//-----------------------------
// Story: Off the Beaten Path
// Chapter: The Big Day (Part 1)
// Author: PingSquirrel
// Editor: Rune Heart
//-----------------------------
16.
Last night was nice but it really revealed one thing to me and it was something that I actually could fix. My missing memories were beyond anything I knew how to handle but with Berry's help, I could at least track if they were still slipping from me. What I could do though is have some snacks at the truck to share with her and to be a good host. It was the least I could do and to that end, I made my way on towards Sugar Cube Corner in the morning right after I got up. It must of been later in the summer here because I noted that the air had a cool crispness to it that hinted at a coming fall while I walked towards the familiar store. If I was here too long, I would have to get something to help me with the cold.
Like the first mornings I have seen since I had arrived, there was a lack of ponies on the streets this early in the morning. Only the shop owners and those with kiosks to run were about and they were busy setting things up for the business of the day and the bakery was no exception. Breakfast was foremost on my mind and I wanted more than just apples to eat and nothing could distract me from my goal.
Well, almost nothing.
“Morning’, Scriber.”
I turned to the cart that was previously hiding Applejack, but now she was standing so she could look overtop of it. “Good morning,” I replied as I stopped my trip for politeness’ sake and even tipped my cap her way.
“Yeah. Rainbow had to work through the night to keep out a nasty thunderhead, but it was worth it fer a mornin’ like this,” she said before she picked up a basket with her mouth and set it on top. “It’ll be a good market day ‘cause of her, I reckon.”
“Bet it helped you out too, with your time with Berry. It’s good to see her out and about with other ponies, and to see you settlin’ in,” she stated with cheer while her big, red brother rounded a corner and started approaching the sales cart while hauling another cart that was nothing but produce.
“It wasn’t like that,” I said quietly, before I quickly changed the subject. “Hey Mac. How are you?”
“Good.” Great. My savior from awkwardness was a pony that would only speak when upset, or pinned down.
“So, all the Apple family is here today?” I prompted to him before Applejack could ask anymore on the supposed date. He just gave a snort and a nod towards me and his sister just sighed at the terseness of his reply.
“Well, normally we all come out for a Saturday to sell, yeah,” the more vocal mare answered more completely, “But Apple Bloom said she really wanted to try somethin’ out with her friends at their clubhouse. Those fillies are always up ta somethin’, but you’re only a foal one time ‘round.”
I chuckled into a hoof and recalled the ‘fort’ I had as a child. It was only about five feet into the bush, but it was my own personal castle. “Let me guess. You can see it from the front window?”
“Ya got that right! I love my sis’ but I have to keep an eye on her dealings before they get out of hoof.”
“Yet you’re making an exception of it today?” I asked with an amused smirk while Big Mac unhitched the cart and began shuffling through the goods.
“Granny Smith’s there if they need help,” she explained with a shrug. “She’ll be nappin’ but they can always wake ‘er up if they need ‘er.”
“Yeah.” I imagined that Mrs. Smith was the grandmother of the family, making me wonder where the mother and father were, but that seemed much too personal to get into. “Hey, Mac. We’re alright?”
He turned his head ever so slightly towards me. “Yeah. I’m not used to losin’ and lost my head. Ain’t gonna happen again though, so next game, ya watch out. I want my bits back.”
“Not going to happen, buddy, but if you want to save face, you can give me the ante now,” I teased back. “Or, should I come by at the end of the day, after you made some coin?”
“Keep talkin’,” he scoffed back at me and his sister chuckled at him for his forced bravado.
“Speaking of making money though,” I replied, “I should get going. Have to pick up something to go with the apples you gave me yesterday. I hope you both have a good day.”
“You too, Scriber,” the mare said happily. Her brother just nodded, and I started walking towards the smell of baking breads and pastries a block away. The fresh breads would make a nice compliment to the apples I had at the truck, and the happy mood I was in made me take bouncing gait, complete with the merry clipping of hooves on cobblestone as I went. The bell announced my entrance into the shop with its happy chime, and I was looking at the partly empty shelves with the sounds of ponies working in the back. Likely, it was the Cakes getting the place ready for the day. If I was lucky, I would be able to get some of the better day-olds for myself before they were taken down, so I started looking through the shelves.
