It was supposed to be a comedy, but then this happened · 3:36pm Oct 8th, 2017
Ripple Rusher was not at all as Buttermilk Oddbody remembered her and the young mare standing on the skiff having a break appeared as though she had aged far more than the years that had passed by since seeing her last suggested. Three foals huddled together in a small pen near the rudder, with the oldest being a well-developed yearling and the youngest looking very much like an infant.
“Ripple Rusher, it’s me… Buttermilk.”
Recognition sputtered like a fire igniting wet wood and Ripple Rusher, a pegasus, reached out one wing to rub her chin. Something tugged at Buttermilk’s heart when she looked at the three foals and realised that her foalhood friend was their mother. The crow’s feet around Ripple Rusher’s eyes deepened as her lips pulled back from her teeth in a weary, worn out smile.
“Buttermilk… it’s been forever. How’ve ya been?”
And to this, Buttermilk didn’t know what to say. She squirmed on the outside, but on the inside she was doing complex mental gymnastics. Three foals, all of which looked a little hungry, a whole lot bored, one beat up looking skiff that had seen better days, and one pegasus whose sides held a gentle swell to them—a sign of recent birth or yet another pregnancy, it was impossible to tell.
“I’ve been fine.” Even as she said them, Buttermilk winced, as this was just the wrong thing to say to an old friend, but what else could she say? Right now, she wanted to fly away and be gone from this awkward, cringe-inducing moment, but she needed a ride home and maybe, just maybe, Ripple Rusher needed her friend. “University. It’s been stressful. I’m about to graduate and then I guess I’ll be moving onto an even more stressful career.”
The young pegasus mother coughed, her ears waggled, and she replied, “I wouldn’t know anything about that, university stuff, but I do know about working and stress.” Ripple Rusher chuckled a bit and looked her old friend up and down. “You never grew up and filled out. You’re still the little gawky filly that I remember.”
Blushing, Buttermilk didn’t know how to respond, so she pushed past it and got to the point. “I think I could get a ride home? I’d be willing to pay a fair fare, at least I hope it would be fair. I don’t know the going rate.”
“I’d be happy to take you home,” Ripple Rusher replied, her head nodding up and down. “I haul whatever I can to make a living, from ponies, to cargo, I carry it all.” The pegasus mare’s chuckles became bawdy laughter. “Most of my customers only have one kind of ride in mind and a mare’s gotta do what a mare’s gotta do to make a living.”
Standing on the dock, Buttermilk had second thoughts. Turning her head, she looked at Copperquick, squinting in the sun, and then she focused on her foalhood friend once more. What terrible fate had she escaped by leaving this place and seeking education? This wasn’t the sort of place that took kindly to the thought of welfare—everypony here was responsible for pulling their own weight somehow and failure to do so would get one shunned. Excuses would be met with derision and sneers of contempt.
There were no valid excuses and Buttermilk began to remember why she had left this place.
“Thanks, Rushy, I’d be happy to catch a ride with you.” The words clung in Buttermilk’s throat like a wooden carrot that refused to be swallowed and she had trouble looking her old friend in the eye. But look her friend in the eye she did, and Buttermilk tried to be as compassionate as possible.
“Who’s your beau?” Ripple Rusher asked and from what Buttermilk could tell, there was a sincere look of interest upon her old friend’s face.
“That is Copperquick. He is very dear to me—”
“Yeah, well, don’t fronk it up, you hear?” Ripple Rusher leaned in and Buttermilk’s eyes began to water from the stench of rye fumes. “He looks like a decent sort… don’t mess that up. I messed up… I gave away the goods because of a promise, and that promise wasn’t kept.” Ripple Rusher’s eyes turned a sidelong glance in the direction of her foals, and then she looked Buttermilk in the eye once more, breathing soured wind.
“After that slip up, he went and done told everypony what we did. What I did. He got to be a stud with bragging rights and I got to be a…” Words trailing off, Ripple Rusher coughed and her expression became one of intense bitterness. “I lost my job as a clerk in the dry goods store because Mrs. Spool didn’t approve. I found a lot of doors slammed in my face. I was stupid though, and didn’t learn, and gave it away again on a promise because I was desperate and needed a daddy, and that didn’t end well at all. I thought it might fix my problem.”
“Rushy, I’m sorry.” Buttermilk was sorry, and she felt a little guilty now about leaving for school.
“Now I have a reputation,” Ripple Rusher said and her words were laced with rye whiskey, regrets, and sorrow. “There’s only one thing that ponies expect from me now and I gotta keep my little ones fed somehow. It’s rough, Buttermilk… I’ve missed having you around… having somepony to talk to. Somepony to sort things out with. Why’d you have to go?” Her eyes narrowed, became unfocused, and her ears sagged down until they came to rest upon the weathered sides of her face.
So I wouldn’t end up like this, Buttermilk thought to herself, and as she did, she winced in pain. She hadn’t said the words, but just having them in her mind was too much. Much to her own shock, surprise, and horror, she found the truth slipping out from between her lips. “There were things about myself I had to improve, to make better, and there was no way that I could have done them in this backwater. Let’s be honest, shall we? Mares aren’t expected to be educated here, just compliant. We do what we’re told, we follow the rules, and the best we can hope for, the best we can hope to achieve is to be ‘respected’ for keeping our heads down, working hard, and doing what is expected of us. That’s something I couldn’t live with, Rushy.”
“Well, welcome back to the backwater, Miss Oddbody… everything should be just about the same as when you left it.” Ripple Rusher laughed, a cynical, sardonic laughter that held no joy, the sort of laughter that were tears pretending to be something else and exiting elsewhere. “Hopefully my bad reputation won’t rub off on ya.”
I just don't know what went wrong.
Well, rather than wrong, maybe it's an opportunity to majorly upset ignorant lifestyles.
I see nothing wrong here. I dont even see how one would make that comedic. I say keep it.
That kind of experience can really be upsetting. I am not the exact same as Miss Oddbody here but can understand her discomfort. People I went to school with have changed and aged while for me it seems time has stood still. I have people that I sat side by side in high school who are now grandparents and look beaten down by the world. Me I look like a young woman of college age and I have an energy for living that I didn't when I actually was in college or high school back in the 90s. It is disconcerting seeing how their lives have gone and mine as contrast and such meetings are really uncomfortable.
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From the looks of it, everything
Any good comedy needs reality to it.