Brotherly Bonding Time

by Sketcha-Holic

13.3--Lost in Manehattan

Little Tommy galloped as fast as his little legs could carry him. He didn't dare look back to see if he had lost that tall foalnapper claiming that he was Cheese. That would require him slowing down, possibly getting caught by the crazy pony and getting shoved back in that diaper. He didn't need a diaper! He was a big boy, completely potty trained since he had been a toddler!

The rhythm of his hooves on the pavement was rapid, accompanied by the yelps and screams of pedestrians, the grinds and squeals of carriages coming to a sudden halt, and the heavy breathing that stung his throat. His eyes were straight forward, guiding him as he weaved through the legs of many adult ponies, around other foals, and straight across streets. He didn't know quite how far he was going, but he wanted to put some distance between him and that not-brother.

Soon, his legs got tired and his feet hurt. Knowing that he was slowing down, he turned a corner, and let himself slow his gallop to a canter, his canter to a trot, and his trot to a walk before he plopped down on his bottom and panted. His forehead had gotten a little moist due to sweat, and his four legs felt like jelly. His lungs were like balloons inflating and deflating repeatedly to put pressure in his little chest, and his grayish pink tongue lolled out as breaths rushed in and out of his stinging throat.

He looked up. Before him was a great junction, with two big streets crossing in an X. On the buildings surrounding those streets, billboards proudly hung over the hundreds of ponies that strolled through the junction, illuminated with lights and boasting the images of products and shows they advertised. The air was humming with the drones and chatters of the ponies around him, with Tomato barely making out phrases such as one pony saying he was gonna be late for something, another complaining about losing his bits, and a mare mumbling about a gang of dogs howling in the subway.

He stood up and trotted around, looking up at the billboards. While he had walked down this road before with his grandparents and brother, the flashing lights never failed to amaze him. Some pictures he was drawn to, like the one with the alicorn witch, another with Spider-Colt, another with snowflakes, and another with a serious-looking lion, that to which he bore his teeth at and growled playfully. From what he was able to read on the billboards, he guessed that there were plays about them or something, since Cheese had told him that there were a bunch of theaters at or near this intersection.

Then it hit him that he was alone. Well, he wouldn't say he was alone since he was in a crowd, weaving through the legs of grown up ponies. Even so, there was no presence of Gramma, Grampa, or Cheese, which was enough for him to feel alone. The buildings stretched up for what seemed to him miles, and he wondered what it'd be like if they got knocked down like his building blocks.

Tomato had crossed the street as he put his mind back on track. He jumped on a lamppost, and leaned from it in order to look around. He felt a pit in his stomach as his eyes darted back and forth, hoping to spot somepony he knew. One side of the street had him picking out some dude with a gold tooth, a mane styled to be shaped like a boot, and a bunch of ponies wearing headbands resembling Mare Harmony's crown. The other side of the street boasted a cowpony strumming his guitar, some guy with a big, bushy mustache, and a quartet of mares dressed like Princess Celestia, that pink princess he forgot the name of, and two other princesses, blue and purple, that he could not recognize. When did they get new princesses?

He pressed his cheek on the post. "Maybe they're home? Yeah, I think they went home." He scowled and hopped off the post, landing with the hardest stomp he could. "I can't believe they left me at the park when I was taking a nap! Ugh, that's really mean!" He stomped forward, ignoring the ponies staring at him. "I'm gonna yell at them so loud for leaving me there and letting a creepy guy put a diaper on me and making me walk home by myself! They better say sorry!"

He paused to find himself at another street just past the junction. He scanned the blocks before him, down the street to his left, and down the street to his right. He looked behind him at the junction, and then back forward, a sense of dread filling up his barrel.

"Uh... which way is home?"

---

Cheese Sandwich told Coco Pommel the story about what happened to Tomato. Much of the story was told after Coco had Flower Garland look after the party site and went with the lanky stallion in search of the runaway colt deep in the city. She merely nodded as Cheese rambled on about a cave, a millennium-old unicorn mare, and Tomato apparently communicating with bats. The farther he went with his story, the crazier he sounded.

