I'm Still Working On Stuff · 6:02pm Nov 27th, 2021
Because I'm slow to push stuff out, I thought that it would be nice to share this new one-shot that I'm working on. The section below contains at least three pages of the current document, so it should be enough to stave your hunger for content until it's actually ready to publish. That, and well, you know I'm working on stuff at the very least.
Squeak-Squeak, Squeak-Squeak, Squeak-Squeak…
Endymion shuffled his hooves along the tiled floor of Pirate Island Supermarket. He was trying to find a rhythm with the consistent squeak, squeak, squeaking of the wheels from the cart being pushed by his mom. Not because he thought it’d be fun, but because he was bored. Bored, bored, bored. Bored, bored —
“I’m bored!” He reared his head back and groaned as loud and tangible to the ear as possible.
“Then you can help me find everything we need,” Luna said. She halted at the end of the aisle, the tiny pennon sticking from the cart with a skull and crossbones on it wobbling, and examined the sign hanging from the ceiling above the action alley. She mumbled the words to herself.
“Why can’t we get castle staff to do it? Isn’t that what they’re for?”
Still staring at the sign with a decal of a foal holding the hilt of a sword in his mouth, Luna brought a hoof to her chin and rubbed it curiously. “Yes, having castle staff pick up our groceries is easier, but it leaves us as royals disconnected from the outside world. It’s part of the reason why you attend public school instead of private.” She extended a leg out toward the sign. “Endymion, I left my glasses in the chamber. Can you be a dear and read the sign for me?”
Endymion huffed and blew a lock of ethereal maroon mane away from his eyes. Lowering his head down, he grumbled, “It’s aisle seven. Laundry supplies.”
“Perfect! We can pick up that detergent your father likes.”
Endymion lifted his head up and followed as his mom began strolling into the next aisle.
“Why do we need detergent? We barely even wear clothes!”
Luna busied her eyes on the shelves, examining the copious products individually. “It isn’t the matter of wearing clothes, it’s the matter of what goes on when you’re in bed.”
Endymion’s ears flicked. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“You will learn when you’re older.”
“Mom, I’m twelve!”
Luna stopped the cart. “I’m about to reach my second millennium. You think I give a fuck?”
Her horn lit up and cosmic energy swirled around a gallon bottle of Purple Stuff™. It floated off the shelf, gently landing in the cart next to the eggs.
A wrinkled slip of paper followed by a fountain pen flew out of one of the saddlebags draped over Luna’s flank, and she marked Purple Stuff™ off the list.
“We have eggs…” she began mumbling to herself. “Detergent… bleach… rocks… all we need is pancake batter.” She stuffed the pen and paper back into her saddlebag and turned to her son. “Do you remember what aisle that was on?”
Endymion groaned. “Eleven,” he mumbled. “Right before we hit Produce Cove.”
“Good!” Luna exclaimed, patting her son on the head and rustling up his mane. “You are learning.”
Endymion ducked and stepped back out of reach of his mom. His maroon ethereal mane was disheveled, strays of it flowing in the air gently like clouds of nebula.
“Hmm, perhaps it’s time for you to get a haircut,” Luna said.
“I told you, I’m trying to grow it out! I want to get a ponytail, like Star-Patterned Skywing!”
The two moved forward as Luna resumed pushing the cart. “Is that the band you listen to while you’re doing your homework?”
“That’s not the name of the band, that’s the lead singer! And the band is called Cosmic Imbalance.”
“Hm,” Luna hummed. She steered the cart into the action alley. “Could be that I’m not with the times like I thought. What does their orchestra consist of?”
“They’re not an orchestra. They're a band. There’s a difference.”
“Okay.” Luna rolled her eyes, although Endymion couldn’t see this since she was ahead of him and watching out for enemy moms trying to find the last gallon of Purple Stuff™. “What does this ‘band’ consist of?”
“Bass guitars, synthesizers, remix stations…”
A pinkish-reddish color spread across Luna’s cheeks. “Well, I’m not really with the times after all. I’m just now hearing about some of these instruments.”
“How could you not be familiar with modern tech? Don’t you play video games?”
“I only play pre-seventh gen titles.”
Endymion grew quiet, mostly out of respect.
“Now where’s that pancake batter…” Luna mumbled.
Endymion took this as his cue to check the signs. Aisle nine… aisle ten… finally, they arrived at aisle eleven: Baking Supplies.
“It’s there, right there! Aisle eleven.”
Luna stopped her cart and squinted at the sign. After ensuring that it was, indeed, the correct aisle, she turned into it. They strolled together, watching the shelves.
“Can we get the kind with chocolate chips in them?”
“Unnecessary,” Luna said. “You can just put chocolate chips in the batter yourself. It’s healthier than the pre-boxed kind, especially if you use dark chocolate. Besides, your father wants to go on a keto-only diet for the next month. He has to still fit in his tuxedo when he goes to the ball in Saddle Arabia.”
Luna stopped and focused her magic onto a box with Keto Cakes etched onto the front. Wheeling the cart around so that she was facing in the opposite direction, she looked down at her son and said, “There, that didn’t take long. Now, all we have to do is bring the items to checkout, and we can head back to the castle.”
Endymion breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank Celestia. I was starting to get bored.”
Luna strolled past him, scowling at him as she did. “Be a smartass all you want, but don’t take my sister’s name in vain as you do.”
They strolled through the store together in silence after that. Mostly because Endymion was so excited to get home that he didn’t want to say something and risk stalling his mom. There were a few times when Luna would halt to look at something. He would get nervous when she did this and almost groan out of annoyance. He staved himself.
When they made it to the checkout line, Endymion almost yelled out of frustration. Not only was it full, but out of the nine lanes only three were open. This was outrageous! Ludicrous! Lame! Opprobrious! Yes, he knew that word!
“Moooom!” he groaned.
“Hm?” Luna looked down at her son beside her with a brow arched.
“Can’t you make the line go by faster?”
“I’m afraid not.”
“But we’re royalty!”
Luna sighed. Turning to her son, she lowered down to her fetlocks and said, “Endymion, if you are to be a royal, you must learn that there are things out of your control. The tides of war for example. Extreme droughts that could leave crops barren for months. A nationwide collapse of the bank. Powerful storms that could leave hundreds if not thousands without homes. Mares on their period. Sappy social media posts about how someone privileged is going through a hardship in their life, and that they’re going to pull through, just send prayers. You have to be ready for these things if you are ever going to lead a country.”
Luna raised her head back up and tried to look for the start of the line. It was on Lane 3. They were pushed back to Lane 9. She grimaced. “But some exceptions can be made.”
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