponi grinned a little. They had been quite unsuccessful in ignoring him.

  The leading officer, indicated by his dirty-silver mohawk, who Machoponi knew was named Dolph, swore angrily, then bid his group to follow him and they all went back inside the tent.

  Machoponi laughed hysterically.

  It felt so good to be macho.

  He was laughing so hard, he had to bend his head down. But then his leg twitched and he accidentally nudged the ball, and it started rolling quickly toward the Jagged Line!

  He stopped laughing.

  His eyes went wide.

  All he could do was watch as the ball sped across the line, into the dark side, and it just kept rolling, until it finally came to rest a few feet in front of the tent.

  Macho muttered something rude under his breath.

  He pouted severely. He had no choice but to go retrieve it.

  This ball was special because it had a spell put on it that made it unpopable. A magician had cast the spell to honor Macho's war hero grandfather, Studponi. The ball, which had been a gift from Studponi's daughter, had been the only thing motivating Studponi to stay alive as he lay hiding in a trench surrounded by Nazi ponies. Studponi survived his ordeal and passed the ball down to Macho's father, who had just given it to Macho on his 16th birthday. And now Machoponi had lost it in a matter of a few weeks.

  He pouted severely again.

  Well, he had no choice but to cross over into the dark side and retrieve it. He knew that being there would make him sick—those foolish ponies who went into the Dark Kingdom on a dare, even for a brief moment, would be ill for several days. He was lucky, at least, that all the soldiers were inside the tent and didn't see him lose his ball. He supposed that most other ponies his age might be too afraid to cross the Jagged Line, at least not without other ponies to help. But he wasn't a regular pony. He was Machoponi and he had a reputation to protect.

  He took a determined breath, muttered to himself, "It's so hard being macho," then began walking to get his ball back!

  He stood right on the edge. He'd never crossed the Jagged Line before. His legs began to tremble.

  He looked to the tent. The past three days, when the undead ponies had gone into the large military tent, they'd stayed inside for hours. That was when Machoponi would leave, because there was no point in waiting around.

  If he was quiet enough, he was sure he could get his ball back without incident. As long as he didn't stay over there too long, there would be no risk of becoming undead.

  He closed his eyes and took the plunge.

  A chill imme
diately engulfed his body.

  He shuddered, opened his eyes and everything looked murkier. It was startling to see and feel how different it was from the Pastel Kingdom.

  As if to reassure himself that his homeland was still there, he jerked his head to look behind him. The sudden movement made his stomach lurch, but the sight of his home comforted him.

  He was feeling nauseous and weak. The air had a sickly-sweet smell like rotting garbage.

  It was just like ponies said it was.

  Machoponi wasn't looking forward to being sick the next few days, but he knew he was a lot tougher than most other ponies, because he was Machoponi, and he knew he could stay inside the Dark Kingdom longer than most, at least long enough to get his ball back.

  With wobbly knees, trying to be as quiet as possible, he walked to the ball. Quickly, he nudged it toward the Jagged Line. It rolled on the ground, then went across, coming to a rest a few feet past it.

  He sighed with relief.

  The ball was safe now. The undead couldn't cross the Jagged Line: it was said to literally cause their flesh to melt.

  But now his curiosity was piqued by something else. He cocked his head to listen. He could hear strange noises coming from the inside of the tent. A couple of the soldiers were cackling maniacally. One of them kept saying, "Mmmm."

  Macho wondered what the hell was going on in there.

  Then, even though he knew it might not be such a smart idea, but because he was so overwhelmingly macho, he slipped his head inside the front flap of the tent and yelled, "You're all a bunch of morons!"

  The next part of his plan was to take off galloping until he was safely on the other side of the Jagged Line. But instead of running, Machoponi's jaw dropped as he gazed in wide wonder at the scene before his eyes.

  They were gambling! They were all standing around a green baccarat table, which Macho knew was used for playing a card game. Next to their cards were piles of fruit, which they seemed to be betting with! It was scandalous! Gambling was absolutely forbidden on the pastel side, but apparently there was no decency here. How could they allow it without all the ponies falling into depravity? But what was even worse was that there was a marble table off to the side piled with chocolate candy! Machoponi guessed that they were chocolate mints. He'd never personally seen any, but he knew ponies who said they had. Chocolate mints had been forbidden on the pastel side, and all the recipes were said to be destroyed—over time, the pastel ponies had forgotten how to make them. But the undead ponies in the Dark Kingdom made and consumed them all the time—and they were known to sometimes smuggle them across the Jagged Line in trade. Ponies were said to get some kind of "good feeling" from the mints.

  But the elders said that it caused you to lose discipline and eventually ruined your body and caused you to die. But the undead were already dead, so maybe it didn't matter to them. Besides, the elders seemed to lie about a lot of things.

  The six ponies in the tent stared dumbly back at Machoponi.

  Then they all busted out laughing!

  The leading officer of the group, Dolph, grinned widely—he had mesmerizing dimples and the sharp incisors of the undead. He replied, "It seems that you're the moron. Don't you know that crossing the Jagged Line will kill you?"

  Macho gritted his teeth. He knew that Dolph was telling the truth.

  So if he wasn't stupid, he would leave now, while he still had a chance, but that macho part of his soul kept pushing him to do aggressive things.

