//------------------------------// // Chapter 15 // Story: The Book of Friendship // by BillyColt //------------------------------// Chapter 15 “Okay, so...” Scroll mumbled. He had a checklist in front of him. “Breakfast for Clip...” He glanced over at the colt in question, who was chewing on a piece of toast. “Check. Breakfast for the bum...” He looked over at a shabby earth pony who had passed out next to a plate of eggs. “Uhhh, White? Is that ‘check’ or ‘not-check?’” White poked his head out of the bathroom. “I think it’s a ‘check.’” He stepped out of the bathroom and made his way towards the kitchen. “So is that everything in order?” “Cookie plate...” He looked over at the plate of cookies on the desk. “Check.” “Can I have some?” asked Clip. “You can have one cookie, Clip,” said White. “Remember, the free food is for the guests... if we get visitors.” “You all set?” asked Scroll. “Yeah,” said White as he stepped into the kitchen. “Just give me a minute.” There were a few assorted items on the counter: a basket, a red-checkered cloth, teacups, and some sandwiches. A tea kettle was whistling on the stove. Using his magic, White lifted the kettle and placed it in the basket, before packing in the cups, sandwiches, and cloth. Now he had a nice little picnic basket, and he could have a nice little picnic. It’d be a bit of a break for the two Brothers, and one that White thought was well-deserved. A few days ago Scroll asked if they could just have a day for themselves: no mission work, no worrying about getting lynched; just a nice, quiet day outside of the town. Maybe they could chat and get to know each other better. He’d never really asked Scroll about his personal life: friends, family, hobbies, or any of that. He knew that Scroll had joined the Fraternity fairly recently, and didn’t have many friends before. He knew that Scroll was smart and liked to read and got nervous easily. He knew that Scroll was adorable and got laid first. “Aah!” cried out Clip’s voice. White rushed out of the kitchen. “What is it?” asked White. “My tooth...” said Clip, holding his jaw with his hooves. “I think I have a toothache.” “Well, let me take a look,” said White. He knelt down in front of Clip. “Alright, Clip, say ‘ahhh.’” “‘AhhAH!’” Clip opened his mouth, then leaned back in surprise when he found he couldn’t close it. “It’s alright, it’s alright...” said White. His horn was glowing; he was holding Clip’s mouth open. “Just hold still while I take a look...” He leaned forward, peering into his mouth. “Can’t really see anything serious. It just hurts a little?” “Ah-hah,” said Clip, who was sitting there awkwardly. “Well, let’s see...” A small flash of light came from his horn. “That better?” “Yeah...” said Clip, rubbing his jaw. “Was that magic?” “Yep!” said Brother White. “You see, with unicorns, our magic corresponds to our special talents. Now, my cutie mark is a smile, so my magic has to do with teeth.” “What about ponies that aren’t unicorns?” asked Clip. “What do they mean for them?” “Well, cutie marks generally relate to a special talent,” explained White. He looked at Scroll. “That’s right, right?” Scroll nodded. “My cutie mark is, well,” Scroll said, “it’s in my name. There are a lot of ponies with cutie marks like mine, actually.” “So...” said Clip, “does that mean that you’re less special?” “Uh...” Scroll stammered, “Well, uh, well...” “It’s not quite that,” said White. “Scroll’s special talent just so happens to be, well...” he looked at Scroll. “Reading?” “Something like that...” “Well, there are lots of ponies that do more academical things like studying, rather than specific talents like blowing bubbles and building houses. So just because Scroll has the same cutie mark as a lot of other ponies doesn’t mean anything.” He threw a foreleg around Scroll’s neck. “He’s my very special buddy, and I wouldn’t trade him for the world.” Clip looked down at the floor, sadly. “I don’t have a cutie mark anymore...” White’s smile faltered, and he stepped away from Scroll. He slowly walked up to Clip and knelt down on the floor. “Clip, listen,” said White. “Your cutie mark just shows your talent. The mark itself isn’t what makes you special. There is nopony in the world just like you, Clip, and nopony can ever take that away. Remember that.” He lifted Clip’s chin with his hoof. “C’mon and give us a smile.” “What about him?” Clip asked, pointing at the bum. “Same goes for him,” said White. “His talent is probably making bottles. It’s a useful skill.” Clip giggled a little. “There