The
Reasonably Adamant
DOWN WITH
CELESTIA
Newfoal Society!
By Chatoyance
8. Trouble right here in River City
Dumpy Dungcart sat sipping his cider in the shadowy back corner of Saltlick's General Refreshetorium And Sometimes Inn. The quaint and curious name notwithstanding, the place was basically a pub, at least as far as Dumpy was concerned. Old Saltlick sold cider and salt - which had a curious intoxicating effect on Equestrians when ingested beyond reasonable amounts - as well as various simple snacks. There were games for ponies to play, and places to sit. It was a pub in every way except what the natives of Martingale On Hackamore called it.
It was an early Celestday evening, Luna's perfect moon had just risen. Dumpy had enjoyed his usual two baths, the indoor one, as usual, performed with a liberal helping of the sweet-smelling bath powder that he made use of on his one 'social' day at the pub. Not that Dumpy was social, as such, of course. He sat in the back, refused to talk, and had been gradually accepted as the quiet pony that comes on Celestdays and doesn't like to be bothered. Equestrians were a gregarious sort, generally, but they could be trained to leave a pony alone.
Nutbrown, a farm stallion from the north quarter of Martingale, was playing a shuffleboard-like game with his old friend Two Nails the blacksmith - Two Nails was winning, currently, and grinning widely for the joy of it. Stonebridge - despite the name a carpenter - was gently arguing as was his usual with Sackbarrel, the owner of the Martingale General Store, something about how unicorns couldn't be good blacksmiths because they never set hoof on metal, and they didn't have an earthpony's way with stuff from the ground. Sackbarrel, a unicorn, was having none of this and was just shy of calling the heavy-built metalworker a breedist. It was likely that Old Saltlick would have to step in and settle the pair down with a scolding and a free pint each to make up for it - which was exactly what the two clever friends pretended to argue for in the first place. They were a devious pair, for ponies at least, and Dumpy had heard many tales of the dubious misadventures of their youth.
Dumpy had come to know just about everything about every pony in Martingale On Hackamore - he had come to the conclusion that he probably knew more about every citizen than they knew about themselves, much less each other. Dumpy didn't mingle, and he didn't mix, he just listened. All that listening had brought him the heart and the soul and the drama of his small village in a way that likely no other pony ever had. Sometimes, he even intervened, when he felt he needed to - like the time that Glade Blossom had thought Stormy didn't like her anymore because he had up and flown away and was gone for three months and she was beside herself and ready to marry Cornhusk out of grief. She didn't love Cornhusk - Hay, she didn't even particularly like the pushy stallion. Dumpy had written an anonymous letter telling her Stormy's big secret - that he had gone off to get a temporary high-pay job so he could buy her a proper hoofband. Stormy was intending to propose to Glade and... he really should have said something, anything, before he left, the silly pegasus.
Glade was all cheered up the next day and willing to wait for the one she loved, and she never let on about the note, which allowed Stormy his Big Surprise. They were expecting their first foal in a few months. Sometimes, Dumpy felt like a gardener, more than a dungcart draftpony - Martingale was his garden, and all the ponies in it his precious, beautiful flowers, each and every one of them.
It had been almost fifteen years since Dumpy had showed up one day in Martingale On Hackamore and ended up as a nightsoil technician. Dumpy chuckled, softly, into his cider at that one. That's what they would have called it back on earth. Chief Nightsoil Technician and Compost Development Specialist. Sweet Luna, but those humans had been a pretentious lot.
Huh! That caught Dumpy, and he stared intently at the golden cider in his tankard. A tiny bubble popped on the surface. Those humans. Those. Those humans. He no longer thought of himself as a Newfoal. He really didn't. How odd! He was just... a pony. A pony in a pub, even though they didn't call it that. And thinking such a thing - that the locals didn't call their pub a pub, that didn't make him feel like some weird, transformed ape from another universe anymore. He was just a pony, who had come from outside, and become part of the community, and... it was no big deal that he had some notions that weren't local. That was just natural. Having once been a different species didn't enter into it any longer.
