//------------------------------// // “How's 'bout we skip work & protest to legalize weed instead?” // Story: Misadventures in Manehattan // by The Princess Rarity //------------------------------// EVENT THREE: Daily Commute “Hurry up!” Grace called. “I am!” Coco hollered back. “You have a shorter mane and tail than me, how long does it take to brush it?!” Grace groaned. She looked at her wristwatch and sighed. “I’m leaving without you if you’re not done in one minute! The train arrives earlier than a cab, y’know! And you can’t catch another one once ya miss it!” Coco rushed out of the bathroom and adjusted her hairpin. “Ok, ok, I’m here,” she said quickly. She picked her saddlebags up off of the floor and hoisted them on. “Did you get lunch?” Grace rolled her eyes. “Yes, Mom,” she retorted sarcastically. “Now, let’s get the hay out of here.” She swung open the door, and winced at the sound of screaming from everypony else in their complex. Another downside of living in an apartment - having little to no separation from their neighbors. It didn’t help that they lived next door to some really crazy ponies… “Vinyl, why did you waste all your entire paycheck on a stereo system we will never use?!” “Aw, c’mon, Tavi-babe, don’t hate me because I’m beautiful!” “That doesn’t even make any sense!” “Your face doesn’t make any sense!” “I swear, I’m married to a foal.” “A very sexy foal.” “...You’re sleeping on the couch tonight for that sick joke.” Grace shoved a hoof in her mouth to prevent herself from laughing out loud at the dialogue from the ponies who lived next door. Meanwhile, Coco was just shaking her head. The two of them listened to the screams of other ponies, mixed in with the few cries and wails of children. Grace was about to push the button for the elevator, when her jaw fell to the floor as she read a note taped onto the wall. Dear Residents of the Cityview Apartments, The elevators are out of order for this week. They should be back in function by the end of the month. Please use the stairs. Sincerely, Founder / Manager / Landlord Lurch “I hate that mule,” Grace grumbled. “What a creep he is, too.” “Grace, please don’t start--” Coco sighed. “--I’m serious!” Grace argued as she walked over and swung open the door to the stairwell. “Have you seen that guy?” She stretched out a sick, twisted smile and she crossed her eyes. “Not only is the dude ancient but he’s just plain weird. He’s, like, the center of kids’ nightmares.” Coco said nothing and rolled her eyes as she started heading down the steps. “What?” Grace called after her friend. “C’mon, I know it’s not just me! He’s not called Lurch for nothin’!” “G’morning, ladies,” a monotone voice said. It startled both Grace and Coco, who nearly fell off of the platform as they noticed their landlord standing there, staring at them with the same strange grin Grace had mimicked. “Off to work?” the stallion droned, scratching his whiskers. “Y-yessir,” Coco said softly. “That’s nice,” Lurch muttered, with a heavy sigh. “Well, I better go. I gotta go upstairs and clean Miss Tabby’s carpets.” “Ya mean the crazy lady who lives above us?” Grace retorted. “Dude, it’s been over six months since her carpets have started reeking of cat shi-” “-have a nice day, Mr. Lurch, bye!” Coco said quickly as she took her roommate’s hoof and pulled a protesting Grace the rest of the way down. “Didn’t your mother ever wash your mouth out with soap when you were a filly?” “Nope,” Grace smirked. “That’s ‘cause I was smart enough not to swear in front of my ma.” “Of course,” Coco said, with a shake of her head. “So, how do we get to the subway?” “Follow my lead,” Grace declared. She led her friend out of the complex building and they started their trek down the block towards the train station. Weaving one’s way through the crowds of Downtown Manehattan wasn’t an easy task. Like many things in life, it was something that had to be practiced over and over. Grace had been residing in this city for almost a year now, while Coco was still new to the whole routine, what with only being in Manehattan for two months. Keeping up with Grace was a struggle in itself, seeing how she practically ran across the pavement, leaving Coco in the dust. ...however, Grace suddenly halted as a huge crowd passed through the streets, screaming and hollering about something. Signs were being held up, flags flew and ponies were marching around, thus blocking traffic in the process. It didn’t take a genius to find out that this was a protest. “Aw, you gotta be buckin’ kidding,” Grace mumbled. “Move it, hippies!” she yelled. Her words fell on deaf ears as the march continued, and seemed to never end. Coco frowned. “So, how are we going to get to work now?” she asked worriedly. Grace tapped her chin with a hoof and pursed her lips in thought. “I got an idea,” she mused. She took Coco’s hoof and dragged her into the crowd. “Hey, man, what are we protesting ‘bout?” A pale yellow stallion with his green mane tied into dreadlocks looked over to her. “We’re tryna to legalize weed,” he explained. “The governor vetoed it so we’re gonna protest the hay out of it ‘til he lets us be free! This is Equestria!” He shot his hoof up into the air and cheered, while other ponies followed. Grace nodded. “Cool, I smoked weed back in college,” she said. “Mind if my friend and I join ya?” “Wh-what?!” Coco squeaked out. “I - I don’t smoke marijuana, though! I’ve never touched drugs!” Of course, as expected of her, Grace nudged Coco and gave a wink. “How's 'bout we skip work and protest to legalize weed instead?” she asked. It took a moment, but the pieces of the strange puzzle eventually fell into place in Coco’s mind. She faked a smile and a laugh. “Yeah, sure!” she lied. The stallion gave a goofy grin. “Work blows,” he agreed. “Totally!” Grace said, with a genuine smile. “Yo, where can we get one of those signs?” “Go ask Hot Shot, he’s on the other side of the line--” “K, thanks, bye!” Grace replied, as she started trampling over everypony else, while dragging Coco. Finally, after what seemed like forever, the two of them fell out the other side of the line, breathing heavily and faintly smelling of drugs. Fortunately, Coco pulled out a small bottle from her saddlebags and began squirting her friend with it. “Great, now I smell like a hooker!” Grace argued. “It's only perfume,” Coco said, as she spritzed herself. “Besides, do you want the boss to think you do drugs? This masks some of the scent.” She slid the bottle back into her purse when suddenly, Grace noticed a yellow carriage. “Oi, marshmellow, this might just be our lucky day,” she mumbled. She started waving her hooves like a crazy pony. “Hey! You, with the hat! You workin’ that thing?” The mare standing next to the carriage nodded, and waved her wing. “Well, whatdya know,” Grace smiled. “We can get a taxi after all.” As they both began walking over to the cab, Coco knit her eyebrows and stared at her friend. “How do you know what a prostitute smells like anyway?” she asked.