we go,” said White as he stood up. “We didn’t call them cutie marks on the Stormcloud,” said Clip. “I don’t think they call them those here.” He looked down. “General Storm doesn’t like ‘cute.’” “Well,” said Scroll, “she’s kinda a bitch, so...” “Now, Brother Scroll,” reprimanded Brother White. “That isn’t language we want to use.” “But she tried to murder me...” “Anypony who’d try to kill Scroll is totally a bitch!” exclaimed Clip. White and Scroll both looked at him open-mouthed. Scroll closed his mouth, and his face bore the expression of somepony who just discovered he’d made a huge mistake. “Well...” White took a deep breath. “You have a point, but let’s just try not to use that kind of language, okay? Anyway, let’s go, Scroll. We’ll see you later, Clip. And remember, one cookie, and make sure to work on your reading. Barrel will be over later to check up and see that everything’s okay.” White threw the door open floating the picnic basket and a sign in front of him. Cautiously, he stepped outside, carrying the sign in front of him. Scroll followed behind him; Scroll wasn’t quite so fearful of his own safety, but White held up his sign, reading Please Don’t Shoot. ___________ As they were on an island, it logically followed that there would be a beach somewhere outside of the town. It looked like a normal beach with sand and waves and most of the things one expects on a beach, but there was something off about it; something melancholy. The beach was completely deserted - normally at a beach one could find foals building sandcastles or stallions surfing or mares sunbathing, but not here. Here the only sounds were the calls of the seabirds in the deathly still air. Still, there was something nice about that. Considering that the town seemed to consist almost solely of assholes, a chance for a pony to get away and spend time with a very best friend was very welcome. White set down the basket before talking out the red-checkered cloth. It hovered in the air with a soft white aura before spreading and gently floating down to the ground. Scroll lifted the teapot out of the basket and set it onto the spread, while White set up the teacups and the plate of sandwiches. Scroll sat on the cloth, looking out at the waves as they gently lapped at the shore. “Ahh, this is nice,” said White as he sat down, pouring out some tea. “Kinda eerie, though - no wind.” “Well, no pegasi,” shrugged Scroll. “If somepony here felt a breeze they’d probably run for their guns.” “That’s...” said White. “That’s depressing.” “Yeah,” said Scroll. He leaned down and took the teacup in his mouth. “So, what are your plans for when the mission’s over?” asked White. “Oh...” Scroll took a sip of tea before placing down the cup. “I’ll probably go to college. Don’t know what I want to study. You said you were gonna go to dental school?” “Yeah. Good money there,” said White. “And lots of smiles. I like smiles.” “Just like Pinkie Pie?” “Just like Pinkie Pie,” White laughed. “What do you like, Scroll?” “Oh...” Scroll said. “Just stuff. I like books...” “What’s your favorite one?” Scroll looked at White. This was somewhat different: he’d never had a pony who seemed interested in asking about him. “My favorite book?” he asked. “Well... that’s kind of hard. There’s one I really like, though. It’s called The Steadfast. It’s about this guy in a far-off land who’s all alone against all these... these horrible, corrupt ponies. They try to get him to give in, but he doesn’t.” “Does it have a happy ending?” “Oh, yeah, it does,” said Scroll. “He wins and everything. And I love that book. It’s just... even when it’s so, so hard for him to win, even when it’s absolutely impossible... he does what he thinks is right. I find it inspiring.” “Well, I’ll have to give it a read,” said White. “Sandwich?” Scroll was snapped out of his reminiscing about the book by the cucumber sandwich floating in front of him. “Thanks,” he said. “I always wished I could be like him.” He looked down. “White?” “Yeah?” asked White. “I did something awful.” White slowly put his teacup back onto the saucer. “I told a lie,” said Scroll. “I lied to Clip. I told him I had a lot of friends, and I wanted him to look up to me, and... and...” He took a deep breath. “I don’t have any friends back home. That’s why I joined the Fraternity.” “Well...” said White, his voice barely above a whisper. “Um... You’ll have to tell him the truth.” “I know...” Scroll said. “It’s just... I wanted him to look up to me. Now he won’t be able to, because I’m