“Just a second!” came a familiar mare's voice from the back, and I glanced at the direction of the unattended counter. That sounded li- Pinkamena! With a complete disregard for physics, the pink mare was right in front of me and taking up the entirety of my field of view with a disapproving scowl, which caused me to rear right back so quickly, I tripped and toppled right over and onto my back with a surprised cry and a crash. When, I opened my eyes, Pinkamena was still there, standing above me. “It's you,” she said coolly to me, “What do you want?” At least she wasn't yelling at me this time.
“You would do Bugs Bunny proud,” I muttered on her apparent teleportation, as I got back to my hooves. From the looks of her confused expression she had on her face, the comment went right over her head. It would take far too long to explain myself, and would likely reveal my true nature to her. So, I just went on to say, “Flax-seed bagels.”
“What does a bunny have to do with a flax-seed bagel?” she asked as if there was a serious link between the two. It was even kind of cute watching her furrow her brow in the effort to find the link. Well, if considering that gave her time to calm down, I was happy to let her ponder the non-existent link. At that point, a plan came to mind. If I recalled correctly the research I did two days ago, she was supposed to be the Element of Laughter. Maybe, jokes and riddles were more effective than logic with her.
I put the hastily created strategy into action. “I would imagine it's the same thing that a raven has in common with a writing desk,” I replied casually as I looked at the selection the store had to offer once more, leaving Pinkamena behind to consider that. She did just that for nearly a minute, complete with mutterings of bagels and birds before she stormed up behind me again.
“That makes even less sense!” she complained in my direction, as she followed me. “And usually the less sense things make, the more sense it makes to me!”
“Would you rather guess what I have in my pocket?” I casually asked as I plucked a bag of the breakfast food from the shelf, and carefully set it on my back. It took a couple tries to keep it there. How did ponies even balance things like this so easily?
Once again, she seriously considered what I had just said, albiet for not as long, before she pointed at me and grinned as if she had scored a major victory against me. “You don't have any pockets though! None! How can you have something in your pockets if you don't have any? I got you now!” she said with accusing triumph.
I was ready for that. “Well, obviously I don't have my pockets here with me. That would make it too easy,” I chuckled to the mare as I continued the search through the store.
“Oooh, You're good!” she said as she was totally stumped at the statement. She then caught herself praising me and resumed her more upset posture. “Wait-a-minute! No no no! You're not good! Not good at all!” While she did that, I plucked a bag of cinnamon rolls as well, and did my best to set it on my back. Seriously, it was tougher than it looked. Maybe I would have to get saddlebags.
“You don't really think that,” I replied while I took a slow walk to the counter.
“Yes, I do!” she declared while she followed right behind me.
“No. You don't.” I made sure I stayed a paragon of calmness while the mare grew and grew in intensity in the back and forth debate.
“I totally, absolutely do!”
“Nope,” I said with a shake of my head.
“Yes! I! Do!”
“Heh. Not at all.”
She leaned right into my personal space at that point, making me rear away from the tip of her nose, and continued without missing a beat. “I really don't!”
Did she just try that old gag on me? “It's duck season!” I declared with a hoof pointing in the air with as much flair and dramatics as the animated character would've put into it. She once again was staring at me with confusion and really didn't know how to react. I don't blame her. It wasn't her fault that she was stealing a gag from an animation company in another dimension because there was no way she'd know about it.. I slid myself around her at that point and headed to the counter. “The proper response is, “It's rabbit season”,” I explained though I know it would answer none of the pink mare's questions.
After she took in that information, she pondered once more. I think she was working through all she knew of me and she came to one inevitable and inescapable conclusion. “You're weird,” she stated with conviction as she moved to stand on the other side of the counter again. “And that trick usually works. And I'm the weird one here. At least, that is what everypony else says about me! So you must be extra weird for me to say it about you. And bad! I'm not forgetting that one just because you're weird too!”
I waited for the quickly spoken stream to end, or at least come to a point where I could step in and I decided to take a chance. “Who did you speak to about me?” I queried as I put on my best Dr. House sort of voice (though not his attitude). I had another hunch and was going to ride it out.
