Trottingham; an industrialised town for the masses. Or, at least, it read like that in the brochure. When I arrived from the chilly peaks of Stalliongrad (the cool air had helped relieve the hangover a little bit, but it still lingered like a foul smell over proceedings), the blazing sun of Trottingham was a horrible addition to the cold, mechanised hell that this town represented. I never really like this place, and I thanked Celestia that I wouldn't have to spent too long in this hell.
The only redeeming thing about here is that the Pizza Stable restaurant isn't a complete failure. I pulled up in the XJ220, comfortably ahead of the others, and made my way into the restaurant. Seeing as I was first, I decided to order for everypony that would be with me; a massive square pizza that made a mockery of my appetite and caused the staff to look upon me weirdly. I'm pretty sure they were as confused as it gets when it comes to odd food requests. Thankfully, I had enough spare bits for it, so I took my seat at the table, and waited.
It wasn't long before the first competitor arrived. A silver Nissan GT-R Spec-V came screeching into the car park, the driver sawing at the wheel as the 4WD system shook it's head at the fact it was in the SNOW setting for so long. It didn't like it in the slightest, and you could almost sense the car breathing a sigh of relief when it stopped. Out hopped a white unicorn with a blue and cyan-striped mane and a double-clef cutie mark. She looked slightly flustered, but still composed. She strutted into the restaurant and took note of me in the corner; she immediately advanced in my direction.
"Ah, there you are. I was wondering if I had lost you!" She mused, as she took a seat next to me, which put me right against the wall. "So, I can finally meet you. My name is Vinyl Scratch. What's yours?"
"Blackest Skyline," I said, extending my hoof to shake. "It's a pleasure to meet you at last, Miss Scratch."
"Likewise," she replied, meeting my hoof. "And please, call me Vinyl. So, what's the deal with you? Where were you?"
"I'd like to answer that in a moment, when more ponies are gathered. Until then, do as you see fit, Vinyl."
It wasn't long before the orange Saleen S5S of Applejac and Big Macintosh arrived, followed by some minty green unicorn in a Lamborghini Diablo SV whom I was unaware of. They took a seat at our table and made themself present. The minty green unicorn named herself Lyra Heartstrings; she also turned out to be a musician. Eventually, I gave up waiting on Rainbow dash to arrive, and began.
I managed to explain to the group how I had managed to enter the cellar of the Stalliongrad Arms and get heavily drunk, how I had managed to get a cut head by falling and banging my head against the rough stone walls of the cellar while drunk, and the situation behind my bloody mane and tail. It seemed to captivate them somewhat, and one I stopped, I sat back and waited for response. Soon, I got one, from Vinyl.
"Wow. You, Blackest Skyline, are mad."
I giggled a little. "Sure, perhaps I am, but I still got here first while hungover! I should have a medal for that."
This seemed to be a little too boastful, so I changed topic quickly to the food.
"I hope everypony is hungry, because I got you all lunch!" As if by magic - and it really was by magic - the pizza landed on the table. The pizza itself was as large as the table, and was causing severe levels of hunger to suddenly develop.
"Well, it ain't going to eat itself, is it now?" I roared, kickstarting the eating frenzy. The pizza was gone in less than five minutes, leaving five satisfied ponies.
"Thanks very much for the pizza Black. That was very kind of you to buy us all lunch," Vinyl said, the other three nodding their heads in agreement.
"Well, it's all that I could do to try and make up for me being an ass and drinking all the alcohol." I got up and headed for my Jag. "I'm leaving in ten minutes. Anypony who wants to come with me is welcome."
The journey itself was pretty intense. Everyone left at the same time, and Vinyl again got a fantastic start. Unfortunately, she just couldn't keep up with the others after that and dropped back, even suffering at the hands of the traffic. Lyra also seemed to have a problem in the Diablo SV; she suffered from excess tyre wear from the rear tyres, mostly due to the 874hp that her Diablo SV was displacing, and getting tailed by some mystery DeLorean DMC-12. However, I just cannot fault the team of Applejack and Big Macintosh, because whoever was driving that S5S knew how to drive. I was trying hard to keep up, but I eventually had to settle with an end time of 37:18.974, about 4.5s off the time set by the S5S.
I'm going to have to buy Big Macintosh a drink in Buckston to congratulate. Perhaps a drinking contest is in order? Not right now though, the hangover's still lingering unfortunately.
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