a lying loser.” He looked back down, not wanting to look White in the eye. This was stupid, he thought. He was prattling about his insecurities to Brother White, and now White would think less of him... “You’re not a loser, Scroll.” “B-but...” stammered Scroll, “I’m a coward, and a wuss, and I break down after getting pity sex from a cute girl...” He felt something. He looked down and saw White’s hoof on his own. He looked up and his eyes locked with White’s. “Scroll,” said White, “I’m going to tell you everything that I think is great about you.” Scroll looked up at him. White was gazing at him, his eyes completely fixed. “You’re smart, Scroll. A lot smarter than I am. You’ve only been in the Fraternity for, what, less than a year? I mean, you know more about it than I do, and I’ve been in it my whole life.” “Well...” “And you’re not a coward,” White continued, “just scared. We’re all scared. And if you were a coward you’d have gotten right back on that boat and gone home. But you didn’t. You stayed here, and you’ve stuck to the mission, even when it’s hard. That’s courage, Scroll, not cowardice.” “I guess...” said Scroll. “But I don’t think I could’ve stayed here if it wasn’t for you.” “Aw, that’s alright. We all need a little help sometimes. That’s what friends are for, right?” White smiled. “C’mon, let’s see a smile.” Scroll giggled a little. “C’mon, smile,” said White, “I’m a dentist and I wanna see a smile.” Scroll grinned bashfully. “Thanks.” “Scroll, I want you to know this, no matter how much the other earth ponies here pick on you. It doesn’t matter if they tell you you’re worthless, or a pussy, or a... a faggot, because you’re not. You’re a wonderful pony, and I can’t think of anyone else I’d rather be with. And if you ever feel scared, or depressed, or lonely, or anything, I’m here for you. Remember the lesson that we learned from Fluttershy and Rarity - you can always be honest about your feelings with your friends.” Scroll looked away. “I don’t really know how I feel...” “How’s that?” “I just... since our mission started, all these things’ve happened. Sometimes I feel like I’m going to just explode or break down and cry.” He started to shake a little. “All, all these feelings about the mission and the war and the ponies here and, and, and if I can really help, if I if I can be a good role model for Clip, and I still don’t know about Tap, and you... and, and...” “There, there...” White said, putting a foreleg around him. “It’s okay. Just calm down, look at the sea, and take a few deep breaths.” “Times like this I wish I had an inhaler...” “You don’t have asthma,” White reminded him. “Now, what’s this about Tap?” “Well, y’know about our first night here, and we got drunk, and I...” “Yeah...” White said with a pause. “You felt pretty bad about it.” “Yeah...” said Scroll. “But I don’t know... I still have feelings for her, and I don’t know what to do.” “Well... why not just tell her?” Scroll shot up. “Tell her? But, but...” “Hey, think of it this way,” White said. “Worse things have happened to us than getting rejected by a pretty girl. If you just go up to her and tell her what you feel, what’s the worst that could happen?” “I... I dunno...” “I’m not gonna push you to this or anything,” White said, “but I think you’ll feel better if you come forward about it. Besides, I think she likes you.” Scroll looked at him. “Really?” “Hey, she knows you and she hasn’t called you any names. I mean, she liked you enough to, well, uh...” White didn’t want to finish that sentence. “She told me she thinks that you’re cute.” “Well...” Scroll closed his eyes. “Okay, I’ll do it. I, I’ll go right up to her tavern and tell her that I, that I, uh...” “Don’t worry about it. Just take your time and think of exactly what you want to say. I’ll help you if you want it.” “Okay...” said Scroll, nodding his head. “That’d be a big help.” He leaned over and rested his head on White’s shoulder, closing his eyes. “Oh yeah,” remembered White. “And you’re a great cook, too.” ___________ Clip puzzled over the book he was reading. Red and blue make... he blinked. That couldn’t be right: it was pronounced pur-puhl, not pur-pluh. Of course, the book had other mistakes. Brother Scroll had crossed some things out: The three primary pigments (Scroll had crossed out "colors") are yellow, blue, and red... Blue and red were struck out, and the words that replaced them he couldn’t figure out. Scroll hadn’t re-colored the drawing, so he didn’t really understand the difference; why were there