• Published 24th Sep 2011
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The Book of Friendship - BillyColt



Two ambiguously gay Mormon ponies.

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Chapter 13

Chapter 13

There was a crack in the ground. Actually, it was a bit larger than a crack. It was a small fissure, large enough for an unwitting pony to find themselves stuck, should there be a misstep. Down in the fissure was a unicorn, constrained in a tight squeeze. The unicorn stood there, sweating from the heat. The space was so small that he was cramped in, barely able to breathe or move, which turned an itch from a minor discomfort into a severe torment.

“You dead yet?” asked a voice above. The unicorn looked up as best he could. There, peering down at him, was the gruff face of the general.

“No,” said the unicorn, too tired to inflect his voice.

“Good,” said the general in a bored tone, “not finished yet.”

They were in General Quake’s camp on the edge of the town. It was a small camp guarded by earth pony soldiers. All of Quake’s soldiers were armed with guns and fitted with very basic matching uniforms. Some of the higher-ups, like his lieutenants, got slightly fancier uniforms (though fancy didn’t mean much on this island). The camp was surrounded by walls, which, admittedly, were not that good of a defense when both enemy factions were airborne.

“So, how the fuck do we fix it?” asked the general.

“Look,” said the unicorn, shuddering, “I don’t know how it works, I’m not an engineer.”

“The fuck do you mean? It’s your shit! You telling me you don’t know how your own shit works?”

“Smells better than yours,” the unicorn muttered. A second later, he realized he’d just made a horrible mistake. He looked up and saw the general reaching across the fissure. “Wait!”

The general didn’t pay attention. He put one powerful hoof on the other end of the crack and, flexing his muscles, he pulled. There was a rough, scraping sound, and the crack became narrower. The unicorn, realizing what was happening, screamed for him to stop, but the closing walls soon made it impossible to breathe. When the general lifted his hoof, the fissure was closed.

“Fucking douche,” he muttered, before walking off. “And somepony get me a damn drink.”

General Quake was the one in charge of the island, more or less. He was the head of the military force and as such, he was as close to “law” as it got for this shithole island. He surveyed his camp, watching the soldiers stroll around, all of them as bored as their general. All in all, a typical day. Quake looked down at the tiny crack that was the only evidence of the fissure existing.

“Sir?” asked one of his lieutenant. “There’s a pony here that wants to talk to you.”

“Who is it?” asked Quake.

“One of the missionaries, sir.”

“Oh, fuck, those two again...” he groaned. “Where is he?”

“I showed him to your tent.”

“Oh, no, no, no...” Quake said, shaking his head. “Why the fuck did you do that? He’ll fag it all up. Remember what he did to Tap’s tavern? That fucking ‘showtune night...’” He snorted. “What do they want, anyway?”

“He says he has a letter,” said the lieutenant, now a bit embarrassed.

“Huh?” Quake asked, “This isn’t that time of week. Oh, forget it...” he grumbled, walking off to his tent.

It turned out that the horner was a massive momma’s boy who insisted on not only sending progress reports to the Fraternity, but also on sending personal letters back home. Quake had insisted on approving every letter before it went out. If those idiots let sensitive information get out, he was boned, and the last thing he wanted was to be boned by those two.

He entered into his tent to find to his great surprise that it wasn’t the horner who was in there. It was that blue pussy with the glasses. He had a rolled-up scroll in his mouth and was sitting patiently waiting for the general.

“Alright, what the fuck do you want?” Quake asked, making Scroll jump out of his seat.

“Well, I, uh, I-I-I-I...” Scroll stammered.

Quake snorted, walking to his desk and sitting down behind it. He stammers. He always fucking stammers.

“Just give me the fucking letter,” he said, wanting this to be over as soon as possible. Scroll quickly dropped the letter on the desk. The general spread the letter out with his hoof. “Why’s it you this time and not the horner?”

“This isn’t White’s letter, sir,” said Scroll, “it’s mine. Besides, he’s back at the mission house with Clip.”

General Quake looked down at the letter.

Dear Mom and Dad,

Hi. Sorry I haven’t really been sending any letters. Just wanted to let you know that everything’s going great. Brother White is a really wonderful friend and when we’re done with our mission I’d like you to meet him. I’ve even learned how to bake pies, though nopony’s really interested. Tap likes them, though (she’s a bartender). Aside from that not much is happening, except for that colt who hung a noose in front of the mission house. He was very rude.