Somehow, in those fifteen years, he'd just... settled in. Accepted himself a might. Of course... he understood he didn't dare mix, that was a given, but... at least he didn't see himself as a freak of Conversion anymore. Not like he did. He knew he carried ideas and notions inside him he didn't want hurting these native ponies but that was somehow distant now. It was a promise he kept to himself, a noble act he thought, but he wasn't consumed with shame anymore. He just did it, because it needed to be done, and that was that, and it didn't make him less of an Equestrian because of it. Dumpy smiled at this. It was a pleasant realization. He belonged here, he was a proper citizen, of both Equestria and Martingale, even if he was a quiet one. And he was a proper pony. It felt good.
Watercress burst in through the swinging doors - this is such a hoofing pub, thought Dumpy - carrying a flyer in her mouth. Watercress was a young unicorn mare who had almost no talent for magic at all. She couldn't lift a thing with her horn - though she did have the most extraordinary sense of things. She could tell who would walk through the door next, find a lost piece of jewelry without effort, and made the most astonishing predictions that almost always came true. It was like she had some other magic about her, even if she had to do everything like an earthpony otherwise. Everypony in town favored her - she was a cutie, and ever filled with wonder and excitement about everything.
"Ith a thow! A thow ith comfin to thown! ITH A THOW! A THOW!!!" Old Saltlick came around from behind the counter - bar, thought Dumpy - and got Watercress to calm down and give him the paper sheet in her mouth, so that she could speak clearly.
"There's a big show and it's comin' to town and it's gonna be all wow and everything! It's comin' to town! And it's big, I mean really big!" Watercress was particularly excited today. "A show! And it's comin'!"
"Which town, Watercress? How far away is this show?" Nutbrown still had a hoof on the smooth disk he was about to give a push to. He had pulled ahead in the scoring, he could win with this slide.
"What kind'a show is it, anyways?" Sackbarrel nudged his clever friend Stonebridge "Is it one of them dress-up shows, where they put on socks and parade around?"
"You behave yourself, there Sacks, or I'll make you pay for your cider after all." Saltlick had been on to the pair for years, so it was a meaningful threat. Sackbarrel made the effort to look properly contrite. It wasn't authentic, but it was something at least. Good enough, thought Saltlick. "Here, I'll tell ya, what kinda show Watercress is goin' on about. It's in the flyer she brought. Les' see now..."
"It's a variety show! They have dancing and singing and dancing bunnies and singing birds and singing ponies and dancing ponies - but no dancing birds. I wonder why birds don't dance?" Watercress was bouncing on her hooves.
"She's right, it's called the Happy Pony Show, and they've got all that and more, it seems." Saltlick studied the sheet, clearly ripped from the village noticeboard. "They're doin' a tour of... pretty much all of Equestria. Seems this thing has been goin' on for nigh on a decade now. Well, how about that? It's just gotten bigger and bigger over the years and... well, if that don't beat all!" Old Saltlick drifted off, studying the fine print at the bottom.
"What don't beat all? Ya can't leave us in suspense, Salt! Out with it!" Two Nails had entirely forgotten Equestrian Shuffleboard now, and had moved with the rest to cluster around the edge of the counter.
"It's comin' here all right." Saltlick seemed surprised. "No doubt about it. Right here. As in it's comin' to Martingale!"
"Wait, here-here?" Nutbrown seemed incredulous "As in here... here... right here? Martingale On the hoofin' Hackamore here?"
"Eeyup! We're gettin' ourselves a right proper show, right here, in Martingale." Saltlick looked around at the stunned faces. "Sumptin' ain't it?"
"I told you! I told you!" Watercress was trying to muscle in between Nutbrown and Two Nails to see the flyer on the counter again "I said, 'we're getting a show' and guess what? We're getting a show, just like I said! Isn't it awesome!"