different words with complicated spellings for the same colors? He sighed, looking up. Reading was hard enough when the book didn’t need corrections. More than that, he was just bored. He had his one cookie quite a while ago, and there wasn’t a whole lot for him to do. He looked at the door. He wasn’t locked in or anything, and the missionaries wouldn’t be back from their date until the end of the day. That left him a lot of time - he could do any number of things and they’d never need to know. He closed his book and prepared to step outside. He didn’t have anything to worry about, he thought. After all, he could be a tough kid when he had to, even if he was pink. Not that he necessarily liked being tough, but he could do it. When Clip stepped out the door, he turned to climb up the side of the building. He prided himself on that; whenever he saw a building, his eyes scanned it, looking for places he could climb up. He used to climb up on top of the buildings to escape from the mean dirt ponies who couldn’t follow him. The mission house was a particularly easy building to climb - all he had to do was go up a few empty crates and he was there. Even Brother White was able to do it once. From the roof, he surveyed the surrounding town. There was one nice thing about the houses getting destroyed in the attacks: when they got rebuilt, it was all new, and that meant more to explore. He looked at the nearest building, which was a ramshackle house. He took a running leap and cleared the gap. He was good at jumping. Sometimes he wondered if he had simply jumped off of the cloud in the first place, General Storm might’ve been impressed. Instead, that soldier had simply thrown him off... Then he realized that was a stupid idea. He liked being with the missionaries a lot better than the pegasi on the Stormcloud, anyway. The missionaries were nice. He walked along the rooftops, looking down at the ponies below. Most of them were pretty mean. Good for him that they couldn’t reach him on the rooftops. Indeed, they weren’t even very inclined to look up. “Hey! Fatass!” called a voice. Clip walked over to the edge of the roof and looked down. He saw Brother Barrel (who wasn’t actually a missionary but they called him that to show they welcomed him) at an apple stand. A distance away he saw a brown colt who was hassling him. “I’m talking to you!” “Shove off, Buzz,” said Barrel, doing his best to ignore him and continue doing business with the mare at the apple stand. “Hey, fatass, how much your sister charge?” Buzz resumed. “How much for her to suck my dick? How about to fuck her in the ass?” Clip saw that Barrel was looking at the produce with an unusual intensity. Buzz picked up a rock and threw it at Barrel. “Too bad she’s your sister!” he jeered. “That means you can’t fuck her, but that’s okay, because you spend so much time with those faggots that you’re probably gay!” The rock hit Barrel right in the head. “Agh! Fuck off, you little shit!” he shouted back. Buzz ran off, snickering to himself, while Barrel stood there. Clip didn’t like that; Buzz shouldn’t have used that kind of language. Though he could see that Barrel felt bad about that, as the earth pony had lowered his head. Well, he might’ve felt bad about that; he also might’ve just felt bad about Buzz being mean to him. In any case, Clip didn’t think that Barrel was gay. He wouldn’t have a problem with that, but he doubted it. Besides, he didn’t really want Barrel to be one of his daddies. ___________ White was considering playing the “what does this cloud look like?” game, but then he realized that there weren’t any clouds. Both of the missionaries were lying on their backs, looking up on the sky. “Say...” White sat up. “We’ve got an ocean in front of us.” “Huh?” Scroll asked, looking at him. White turned his head, beaming at his partner. “Whaddya say we go swimming?” Scroll sat up with a jolt. “Sw-swimming?” “Yeah!” “Oh, I dunno...” Scroll fidgeted with his glasses. “I mean, I’m not a good swimming,” he flubbed. “Well, there’s always a good time to learn,” said White. “I’ll help you.” Scroll looked from White’s smiling face to the ocean, and then back to White’s face. “Well...” he took a deep breath. “Okay.” He took his glasses off and placed them on the mat. White stood up. “C’mon,” he said as he started a brisk walk over to the edge of the water. Scroll slowly got up and followed, but he went much more slowly, being  a lot more timid than his partner. When Scroll got to the water’s edge, he placed a hoof into the