She paused once more in the repartee and narrowed her eyes suspiciously at me once more. “Huh? How'd you know? You been spying on me?”
My hoof pointed to her. “Your mane isn’t all straight and flat. Every other time you talked to me, it was and that only seems to happen when you’re upset. So, something has changed and it wasn't anything I did. So, I am guessing one of your friends talked to you about me.”
Her eyes stayed narrowed. “Go on,” she replied in an exaggerated manner. I did.
“So, if you're not as mad at me, or at least convinced that I'm not as bad as you thought, why are you still acting mad?” The question hung in the air as the pink one obviously mulled it in her head, then her expression dropped. Her hair didn't deflate like the last few times I had spoken with her, but her boundless energy was instantly sapped.
With her head down, she answered, “I don't want to talk about it. And I really don’t want to talk about it with you. Sorry.” She then gave a sidelong glance at the bags of bagels and rolls I had and took great care not to meet me eye to eye. “That's seven bits.”
I dutifully tipped off my hat and counted out the coins for her. “I can respect that. I hope we can have a good 'working' relationship though. I’d hate to be blacklisted from the only bakery in town.”
She nodded, as she put away the money in the till. “Yeah. We can do that.” She then turned to return to her work in the back. “I guess I’ll see you later.” It was better than nothing, but I had hoped to resolve everything entirely. I should take what progress I could get though, and keep moving on with the day. There was work to be done today, after all and I couldn't spend time dwelling on this. I turned too, and left the shop and moved into the cool morning air again. I had a checklist of things to do and the first of which was to finish what I had started at Bon-Bon’s yesterday. I had delayed enough on that task already even if she was an understanding mare and needed to get back to it to finish the task. It wouldn’t take too long as long as everything went well.
It was a good thing it was such a nice morning because it was still early when I arrived at the candy-maker’s home and ended up having a bite on her step. While I ate, I reflected on few subjects. First of which was what there was to eat here and the likelihood that I have had my last taste of meat in my life. Oddly enough, I couldn’t bring myself to think about a steak or a hamburger as food anymore. They weren’t disgusting, but rather just things that were as appetizing as as a brick. Oh well.
That drifted to thoughts of my old life and how I could get back to it. Even if things did followed the best case scenario and getting back would be simple affair, there would be the lost time to account for. But there was so many things that could go wrong, even if they could send me back. Time might pass differently between home and here, or becoming human again might be impossible. The Lunar goddess didn’t offer to reverse the shape change, and she knew what I looked like from the picture. This was getting depressing. At least I was done to the last bite of my roll. I popped it in my mouth and stretched out to prepare for the work ahead. I didn’t know magic, but I did know my metal work and it was a task I could take on right now and finish. I was sure enough time passed so I wouldn’t be a rude and early wake-up call so I knocked at the door, and Bon-Bon came to the door, coffee mug in hoof, and extended it to me.
“Good morning,” she greeted. “I was wondering when you’d come on in.”
I took the offered drink and sipped it. It had sugar and cream, but I wasn’t about to turn down a gift over little details like that. “Thank you, Bon-Bon,” I replied, “You knew I was out there?”
She stepped back inside and motioned for me to follow her along. “It looked like you needed a few minutes, and it really isn’t a big deal. It’s Saturday and I am going to be here all day. How did thing go with Berry yesterday?”
Following her in while holding a mug was much harder than she made it look, but I did it with a minimal amount of spillage and embarrassment on my part. “It went much better than I could hope, actually. Thanks for letting me take off to take care of the whole business.”
“Not a problem, but I would like to get my kitchen back together sometime today,” she answered before she looked back at me and grinned. “And it must have went well. You’re smiling pretty wide right now,” she pointed out before she went on to suggest, “You know, I am sure I could let you away with a candy package at a discount.”
That comment caught me off guard, but I was smiling. I couldn’t deny that. “Oh, I think we struck off a good friendship is all and had a nice long talk with her. But, it couldn’t hurt to have a something to snack on.”
“Of course, Scriber,” she replied as if she knew more than what I was letting on, but let it drop. “I’ll let you to your work. As I said, I am here all day.”
