//------------------------------// // Chapter Four: Poncho & The House // Story: Llamas: A Drama // by SkelePone //------------------------------// LLAMAS a drama CHAPTER FOUR: PONCHO & THE HOUSE by SkelePone The smile on the realtor pony’s face was blindingly white. Poncho knew for a fact that the smile had to be fake, but he wondered why it had to be so bright. So white. And clean. The smile was just so… smiley. But Poncho did not voice his negative opinions on the realtor’s toothy grin as she took him on the tour of what must have been the millionth house they had visited that sunny afternoon. Yes, a house. It is a common fact that all llamas are nomadic by nature, for they have never had any actual need to house themselves. They had protective Guard Llamas like Bronco and thick coats of wool to protect themselves. They did not properly settle down, unless they desired to partake in a wedding or a meeting with another herd. Even then, the settling would last only for a week or so before the herds departed once more on their constant journey across the Alpaca Mountain Range. Such was the way of a llama's life. Keep moving, and keep looking for a better place. Which was almost exactly what Poncho was doing right now. Poncho’s little herd had been spending several days lounging about Twilight Sparkle’s castle, occasionally going out to meet the many kindly (and occasionally not-so-kindly) residents of Ponyville, Princess Twilight had been very lenient with the llama herd on the matter of them staying with her, but now she insisted that the llamas buy their own dwelling. The idea was rather silly to Poncho. The idea of llamas living in a house like they were ponies? It really was rather ridiculous. He did not seek out an argument with the kindly Princess; however the task of finding a house that Poncho liked proved difficult, to say in the least. At least the other members of his herd had gone with the Princess’ friends to integrate themselves into the Ponyville society, something that Poncho was fairly thankful for. He would not be able to concentrate on finding a home for his herd if they were there occupying every moment of his thoughts. Even now, as he trotted from house to house with the realtor mare, he felt a small little voice in the back of his head nag to him about the safety of his herd. What is any of them were injured while he was gone? What if one of them got lost? Strayed too far from the village and, Poncho prayed to the llama gods and goddesses for it not to be reality, entered that horrible dark forest that the Princess had warned them about? Poncho shook the silly worryings from his head, his banana-shaped ears flapping about. He didn’t have time to worry about problems that his herd would never encounter while under his charge. For now, the only thing he should be worrying about was how he had to find the perfect house for them to stay in. One large enough to house them all comfortably without any of them growing wearing of those around them. One that was not too expensive, for the Princess of Friendship had only lent them but a few large sacks of golden bits from the Royal Treasury. One that was sturdy enough to withstand the havoc that could be caused by a house full of llamas. There were millions of possibilities and thousands of little issues Poncho felt he had to take into account. This couldn't be just any house. It had to be a house for his family. He started to finally pay attention to the tours at a small, simple brick house. A friendly mute white unicorn mare wearing headphones and a gray elegant mare, who was practicing viola, were polite neighbors that Poncho found he could tolerate somewhat. But that was one of the only good things about the house. The bad aspects of it were very apparent, however. It was small. Not enough room to hold ten llamas comfortably. Especially when one of them was a growing cria. They would want a much bigger home. “Next,” Poncho grumbled, repeating his own thoughts, “we will need a bigger home.” As they pulled away from the brick house, Poncho was suddenly frightened by a deep bassy sound that resembled music. The music, unlike any other that Poncho had ever heard before (he actually thought it was the bellows of a dying manticore at first), was that little miracle of electronic music that ponies called 'dubstep'. The bassy wubs pouring out of the neighbors’ house and thundering across the lawn were punctuated by a high-pitched shrieking that rather sounded like the prim and proper gray mare they had met. “VINYL! TURN THAT BLASTED MUSIC DOWN! NOW!” Poncho sure was glad he hadn’t chosen that house. The next house that the unicorn realtor showed Poncho was a beautiful white mansion sitting upon a tall grassy hill. First of all, the price tag was outrageous. Princess Twilight had loaned the llamas several sacks of bits but they had nowhere near enough to purchase such an extravagant and high-class building. Poncho already felt the desire to leave as soon as he stepped his cloven hooves upon the marbled wood floors. “Next house. We do not have anywhere near enough to pay for this.” “Very well! Don’t worry, Mister Llama! I’m sure you will absolutely adore this next house!” “Over my dead body.” Poncho grouched. The next house she showed him was a cottage, on the outskirts of Ponyville. It was located directly upon a clover meadow, the leafy plants sprouting up in bright yellow flowers all over the place. The cottage itself was beautiful, and it’s wooden exterior reminded him somewhat of the cabins at Fort Fresh Hooves. Poncho thought for several moments about the property. It was perfect. Too perfect… “What’s the catch?” Poncho asked, squinting at the realtor mare with distrust. She kept right on smiling. “No catch! What you see is what you get! Furniture included!” She bubbled in a falsely cheery voice. Poncho grimaced and studied the plush couch. He sat carefully in it, observing the other furnishings of the sitting room. A lamp. A chair. A small table in the center of the room. He looked up to study the small, simple chandelier. It didn’t so much as flicker. Too perfect… As they trotted from room to room, Poncho struggled to find something, anything wrong with the cottage. Nothing. The bathroom gleamed and shone with a clean porcelain throne in the center of it all. A large bathtub was sealed into the corner, large enough to be a perfect fit for a llama. It was perfect. Ridiculously perfect. Poncho considered shaking it off and saying it was too perfect, and they needed a less perfect house. But he couldn’t. The house was just so perfectly perfect that he couldn’t bare to just let it sit here unowned. “How many bits again?” Poncho mumbled to the realtor. She beamed even more widely. “Asking price is five hundred bits!” “Five hundred?!” “That’s what I said! Five hundred bits.” Poncho took one final sweep of the entire house, followed eagerly by the bubbly realtor pony. Poncho made sure to study, sniff, trot upon, and question about every nook and cranny of the cottage. He had to find some sort of flaw somewhere. Anywhere! But there was none. “No, there’s no bats in the attic, sir!” “No, the roof’s tiles won’t leak in a thunderstorm, sir!” “Yes, if you wanted to keep a pet leopard in the basement, the concrete wouldn’t get clawed up, sir!” The realtor mare seemed unfazed by Poncho’s intense interview. The russet llama only wanted what was best for his herd. And even though he felt that his herd would be much better off remaining as nomads, he knew in his heart that they could not be fully integrated into Ponyville society without properly settling themselves into a home. The cottage, as perfect as it was, was going to have to do. “Very well,” Poncho grunted, “consider it sold.” The realtor’s happy and bubbly demeanor immediately vanished, replaced by an exhausted and grouchy persona. “Good. We’ll have paperwork to do back at headquarters. That’ll be twenty bits down payment and then you pay the rest once we get to the office just outside Ponyville Town Hall.” Poncho dug a cloven hoof around the pack on his back and pulled out a small jingling burlap sack of bits. He tossed it to the realtor, who scooped it up and carefully counted out every gold coin with a dragon-like greed burning in her eyes. Her face went slack again as she nodded in approval at the llama. Satisfied with her payment, the realtor pony turned around and kicked into a trot that took her out the front door, leaving Poncho alone inside. He had just bought a house.