oncoming wave. It was a little colder than he expected; not frigid, but not exactly warm. He looked over at White, who was further out into the water with his hooves submerged. Scroll followed White out to where he was standing. “Okay, this isn’t quite so bad...” Scroll muttered, as he felt the receding waves pull the sand out from underneath his hooves. “Alright,” said White as he approached. “You ready to go further?” He lifted his hoof and put it on Scroll’s shoulder. “I... I think so,” said Scroll. “Well, let’s go,” said White, slowly leading him further into the water. “We can do it either fast or slow. If you just jump in, you’ll get over it faster, but it can be easier to go slow.” “I’ll go, slow, I-” a wave came and lifted the two mission brothers up, soaking both of them up to their necks. “Alright...” Scroll shivered. “Fast, then.” “Hold onto me,” White said, extending his hoof. Scroll cautiously grabbed a hold as they waded further out into the water. “It’s easy. Just keep kicking your hooves and you’ll be fine.” They went a little further out. They were no longer able to touch the sand on the bottom, but they were able to stay afloat. Poor Scroll was clinging to White, flailing his hind legs. “It’s okay, you’re doing fine...” White reassured him. “No,” said Scroll as a panicked expression crossed his face, “I think I’m having trouble...” “Aw, you’re getting the hang of it.” “No, really!” squeaked Scroll. “Something’s pulling me under!” He flung his forelegs around White. “Help me!” White grabbed him, still kicking with his hind legs, but he noticed that Scroll was right. It was like the ocean was dragging them down. “Scroll! Hold on!” he shouted, trying desperately to hold Scroll above the surface. “Hold o-!” ___________ Barrel had agreed to stop by the mission house around the middle of the day. Brothers White and Scroll were off doing something else, and they’d asked him to drop by and make sure Clip was doing okay. Not difficult at all. He’d walk in, see Clip doing something, then walk out and head right back to the tavern. He trotted up to the graffiti-ridden door and threw it open. “‘Ello?” he called. “Clip? It’s Brother Barrel...” He found himself wishing he hadn’t lost his nametag. “Y’know, that other guy?” Clip, however, was nowhere to be seen. “Hello?” Barrel called again. He spotted the bum in the corner of the room. “‘Ey, you!” “Muh?” “Yeah, you seen a little pink winger? Uh... without wings?” “Saw pink elephants...” “Uhhhhh oh...” Barrel rushed into the nearby rooms. “Clip?” He checked the boxes in the storage shed. “Clip?” He checked all the cabinets in the kitchen. “Clip?!” He checked the pillow on the top bunk. When he failed to find Clip, he sat there, feeling pretty stupid. Of course, eventually he had to stop feeling stupid and realize he needed to find the little guy before the missionaries got back. This realization made him get up quickly - or as quickly as he could, given that he was somewhat fat - and bolt out of the mission house. ___________ Of course, Barrel was not likely to find Clip. He didn’t have cause to panic, though; Clip was still merrily trotting along the rooftops of Earthquake Island, much to the confusion of the occupants of said buildings. He took another running jump across a gap. He landed on the edge of another building, but this time, the tiles were loose. He slid right off of the roof, flailing and trying to grab at the wall. He managed to catch a grip at the windowsill as the tiles fell to the ground below, with a sharp clang! “Ow!” shouted a voice below. Clip looked down and saw one very angry-looking dirt glaring up at him. “Watch it, you little snot!” This was the sort of thing Clip wanted to avoid. He kicked his legs, trying to get back up to the roof, but his position did not afford him very firm footing. He was barely holding onto the edge of the windowsill, peering into a musty room. In it was a large bed and a nightstand with what appeared to be one of the Fraternity’s books... The door opened, and a mare walked in. Clip recognized her: it was Brother Barrel’s sister, the one that Scroll looked at a lot. She was pretty. She looked around the room before she spotted him and jumped back in surprise. “What the f...” she mouthed. She walked over to the window before slowly opening it. “What are you doing?” “Oh, nothin’...” said Clip. “Just hanging.” Tap sighed and leaned forward. She picked up Clip by the back of his neck and lifted him off of the windowsill, before setting him down on the