I took one last and long slurp of the coffee, and set it down, before I made my way to the kitchen. There, I started to lay out the materials I would use; there wasn’t much more to do. I should be in and out of here before noon and I could sneak off to the library to get those books I was looking the other day. Once the metal was accounted for, I went to push my tool bag out from the corner I had it in, and nearly threw it across the room. Something was wrong because it was too light. I was quick to open it up where it stopped and cursed under my breath. All the power tools were gone, but there was a little note with childish chickenscratch writing left in the bag in there place.
Dear Mister,
Scootaloo, Sweetie Belle and me, Apple Bloom are just going to borow borrow your tools til Sunday. They look really neat and we haven’t seen anything like them. Don’t worry none! We can have them back in plenty of time for you to do your work on Monday.
Thanks in advance!
CMC
I read the simple note several times, unsure how to react to this, but my first reaction was to kick something hard and utter some truly nasty things. Instead, I sat myself down on my flank and forced myself to take several calming breaths. I wasn’t going to scream or swear, I told myself internally. They were just kids and they thought I wasn’t going to use them for a while, so clearly, they’re just curious and not malicious. But that didn’t change the fact they took things from me without asking, making them thieves in my mind. And I needed them back as soon as possible if I was going to get my job done. At least I knew who the culprit was and where to find her and her friends.
“Bon-Bon,” I called to the next room, “Yesterday, were three fillies here? Scootaloo, Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom?” I got myself back up, picked up the note in my mouth and started walking towards where the mare was.
“Yes,” she called back, “I said I would show them a few things a week ago, but with your stuff in there, I didn’t want to risk them getting hurt or anything, so I gave them a raincheck.”
The mare cleared enough room on her couch for her to lay on, and I walked up to her and dropped the note before her. She quickly read through it while I asked, “They didn’t happen to take anything thing, did they?”
Her eyes were wide and she looked mortified by the time she finished reading. “Oh no! When they asked that, I thought they wanted to borrow a few pots and pans! I didn’t realise they went through your things. I was just too busy to watch them. I'm sorry!”
I wasn’t mad at the mare, and I gave her a little nudge on the shoulder. “It’s alright but I need them back. I hate to do this to you but I'm going to have to delay again.”
She didn’t look pleased about that and let out an exasperated sigh. “Well, it’s half my fault really. I should’ve watched them more carefully. Just get back here as soon as you can.”
“Ah, it’ll be a quick run, and I can be back here, and still get things all done for you before mid-afternoon. I’ll be back as soon as possible, alright?” She nodded and I took my leave after I picked up my mostly empty bag.
I moved through the town at a quick gallop, in the direction of the farm. It was a shame though, because the picture perfect farmstead and barn came into view after I crested a hill. The orchard behind the buildings looked massive in scope and if Applejack and her family took care of it all, my respect for them all just grew. The scent of the trees just added to the pleasant ambiance of the place, and covered the odors of livestock. I would have to ask for a tour of the entire farm on a later date to see if there was any major differences from what I was familiar with and to see what animals that ponies raised but that would have to wait. It was that tree house that I was most interested in. It was impressive in how large it was, but it could use a coat of paint because the brownish hues it was didn’t do the construction any favours.
Already, I could hear the three voices of the fillies, though I couldn’t make out what they were really saying. The only thing clearly audible was the whirr of one of my drills being used. The sharp clicking noise gave it away as my impact drill. Then the other one whirred into life too, though I couldn’t seen the fillies yet They must have been inside, working on some project. Then, my sawzall whirred too and that was followed by a shrill scream. Instantly, I went from a brisk walk to an outright sprint towards the building.
I burst into the clearing where the treehouse was, then made a scramble up into the building proper. My tools were there, scattered about, but my focus was on the three fillies in the middle of the single room, while a white unicorn was bawling and the two other fillies were doing their best to calm her down. I could see the red dripping to the floor from a split hoof.
“I’m so sorry! Didn’t think it would jump so fast! I didn’t mean to hurt you any!” the yellow filly with a red mane, all held back with a pink bow. She looked like she was about to cry too.
