Society as We Know It

by Comma Typer


Joe and Radar

Minuette, Twinkleshine, and Lemon Hearts, all wearing festive clothes such as scarves and sweaters and boots—that group of mares—walked into the donut place which still smelled of sweet sugar being glazed on to the donuts on the conveyor belt over there. Ponies still occupied the usual chairs and tables, the checkered floor had not changed—but, the windows did not bring in the dousing of sunlight it had in warmer times. Instead, there was just a bit more light—purple or blue light, to be exact, for the sky was not only overcast, it was also getting even darker. However, that was OK since the lights hanging from above were turned on, turning the eatery into an early nightlife center with donuts.
Minuette poked Twinkleshine and then pointed at the counter. "Uh, is that...Fancy Pants?"
Fancy Pants—in his fancy black suit with bowtie—was serving the line of customers with a few rich laughs before sending one off.
"It is!" Twinkleshine expressed. "Why would Fancy Pants, of all ponies, be in Joe's place today? In fact—" she raised a hoof "—where is Joe?"


Joe groaned, resisting the urge to shiver or clatter his teeth since he was under jackets upon jackets of warmth. His white uniform and his small hat were still there, though. On his face was, then, a smile—a wide one, almost too wide—as he looked at the changeling swarm upon his donut cart.
The snow around the hive had gotten thicker—it was half-way to the knees at its deepest. Overhead, a few pegasi were bringing more and more clouds, pushing them into one big lump of gray clouds that further darkened the sky.
The changelings—more varied in color now because of their many clothes—had no line to speak of. They were all around the cart—the many were at the front, some were at the sides, a few were waiting at the back trying to chat with Joe to no avail. There was even a changeling sitting on the roof of the cart—he went on to dance around, garnering the attention of most of the changeling herd.
And Joe sighed. "Finally, some rest!"
His horn glowed and levitated the mass of bits down to a counter in front of him. The cart shook and jolted, but Joe managed to hold it in place with a firm grip. He looked up, hearing the loud tapping of the changeling dancing above.
"Better than not knowing when they're gonna stop," he muttered.
He looked under the counter and saw his inventory of donuts—or, lack thereof. All the racks were empty, the only items of note still there being the labels and the price tags for donuts that were not present.
"I should've known," he said. Eyeing a locked cabinet: "Good thing they didn't detect this."
He jangled the lock with his magic.
It didn't come off.
"Still in perfect condition." He smirked as he lifted his head to see what was going on now.
The changeling swarm erupted into cheers and stomping of the ground, all looking up on the dancing changeling that Joe could not yet see.


It was night when Joe reached Dodge Junction.
The dusty, sandy ground under him, he saw the few ponies—all wearing country hats—walking about on the unpaved pathways. The vibrant buildings were all under the night's blue tint, their windows glittering the soft moonlight.
Joe detached himself from his donut cart, removed from himself all the extra clothes wearing down on him, and sat on a bench at the train station.
And sighed.
Minutes passed by with no words nor any unusual sounds. Only hoofsteps, wheels grinding, and some chatter or conversation muffled and obscured by both distance and walls. A slam, another slam, a shout—but, nothing much came of it, for all became quiet after that.
Joe looked at the right.
No train.
He looked at the left.
No train.
"Want a hat?" a gruff voice asked.
"Thank you, sir," Joe began, turning to see him, "but, I already—"
And he only blinked at the hat-wearing changeling carrying a box of country hats of different colors—there was even a hat sporting four colors at once. He brought the box forward. "You need a big hat. It will help cover you from the sand."
"The sand comes from the ground, not from the sky," Joe said.
"You can't say for sure around these parts," the changeling said, still imitating a gruff voice. "I've seen sandstorms suddenly spring up without notice—endangering all the land."
"That's because somepony probably kicked up some dust without you knowing it," Joe said. "And, no, I don't want a hat."
"Alrighty, then."
Then, the changeling sat down on the bench, sitting beside the pony.
The pony eyed the changeling with a suspicious look.
The changeling just looked on at the rows of colorful buildings, looking on at peaceful Dodge Junction at night.
An owl hooted.
"Wait a minute," Joe said, raising his head, "owls don't live in the desert."
"That's my owl," the changeling said. "I own an owl. He lives on the rooftops, on the chimneys."
Joe looked at him square in the eye. "What's his name?"
"Yeast."
"Why 'Yeast'?"
"I ran out of ideas." The changeling shrugged. "So, I read a dictionary and picked a random word. I came up with 'Yeast' and my owl's 'Yeast' because of that."
"Huh." Joe slouched on the bench.
A minute passed by as the two gazed upon Dodge Junction—a window went off, and so did another one, slowly bringing Dodge Junction to a darker night.
"What's your name?" Joe finally asked.
"Radar," he said. "I bet you have those in the works."
"What?"
"I got myself that name because I wanted to make myself sound cool," he said, pointing to himself before putting down his large hat on the bench. "Checked the archives, checked what new thing those researchers in Canterlot are researching on—and, it's a radar."
Joe remained silent.
"You know—I think they paraded it around one time and I was there. It looks a grill and then there's a vent in front of it and then it goes around and it spins and it makes me dizzy. Then, without looking up, the ponies with the screen were able to tell who's flying up there—can even tell how fast exactly and they can tell you where, too."
"I think I was away when that happened," Joe said, rubbing his head. "But...there we go. I don't see the immediate uses for a...radar?"
"Me, too. Will it catch on?"
"I have no idea, Radar." Joe said. "I have no idea."
Then came along the whistling of a train.


His eyes half-open, a yawn coming out from him as he stretched his forelegs out to the window—even pushing the window a little outward. Then, smacking his lips, he rested his head on the window.
He saw the capped All Aboard walking down the aisle.
Joe raised his hoof. "Mister? May I...know where we're going?"
"Ponyville," the bearded pony said. He took out his watch and opened it. "We'll be on schedule."
"And...what's the schedule?"
"We'll be there by 11:30 tonight," he said as he clsoed his watch.
"Thanks."
All Aboard walked away.
"That late?" Joe said. "I won't be able to make it back to Canterlot in time—with enough sleep. At least I have some caffeine."
And then, he pulled out a donut that smelled of coffee and took a bite of it. Munching on it, he looked out the window.
"It does taste delicious, after all," Joe said, smiling. "Maybe I am on to something. Probably give the changelings who don't know what coffee tastes like..."
He trailed off.
"And they'll taste it for the first time."
As the train moved on, its wheels rapidly turning, he looked up to the moon and the stars.
"For the first time..."
A smile, his eyes glittering the soft moonlight.