"So..." Coco said, trying to process what had just been told to her. "Are you absolutely sure that the Fountain of Youth exists, and that you don't just have some kind of head injury? Because I can take you to a hospital if you do."

Cheese sighed and rolled his eyes. "I think seeing that age-up back at the park should be proof enough. And my head's just fine, no injury present whatsoever." He rubbed his head, thinking, Unless you count a stolen memory as one.

Coco stared at the sidewalk, idly taking note of the rhythm of her hooves and those of the ponies passing them by. "That was rather strange... this entire situation is rather strange..." She looked up at him again. "So, if he's aging up back to being, uh, a college student... what does he look like at that age? You know, in case he ages up again before we find him."

Cheese pulled out the polka dot wallet, opened it, and let a list of pictures fall out. "Here you go."

Coco blinked at the photos before her, and then smiled. "Is that your girlfriend?"

Cheese nearly jumped upon hearing that, and he looked at the string of pictures, which, of course, were of Pinkie Pie being her funny, bubbly self. A belly flop, to some stills of her dancing, several goofy faces, her with her friends, several depicting past party collaborations, and scenes of the Pie-Sandwich duo were among the pictures, and he could feel the heat rising in his face. Coco smiled in a sweet and congratulatory manner as she perused the photos.

He grinned and chuckled nervously as he folded the photos back into the wallet. "Eh, uh, no no! She's just a friend... you know, a fellow party pony? We sometimes throw parties together... in fact we did that just a few days ago!" He cleared his throat and started sifting through the wallet. "Professional relationship."

Coco tilted her head with a curious expression. "Doesn't seem professional to me."

Cheese ignored that last sentence, and unveiled the list of photos which had Tomato in them. "Here we are! Behold the real age of Tomato Sandwich."

Coco examined the photos one by one, starting from the top with him as a tiny foal, and going down to see him grow up, ending with several adult pictures at the bottom. "My, he grows up to be handsome! And yet... so, uh... grouchy." She looked up at Cheese. "How'd that happen?"

Cheese folded the pictures back in the wallet and stored it away. "I don't exactly have all the details, but life in this town essentially beat him down to a shell of his former self." He shook his head, and he and Coco continued forward. "Poor boy has always been sensitive, and he's been trying to hide it in order to protect himself." He sighed. "I don't really like to think about it, since it invariably leads to..."

He went quiet, looking down on the ground as he ambled down the street. A scene of a cold, dark night flashed before him, and he felt as if he was eleven again, with a bindle on his back and his eyes straight forward, scanning the streets with the clearest vision his glasses could provide him. A black hole resided in his belly, sucking every emotion from him to the point that his heart ached. All through his mind, the laughter of bullies, the voice of his mother cracking like a whip, and his own self-deprecating thoughts echoed. At the forefront of his mind, there was a guilty-looking dark-haired colt and a broken accordion. The very sight of those two things together had anger bubbling within him, fueling him forward even as the black hole ate the emotion.

I'm never going back, he thought, feeling the venom in that statement. I'm never going back... I'm never going back... I'm never going back...

"Leads to what?" Coco asked with concern.

Cheese shook his head, and he was back in the present, with several ponies grumbling as they walked around him and Coco. He rubbed his head, cursing himself for flashing back to that fateful night. He reminded himself that he had forgiven Tomato for the accordion incident, that he had been a colt at the time and hadn't been thinking straight, and that he was currently in a happier time of his life. Had Pinkie not been there to open that door, who knows what would have happened?

Thinking about Tomato's transformation from happy colt to grumpy stallion, he wondered if that would have happened.

The thought of himself as a depressed pony with a boring job was uncomfortable. It was enough to start up another dull headache, doomed to sharpen in the near future. Glancing up at the Manehattan skyline, he felt constricted just thinking about all these towers and ponies surrounding him all the time, and these thoughts were already draining him of precious party-planning energy.

He snorted. "Never mind that, Coco. We have a small child to find."

---

At Times Square, Cheese and Coco had approached several ponies, asking if they seen a little colt, rolling out the series of Tomato's photos to show them what he looked like. The responses were varied in tone to say the least.

"Is that your son? Sorry, I haven't seen him."

"Nope, didn't see him, gotta go somewhere, bye!"

