A jeep speeds down the road though the cold night. It skids into the dirt parking lot of the Cornfield Meet, nearly hitting a yellow pony and his date.
“Hey, what’s your bag, dipstick?”
The pony shouts.
Captain Jousting, accompanied by First Sergeant Caltrop and two MP’s, ignores the pony, and dismount the jeep.
Captain Jousting looks around and points to a pickup truck.
“That his truck?”
1SG Caltrop nods. “Yessir.”
“Did you have fun?”
Bombproof asks as the couple walks towards the exit.
Terra gives him a hug, nodding into his shoulder.
“I did.”
In this embrace, Bombproof felt happy. This night had truly been the best of his life. How could it get any better?
“SPECIALIST BOMBPROOF!!!” A voice shouts, startling both ponies.
They release each other quickly, to look for where the voice came from.
“…ohheavenhelpme…” Bombproof squeaks.
It came from 1SG Caltrop, whose face is contorted with righteous, lower-enlisted-hating fury as he steps into the light of the faire, his deep violet coat otherwise blending very well into the night. He seems to almost materialize out of the darkness itself, as if formed straight from the pits of SNCO Hell.
“Boy, you’re in a heap of trouble!”
Caltrop yells as he approaches the couple.
He sees Terra, and a sickeningly sweet grin comes to his face.
“D’aaww! Look, Cap’in, he’s got himself a wittle girlfwend!”
he calls behind him before breaking out in cruel laughter. Also fading into the light of the parking lot from naught, bringing up Caltrop’s rear, Captain Jousting approaches them.
Unlike the First Sergeant, his face is even, yet the very air around him distorts with the runoff from his internal fury. This entire illusion is shattered, however, as he lays eyes on the new couple. His mouth drops open, and he takes an involuntary step back.
“Terra?!”
he exclaims.
“Dad?!”
Terra shouts, her own features twisted into a mask of horror as she takes an involuntary step closer to Bombproof.
“DAD?!”
Caltrop and Bombproof respond simultaneously, creating a perfect harmony of bafflement and disbelief.
“Oh… You’re DEAD Bombproof!”
Cpt. Jousting screams, lunging past Caltrop, going straight for our intrepid hero. Bombproof shrieks and cowers, but Terra bravely steps in front of him, staring her father down.
“No! Leave him alone!”
“Terra, this doesn’t concern you!”
Jousting growls through gritted teeth, stopping just short of the pair, nearly nose to nose with his daughter,
“Now move aside so I can rip his face off!”
“Not my face!”
Bombproof whimpers.
“This does concern me!”
Terra spits back, unafraid, her eyes shining with indignation,
“You always chase off every guy I meet!
“First! I wouldn’t have to if you didn’t have such a terrible choice in men! Second! He’s enlisted under my command! So this is 100% my business!”
Jousting growls, matching her volume and ferocity. A crowd has begun to form around the group; the MP’s are trying their level best to keep everypony moving,
1SG Caltrop just cackling off to the side.
“Boy, you’re in a heap of trouble…”
Caltrop mutters to Bombproof, who looks like he may drop an MRE at any point.
“Step aside!”
Jousting shouts, his voice growing hoarse, veins standing out in his neck, ignoring Caltrop, Bombproof, and the gathering crowd – having only eyes for Terra.
"What would mom say about this!?"
Jousting’s eyes narrow, and his brow furrows.
"Don't bring her into this!”
He replies,
“She isn’t here! I am, and I am telling you to step aside!"
Terra tenses, and then relaxes. Her frown remains, but her eyes soften and her gaze fades, as if lost in the distant past.
"Dad, before she -"
Jousting interrupts her, his voice barely above a mutter.
“I told you: don’t bring her into this…”
Terra ignores him, and her voice grows, feeding on her indignation.
"When you weren't around, I would ask her why she ever got married to you. You guys are, like, nothing alike!
"You know what she told me? She told me she married you because you made her happy, a kind of happiness nopony else could give."
Terra looks back at Bombproof.
“I never understood, but now I think I do. Bombproof, he makes me happy."
