Journeyman needs sleep · 7:54am Oct 5th, 2016

You got a lot of weird things to paper when you're tired and high off nightquill

So I went into the local sweet shop. Nopony expects to find garrotes, swords, and chainsaw launchers next to the Double Bubble, but I suppose that’s what made Ponyville one of a kind. Local yokels never see them, but I do. There was quite the influx of new residents moving into Ponyville after the return and subsequent fall of Nightmare Moon. Normally you’d expect the opposite to happen: ponies would move out in droves. So why were there suddenly so many ponies wanting to spread roots in this ass-backwards place?

Most of the times they didn’t know I saw them. Many times they just didn’t care. A couple times I had to put as many doors, obstacles, and fire between them and me as I ran away screaming while pissing myself to look like a less appetizing target. These shadow organizations were well-funded, well-trained, and would push my shit in so goddamn hard it’d register as an earthquake. I’ve just never been worth the trouble during all the piddly side jobs I do. Dangerous, ruthless, vicious as they were, sometimes whatever crazy stuff that was going on wasn’t worth their time. I’d imagine whatever red tape or bureaucracy they had to cut through threatened their reaction time on occasion anyway. If there was one thing I had on them, it was that I was faster.

But would it kill them to lend a hoof on occasion?

“Hey, Bonny!” I said as I opened the sweet shop door. I’d met the shop owner after an explosion almost killed Twilight Sparkle and a foalnapper that had held her hostage. Bon Bon probably would have killed me if I hadn’t gotten their first and pulled Twilight out of the fire. I still didn’t know what organization she worked for. Hell, I didn’t even know how many were farting around town. At least she tolerated me most of the time. I outweighed her by a good thirty pounds, but the family jewels quickly learned arguing with her wasn’t a good idea.

Bon Bon put on the plastic smile that she could pull on at the blink of an eye only to realize who was speaking. Her face fell into a dull mask of boredom due to her empty store and lack of that overly affectionate apartment mate of hers. “What can I get for you?” she asked in a bored monotone.

Well, somepony was cheery.

“Some licorice rope, a pound of saltwater taffy, throw a shitload of jellybeans in a bulk bag, and a couple of jawbreakers.” Mechanically she filled my order, half an eye always on me. She bagged everything up and slid them towards me. Junk food helped me think.

“Anything else I can get or you?”

Here it goes. “Yeah, kinda. If you’re busy then that’s alright. Do you have a fifty gallon drum of acid or something like that? Or a good bone saw? I tossed some things in a gym bag and locked them in my freezer, but I still need to find a good place to get smaller, more manageable pieces to--”

“Keep speaking and they will find precisely one piece of you when you disappear.”

I sighed. It was worth a shot. “And half a pound of caramel pecan, please.”

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