Isobar, pushing a cart of lawnmowers, called out to the colts and the fillies on the street. "Everypony! Want to help spruce up Ambling? Tired of it being stuck in stagnation? Then, fear no more! Some honest work, some honest and good work's up for the taking and for the grabbing, children!"
Not all of them went off to the cart, but a great number of them did—clambering their hooves on the cart as they attempted to hold on to the contraptions inside, all the while making a big noise as as they shouted and screamed.
"Hey, everypony, let's do this in an orderly fashion!" Isobar said. "We don't want to ruin these fine machines, do we?"
A mixed collection of "No!"'s went out from the young, youthful crowd, though not all of them said it. Others paid no attention, still jostling the lawnmowers about in a try to yank them out.
"If that's what you want, then let's get this cart rolling to good old Dandy Soda!"
Murmurs of positive, cheery delight surrounded the cart as it wheeled its way on the street, circled by a throng of foals with Isobar at the helm, having on him a subtle smile.
At the outskirts of Ambling, near a lush hill of the countryside, was a small cottage out of brick. It was tiny compared to the large houses back in the center of the town—one floor, a measly bungalow with three windows and a tight door. At the foot of the walls outside were a bunch of flowering bushes, giving life to the cottage.
The lot, however, was quite expansive. With no fence or other sign of a boundary for the house, its yard was, theoretically, infinite in its seamless fields of grass. The wind accentuated this point by moving the huge array of grass into a shared sway, standing in stark contrast to the rigidity and the stability of the lonely cottage in the middle of rurality.
The bustling sound of an approaching band of young ponies and the loud creaks of a cart's wheels became more audible as both of them neared the cottage.
Then, at where the dirt road stopped, the band and the cart stopped, also.
Festive, vigorous hushed murmurings was much of what Isobar heard as he looked at the young crowd around him. With a nod of his head, he walked towards the small house with the herd of foals following him.
At the door, Isobar knocked.
A moment of silence. Rufflings. Hurried hoofsteps getting louder.
The crowd hushed completely, now in its own silence.
The door swung open, revealing, besides a small wooden hallway with a few choice landscape paintings and ways to other rooms, a kind smile on the face of a sturdy stallion whose bushy mustache, top hat, and bowtie distinguished him from the ponies just outside. "Why, isn't it nice to see you?!" He clutched Isobar's hoof, surprising him slightly as could be seen by the sudden widening of his eyes.
"Yes, it's nice to see you, too, Dandy Soda," Isobar replied, going along with the strong greeting gesture. "Uh, how would you like it if you paid these foals for trimming your lawn? Better than just loitering about, right, mister?" He nodded throughout his request, his smile growing as it went on.
"Why not?" Dandy Soda said, taking his hat off and throwing it at the foals who, at once, jumped and ran to obtain that fancy top hat. The stallion let out a haggard laugh. "I earn too much, I guess," he then said, his smile fading away, though that wistful and wishing glint on his eyes was still there. "What's the use of all this money if I don't see the value of it?"
"Kind of strange coming from a pony who's gotten quite rich from what I've heard about you," Isobar said.
"It was what they call new wealth," Dandy Soda explained. "Some tried to deride it, saying that I'm profiting off of making foals' teeth unhealthy. Truth is, all candies do that and nopony complains unless it's clearly too much." Then, brushing something off with a hoof, "Nah, that's besides the point. Here I am, helping you helping these folk. I'm proud that you look after them as if you had children of your own." Finally, a grin with closed eyes.
Isobar smiled, too, the noise of colts and fillies still trying to get the fancy top hat for themselves persisting in the background.
"But, of course, you've got to get them to mow my lawn first, buddy!" Dandy Soda said, playfully pushing Isobar away and motioning a hoof towards the cart of lawnmowers.
"Heh, it must've slipped my mind, sir!" Isobar said in a nervous yet relieved tone as he trotted towards the cart and looked on at the anarchy of tumbles and turns and runs and chases and petty fights over a top hat that merely exchanged from one set of hooves to another in quick succession.