The dusty-orange pegasus filly beside her was holding up a little better, but was upset too. “It’s alright Sweetie Belle! Just breath and stay calm,” she instructed, though they were quick and panicked, “Just don’t look a the cut!”
She did just that, and one look at the rough and torn hoof and skin made her wail even louder. It was clear none of them had noticed me yet, but I was already going into my bag for the rags I kept in it. Why couldn’t I have bought that first aid kit I saw on sale? Either way, it was time to be the calm and rational one.
“It hurts!” she whined with tears flowing nearly as fast as the blood. The three did look surprised when I walked to her and wrapped her hoof up in the rag. “It’s alright,” I said as comfortingly as a stranger to the three could be. “My name is Scriber and those are my tools you got. You’re lucky I came out to get them back”
My presence was a surprise to all of them, but having an adult on the scene was a comfort.
“S-sorry mister,” simpered the one I assumed was Apple Bloom. That would make the last one Scooter or something like that. “We...” She trailed off because she had another layer of guilt to worry about.
“Don’t worry about it. Go to your house, and get Granny Smith, and some clean cloths. If Granny needs a few minutes to get going, one of you come back with the cloths so we can clean this up.” Both of them tore off as quickly as their legs could carry them.
“I told Apple Bloom that this was a bad idea,” Sweetie Belle sniffled out while I gave the place a look over. It was pretty obvious what happened to the little filly. She must have been holding a plank down while the others used that saw. The wood was maybe three eighths at the most, so it would have cut pretty quickly and likely too fast for a little filly without the proper limbs to control it. I still had difficulty and I had practice with the tool.
“Just stay calm. It’s just a cut. I’ve been cut plenty of times and they heal up,” I replied to the filly before I carefully lifted the rag and looked at the dripping, red mess. It was already soaking through the cloth and over my hooves. Unless there was magical cure for scars here, she would be showing off this accident for a while. “When you are ready, I am going to carry you to the house, alright.”
She took several breaths to try and stop her sobbing while I held the cut, but she couldn’t quite manage herself. She did nod to me though and I stooped down to let her up. The warm drips on my back let me know that she was still bleeding. “Now, hold the rag tight. Here we go.” I started a slow walk to the house, managing the ramp down from the treehouse easily. With her on my back, I couldn’t move too fast, because even at my pace, she winced and trembled on every bounce on my back.
At least it wasn’t a long walk. By the time Scooter exited with a pile of rags between her wings, I was already on the front porch, and walking in. “Come on. We gotta clean out the cut and get it wrapped up properly. Then, probably stitches.”
“Granny Smith will be here as soon as she get’s up proper,” Apple Bloom announced to me as she rushed down the stairs.
“And I got the rags!” Scooter added in the same, worried tone, as they both gathered around their friend, and showed me to the kitchen, and thankfully, it had hot and cold running water. So, with care, I set Sweetie on the counter and with as much care as I could, started rinsing out the dirty cut.
While I did the delicate work, the three whimpered apologies to each other. There was a few flecks of wood and paint that were in it that needed to be cleared.
“What’s this here all about?” an elderly voice stated behind me. “Oh my goodness! Sweetie! You done got yourself all cut up! And who, in tarnation, are you?”
I looked over my shoulder to see the same mare that tossed a few bits in my cap a day ago. Recognition lit up her eyes too, and she went on to say. “Yer that homeless feller! What are you doin’ here?”
“I am Scriber, and these girls took my tools,” I explained, turning my attention back to tying a knot in the clean dressing over the cut. It hadn’t even slowed in its bleeding yet, but it was better than nothing. “I think we have to get Sweetie Belle to the hospital for stitches. I can carry her there myself, but maybe you can contact her parents and let them know what happened.”
The elderly mare looked around me and to the whimpering filly and let out a shocked gasp. That was enough to prompt Sweetie to say, “I-I really want to go.”
“Alright.” That was all I needed to hear and I put her on my back once more without a care about the seeping wound. I already needed another bath. “I’ll be back to collect my tools later, after she’s taken care of.”
Even as I left with Sweetie Belle, I could hear Granny Smith organizing the other two fillies, and before I even left the yard, the other two raced by me on a scooter, yelling something at us. “What did they say?”