Anyway, the reason I’m writing is that I want to start a library here on the island. I think it’d be a great thing for the ponies here if we could start a library. So I’d like it if you could gather up all my books so I can use them. And I mean all of them: all the ones on my bookshelf, all my books from school, all those old books you used to read me when I was a foal, and anything else you can think of. I want all of them. Just take them over to the Fraternity and they can send them over here.

Love,

Scroll

Quake’s eyes glazed over. This guy was as much of a pussy when he was writing as he was when speaking.

“I’d like to start a library,” said Scroll.

“I can read that,” Quake said impatiently.

“Well, I...”

“Shut up,” said Quake. “What’s this about a kid with a noose?”

“Well, yesterday, there was this colt who was on the roof with a noose, and he called me a–”

“You don’t get it,” said Quake, “I don’t give a shit about what some piece of street shit’s doing. What I want to know is why it’s in your fucking letter.” The force of the last statement made Scroll lean back, his mouth opening and closing, trying to speak.

“Just take out that part and send your fucking letter,” he said, blowing the piece of paper back in Scroll’s face. Scroll promptly turned and briskly walked out of the tent. “And tell your butt-buddy to stop sending me gift baskets!” he shouted after him. “I FUCKING HATE THOSE!”

The tent was silent for a few minutes.

“The shit I hafta put up with...” Quake groaned. “I need some fucking breakfast...” he muttered. For a brief moment, he almost wished those two – even if they were spineless pansies – hadn’t abandoned their Missionary House of Pancakes project.

___________

The forest was how Earthquake Island managed to support itself. Outside of the town was a massive, dense forest of trees that stocked all the food and wood that the ponies needed. The trees were all carefully arranged in rows and columns, like a giant orchard. A huge swath of it had been burned down in the attack, but General Quake wasn’t too concerned. The earth ponies would make them all come back soon enough.

The general walked through the forest, followed by his two lieutenants. They looked from side to side, surveying the place. Meanwhile the earth ponies cleared the burnt and dead trees, overseen by guards.

“Hey! You’re not supposed to be here!” A voice shouted. The general’s ears pricked up, and he looked in the direction of the voice. A guard was shouting at two guys who seemed quite nervous, and were looking at each other as though trying to come up with an excuse.

Quake snorted. “What’s going on here?” he asked. All eyes turned to him, and the two earth ponies looked like they were going to shit themselves.

“Well, we, uh...” said one of them. The general looked down and saw a bag next to one of them.

“What’s in the bag?” he asked.

“The, uh...”

What's in the fucking bag?” Quake barked. “You,” he said to his lieutenant, who walked up to them. He stuck his hoof into the bag and pulled out an apple. “Oh, fucking lovely, just what we need...”

“Sir,” said the other earth pony, “please, we lost our home in the–”

“Shoot them,” interrupted Quake.

“But sir–” protested the first earth pony.

When the lieutenant didn’t shoot, Quake grabbed his rifle and then turned it on the first earth pony. There was a bang as he was shot through the chest and fell to the ground, dead. The earth pony’s friend turned to try to run away, but Quake was quick to turn the rifle on him. Soon, the second earth pony was shot him down as well. Not even stopping to look at the dead bodies, Quake spat the rifle back at his lieutenant, who stumbled backwards as it hit him the face.

“The next time I give you a fucking order,” said Quake, “you fucking do it instead of standing there like a retard. Got it?”

“Y-yes sir!” stammered the lieutenant.

“And don’t fucking stammer,” said the general, still annoyed by his meeting with Brother Scroll.

Fucking looters, Quake thought to himself. Every once in a while, somepony thought he’d try to grab some fruit from one of the trees. His trees. In a way, he was somewhat relieved. Those two shits had given him something to kill, which he didn’t often have a reason to do when there wasn’t an attack going on. Killing usually helped him blow off a little bit of steam, but today he was just annoyed. He wasn’t here to pick up his guards’ slack. The forest was not what Quake was concerned about right now. That’s not to say he didn’t give a fuck about the forest, but the purpose of this visit was slightly different.

Further in, the trees were denser, as the damage from the unicorn attack hadn’t reached here. Eventually, however, the trees stopped, and there was a large basin filled with water – a lake of sorts, but the water didn’t fill the entire basin. There were several of these lakes, which served the island’s reservoirs, with a network of irrigation that watered the entire forest. It was a lot of water, for sure, but it was strained. Overlooking the lake was a cliff. The general looked up.

“Hey!” he shouted. “Get your ass out here!”

A very bored-looking earth pony walked out onto the edge of the cliff.

“Turn it on!” barked the general.

