Varnish of Coveted Notoriety

In most cases, right behind the most coveted faces in your Neighborhood, dwell rogue gnashers. They’ve got you rushing to mimic their elegance, or chutzpah, and if they see (through all their worshipers) that you aren’t, they’ll target you for suppression - in some cases hard enough to dig yourself a grave. Did flunkies expect to gain some kind of peace treaty? Well if they did, they only got cheated: a truce that wasn’t fit for mom to stick to the refrigerator. No matter how many times you scratch their back, or lick their boots to polish, if you think it will earn you mercy, think again: they sacrifice their own as often as they pet themselves in a mirror.

Our schoolyard had a dictator, and Kingpins (outside of meritocracy) are typically blackmailing the less charismatic to screen the abuse. Not only did the Mob strong-Arm the student populace with liquid ease, it was utterly insulting how often school staff played none-the-wiser to provocation of subject after subject. Peers content to let the taunting slide lest they be next on the list to endure likewise humiliation.

To tolerate the usage of people as utensils & commodities, even out of fear, just breeds more of the same infringed respects. But I too feared his clout enough that I rarely shielded someone from their claws, as it just seemed to drag me into more trouble.

On your vanilla day, I’d leave the Rat to sling his dung around—he was always chipping in a bold judgment here, another there, wherever else they could bloom weeds of drama—but having uncorked my lid on Buck, I had festered enough ammunition to spit some lip at the smug fledgling.

“So big deal guys,” I began, my shoulders pulling even with the leader, “Buck can’t keep his trap shut. What’s new? Sure, he’s not exactly his brother’s frame, but if he was timid we would’ve scheduled a man better equipped for the job, saayyy... like Gwain.”

Hardly an eyelash was batted from the formation over my speech, six of us (minus Buck) roughly cruising in a fluid line— until I mentioned this name of His Highness’ right hand, the giraffe of a guy who got all the rebounds for the basketball team. And who had been a slow-poke No-Show this morning.

To my left heads snapped to the side with frightening speed, and the meandering line of us shattered to halt. Concerned eyes fastening into me. Their mouths twitched, entreating me to somehow take back what I had said. In the dim shadows, the contours of several bewildered rubberneckers belonged strictly in a horror film.

Only tiny Trent, could be noticed emerging a separate emotion, an eager sneer crinkling around his portly nose and lips. Beady eyes swam with high anticipation in their sockets, gleaming beneath some cotton-like hair of Rusty tincture. He had a tendency to think conflict and drama was hysterical (so long as it did not involve him).

I was gearing up to goad Dallweed into a committing a foolish step. Today, with Gwain absent from the atmosphere, I could potentially rough him around as a little inside joke, where I could mock his Iron Teeth style for the rubber dentures they were, without the threat of undermining his empire via public damage. Why pose a laughingstock to his System? Mainly because I was in perfect position to exact some vengeance on behalf of all the victims whom he relentlessly harassed. Although I did not want to pose any real revolution to his Jurisdiction at home.

That could prove nasty disturbances for my colleagues, not to mention, if successful, his replacement probably wouldn’t be much better. At any rate, for once in a blue moon we were partners in crime, so I could really only meddle with his peace of mind. Brawling could only hinder the process of trying to reach a deal upon shady Merchandise.

Hardly had I time to let the thrill of the moment sink in before the Boss wheeled to oppose me. I bristled in efforts to curtail a gut-punch as his wiry figure bore down on me. But no flying appendage came zinging around from behind his body, so my muscles eased inTension.

His thorny miniature 'doo rose out over his forehead like a chunk of Asphalt, eclipsed in darkness only by a ferocious scowl. Attempting to literally look down upon me he craned his neck and leaned in closer; steamed bronze eyes coruscating as they leveled with mine. While no doubt he had a couple inches on me in height, his torso wasn’t especially sturdy, so he chose to always pack Burly Ushers around him to avoid getting involved physically. Which meant if it got super chippy, I could pretend I was going to breach the inexperienced Bonehead before the Prowley siblings (the only nearby giants) could stop me.

Hehe. I couldn’t wait for what might spring out his mouth.

“Didn’t I tell you we would NOT be further discussing Gwain's incident! or was my message unclear?” he demanded.

In a more public location he refused to even glance at me funny ever since the two instances when I was cornered and had to smash two of his cronies to the floor using only a basketball. I didn't exactly come out of that fight unscathed, to which my vengeance a week later i splashed his pre-game sneakers with acid from the science cabinet. Then I warned him next time it’d be a pair of Assless chaps: - (that whole stunt had cost my parents $4,000 credits, but it bought people at school some breathing room).

