As the trio walked along the bridge outside Ponyville, they stopped to admire the flowing river underneath it. “What do you suppose she sees in him?” asked Featherweight.
“Who sees in who?” Chowder asked back.
“Sweetie Belle and Snips!” Featherweight grumbled, “I mean, you wouldn’t say they were close at school. In fact I think he practically repulsed her. But now there they are, Ponyville’s leading singing sensation and… him, doing Celestia knows what!”
“I would say it was the Opposites Retract Theory.” said Pipsqueak, “I mean you have to look at it in that way, Sweetie Belle has developed and obtained the same grace and poise her sister Rarity has, all eyes darting towards her whenever she enters the room, hearts spinning and turning in a stallion’s chest when she opens her mouth and an angelic note travels to your ears; whereas when Snips enters the room the only thing spinning and turning, is everyponys’ stomach. So I guess it makes sense.”
Chowder and Featherweight turned their heads to look at Pipsqueak, as if saying that what he had just said did not in fact make any sense at all. But they had known Pipsqueak long enough to accept his random theories and not argue with them, because he would always retort with an even bigger and ridiculous theory to back it up.
“So how come that theory doesn’t work for me and Apple Bloom?” asked Chowder, “I’m pretty sure I repulse her, so why isn’t she dragging me behind trees?”
“Well, I wouldn’t say you repulse her, it’s more of an irritation and the fact that you simply exist.” smiled Pipsqueak, “Maybe that’s why it’s not working.”
Chowder lowered his head sadly, but then he perked back up and said, “So what you’re saying is I have to repulse her to win her?”
Featherweight chuckled, walked over to Chowder and put a hoof on his shoulder, “Listen you scruffy twit,” he said, “remember the old saying, ‘If at first you don’t succeed, give up you’ll live longer’.” and with that, he walked off the bridge and followed the road back into Ponyville, Pipsqueak right behind him, giggling while Chowder brought up the rear trying to make sense of everything they had just discussed.
Before they headed for Ponyville General Hospital, they decided to pay a visit to Dinky Hooves and see how she was coping with Spades’ absence. She hadn’t been to see Spades ever since he checked in, and the trio had warned her not to go, because Cillit always sat by his bed everyday and she wasn’t even aware that her son was secretly mating with somepony she never knew existed. Dinky had tried to persuade them that if she explained that her mother was the Mailmare she may be more open to her, but they told her that would not work, ever since her mother had accidently crashed into Cillits’ flowerbed and had caused some of the dirt to fly through the open window and land on her carpet. Cillit spent the whole weekend scrubbing the carpet clean, while Spades spent two nights in the garden shed, but they knew Spades would sneak over to Dinky’s after his mother had gone to bed, and then come back before she woke up.
As they walked up towards Dinkys’ residence, they could see that she had hung out her washing to dry along the front garden, Pipsqueak and Featherweight felt slightly embarrassed as they walked past the wet night gowns and stockings, but Chowder slowed down to get a longer look until Featherweight came back and dragged by the hood up towards the door. Pipsqueak tapped four times.
There she was in the door frame; slim and elegant, completely different from the clumsy filly they knew from school. She had thin, sturdy legs and her light yellow mane, which use to stick up like her mothers’, was now curled and flowed down the length of her neck. She was wearing a silver necklace that Spades had once given her, and a pair of her best earrings; she looked as if she was planning to go somewhere.
“Dinky we keep telling you, it’s no good.” chuckled Pipsqueak, “You can’t go and visit Spades while he’s in hospital, not while Cillit’s there.”
“I wouldn’t mind him being on his own.” Dinky sulked, “But from the way he talks about her, it’s as if she doesn’t even like her own son. Look, come in for a minute.” she smiled, allowing the trio to pass her through the door.
Her sitting room was quite small, but cosy. A small table stood in front of the window with two wooden chairs, and she had one armchair and a sofa squeezed into the space. On the mantelpiece were some little knick-knacks that her mother had brought back from her ‘travels’ with her boyfriend, which included a silver sphere with a slight dent in it, a green object that looked like a seed pod opened out and was burnt around the edges, and above the mantel was a silver futuristic looking weapon with a plaque underneath saying: ‘De-mat Gun: can cause victims to be erased from time’.
“Sit down, I’ll get some glasses.” said Dinky, walking through a side door that led into the kitchen. Pipsqueak, Featherweight and Chowder sat down on the sofa, their eyes looking around at the strange objects around them. “Does she stay there for the whole hour?” she called out to them.
“Every minute.” Pipsqueak replied back, “All she ever does is knit.”
Dinky came back out, looking confused, “She goes to visit her son, and all she does is knit?” she asked as the three stallions nodded their heads, “Seriously, she could at least show some compassion for him. Alright, I can’t go and see him, but I have baked him some more of my buns.”
Featherweight sat up straight at hearing this, his eyes widened and looking at Pipsqueak and Chowder, who had the same reaction, “Oh sweet Celestia, not more of her buns.” he whispered. No one had the heart to tell Dinky that her home made buns were less than satisfactory, especially Spades who would always accept one just because she would put so much effort into them; many of his friends use to joke about that was how he got ill in the first place.
Dinky entered back into the room, using her magic to levitate a tray with four glasses on it, four cans of beer and a patterned biscuit tin where she kept the buns, “If you want one, I’ve got plenty.” she told them as she lowered the tray.
“Thanks Dinky, but we’ll just take the beer thank you.” said Chowder, taking a can and glass off the tray.
Pipsqueak filled his glass and lifted it slightly in a toast, “Well, here’s wishing all the best to Spades.” he said as Featherweight and Chowder lifted their glasses as well.
“While you’re over there, can you ask him to write?” asked Dinky, “I’ve only ever had that one letter you got off him.” they watched as she went over to pick up her bag off the floor, Chowder’s eyes followed down from her raised flank to her hindlegs, his mouth open slightly, unaware that while he was pouring his beer, none of it was going In the glass. Dinky sat down in the only remaining chair, unfolded the letter and began to read.
"Dear Dinky.
Have I left my wallet over at your place? There's a stallion in here with a hernia who says he knows your mother from school. I'm still unsure when they'll let me out, but I'm doing fine.
Spades."
Dinky’s eyes were slowly welling up with tears as she read it, “It’s been three weeks, and that’s all the news I’ve had.” she said quietly.
“Cheer up, Dinky.” said Pipsqueak, “We’ve been keeping in posted, and don’t worry about Spades, we’ve heard that they’ll be letting him out tomorrow.”
“Well that’s some good news.” Dinky smiled, her eyes going back to the letter, “But who’s this pony with a hernia who knows my mother?”
“You don’t think it’s that one in the corner, do you?” Chowder asked.
“What, with the screens around him?” chuckled Featherweight, “No, they don’t usually put screens around a hernia.”
“Well they put screens around my Uncle Dyson when he went in.” said Chowder.
“Yeah, but maybe it was just compulsory around your Uncle Dyson.” sniggered Pipsqueak, as he poured more beer into his glass.