floor. “Now, just what were you doing there?” “I slipped...” Clip said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Uh-huh...” said Tap, who really wasn’t sure what to make of that. She also wasn’t really sure whether she cared. “Well, that reminds me why I like two-story buildings and blinds,” she said as she shut the window and drew the curtains. “What are you doing out? Shouldn’t you be with the missionaries?” “They went on a picnic,” said Clip. “Really,” Tap said. “Don’t tell them that I wasn’t at the mission house...” Clip said in a quiet, guilty voice. “Ahh,” said Tap. “So they aren’t being dumber than usual.” “They are not dumb!” said Clip with an emphatic stomp of his little hoof. Tap had to laugh at that. “Alright, if you say so,” she said. She looked at the door. “Are you hungry?” “Kinda... I only had one cookie.” “Well, come on downstairs,” she said with a smile. “I’ll give you a lunch. On the house.” “Really?” asked Clip. “Sure,” said Tap. “Just... wait a few minutes before coming downstairs,” she added as she opened the door. “I... really don’t want to have to explain what I was doing in my room with a little colt.” ___________ Barrel tore down the street, stopping pretty much every pony he met. “Excuse me, sir/madam, have you seen a little pink colt?” he asked. This failed to get a “yes” from anypony. He ran through the town, looking in all the windows (which nearly led to some embarrassing confrontations), garbage buckets, outhouses, and various boxes. This, too, failed to find the colt. As he grew increasingly worried, he sat down and tried to think. Okay, Barrel, he began, if I were Clip, where would I be? He shot back up to a standing position. With the missionaries! With a massive wave of relief sweeping over him, he rushed off for the beach... That is where they said they were going, right? Yeah, I think that’s right. Of course, they didn’t tell him where on the beach they were planning to go, given that they’d adopted a “let’s-find-a-nice-place-and-sit-here” approach. It had worked for them just fine, but it didn’t give Barrel a whole lot to go on. There was little he could do but wander aimlessly along the beach, keeping his eyes peeled for any sign of Scroll and White. Unfortunately, he was quickly distracted by the extraordinarily silly sight of two seagulls fighting over a sandwich. He stopped walking and just watched them with an amused grin crawling over his face. It took him a few minutes for it to occur to him that the sandwich had to have come from somewhere. This jolted him back to the realization that he was supposed to be looking for Clip, so he continued down the beach. Fortunately for him, the big red-checkered picnic cloth was very conspicuous on the sand, but the missionaries were nowhere to be seen. He cautiously approached, as he wasn’t used to picnic setups. He looked around. “‘Ello?” he called. “Brother White? Brother Scroll? Where are ya?” He looked down at the spread. There was a basket, a plate with crumbs, a teapot, cups, and a pair of glasses. He lifted the lid off of the teapot and looked inside. Clip wasn’t in there. He checked the basket, too. He looked back at the glasses and puzzled over them. Why on Earthquake Island would Scroll leave his glasses on the ground? He was always wearing them, after all. He sat there, puzzling over the whole thing. In retrospect, it seemed pretty dumb for him to think that Clip would run off to be with the missionaries. After all, wasn’t the entire point of their outing to be alone? And in that case, if he had run into them again, he would’ve messed it up for them, and then he’d have to explain that he couldn’t find Clip... “Hmm...” thought Barrel as a bird landed on his head. ___________ Clip climbed up onto the stool and peered over the counter. “Well, there you are,” said Tap. She placed a plate in front of him with a sandwich on it. “I was wondering if you’d run off.” “I didn’t really know how much ‘minutes’ was...” said Clip. Tap laughed a little. “Well, that’s alright. I don’t think we’ve ever really been introduced. I’m Tap.” “They call me Clip,” said the colt as he cautiously poked the sandwich. “It’s not gonna bite, kid.” Clip picked it up and took a bite out of it. “Sorrih. Fometimes the uhver foals’d put san’ innem.” “Well...” said Tap. “A lot of the foals in this town are real shits, aren’t they?” Clip cringed. “Scroll and White don’t like to use those words.” “I gathered...” said Tap. “Sorry.” “It’s okay,” said Clip. “You’re still a lot nicer than a lot of the other