“I think they are going to get my sister,” Sweetie mewled as she hugged to my neck for balance. “S-she’s going to be so mad at me!”
“I think she’ll be happier that you’re alright,” I replied calmly to her, trying to ignore the jabs of hard hooves on my back while she shuffled again.
“But it hurts so much!” she squealed, with that high pitched voice cracking. “Rarity’s going to flip! We shouldn’t of taken them! I’m sorry!”
Poor filly. I couldn’t even bring myself to be upset about the tools now. She was hurting, and all of them learned a much harder lesson for it. “Hey. Just calm down. Deep breaths. Think about something else and this will be all done soon enough.”
She tried breathing deep for about three seconds before she gave up on the effort to block out the pain. “It hurts too much! You don’t know what it’s like!”
“Actually, I do. Been cut, burned and scrapped more times than I can count and I lived through them all. Even ones worse than that one,” I replied as I kept up my pace towards the hospital. It was maybe a few minutes away, but at least it was on the edge of town so I didn’t have to parade Sweetie Belle through the crowds.
“Really?” she asked doubtfully, following it up with a loud sniffle.
“Yeah. But the stories aren’t for the faint of heart,” I chuckled. Sure, I was worried about the filly, but I really did have a certain expertise when it came to cuts. “When you work with metal, they’re par for the course.”
“If you say so. Still hurts a lot.” She buried herself right down and against my mane. “Thanks for not being mad at us.”
“Oh, I am still mad, but it can wait until you’re patched up,” I replied to the filly. “Or until I get a chance to talk to your parents. Right now though, I think this is more important.”
She winced at the mention of parents, and went rather quiet. If worrying about punishments took her mind off of the pain, then I would just let it work. She didn’t even make a peep again until she was actually in the hospital and the nurse was asking questions on what happened. Since I was not family, I answered what I could while she was whisked away for treatment. I sat myself down on one of the benches with the intention to wait until her family arrived, so I could talk over the events with them. I didn’t know her well, but she seemed nice enough and really didn’t deserve this.
I was in the middle of leafing through old magazines. Even when in another world, the titles and headlines seemed old and tired to me. Royal Secrets Revealed, 20 Minutes to a Fine Flank, and Makeover Tricks: Get the Most from your Mane! were some of the titles I saw before a red pegasus stepped up to me and cleared his throat. I looked up at Officer Cuffs and he just looked smug in how he returned the gaze.
“Ponies seem to keep getting hurt around you,” he stated as he moved to block the door. I wasn’t about to run, but the message was clear.
“And a good day to you too,” I replied to him dryly, “And for the record, she was hurt before I got there.”
“So goes your story, Scriber. There are rumours of a homeless pony, that looked a lot like you, breaking into the Apple’s home and there’s a hurt filly with the doctor. It’s all so hard to keep track of it all,” he said with a flare of his wings as if to show off the scale of the issues.
“Come on. You’ve got to have something better to do,” I groaned to the cop, complete with an eye roll. “Seriously. She’s here because I carried her here.”
That smug expression he had on his face was only getting worse and more irritating. “How about this? You accompany me to the station and we can get this all worked out. It might take a day or three, but at least you’ll have a place to stay. Or, I can drag you out, if you prefer.”
Annoyance flared instantly into anger, and I stared hatefully at him. The rational side of my mind kept control which was good, because I was sure I could break him quite thoroughly if it came to it.
“Fuuuuine.”
It's done! It's up! It's even been proof-read by someone else!
Sorry to do a two-parter. But this chapter's original draft clocked in about 12k words, read like an irrational diatribe by an insane squirrel that somehow got a fountain pen and was taught to write by the cast of Jersy Shore.
Thank you for your time, guys.
That cop is an ass.....
1447693
Ah-ha-ha.
I see what you did there. It would also seem that you either wrote more or GDocs ate some of what was posted. Cuffs is just one big bag of jerk, ain't he?
As a black person I have full rights to say this line
Ahem
fuck da police
1447852
Ladies and Gentlemen.
The comment of the evening!
Whenever I think of Cuffs I think of all the corrupt police officers in the movies.