“Well, I mean it Ain't Guano's fault he can't be here today,” I quipped. "Incorrect?"

The grinding of teeth was unmistakable. “That's not his name," he snarled. "And what is all that supposed to mean to me, Asshat?!”

He was right, Guano didn't mean Gwain; it meant poop sprayed from above in spanish.

“According to you he took a hard 'Fowl,' -" I mused. "Conveniently, this morning.”

“Bone-jarring,” he said with murder on the mind. “SO?” he pressed.

"SoOo, he tags along wherever you go. I think you’d agree that without his attendance you're feeling more insecure than usual, on an assignment that could very well place your Reputation in doubt.” I paused to let that sink in.

“We don’t have time for games, Cauldonest. Get to the point.”

I snickered inaudibly. “Oh, I don’t see that implication as any mere game, Teeth.” I bit back, deploying his surname also.

“Thanks for clearing that up Mister Riddler,” he rasped. “Don’t insult my intelligence!”

“Tssk tssk, Brickhead, that’s no way to speak to your elders. You may be the loudest monkey in Town, but you ain’t the Biggest Reptile out in this district. Sorry you didn't recognize that I was *pointing* at your unagreeable social skills; I find it pathetic you have to strain so hard to figure out what others are trying to suggest that you rip those designer britches of yours.”

Over a muscle shirt, he was wearing a designer Top right now, despite the environment.

"What I'm hearing is that you're trying to get others to view me in weakness & mutinize me!" he rasped. "But there's nothing to doubt when I'm in command, cause history shows my homies stay in line." He beamed and glanced around him, trying to stoically check how many were taking that seriously. “Now stop cracking me a concussion with animal cracker jokes that stink as bad as your Buffalo sauce breath,” he spat out, & then wretched a nauseous gesture within his mouth.

He'd actually made a useful point. I really needed to reach back for an encore above grade school to induce a detri'Mental cut.

“Oh, you wanna make this about edibles? Well I suspect you’re the type who eats muffins for breakfast - the Meadow kind. Do you chew Meadow muffins to wake up your day?”

“I don't know that brand, or what my diet has anything to do with this, but since my breakfast is on the table,” he stopped & searched again for chuckles to fertilize his ego, “I’ll let you know what’s really on my plate: Stage props like you, GRINDING their teeth while suspended from the limelights. Disrespectful comments toward my ‘behind-the-$cenes’ amigos won't be tolerated, you twinkle*fairy.”

Oh, did i mention I was a hobbyist playwright? He was playing on hidden rope-and-pulley tricks by saying “behind the Scenes” -- meaning sabotaging my workspace or theater buddies away from view. From my ears to Boot'tips engorged with palpitations of heat. I realized this had become an inadequate attempt to sting his pride, as my emotional zeal hadn't been prepared for him to target my core endeavors & helpers. Chief desire pleaded to throttle a barrage of contusions all over him.

It’s somewhat hard to recall what had spiked my enthusiasm to join this volunteer mission in the first place since Buck & Capone had to be thrust in the midst. Lured by the prospects of Mega-weapons, a Phoenix, and Marshland Merchant negotiations rumored to hold hexes? Yeah. Some Trifecta like that.

“Let me tell you a little secret: let me dumb it down for you, Butt-munch,” I responded with a little squint on my brow and a nod in my chin; “Meadow muffins are delivered by the same guys who make cow pies. Now There’s a little behind-the-barn journey I invite you to take. By all means, pick the sweetest berries you find!”

I saw rage twitch under his nose, but unfortunately, he managed to collect himself. “Good. For a second there, I thought your secret was gonna be an actual secret; as in something I didn’t already know!”

“Goodness Ca-phony,” I teased in Penny’s prominent voice, “you are a NatioNull Treazzure.” And she really did say things like that to him. Was she sincere? Be it far from me to know; I didn’t touch those types with a Sniper.

Shucks though, I’m such a hypocrite: I had just touched the Kingpin with his poser gal. His smirk dissolved and his paws came to my attention. They closed and opened lividly. "Get your words out of her mout! -- I mean, her words in your mouth - that's grand auto theft!" Yesyesyes. He was standing on the threshold of my trap. Just one more nudge…

I pushed, “Wanna know what I think?”

“If it’s something remotely unpleasant, keep it to yourself," he tightened. "Unless you’re fond enough of this cesspool to be buried in it.”

I drew in a long breath, and before my nerves could fail me I purrrred, “I think you should consider... getting a new Brony Pony to cover your ass. Or did you just miss the message about cowards and how they make such reliable pals?”