"Keep an eye on your kid, stupid!"

"Uh, which one? They all look like the same pony growing up..."

"Why don't you just go to the police?"

"Your Cheese Sandwich costume is great, but your shirt's the wrong shade of yellow."

Cheese gave that pony--one in a group of four dressed as princesses--an odd look. "Eh? Okay, first off, my shirt's not the wrong shade of yellow, it's always been this shade of yellow since I started wearing it. And second... that's not what I was asking."

The mare scoffed. "Whatever. Come on, girls, we can't reason with colts about color. They've always been a bit colorblind."

Cheese furrowed his brow. "Hey!"

The quartet of princess cosplayers giggled as they trotted away, leaving behind an annoyed Cheese and a confused Coco. The former sat and rubbed his temples, grumbling about a headache, while the other patted his back.

"There, there, I'm sure we'll find somepony who spotted him," she said.

Finally, they asked the cowpony on the corner. The cowpony simply pointed to the photo of the five-year-old, confirming that he did indeed see the colt, having been hanging from a lamppost and looking around the square. After expressing that the kid looked lost and pointing the two ponies the direction of where he went, Cheese thanked him and he and Coco went on their way.

"Where do you think he's going?" Coco asked as they left the junction.

"Isn't it obvious? He's either looking for our grandparents and me--eight-year-old me, that is--or trying to go home," Cheese answered. "Problem is, at that age, he doesn't really have a good sense of direction. For all we know, he could have gone in circles and ended up just about anywhere in this town! Heck, wouldn't it be ironic if he circled all the way back to the park?"

"Why don't we go to the police, like that one guy said? They might be able to help."

Cheese shook his head. "As if they'll believe my story about the Fountain. Heck, what'll happen if they do find him? Tommy will just scream and accuse me of kidnapping, and I'll get arrested before I have a chance to explain the situation. So... I'm not too keen on getting the police involved."

Coco rubbed her chin. "I forgot that he can't remember past that age."

Cheese chuckled. "You know, what's funny is that at his toddler stage, he didn't mind hanging around me. Usually, stranger anxiety is a thing at that age, and I'm practically a stranger to him until he's about... uh... I'll say teenager, he'll recognize me then."

They stopped at a corner, and looked forward, left, and right to decide which way they'll go. Cheese continued, "It's like he subconsciously knew that I was big brother Cheesy, even though I'm not five, not wearing my glasses, and very clearly have a different voice."

Coco blinked. "That's strange."

Cheese whickered, and shimmied up the nearest lamppost to hang upside-down from it, much to a few other ponies' confusion. "I wonder if any other repressed memories are poking out like that."

That was when he noticed a red-orange pony in the middle of the street about a block or two away. As far as he could tell, the pony was tiny, had dark hair, and apparently had his hoof stuck on a wad of chewing gum that had been left there. Cheese brightened at the sight and laughed, shouting, "I knew looking from another point of view would help! Tommy at 12 o' clock!"

Coco looked up at him and smiled. "That's wonderful!"

Cheese continued to grin as he kept his eye on the colt, but his jaw dropped when along came a speeding taxi carriage that was around the corner and several blocks away, the number dwindling every second. The carriage had a crying driver and a passenger wielding a whip as he screamed "Faster!" The cracks of the whip rang through the streets, causing a few of the pedestrians to murmur in confusion, including Coco.

Cheese picked up the command of "you better turn left at 41st", and looked at the street signs at the corner that the little pony he was focused on was. His heart stopped when he realized that Tomato was right in that path--and that carriage didn't seem to be slowing down.

His heart resuming back to a heavy drumbeat, he flipped himself right side up and pulled a rubber band out of his mane. He looped it on the lamppost he sat on, and then jumped across the street to loop it onto the other lamppost. Seeing as the bad was secure, he hopped to the middle, leaned his back on it as he descended to the street, and caught a different carriage heading up to the square with his hind leg. He shifted the band's position on his back to make sure it'd launch correctly.

Ponies watched him as he did this, and murmuring loudly about what the hay was this stunt and questioning why he was doing it. Coco in particular shouted, "What are you doing?!"

"Saving my brother, of course!" Cheese replied.