"Alright, everypony!" Isobar said. "That's Dandy Soda's hat, not yours, OK?"
After almost an hour of hard work and of questions about where Dandy Soda's property ends—which also meant questions bout where the work of mowing the lawn ends—the ponies, drenched in sweat but beaming with a job well done, walked to Dandy Soda who was now sitting on the dirt road, having watched the entire business from its start to its trimmed completion.
Laughter, chuckles, giggles; small talk, chit-chat, and discussions; jokes, shouts, expressions of awe—all these sprout out of the youth that bundled and huddled around Isobar as they all approached the stallion who was holding several stacks of bits along with sacks of bits as well nearby.
"That's it!" Dandy Soda said as he stood up and immediately shook Isobar's hoof, surprising him again and almost making him trip over and fall—through all of that, Dandy Soda smiled. "Look at that fine work you've all done there, cleaning up my place!"
Everyone looked behind them.
The grass, though disorderly just an hour ago, was now of equal height and stature. It was a muster of well-organized plants, all standing up to beautify the small cottage which remained the highlight of the location.
Dandy Soda took in a breath of the fresh countryside air.
Isobar, looking at him, did the same and closed his eyes.
A hoof on Isobar's shoulder.
As the crowd of foals descended into charged conversation and noise—now with the topic of having mowed somepony's lawn added to their repertoire of ideas and memories—Dandy Soda said, "If only the rest of them could think just like you do, Isobar. These ponies play, but in their play, I sense an endeavor to be gained. I sense an energy that would vitalize and shake this town to a grand morning, one that will rejuvenate this little village and bring it to the prominent forefront of our society if only we older ones stop thinking to ourselves that these younger ones have only minor desires in mind. Curiosity and inquisitiveness—the drive and the strive to cause a storm of innovation, freeing it from its indefinite laze. Oh! That you would bring this about in just a day, Isobar, but not everypony has this mindset and, if I were to be honest with you, it pains me at times whne I think of the wasted potential all because of this old-fashioned thought." He hung his head down, that glistening in his eyes remaining though dim.
Isobar looked at the stallion. "I don't know what to say, sir. But, I'll try, Dandy Soda."
Dandy Soda lightned up. "Good, Isobar."
Isobar then looked at the foals who were then back to squabbling and chasing each other and fighting—though, Isobar noticed that there were more smiles among the colts and fillies.
Isobar, flying past the buildings of Ambling, feeling the wind stream past him as his fur stuck out even if with not much notice, was moving about in town as the sun at its setting phase shone its sharp orange light on to the land, its rays more visible than ever.
Over there, a mare holding a box of chocolates. She was walking beside a stallion who was holding a box of chocolates. They smiled at each other, laughing at the little things they said that Isobar was too far away from to hear with clarity.
And, over at some other place, there was a group of foals flying some kites—running about, even, on the street as they went along with the curve of the road, their kites above somewhat following their direction and their path.
Also, over here, some ponies planting a few plants just outside the dirt roads, patting the ground where the plant finally was when all was said and done.
Isobar landed in front of a medium-sized house and folded his wings.
The house was two-storied. Like the other houses, there were wooden thatches—framework. The roof was made of hay. The family mumblings and mutterings from behind the walls and past the windows were of a hearty, upbeat kind.
Isobar knocked on the door. "Hello?!"
Then, rough and rapid hoofsteps, from the second floor to the first floor. A skid, a slide. Louder hoofsteps. The door glowed blue and it opened, revealing a tired yet smiling Watts Onion.
"Well, well, look who decided to show up just when I was thinking about that!" Onion said, pulling Isobar along and yanking him inside the house and closing the door with his magic, continuing his moving of the pegasus now with pushing instead of pulling.
"Who's that?" his father asked from inside the kitchen and unseen.
"Isobar!" Watts replied. "We're going to be upstairs and talk about the you-know-what!"
Not a word in response.
