“Come on guys! Who’s gonna show me what they got?”
 
Surrounded by a bar full of rowdy stallions, the earth pony mare rush of adrenaline as they all cheered her on. Stallion after stallion, almost every one came up to try beating her in a hoof-wrestling match. But nopony could match Spittoon Spur, long-time champion of just about everything she did. She lived for the thrill of winning, as she easily pinned down each and every hoof that gripped hers. It was easy!
 
Maybe too easy.
 
Sure, Spittoon loved herself some sweet victory, but none of these stallions were giving her a challenge. Why, they were wimps. Almost as bad as Royal Splendor, bless that water-sippin’ city boy’s heart. She wanted to work for her winnings; she had to admit she was getting tired of having victories handed to her. There had to be somepony who would give her a run for her bits.
 
”Who else thinks they can beat me, huh? Show yourself!”
 
The stallions roared with drunken applause, but not a single one stepped up. Probably scared of how I darn near broke the last guy’s arm, Spittoon thought. She was getting impatient.
 
”What, I’m in a room full o’ stallions, yet I’m the only one with balls? COME ON!” She took a gulp of her beer and slammed it down emphatically. “What are ya, pansies?”
 
“I’m not.”
 
All heads turned around to the source of the voice, at the back of the room. The crowd cleared for the grayish-purple unicorn stallion as he made his way towards the Spittoon.
 
She cocked an eyebrow. “An’ who do ya think you are? Some kinda outta-towner?”
 
”Yes,” the stallion said coolly. “My name is Ski Jump, former gold medalist of the Equestria Games. Current fitness trainer. I challenge you to a hoof-wrestle.”
 
”Do ya now?” Spittoon laughed. “Well, I ain’t goin’ easy on ya. Y’know, I’m the champion ‘round these parts, but we’ll see what ya got. Make yer bets, Medal Boy.”
 
And so Ski Jump sat across from the mare, flexing his arm as she grabbed his hoof. Spittoon shoved with all her might, thinking this would be an easy win…but it wasn’t! His foreleg was as hard as stone as he smirked at her. Now this was a challenge.
 
Spittoon’s bar buddies cheered both of them on loudly, but neither seemed to be making gains over the other as they both struggled. Spittoon found herself actually breaking a sweat for the first time in years.
 
”So ya work out!” She chuckled, letting down her pride just a bit. “Mighty impressive!”
 
“Yes I do,” Ski Jump said through gritted teeth. “I’ve been working out all my life. Forty years.”
 
”Forty, ya say? An older one, I see,” Spittoon smirked. “Just my age, right at my level.”
 
The two ponies remained locked in battle, locked in each other’s gaze, for what seemed like hours. They didn’t know how long it really took, but the drunk stallions eventually broke out into a chorus of “it’s a tie”s. And as much as Spittoon loved winning, she and Ski Jump agreed to stop and call it a draw.
 
”Good game, buddy,” Spittoon spat in her hoof and shook his. “Next time I’ll beat ya!”
 
”We’ll see about that,” he chuckled. “Tomorrow night?”
 
“Deal!” She gave his back a good-natured slap and watched him go. Tomorrow night, she would be challenged once again.
 
Tomorrow night, she would meet her equal.