He freed his hind hoof from his ride, and he was slingshotted down the road, zipping straight toward Tomato like a bullet. Ponies ducked and gasped as he zoomed overhead, and before he knew it, just before the whip-happy maniac was around the corner, Cheese grabbed the smaller pony, curled up to protect him, and bounced and rolled down the sidewalk before bumping into a discarded pile of trash. Once there, he uncurled from his ball, and exhaled a great sigh of relief.

He looked up the street, seeing the skid marks and the resulting wreckage of that speeding carriage, and patted the little pony's back. "It's okay, buddy, you're safe now."

Then the other pony said, "Do I know you?"

Wait a minute, that voice is too deep. Cheese's eyes widened, and he held the little pony up in order to examine him. Wait a minute, his eyes are brown! Wait a minute he has a mustache! Processing this new information, he grinned sheepishly, realizing that these factors made this pony decidedly not Tomato.

The little pony glared at him. "Do you mind putting me down?!"

Cheese set him down, and stood up, giving an uncomfortable smile toward the pony he towered over. "Excuse me, sir, but I couldn't help but notice you were stuck in the street, and there was a carriage coming after you, so..."

"I wasn't stuck! I'm an ABC gum collector! And what do you mean by...?" The little pony turned, and jumped at seeing the wreckage. "Holy smokes! You saved my life!"

Cheese rubbed the back of his head. "Oh, uh, it was nothing."

He felt something being slapped into his free hoof, and looked down to find a bag of bits in it. As he stared at the bag, the little pony patted Cheese's hoof, and said, "Get yourself something nice," before trotting off, humming a merry tune.

"Uh... thanks?" Cheese mumbled.

Cheese still stared at the bag, even when Coco finally managed to catch up with him. She paused to catch her breath, though between seeing the pony leave and the bag in Cheese's hoof, she caught on to how that exchange went. After taking a deep breath, she said, "Well... wasn't your brother, but... I suppose those spare bits will be useful in the future."

Without turning to her, Cheese mumbled, "I don't know what to do with this."

---

Little colts were not known to have well thought out plans. An end goal was one thing, but taking the steps to the goal was important, and those details were often tough for them to figure out at that age. Tomato Sandwich was one such colt, and his main goal was to go back home; however, he was smart enough to think of one other step he needed to take in order to achieve said goal: find the bridge or take a ferry.

He remembered that his home was on the other side of a large river--his grandparents always took him and Cheese across a bridge to the main part of the city. If he could just cross it, then finding his house would be easy.

He walked down many streets and turned many corners, hoping to catch the sight of water in his vision. So far, he came across none, just turning around many buildings, from tall to super tall. In turning corners for what seemed like forever, he soon discovered that he was going around in circles like ring-around-the-rosies. With a sigh, he just decided to go straight, figuring he'd hit water sooner or later.

Tomato wandered into one neighborhood, with brick apartments decorated with plenty of fire escapes descending from each floor. Sports courts within cages took up one block, surrounded on three sides by the buildings. There was another building that he swore was a school, several others that were stores (especially the one with the fruit stand), and another that... he didn't quite know. Alleyways boasted graffiti that were half-legible for a five-year-old mind, and one such profane word popped up that put the taste of soap upon Tommy's tongue. Celestia knows that he wouldn't make the mistake of repeating that word again!

As he strolled through the neighborhood, he started to hear a rhythmic tapping. Blinking, he looked around the street before finding the source of the tapping from the basketball court, where a group of teenage colts leaned against the fence all clicked their hooves on the pavement, just glaring off into space.

Tilting his head with a curious pout, Tomato started to copy them.

Across the street, another group of teenagers were just walking past. Their ears twitched as they heard the tapping, and they slowly turned to the first group with narrowed eyes. They responded with their own clicks, walking down that side of the road with spiteful caution.

The first group stood up, and slowly approached the second group, almost in a dance-like motion that made Tomato giggle. The second group turned, and performed different moves while meeting them halfway. Tomato giggled some more as they kept on tapping their hooves, swaying in their steps, and spinning. When the two leaders were face to face, Tomato held his breath, awaiting the musical number he was sure was about to begin.