“Uhhh, sir?” asked the pony. “We’re not scheduled to do that until–”

“I don’t give a fuck about when you’ve got scheduled, turn it on!” Quake barked. The pony on the cliff took a deep breath and walked away from the edge. Quake stood there, pawing the ground impatiently. “I shouldn’t have to tell ponies twice about simple things like ‘shoot them’ or ‘turn on the fucking–’”

Just then, a torrent of water poured over the cliff, crashing into the lake below with a thundering, tumultuous roar.

“Fucking finally...” muttered the general.

___________

Quake couldn’t help but see everything in the town as flimsy. When Quake had enough raw strength to shake the island with a stomp of his hoof, the buildings in town seemed like they were made of balsa wood.

He got an idea – how about constructing buildings out of stone? Those wouldn’t break so easily. Then again, being on an island, they didn’t have a rock quarry, meaning they’d need to import the stone.

Importing stone, he thought, that’s retarded.

He also figured that making stone houses would take too long, and it seemed unnecessary when the earth ponies had so quickly rebuilt and had gone back to business as usual. He looked over at one familiar spot – the tavern. Already up and in business.

He stepped through the door, looking around. The place already looked like it’d been well-worn, despite having just been rebuilt. Maybe a drunk had pissed on the floor; he didn’t know. He saw that Tap was working alone at the counter while a group of ponies played cards at a table in the corner.

“Quick to get back on your feet, aren’t you?” asked Quake, walking up to the counter. “Where’s your brother?”

“He’s with the missionaries,” Tap said, sounding as bored as ever, “something about a giant trampoline...”

“Those two...” said Quake. “You hang around with them a lot. Why?”

“I’m hoping I get to see them make out,” Tap said, looking up. “You want something?”

“A drink,” said Quake, sitting at the counter. “There isn’t anything to break, so I need some fucking booze.”

Tap might’ve said something snarky in response to that, but making smart remarks to Quake tended to not end well. Instead, she just put a bottle in front of him. Moving on with her work, she put some other drinks on a tray, before leaving the counter to serve the card-players. Quake turned his head and watched her as she did so, smiling a little at the way she walked.

When Tap had dropped off the drinks, she turned around and saw the general leering at her. She stopped for a minute before taking a breath and walking back to the counter.

The general smirked. She was scared of him. Everypony was, and that was how he liked it. He didn’t own this island because he had the biggest guns or the biggest army or because he was probably strong enough to sink the entire fucking rock into the ocean if he felt like it. Well, come to think of it, that might’ve been it. The point was, he owned it. Nopony would ever stand up to him, because he was the only thing standing between them and a horde of horners and wingers who were a lot less nice to them than he was.

“I like you, Tap,” said the general, “and not just because you’re a great piece of ass.”

“You don’t have to flatter me, y’know,” she said, “you just need to pay.”

“Oh, I’ll pay you plenty,” said Quake, “but I’m just sayin’. I don’t think anypony on this entire fucking island really appreciates you like I do.” Tap stopped what she was doing. Slowly, she turned around, a quizzical expression on her face. “All these other guys,” Quake said, gesturing to the card-players, “they just think of you as some bitch they can stick their dick in. Not me, though.” He leaned over the counter. “I respect you.”

“Respect me?” Tap asked dubiously, but not with her usual sardonic tone. “What do you mean by that?”

“I think you’ve got a good head on your shoulders,” said the general, “you’ve got a lot more sense than most of the dipshits I surround myself with. That’s why I pay for you.” He got up from the counter, leaving Tap relieved that it seemed he was going to get out. However, Quake did not exit the building, but instead walked right through the opening in the counter that Tap walked out of to deliver drinks.

“What’re you doing?” Tap asked, stepping back as the general cornered her. She wasn’t one to lose her cool, but now, for maybe the first time, the general was personally scaring her.

“See that?” Quake asked, approaching her. “That’s what I can do. Anywhere. My island, my way,” he said, walking up to her until his face was right in front of hers. “If I wanted I could just take you, but I don’t.” He smiled. “I think you’re worth it.” He closed his eyes and lowered his head into her mane, sniffing. “And I can give you anything you need,” he breathed, “for the small price of anything I want.”

He stepped away. “I’ll see you later, Tap,” he said, turning to leave. Tap sank against the wall, trying to catch her breath.