"I don't rightly know, tell the truth. Just what kind of acts are in this thing, and I don't just mean birds tweetin'!" Sackbarrel wasn't an easily impressed stallion. "Any famous names on that little sheet?"
"What, you actually know any famous names there Sackbarrel?" Two Nails had always been just a little jealous that Sackbarrel had gotten to go to school the next county over. Sacks was sometimes a little too proud of the fact, Dumpy had noted.
"Yes, I know a few names, on with it, Saltlick, or let me read the foundering thing myself!" The air had become thick with tension at this singular event. As far as Dumpy had been able to learn, nothing ever happened to Martingale On Hackamore, ever. Not ever. A show, any kind of show, was a once in... forever... event.
"Alright, alright, keep your tail down. Actin' like a bunch'a pink-winkin' first-heat fillies the lot of ya!" It was then that Saltlick suddenly remembered the presence of young Watercress, who had brought the note in the first place. Saltlick looked ashamed "Um, sorry there, 'Cress. Meant no harm."
"Huh?" Watercress hadn't even heard, she was still intently trying to read the flyer over the back of Two Nails.
Saltlick looked greatly relieved and cleared his throat "Ahem! Well, less' see here. We got dancin' bunnies, just like she said..." he nodded at Watercress "...some filly named Plantain Acres has a whole peck a' trained bunnies - they dance, they march, they do fancy steppin' all over the place and finish with gymnastics - she's got the whole lot leapin' and hoppin' to music. Best Lagomorphic entertainment this side a' Los Pegasus, whatever that means. She's also got some rhythmic click'n banana spiders with her too, and I don't know what all."
"O...kay." That didn't particularly excite Sackbarrel too much "What else this thing got?"
Saltlick glanced at the sheet again " There's a dancin' spectacle involvin' pegasai. They hover through the air without so much as a flap of th' wing, or so it says."
"That ain't possible! Pegasus gotta' flap or he up and fall!" Stonebridge wasn't buying it. "Ain't no flyin' without flappin' much less dancin' in the air. That's just foalish nonsense!"
"That's what it says, see for yourself!" Saltlick pushed the sheet closer to the carpenter. "Also, it's not a HE it's a She pegasus, and what appears to be a whole flock of feathered mares right behind her doin' the same thing!"
Stonebridge did just that. He only knew how to read a little, but he still made the effort. "Well... maybe. But I still say ya gotta flap if ya wanna fly!"
"How 'bout this, then? They got a whole herd a' fancy singers doin' show tunes and songs from earthponies. No, not earthponies, from... Earth. What? Show tunes from dirt?" Saltlick looked confused.
Dumpy's ears stood tall and straight at this.
"Mebby they's SOIL tunes!" Nutbrown had a good chuckle.
"Not soil tunes, show tunes, and it's from that thing from fifteen years ago! Remember?" Sackbarrel spoke like he was addressing foals "The thing! In the sky! Princess Celestia herself, the day bless her, appeared right over the middle of the village and talked about some other world, and immigrants and then there was that right pretty song and everything! Don't you recall? How many times have you seen Celestia herself hangin' in the sky?" He had come just short of adding 'you numbskulls!'
"Hey, I remember that!" Two Nails seemed proud to use his memory "That was some mighty impressive speechifyin' plus it was all up in the sky... and I can still remember that song!" He began to hum the sweet, beautiful tune.
"Yeah! That was swell pretty! I hope they do that song again!" Stonebridge joined in. Nopony could remember the words, but it really was a catchy tune.
Saltlick broke in "Hey... it looks like we got us a special guest too! Looky here! Says' there may even be a special appearance by the Princess herself, schedule permittin'. Well, don't that beat all. We done seen her in the sky, now we mebby get to see her in person! Will wonders never cease!"
"So, are we gonna go, huh, huh?" Watercress was bouncing again, excited beyond measure. Likely because she wanted to see the dancing bunnies, more than anything.
"Can't hardly not go, 'Cress!" Sackbarrel rolled his eyes "'Cause it's comin' right here straight to US!