The first leader gave his rival a shove. After staggering back, the other stomped forward and responded in kind. There came a hoof to the face for the second leader, and he responded with his own, but hard enough that it knocked the first to his rump. The first gang tried to swarm him, but those on the other side were not about to let them do that. Soon, both gangs were caught up in a rumble, varying between rearing up and bashing each other with their front hooves, bucking at each other, and throwing pebbles from the street at each other.

Tomato gasped. "Hey! Stop that! Why are you fighting?"

Only one gang member noticed him, and snapped, "You stay out of this, you little rat!"

Tomato scowled and stamped a hoof. "I'm not a rat!" He stood up and waved his hooves. "Now, stop it! What'd they ever do to you?!"

They still didn't listen, with most unaware that he even existed. Seeing several of the other ponies in the area look straight at him, shake their heads, and wave their hooves across their throats before heading indoors, Tomato realized that he should probably keep his mouth shut. He backed up, seeing that the fight was starting to widen, and he looked around for a place to hide.

Suddenly, he felt something bullet past his ear and nearly slash it, making his heart leap into his throat. Grabbing his ear out of reflex, he took a quick look at what that was, and saw a knife embedded diagonally in one of the brick walls. He remembered the time that he couldn't find the scissors in cutting a piece of paper, so he opted for a knife instead--he ended up needing stitches. With that in mind, a surge of fright overcame him, and he bolted in the other direction, screaming. He didn't want to see if any of those meanies was going to end up hurting him, knife or otherwise, and he didn't even notice some of the residents beckoning him in order to provide him shelter.

"You monster! Your knife nearly killed a kid!"

"You threw the stupid thing!"

---

Cheese peeked out from behind one lamppost, scanning the street for the small colt. Coco followed suit, looking in the opposite direction from Cheese. They looked right, and they looked left, and they looked up and down the streets. So far, no sight of anyone who was even five.

Coco blinked, and they were suddenly across the street, looking out from behind a different lamppost. Dazed from the sudden trip, she quickly looked back and forth and across the street, and shook her head in not being able to spot him.

Another blink, and they were yet at another lamppost at the next corner. She gasped and looked at Cheese, who didn't seem fazed one bit by the sudden teleport from that one side of the street to this corner. She scratched her head, wondering how he didn't even notice.

Another blink, and they were at a different corner. Another had them going down an entire block. And other went another block, scaring a hot dog vendor. Trips that lasted minutes on foot were now literally at the blink of an eye, and Coco was feeling sick to her stomach with these instant trips. She wasn't sure what was happening and why, but with each blink, it was becoming clear that Cheese was pulling it somehow.

They were at the Equire State Building when she finally begged, "Stop with this teleporting!"

Cheese blinked. "Huh?"

Coco peeled herself away from the lamppost and took a good look at Cheese's forehead. A slight breeze blew the forelock, proving any assumptions she had wrong. "I'm sorry, Cheese, but I've got a bit of nausea and I'm a little dizzy from our, uh, kind of impossible jumps from lamppost to lamppost. I get you're trying to search for your brother as fast as you can, but I need a break."

Cheese's eyes went downcast. "Am I freaking you out?"

Coco rubbed her leg. "Maybe just a little..."

Cheese leaned on the lamppost. "You're not the first. Sorry about that."

"Oh! I didn't mean to offend you, I just--"

Cheese held a hoof up to silence her. "It's all right, you didn't mean any harm. Really, I think you might have saved me from scaring some uptight jerk who'll call the police and get me in trouble again."

"Again?"

"Yep. I've got plenty of stories of me accidentally getting ponies on my case here." Cheese leaned on the post and then slid down to his rump. "Sometimes I wonder if Mom was right to advise me to keep it on the down low."

A moment of silence passed, with Cheese looking up at the tall building before him. After a moment of staring, Coco noticed that he was looking less at the building and more off into space. He had done that earlier, but there was less context for this than the last time. There was at least something about being beaten down, and here it was just something about that strange magic he was exhibiting.

Coco tapped her chin. "Is there anything else you can do track your brother?"