The two stopped midway through the stairs, both of them looking down.
"That's good! Fixing up your plans and thinking it all through before you make the first move, though it would've been better if you'd done it sooner. Unless he was busy beforehoof. But, anyway, go along!"
Watts faced Isobar and smiled.
"You're getting any crazy ideas, yet?"
"Just move!"
And Watts pushed Isobar up the stairs.
Watts Onion paced the floor, looking down at it with hoof on chin. He went here to his bed's side. Then, at the window. Then, at the railing of the staircase. Then, at his desk. Then, at his posters. Then at his bed's side again.
"Can you tell me what's going on?" Isobar asked. "You've gotten, well, unusual about this Winsome Falls mystery or case or whatever!"
"Well, do you want to pass up on such a royal opportunity?" Watts shot back, arching his eyebrows at his friend. "Besides, it's important official business we're dealing with here. If things go too bad, we call in the royal guards as backup, OK?"
"I can't believe you're viewing this in both ways and still be mistaken!" Isobar responded, approaching his friend and grabbing hold of him.
Watts gulped.
"I don't know what you've been doing, but you're not supposed to be thinking about this in crazy ways! Yes, this is important—no doubt about that. Yes, Princess Luna is the pony who ordered you to go to Winsome Falls and do something about what's there—I don't think you're just going there on some royal vacation. And, yes, I'd be willing to take this up when you're all prepared and set to go. But—" He let go of his friend and then raised a hoof in the air "—I also have my own life to think about! After a few hiccups, I've finally got the ball rolling on my organization work—brought a lot of the foals here some hard-earned money for mowing Dandy Soda's lawn. To take me out of the picture right after that would be sending these foals a not-so-good message."
"Well, you at least inspired them," Watts said, "so, let's just hope that inspiration is enough to let them fly on their own."
"That's not how you talk about these young ponies!" Isobar said.
"What's going on?" Watts' mother asked from downstairs.
The two looked at each other, throwing away their angry expressions and rushing to the railing.
"Nothing!" Watts yelled. "We're just, uh, having our friendly shouting match!"
"Friendly shouting match?"
Isobar held Watts's shoulder. "What were you thinking?!" he whispered.
"What?!" Watts whispered back. "I was running out of ideas!" Then, he faced away and towards the first floor. "Uh, Mom! It's a new thing that we've made up! It, uh, brings us closer together as friends! Just like the Princess of Friendship would recommend!"
"We have the Journal of Friendship and that seems pretty out of place."
Watts gulped. "Twilight Sparkle and her friends learn something new about friendship everyday, right? It's one of those new things that haven't made it to the book in time!"
Silence.
Both of the stallions upstairs looked at each other. Watts was biting his lip, sweat going down his face.
"OK. That sounds weird, but if it's what the Princess of Friendship says, then that's what she says."
A few more seconds of silence between the two.
Then, both of them let out a "Phew!"
Watts Onion jumped to his bed and lay there, face up. He let out a sigh of relief.
"We don't have to worry about shouting at each other now, I guess," Isobar said, returning his angry face though not to its fullest extent. "But, my point still stands. You have to wait for me to have some free time in my hooves before I can really help you."
"What if I just tell Princess Luna about, hm, insubordination?"
"You haven't sent a letter to Princess Luna about it, so you've already lost that opportunity."
Watts sighed. "Help me out here, Isobar!"
"Looks like I'm staying here for some time, huh?"
Isobar let out a sigh of annoyance.
"So, Electric Arc," the father said as he resided at the table, holding a guitar though not playing it, "what was that all about?"
The mother sat down beside him. "Lacrimal, I think Watts is getting too excited about his royal orders from Princess Luna."
"What makes you think that?"
Electric Arc giggled a little. "Who thinks there's 'friendly shouting matches'? I don't think the Princess of Friendship would approve of such a thing, anyway."
Lacrimal placed a hoof on his head as he rested his shoulder on the table. "Give him some time. I'm sure he will simmer off."