Dumpy suddenly found himself choking on his cider.
Bucket's immaterial essence came to me and told me in no uncertain terms "The story's not done."
"What?" You'd think I'd get used to this by now.
"I said, the story isn't done yet. You only told the most of it, an' not the all of it. You forgot the happy ending." Bucket seemed fairly disappointed.
"I've recently been informed my stories don't have happy endings." I didn't feel like writing, and this was a good excuse.
"Whoever done told you that was plumb wrong. Every story you write always has a happy ending, 'cept mine. You didn't give me a happy ending. I deserve one."
I couldn't argue with that. Bucket really did deserve a happy ending, poor thing. But I was still unsure about me always handing out happy endings. "What about... well I was told that the 800 Year Promise and the Taste Of Grass had sad endings!"
Bucket looked at me like I was some kind of a foal. "That ain't true one bit. In the 800 Year Promise, Perspicacity and Wildfire both end up praised by Celestia, happy together for the rest of their lives, PLUS they had a great adventure and they made all kinds of friends! And that's not even counting getting to be the Royal Telescope Maker for the Crown! And in the Taste Of Grass, sure, Caprice dies an' all, but you're forgettin'! Equestria is MAGIC! In a magic universe, souls can be real. That means that dream of hers about meetin' Alexi and running off with the Celestial Herd to live forever in joy was real. It weren't no mere dream, Caprice got immortality, like all the ponified do. Equestria has an afterlife, remember? You're kind of slow for such a pretentious writer, you know."
"Wait, wait -" I wasn't done with this yet. I had an ace in my hand. "What about Code Majeste? Huh? Huh? Dark stuff there!" I had him now.
"Taint a bit of it." Bucket sighed. "Think a moment, mare! Sure, Lillian gets her head blown clean off, but she regenerates and becomes Derpy and Dinky. Then what happens to 'em? Remember? Derpy loves her little daughter, and doesn't remember a bit of sadness from before. Her little daughter loves her back, and they have a happy life together forever! Plus that Doctor Whooves comes in his little blue shed and takes her on wonderful adventures all the time, PLUS the princesses look after her and give her a stipend to live on. Lillian is set for life, gets to travel through space and time, has a beautiful daughter, an' she gets to be the most beloved pony in the fandom. If that isn't a happy ending, why... I'll eat my dung cart!"
I hadn't realized all of that. I guess those were happy endings. Very happy. "Alright, fine. I always do happy endings, even if SOME ponies can't always see that. But the bottom line is... you want yours, and that means..."
"Eyup." Bucket said. "You gotta write it. You do your job an' I'll do mine, alright?" He's a fierce little pony when he wants to be.
"What is your job, anyway?" What was Bucket, really, to appear in front of me that way? A Muse? Some cosmic spirit come to plague me? A sign of total mental collapse?
"Silly filly!" Bucket scolded me "I pull a dung cart. You know that!" And with that he trotted back to wherever visions go.
So, I began... to write.
Oh, boy. Not only do we have to deal with the hidden 'invasion' that most ponies in Equestria know next to nothing about (a theme you'd first propounded in "Down on the farm"), the locals have to find out that the quiet pony used to be one of these weird hew-mon things. This is not good. Ah, well. He should at least be glad that he isn't in the same predicament as the newfoal nobody knows about:
WOOOT Continuation !
Looks like the Society is getting an encore.
It can be hard to wrestle with endings. Even after you've picked one out, looked it over, hemmed and hawed over the scratches and scuffmarks on it, contemplated putting it back on the shelf, then finally caved in and bought it, you spend the night and the next day with buyer's remorse, wondering if there wasn't some better ending you missed out on because you were too hasty.
Fortunately, nothing ever really ends anyway. After the honeymoon, Prince Charming and Cinderella probably had to work out a rotating schedule of who walked the dog and who picked up Charming Jr. from soccer practice. There's also the awkward business of having the wicked stepmother over for Thanksgiving (hey, she's family). My point is that I'm tired and can only speak in analogies, but I think if I had a second point, it would be that sometimes you can be done with the story, but the story isn't done with you.