Cheese snapped out of his trance, and stood up. "Oh, uh, sorry about that, just thinking about times that my so called 'freak nature' would have helped me had I thought to use it, or wasn't too scared to use it, or even could use it--ahem." He turned to look at his flank. "Well, maybe if he grows up to his miserable years, I might be able to sense him..."

Coco tilted her head.

Cheese glanced at her, noting her questioning look. "Oh, my Cheesy Sense! It leads me to wherever a party that needs my touch is--wingding, hoedown, hootenanny, shindig, you name it! It also lets me know if there's another party pony around or if there's somepony that needs me to get down on a more personal level with them to make them happy. Guess who ended up activating that last function."

"Wow, so you're psychic?"

"Eh... not necessarily." Cheese started bopping his flank with his hoof. "If only I could rewire it to being able to track him whenever I needed to, and not just when he's seriously unhappy... or needs a Cutecenera or Mark Mitzvah or whatever you want to call it."

He sighed. "I hope he's still in one piece. Let's keep looking. I'll keep the lamppost thing to a minimum."

---

His hooves were killing him and his legs felt like rubber. He was so out of breath that he could only keep a slow walking pace. His stomach rumbled its pleas for food, growing louder with every sign advertising fast food he came across. He was feeling far too sleepy for his liking, and he snapped at anypony who dared to yell at him for bumping into them. He looked up to find that the buildings had somehow become even taller, and one had a horse head that glared at him. It had been forever ago since Tomato had escaped the creepy diaper pony, and he wasn't sure if he was any closer to home.

After that knife nearly slicing his ear back in that neighborhood, Tomato hadn't had the best time. Trying to get something to eat at a restaurant? He was chased out by the place's clown mascot for not having any money. Asking for directions? Turns out the guy he chose to ask led him to an alleyway, and had attempted to skin him alive; Tomato escaped through a comical method that confused the creep. Trying to take the subway? They tried to have the police take him! What rules did he break?

He found a bench and sat on it. Looking around, there seemed to be plenty of ponies who knew where they were, where they were going, and how they were getting there. Some walked alone with confidence; others seemed to be chatting with friends. And he caught a few adult ponies walking with their younger charges, with the foals clearly secure under the protection of either parents, grandparents, or older siblings.

He thought of his usual chaperones--Gramma Cucumber Melon, Grampa Pizza Pockets, and big brother Cheese. It was so wrong that they had left him alone at that park. If one or two of them left, it was usually for a short time, and he was always left with those left behind. He used to insist that he could take care of himself; now he was regretting ever have saying anything like that.

A horrible thought came to his mind: they must have abandoned him.

His breaths were shallow as one of his worst fears seemed to come true. He always had the sense that neither of his parents wanted him around, and he had hoped that Gramma, Grampa, and Cheese wouldn't be like that. As it turned out, they got tired of him too, and left him at the park to live alone as some wild pony. After all, what pony would want a little rat who breaks everything and makes all his loved ones mad all the time?

He didn't want to be alone! What did he do wrong? He can be a good pony!

Those thoughts, his experiences, the scarily high buildings, his loneliness, and just how lost he was all struck him like a tidal wave, and an ocean of helplessness weighed on him. Shallow breaths gave way to hiccups, and those hiccups gave way to sobs. A wail rang out of his mouth, as a call to anypony that would rescue him from his miserable state. He was tired, he was hungry, and he was alone. All he wanted was just to go home.

He felt a presence right next to him, and his tear-stained face looked up to see who it was. To his surprise, there sat a colt around his age, bearing messy, two-toned brown hair, a gray coat, and dark blue eyes. He smiled at Tomato with a sincere warmth and friendliness that was unlike any that he had seen all day.

"Hi!" the gray colt chirped.

Tomato wiped his eyes, but was too choked up to even speak to the stranger.

The gray colt leaned closer. "Why are you crying?"

Tomato squeaked, and tried to croak out his answer. Unfortunately, he only sounded like a frog, and he looked away and shed a few more tears out of embarrassment.

"Whatcha sad about?"

Tomato wanted to wait for a chance for his throat to clear before he could answer, but the mere thought of why he was upset only made him sob some more. It was nice to have somepony be concerned about him, but he really shouldn't be here.

A female voice rang out, "Noble!"