Wow, when Pinkie says your weird, well she might be right. He's going to be much harder to trick Pinkie.
I like Cuffs, he is just doing his job, or trying to avenge Twilight. Keep up the bad work
1448063
He seems more bored than anything else. Almost nothing happens in Ponyville and when something does happen it is way out of his league. A homeless bum is perfect for him.
I just looooooooveee irrational cops.
they make for good dumbasses to keep hating on
MAN i hate this cop. Seriously, I'd like to see one of the elements or somebody just chew him out for being such a douche. He's trying, even if things aren't going his way.
I feel so bad for (forgot his name) decent start to the day and things are starting to finally look up and then THIS happens.
I sometimes have to stop myself from agreeing with Cuffs for one major reason: Princess Luna straight-up told him that the "homeless bum" didn't do anything with intent, and shouldn't be harassed based on an accident. Yes, things tend to go badly around him, but that doesn't give license to hound his every movement, and pull him in for questioning with only incredibly flimsy rationalizations to justify it. Especially since Cuff's position boils down to "you brainwashed the Princesses with your sob story, so I'm gonna prove how evil you are to everyone else," ignoring the fact that the Diarchs have more experience with and defenses against mind control then he could possibly hope to have lucked through, and therefore anything that could whammy them wouldn't break a sweat influencing him.
Gah, Scriber needs to lawyer up, and find out how to get an overzealous cop off his back without running straight to Luna or Celestia.
Love it!
Of those cutie mark crusaders! If it wasn't for those meddling fillies...
A day with a human who has watched cartoons before??.. Oh yeah, his mind will be broken... quickly. If he could confuse Pinkie Pie.. God rest his soul. Hopefully they have a procedure for ponies in the vegetable state.
jeez, Murphy's Law really loves making sure his days are not boring at all and the CMC got hurt too. i bet they REALLY learned their lesson this time
Nope.
1449000
My bad. He even pointed that one out to me.
Please continue.
denver.mylittlefacewhen.com/media/f/img/mlfw8224-ib1xWpVV8MnzW61.png
I'm adding this to my watch list.
Also, WOULD SOMEPONY PLEASE BUCK OFFICER CUFFS???!!!!!
Seriously, that dude reminds me of the nosy accusing cops where I come from. Innocent people going away...
Lastly, I always use images to convey my thoughts.
Goddamnit.
I know Cuffs make a good antagonist, but he's really getting to be a douche. The story doesn't really need him; there's plenty of other obstacles for Scriber to overcome!
Come on, just kill him off-screen quietly and be done with it. Just add a paragraph somewhere that explains that Cuffs choked trying to swallow a cucumber whole, and then never mention him again.
You're the author. You can do that shit, yo!
Cuffs is that special kind of villain you love to hate. like Cruella De'vil from 101 or Scar from the lion king.
Just lookin at them makes your blood boil but its a nice feeling when they get their comeuppances in the end.
Sooo are Tia and Lulu really looking for a way to get poor Scriber home?
It would be just like Tia to have brought him here in some kind of misguided attempt at teaching someone a lesson.
And what of the changes to his mind?
Did Tia and Lulu knowingly or unknowingly sentence him to death of personality?
Is being forced to watch everything that made him who he is be stripped away, leaving nothing but a homeless, shunned pony whose good at metal work, part of the punishment?
Seriously sounds like the perfect punishment to me, stripping him of his mind while filling in the gaps with pony values, all the while leaving his skills intact so he can be useful to the community.
I don't think the worst prisons on earth are as bad as that would be.
This story is one of my absolute favorites btw keep up the good work!
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But, were they typos or were they there in reflection of Kerry's position and situation? In the case of Scootaloo=Scooter in this chapter, Kerry doesn't know the CMC at all. He knows Apple Bloom because of AJ mentioning a little sister on top of their family accent (1+1 equals 2, 'n all that), and Sweetie Belle because of Scootaloo. Drop some stress into the mix with a kid cutting herself up on a sawzall and having your own memories flip-flopping around on you, ON TOP of being in a completely random place you have no knowledge of, and you're gonna be a bit confused and not remember a few key things correctly.
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>Oh and for the record, I'm just trying to help. None of this is meant to instigate any bad blood.