___________

The general continued walking through the town. He was going to pay a visit to the missionaries. Although part of him told him he’d regret it, he had a sack over his shoulder and an idea. When he came to the mission house, he sneered. It seemed like the building was every bit as smug and faggy as the missionaries it housed. And there was a cock on the door, too. Fitting. The thing he found confusing, however, was the giant trampoline out in front of the building. Just... sitting there. Quake puzzled over it for a minute before shaking his head. He marched through the doors to see White and Clip sitting in a corner of the room. They were on the floor with book in front of them. White had a hoof on a page, while Clip tried to follow along.

“Dancer... has...” Clip read. He stopped, peering more closely at the book. “Cloh-ooh...”

“Cloudchaser,” said White.

“Cloudchaser’s,” Clip continued, “ball.”

“That’s very good, Clip,” said White. “That was a long word.”

“I hope I’m not interrupting anything important,” said Quake. The two ponies looked up at him, startled.

“All ready!” called Scroll’s voice from the kitchen, before he trotted out with a plate stacked with these odd-smelling brown-and-yellow bread things in his mouth. He, too, saw the general, and stopped.

Quake looked at the contents of the plate. “The fuck are those?”

“Grilled cheese sandwhiches,” said Scroll through his teeth, “want one?”

“No,” said Quake, sharply, leaving Scroll despondent that his cooking had once again been brushed off.

“Clip,” whispered White to the pink colt, “why don’t you take one of Scroll’s sandwiches and go in the kitchen?”

“Okay!” said Clip, bounding up to Scroll. Quake watched with a slightly confused expression as the crippled pegasus trotted into the kitchen with a grilled cheese sandwich.

“So,” Quake continued, “it’s come to my attention that when you two fags aren’t doing each others’ asses, you want to ‘help.’” He slipped the sack off of his shoulder, where it hit the ground with a loud THUD! “Well, here’s your golden fucking opportunity.”

The general lowered his head, biting the sack. He lifted his head again, taking away the sack, and revealing the contents. It was a contraption attached to a tripod, with a set of metal discs next to it. Scroll set the plate of sandwiches down and adjusted his glasses. White froze. He recognized what it was.

“That’s a... that’s a...” said White, shaking a hoof at it.

“Disc launcher,” said Quake. “It’s very simple. You set it up, load up a disc, and when the wingers send down one of their fucking tornadoes, ya shoot at it. Discs go flyin’ around and slice ‘em up. Ya got that?”

“But that...” Scroll said, recoiling from the realization.

“What’s the matter, Scroll?” Quake asked. “Too much of a pussy? Howabout you, White?” he looked at the still-frozen Brother White. “Oh, wait, I forgot, you’re a fucking horner. You’re all pussies.”

“No...” said White, “you can’t ask us to do that...”

“Not asking you,” Quake said. “I’m just suggesting that maybe if you two butt-munchers really want to help, then here’s something you can do. So the next time the wingers come here, and they send down a tornado, then use this. Who knows, maybe you two useless fucking fags could save a few of our lives.”

Scroll looked from the device on the floor back up to Quake, who was smirking. “Listen, sir,” he said, “we... we can’t. This, this device,” he waved a hoof at it, “it’s a horrific instrument of war. We can’t use it, it’d violate several of the Fraternity’s principles.”

“And what’ve your fucking Fraternity’s principles got you?” Quake asked. “Huh?” The Brothers were silent. “Nothin’, that’s what. A big fat fuckload of nothin’.” He walked up to the front desk, where the Fraternity’s books were stacked. “See this? This is the book you’re handing out?” He lifted a hoof and opened one of the books. “Dear Princess Celestia...” he read in a mocking voice. He swung his hoof, scattering the books across the room. “Give me a fucking break.” He turned his head to look at the Brothers. Scroll was cowering behind White, who was staring at him. “What’re you looking at me like that? You checking my ass again?”

“You ask us what it’s gotten us?” White asked. “I’ll tell you what.” He put his foreleg around Scroll. “It’s brought us together. And general, I think that if you just honestly listened to us, you might learn something.”

General Quake stared at White for what seemed like an hour. “Fuck if I care,” he said. “There’s your disc launcher. Use it or don’t.” And with that, he turned and marched out of the mission house, leaving its inhabitants huddled in the corner.

He thought about them while he walked through the town. He knew they wouldn’t do it. They’d just shove that thing in a corner and go back to fucking each other or whatever it was those gay ponies did. He thought to himself how much they pissed him off, what with their singing and their smiling and their “we wanna be your friend” shit. White always stood there with that cocksucking grin on his face, and Scroll was always behind him being oh-so-preciously meek.

“Well, fuck ‘em!” Quake said to himself.