The gray colt perked up and looked forward, and Tomato took a look at who was calling his companion, who was apparently named Noble. She was a tall mare, with a coat similar to Noble's, a dark blue mane tied up in a bun, and light blue eyes that showed little expression. The mare was clearly of the serious and professional sort, wearing a purple suit jacket and light blue eyeshadow. Tomato's first guess was that she was Noble's mom, and he started to scoot away.

She said in a stern voice, "What did I say about wandering off?"

Noble twiddled his hooves. "I dropped the bit I found, and I was looking for it..."

"You could have just told me, Noble. You know that I'm not risking the chance of you running into a bad pony."

Noble sank in his seat. "Sorry, Mama..."

Noble's mother turned to Tomato, and asked her son, "Who's your new friend?"

Noble shrugged. "I think he can't talk."

Tomato leapt on his hooves and snapped, "Can too!"

"Settle down, little guy," the mare said. She looked around and asked, "Where are your parents?"

Tomato rubbed his eye. "Mommy's home... Daddy's at work..."

"Why are you out here by yourself?"

Tomato whimpered. "I was with Gramma... and Grampa... and my big brother..." He looked back up, his eyes leaking out more tears. "I've been looking everywhere to find them... or-or find my way home!"

Tomato threw his face into his hooves and cried some more. Noble's mother sat down next to him, letting her son climb onto her. Patting Tomato's head, the mare said in a soft voice, "There, there... I'm sure it was just an accident that they lost you... would you like me to take you to the police station and wait for them there? They'll be sure to go there to ask for help."

Tomato sniffled. "What if the police arrests me for being bad?"

"Don't worry, they won't arrest you. They don't arrest little colts." She stood up, let Noble hop onto her back, and beckoned Tomato to come. "Come along now, we don't want to waste time and have them worry some more."

Tomato nodded, hopped off the bench, and followed her. As they started making their way on the sidewalks, dwarfed by the towers that surrounded them, Tomato looked up at her, and asked, "What's your name?"

Noble gave him a funny look. "She's my Mama!"

A soft chuckle came from Noble's mother. "Yes, I am indeed your mama, young colt, but not his." Then, she answered Tomato, "My name is Platinum Pen."

Tomato wrinkled his nose. "Pla.. Pla-Platty-mum... Platti-cake..."

"Just call me 'Penny.' And what do Noble and I call you?"

"I'm Tomato! But you can call me 'Tommy'."

Author's Note:

Hooray for this frustrating effort to write Manehattan! I developed plenty of headaches from studying maps, pictures, descriptions of stuffy-stuffs, the Manehattan episodes of MLP, and media set in NYC to develop one painful chapter.

Whew, tiring chapter...

On the plus side, I got to use a few jokes that I've planned. Hopefully I'll be able to use the rest (that would fit in Manehattan anyhow) in the next chapter. And maybe survive writing more of this segment... at least it's not as bad as when I was writing the Canterlot arc (freakin' politics).

Comments

[Goldfinch142]

"Your Cheese Sandwich costume is great, but your shirt's the wrong shade of yellow."

"My shirt is not the wrong shade of yellow!" Gotta love them A:TLA jokes.

Holy cow. Little Tommy almost got knifed, skinned alive, and arrested all in the span of less than a day. It's a really good thing little Cheese was there to protect him. At least Platinum Pen can fill that role.

I'm wondering if Platinum Pen wouldn't recognize Tomato's name, though, if he gives her his full name. Surely her siblings have told her about his and Cheese's involvement in helping them with that pizza place.

[redmar]

Manehattan is a dangerous place for Tommy. I wonder what happens if Tomato ages up in front of the police.

[FanOfMostEverything]

Why do ponies even have buggy whips? Physically beating your taxi driver seems like a terrible idea.

Ah, dance rumbles. Sorry, Tommy, the singing's usually done before the Jets and Sharks start trading blows, not during.

Poor Coco. She's far too sane to be able to handle much party power.

Tommy's in for quite a bit of awkwardness the next time he fast-ages, especially since it seems he won't remember Noble or Penny.

Definitely a fun installment. Good work in building up the tension.

[Godslittleprincess]

Oh dear. I hope Penny runs into Cheese and Coco before something else happens.