I can't imagine what you could have in store for Dumpy, né Bucket (or would that be "neigh Bucket?"), beyond him learning that there wasn't a mass stonification to escape from after all. Had there been, however, an interesting (and darkly humorous) epilogue would have been Royal coming to alongside Windfeather in the far-flung future of the Permutation Bureaus.
We wonder who sacrificed what to bring this about, none the less it is something we are beyond glad to see...It felt a little empty on the ending with Bucket in his bath.
Huh, thought this bit was over.
And then... Well I more so speechless. This came out left field because I thought this was done.
Ladies and Gentlemen, Fillies and Gentlecolts, please fasten your seat belts and get ready, because this story is about to TAKE OFF ONCE MORE!!!!
704540
Being a 'fall from the falls (Grand-Falls, N.B.) myself, I noticed the mistake as well but (for shame!) forgot all about it before I got to the end of the story. Good on you for calling it out.
742091
Looks like we're blasting off again? Hrm hrm?
742599
Completely unintentional, I tell you!
(But Sun and Moon, I wish I thought of that.)
742617
Speaking of Pokemon, a good friend of mine started her first run of Diamond yesterday, and I convinced her to go with a food-based naming scheme. The best part? Her player character is named Ginger (female, of course), and her starter is Nutmeg.
However, now that I think about it, it might have been better the other way around, with Nutmeg in the foundational role of leader. Oh well.
(Sorry Ginger! Looks like I unwittingly cast you once again into the role of leader.)
741470 I just hope you didn't glare at him after he'd said his piece.
Huh? Is planting acres from teacup down on the farm? :o Nice to see a continuation of this story.
752269
Thank you for catching that reference! I was hoping somepony would! Yes, it's the little filly from Teacup, all grown up and in show biz. Her mother wanted her to get off the plantation...
It's been a while since I've read on of your stories. I've been wary of them, since the anti-human sentiment runs so deep. Now, I can understand why you feel so disillusioned with the human race--I do too, at some points--and it's your story, so you can insert whatever theme you want. However, when that stops being a theme and starts being a story, just a literary vessel for you to hammer in "Humans are bad", it not only weakens the story but also your argument, like a grimy, unskilled labourer going on a booze-fueled rant about how his ex-wife is a worthless broad. Sure, some of his similarly-inebriated friends are going to agree, if only to avoid getting into a drunken brawl for disagreeing with him, but anyone who's on the outside of that circle is going to look in and wonder who spiked the brew.
And please do note I'm not comparing you to some raving drunk, merely using it as an allegory.
Anyways, I've only read two chapters and, so far, I'm enjoying it. The anti-human angle isn't being beat into me with a nanomachine-made shockprod and, as one of your replies noted, serves as contrast to make their upstart rebellion seem all-the-more preposterous. There's some suitably wacky wordplay being made and the characters are varied and interesting (you seem to have a knack for making LUS not seem like LUS, so props for that). I haven't laughed out loud, but you've ellicited a couple chuckles, which is a fairly rare feat.
If you haven't read it yet, I would recommend Blueshift's Ninety Neighty-Four, which is a pony parody of the classic dystopian America novel of similar name. It shares some parallels with your story, which is why I'm thinking of it.
The Happy Pony Show! and Plantain! This makes me happy.
741470
I love this comment, and I have to agree, I thought "800" and "The Taste of Grass" had happy endings. I haven't read all of Code Majeste yet.
Don't run away from happiness this time Bucket!
As soon as I heard about the show I just knew it was the RADWICKINS.
One: Bucket thinks of himself as Dumpy now. Sigh.
Two: is Watercress related to Pinkie somehow? I think she's a cousin or something.
Three: Plantain? The shy little pony from Teacup and Petal's odyssey? The dancing bunnies and banana spiders seem to suggest so.
Four: Somebody harness Bucket before he bolts again!