I understand completely.
Hrmm. I'm gonna have to talk with Ping for a few of these. I pointed quite a few of these out and he still missed 'em... I missed the one with of->off and the bouncing gait bit, though. Last time I proof read or edit at 3 AM...
I am very much enjoying this story, So much so that it has made its way to my favourites section!
*peers in and sees the debate on his poor grammar*
My bad! Will tend to it as soon as I can.
*Slinks off*
>>“I would imagine it's the same thing that a raven has in common with a writing desk,” I replied casually..>>
Edger Allen Poe wrote on both. (Clever Alondro is clever.)
1447852 You have no idea how hard it is to contain my troll powers right now. 64... that's how many evil, diabolical trollish things exploded through my mind all at once.
I got a nosebleed from holding back the power!
I love this chapter, and I can't wait to see the next.
I love this fic so much.
It's great to see that you updated!
And it reminds me that I also need to write more.
But, this is really amazing, and I love it! Keep up the amazing work!
I cannot believe no one has called me out for the flurry of references so far.
1447852
I come from a military/law enforcement family. But yeah in this case I wholeheartedly agree!
i would report him. i know they do that. they have to!
Hah, I knew they were going to take the tools.
Anyway, good story so far. Now, lets see where it will lead us. *eats some popcorn*
1452453....64 evil/diabloical trolling things.......What does that remind me of.....
I hope that cop gets his ass kicked, Scriber is a fucking hero!!!
A FUCKING HERO!!!
Hero's don't go to jail, they put people in jail.
fuk da poliez braddah
JKJK
1447873 Ok its gotten to the point they need to fight really its getting out of han-hoof. Also it would make me smile to know he at least got a kick of a hoof in is smug face, friendship only goes so far i would have already tackled him in the waiting room.
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I'm really starting to agree with this. It's like the only purpose of having him is to drag things out longer than necessary. And in a place like Equestria, it makes even less sense that he could even have a job by that point with how unnecessarily mean he's being. Why doesn't he just remind the idiot that Luna herself told him that he wasn't to blame for what happened?
Speaking of which, why is he still not going to either of them? He knows he's slowing losing his memories and his identity, he knows it's a problem, and yet he's still avoiding asking for help. I'm sorry, but enough is enough. This has gone way past my suspension of disbelief. He's had time to make a request, he's had time to figure out there's a large problem, and he's still not doing anything. There's no excuse for it, and it's just dragging this out. If he doesn't ask for help in a chapter or two, then he's just a complete idiot, or he's being forced to act like an idiot for the sole purpose of drama.
Seriously, there's no reason he should not be asking for help from at least Luna by now.
Cuffs is one of those guys that I would LOVE to see knocked on his ass a couple times. I mean, he cant be on duty ALL the time can he?
1447693 That has to be the best description of a failed chapter I've ever read!!!
Cuffs is making me hate government officials more and more... Always butting into your business and assuming exactly the wrong things about situations
2922658 oh don't worry he will get fired cause that's how the plot goes when there's a bad cop...
LOL!
Poor Sweetie!!!!
also
.
.
.
red guy's a dick....
-.-
1550888
Except he might have no idea how to get in contact with her? Or be too proud to ask for help? Or not consider that she might know what's going on and try to help?
As readers, since we follow the perspective of the protagonist, it can be easy to fail to see things from the perspective of other characters, and we often end up blaming them for actions that are quite reasonable under the circumstances when those actions oppose the protagonist. A good example would be blaming the main six for their treatment of Scriber earlier in the story. It wasn't right of them, but it shouldn't be held against them either.
Cuffs, on the other hand, is a different matter entirely.
Fuck that guy.
-----
On to the typos:
You ended this sentence with two periods. If it was meant to be an ellipsis, there needs to be three.
Spacing error
Wrote "followed" instead of "follow"
Spacing error
Wrote “a” instead of “at”
That injury.... *shudders* I hate limb injuries... especially fingers and their equivalents. *shudders again*
Well that is better than a torso or a head injury.
A cut is better than taking an arrow to the knee.
7327255 8 people disagree with you
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Heh, can I kill you now?