  Maybe he could just administer a quick bludgeoning…he didn't know how he could live with himself if he turned tail and galloped away.

  Macho growled to himself during his moment of indecision, his mind switching back and forth between the two choices. Then in the interest of self-preservation, he took off galloping. But then he stopped halfway to the Jagged Line.

  Something was itching at the back of his mind.

  He looked back toward the tent. One of the soldiers was just now sticking his head out of the front, with a goofy grin on his face.

  Macho felt a strange twinge of envy. He wished that he could be happy like that, rather than tormented and edgy. What was making the undead ponies so gleeful? Was it the thrill of gambling? The chocolate mints? He put on his best endearing grin, then started walking back toward the tent. "Hey!" he called out. "Can I try some of those chocolate mints?"

  Now all the undead ponies had stepped outside. They eyed Machoponi suspiciously, then looked to see what Dolph decided. Dolph nodded—his mohawk wobbled slightly, then he called out, "Our chocolate mints are the greatest! If you become one of us undead, you can have them everyday! Why don't you come inside and try some?"

  "Really?" Macho called back. "You won't try to kill me?"

  "Of course not," Dolph replied, "if you don't try to kill us." The other undead ponies chuckled. "But listen, we'll let you go, and you can tell everyponi about the chocolate mints so they can cross over and become converted. It'll work out for both of us." He grinned.

  Machoponi had a habit of acting without thinking a lot of the time. All he knew at that moment, was that he really wanted to see what all the fuss was about with the chocolate mints. He decided he would trick the undead ponies into letting their guards down, which would make it easier for him to escape later. So he started walking back toward the group of undead ponies and said, "Really, I've been thinking a lot lately about maybe joining you undead. You seem to have a lot of fun. It gets pretty boring with everything being pastel all the time."

  The undead ponies stepped inside the tent and he followed them. They all eagerly walked to the table piled with chocolate mint candies, then started nudging with their noses and taking pieces into their mouths. There was a strange scent in the air, which Machoponi assumed was mint. He bit his lip as he watched them with excitement rising up inside him.

  Dolph fixed Macho with a big grin, with his dimples deep and prominent. He nudged a chocolate in Macho's direction on the table. "Go ahead and give it a go," Dolph said coaxingly.

  Macho was feeling afraid, even though he was usually overly brave. The candy looked brown and kind of gross, actually. He remembered the stories he'd heard and asked, "Is it green on the inside?"

  "Yeah," Dolph replied, "that's the mint part. It mixes with the chocolate inside your mouth and wooooo." He blew out a shuddering breath into the air in front of him.

  Machoponi arched his brow. "It's that good, huh?"

  "There's nothing better."

  There was a part inside of Machoponi, a dark side, that had always remained hidden. It was the part moving his legs forward, causing his head to dip. He'd just have a little. What could a little hurt?

  He took the candy into his mouth. He bit in—the taste was foreign to him. He began to chew, then the cooling sensation hit him, mixing in with the dark chocolate beginning to melt in his mouth.

  It was like a shooting cold chill going throughout his mouth and his head. It felt so good. It was a lot like the chill he had felt upon entering the dark side, but this chill wasn't bad at all, and now he realized how a chill could actually feel very good. It was a feeling of glorious ecstasy. He closed his eyes and his eyelids began to twitter. He opened his mouth and blew out a breath of cool air. Now he knew what all the fuss was about.

  He opened his eyes to see everyponi staring at him.

  Dolph's dimpled grin slowly crept up the side of his face. "It's good, huh?"

  Macho just stood looking at him, trying to savor every moment of that minty chocolate flavor in his mouth.

  Dolph fixed him with a flirtatious stare. "It's all yours, if you join us. We can make your death pleasant." Macho tried to remain outwardly calm, despite the rising fear inside of him, which came partly from the fact that the undead ponies were blocking the only way out of the tent, and partly from the fact that he was actually considering joining.

  "Have another piece," Dolph was saying now, with th
at pointy grin of his, and now all the ponies were approaching Macho. When they got close enough, Machoponi had no doubt that they would pounce. He scanned his eyes madly around the inside of the tent, looking for a way out.

  But then he attained a sudden, brilliant surge of thought—the influence of the mints had cleared the obscuring clutter in his mind.

  In a sudden mental jump, he imagined himself in the future, obsessed with attaining the next chocolate. Just like everything else in life, he knew that it would become "not enough" and he would constantly be seeking to increase the fix. So he knew that the way to get the soldiers' attention off of him was to offer them a better fix.

  The chocolate mints caused his mind to form connections it normally wouldn't. He could see now in his mind's eye, a "glorious combination."

  ~*strawberry and banana*~

  The undead ponies were taken aback by the expression of self-satisfaction upon Macho's face.

  "What?" muttered Dolph, taking a step backward.

  Machoponi nodded his head over to the baccarat table piled with fruit. He spoke slowly, with blank eyes, like a poni possessed: "Take the strawberry and banana, mush them together. Eat them, then follow with a chocolate mint."

  Expressions of fear came across the undead ponies' faces.

  Dolph chuckled uneasily. "That's ridiculous," he said. "Strawberry and banana are two separate fruits. It is unnatural to combine them!"

  "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!