dirts in town.” Tap raised an eyebrow. “I thought the missionaries didn’t like those words, either.” “Oh... sorry.” “It’s alright,” said Tap. She moved back, filling a few glasses with watered-down booze and serving the other customers. As she moved along the counter, she got a better look at the scars on Clip’s back. She shuddered - that happened to a kid? Fuck! “So, you’re from the... the Stormcloud, right? What’s it like there?” “Well...” Clip squirmed a bit in his seat. “They’ve all got ranks and a chain of command. I remember some of the other foals had higher ranks than me and they pushed me around. Well... actually, all of them had higher ranks than me, I think.” He paused, thinking. “Just like here. Except the general here is kinda different. Storm was more sneer-y.” “Oh, that fucking bitch...” groaned Tap. “So... what happened to you? Why are you here?” “They threw me off,” said Clip. “Oh...” Tap said. “I’m sorry.” “It’s okay,” Clip shrugged. “It’s better now. I’m with the missionaries, and they’re gonna take me to Equestria and they’ll get married and adopt me.” Tap laughed. “I’m sure they will.” She smiled fondly. “They’re nice to you, aren’t they?” “Uh-huh!” Clip said eagerly. “They read to me and play with me and give me ice cream! Though they don’t give me that much ice cream. They say it’s bad for me and I need to share it with the other ponies but the other ponies never take any...” The door flew open. Barrel lurched inside, heaving. “I can’t do it...” he wheezed as he pulled himself to the counter. “I looked everywhere for him, but he just vanished...” “Who, Barrel?” asked Tap. “Clip,” said Barrel. “I looked all over town, all over the mission house, I even looked for the Brothers... but I just couldn’t find him.” He groaned. “Why can’t I do anything right?” “Hi!” piped up Clip. “Hi, Clip...” Barrel moaned. “They’re gonna think I’m an idiot...” Normally, Tap might’ve laughed, but she saw something unsettling: there was a bruise on Barrel’s forehead. “Barrel, what’s that?” “Huh?” asked Barrel. “What’s what?” “That,” Tap touched the bruise. Barrel jerked away. “Barrel, what happened?” “Nothing!” Barrel blurted. “Buzz threw a rock at him,” Clip said. “WHAT?!” Tap shouted. “Somepony threw a rock at your head?” “It’s nothin’...” said a rather fidgety Barrel. “Barrel, somepony throwing a rock at you isn’t nothing.” “He’s just some stupid kid, Tap,” said Barrel. “I mean, he can’t do anything. He’s just a little asshole.” “That’s a bad word!” exclaimed Clip. ___________ An earth pony stared at a giant, hulking machine. He was supposed to make sure the damn thing worked, but he didn’t know how it worked. It was a big hulking thing, clanking to itself as the noise echoed through the cavern. At one end of the machine a torrent of water poured, while at the other end a huge pipe led deeper into the cavern. The water emptied into a large basin that then emptied into several other streams that led down different parts of the cavern. They would emerge out of the mountain and fall into the lakes in the forest. The machine’s function was simple: it took water from the ocean and somehow turned it into fresh water. It was a piece of stolen unicorn technology, and as such, the earth ponies didn’t understand how it worked. Or rather, how it wasn’t working. That clanking noise wasn’t there at first, but it grew. Sometimes the machine had trouble turning on, or it started shaking so violently it had to be shut off. Every time they flipped the switch, they were worried that it be down for good, leaving them without a water source. One of his pals was watching the “in” pipe. There was a little window in it, which they watched to make sure that if anything came in they didn’t want, they could fish it out. It was somewhat puzzling that the machine got rid of the salt, but if a fish or a piece of seaweed got in it was a humongous pain in the ass. Fucking horners, he thought. Even when we steal from them they’re a bitch. However, he saw something that he did not expect. “Uhh...” “What?” asked the earth pony at the panel (the buttons of which he dared not push). “I just saw...” The machine clanged some more, before it suddenly shut down. The two ponies looked at it. Shit. Then the machine gave a sickening lurching sound, and then a blast of water exploded out the end. The two ponies looked on in shock as two soaking ponies hit the wall of the cavern and slid down to the ground. “Well, what the fuck...” said one of the ponies. “I...” Scroll gasped, “need... a... hug...”