Jousting stares at his daughter with a deep consideration. He too seems to be lost to memory – memories of a happier time.
"Ok...You win."
He acquiesces, defeated. Jousting looks up at our intrepid hero, his voice once again becoming hard and loud – the fabled Command Voice.
“Bombproof!”
“Yessir, O Kind and Merciful and Amazing Captain Jou-“
Bombproof begins.
“Shut up.”
Cpt. Jousting orders.
Bombproof’s mouth closes so fast he nearly bites off his own tongue.
“You know you’re in trouble, right?”
“Sir, whatever fear I previously held for you has been multiplied a hundred times in the past five minutes.”
Jousting nods.
“No lies. Explain everything.” He commands,
“And give me back my damn uniform!”
A short explanation later, Cpt. Jousting looks more impressed than angry.
“You really did all that?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.
“I’m sorry, sir, I just really, really wanted to see the meet…”
Jousting shakes his head and sighs, defeated. He knows that there isn’t much more to do at this point, and that in the end, despite severe insubordination and general tomfoolery, this pony made Terra happy.
“Well alright…next time I’ll not turn a blind eye. Understand?”
Bombproof nods stiffly in slight disbelief.
“What do I owe you sir? Please not my face…”
“You’re going to be kind to Terra, and treat her with respect…”
Jousting says slowly. He leans in close to Bombproof, and continues.
“Or you know what happens.”
He whispers dangerously.
“D-don’t worry sir! I’ll off myself for you and save you the trouble sir!”
“You know,”
Terra interrupts,
“I think there’s a fireworks show next Saturday. You could take me, if you wanted...”
“Oh, Saturday the guys n’ I are-“
he begins, before catching the gaze of Cpt. Jousting.
“Uh, I mean, uhm, sounds great! I’m sure the guys can get along just fine without me. 1900 hours good?”
He amends quickly. Terra smiles, and surprising both herself as well as Bombproof, gives him a peck on the cheek.
She immediately looks furtively away. Bombproof stands motionless in shock.
Jousting nods approvingly, choosing to ignore this last show of nascent affection.
“Now get back to the post, you have KP tomorrow!” He commands.
“YES SIR!”
Bombproof runs as fast as he can, starts his truck, and speeds off into the night. By the skin of his teeth, our hero escapes the grasp of the military justice system. And found himself a new unlikely friend. All in all…it was a good day.
So what about poor old Greenbroke, stuck alone on KP whilst his friend and comrade has all sorts of adventures? Is he doomed to a boring day of dishes and potato peeling? Will he, too, find love in unexpected places? Will be make something explode? Let’s have a look:
MSG Martingale walks into the empty mess hall, surveying the area. His eye falls upon a sleeping Corporal Withers, with his hoof tied to a tripwire. Martingale stomps on the wire hard, causing Withers to be launched from his seat and hang, upside-down, in midair.
“M-mornin’ Sarge!” he greets, “Have you lost weight?”
Martingale says nothing, only lifts his hoof, dropping Withers hard on the floor. He looks at Greenbroke, who is busily moving about the ovens with an apron on and flour on his face.
“Private Greenbroke, what in the Nine Burning Hells are you doing?”
Greenbroke looks up, surprised to see the sergeant there, and snaps to.
“I finished my duties, and am now making muffins master sergeant!”
he explains, pointing to a scrap of paper on the counter.
Martingale’s single remaining pupil shrinks to a pinpoint as he reads the paper, titled “Bombproof’s Amazing Exploding Muffins of Friendship and Awesome”.
“Get down!”
He shouts, tackling Greenbroke to the floor.
The explosion has nothing on what was witnessed by the attendees of the First Annual Battlestream Cornfield Meet, but it is terrifyingly impressive nonetheless. Tastier, too. Greenbroke sits up, grinning from ear to ear in exaltation.
“Yes! It works!”
he cheers, not yet seeing the look of pure, unadulterated rage on Martingale’s face.
Some say that was the day Master Sergeant Martingale finally managed to verbally assault a pony to the point that said pony burst into flame. Some say that some ponies are full of shit. Will we ever know? Now that’s a story for another time.