~ IV ~
Of Stand-Ups & Put-Downs
"You going to tell a joke or what?"
Spike shook his head, blinking for good effect. "What?"
"You're doing stand up, right?" The cop sat in the space of the lobby, a doughnut suspended before his muzzle in an aquamarine aurora, because stereotypes and cliches are allowed to be synonymous. "Usually the comedian tells jokes in these cases. They're the only cases I like working."
"Right. So that's how this works." Spike went to tell a joke, realized that he had none, then raised his index claw/finger/talon. "One second." He blinked and smiled. "Feel free to help yourself to a second donut."
Spike left the pretend stage.
"Hey, we got a bit of an issue,” Spike began as he approached the leftmost wall, earning the gazes of the three ponies close to it. He kept his voice at a whisper. “I have absolutely no jokes to tell, and even if I did, I’m horribly unfunny, so we would be screwed either way.”
"I swear I’ve just about had it with you!" Silver spat at him. No, seriously, he spat at the drake as he spoke. "Suggesting to the cop we’re hosting a stand-up of all things?! This whole mess is your fault for not suggesting something more likely, or at the very least, believable.”
"Right," Spike said, rolling his eyes. "So, you’ve had some time to think about it, right? What scenario would you have suggested to cover up daylight robbery?”
Silver opened his mouth but did not speak, the question repeating in his head, and only a moment afterward did he pick up on the sarcasm. “Silent with you!”
"Either way," began Cookie as he stepped between the two, glancing at both of their faces, “if the dragon doesn’t go on, then the jig is up! All you said was that you were putting on a show, but that doesn’t mean it has to be good show.”
"Do I have too?” Spike asked with a heavy sigh. “I'm already cringy enough, and getting laughed at on stage is a recurring nightmare of mine."
"Don't care,” said Silver, “get up."
"Seriously, I can’t do it guys!" Spike rose his claws in surrender as he stepped back. "Ponies will laugh at how stupid I am. I-I can already see them whispering! ‘That’s a dragon? But he’s so tiny!’ Or they will say: ‘Look at the belly on him! Is even trying to shed the last of his baby fat?’ Or how about: ‘Is he trying to be funny? This dragon is a loser. Someone get him off stage!’”
"I’m sure the world already thinks you're an idiot," Silver said, stepping forward and placing his hooves on the drake’s shoulders, turning him around and shoving him a few feet back onto the stage. “So hurry up and prove to the world that you are indeed a fool! You can wallow in self-pity all you wish afterward.”
Spike stumbled back onto the stage, earning the attention of the cop once again. Of course, in his hoof was another donut, because running gags were easy to maintain, unlike the cop’s new-year resolution to jog every morning.
There was no winning the situation. At the right of the room, two unicorns at their horns pointed at Pinkie, and if Spike did not make a fool of himself, then she would be hurt on his behalf. In front of him, there was a cop looking for a laugh, and if he made a fool of himself, then the cop would be laughing at him—something the drake has recurring nightmares about.
With a great sigh and reluctance, Spike began to speak.
"So birds, am I right?"
Thus began the comedic career of Spike the Dragon.
"They just fly, not paying anypony any mind!" Spike nervously laughed, remembering an old comic making the joke before. "Like, c'mon! I'm walking here!" There was no laughter except the chuckles Spike had at himself. His emulation of someone better, the one card up his non-existent sleeve, was a failure indeed.
'This isn’t working. This isn’t working!’ Spike thought to himself, wiping the sweat from his neck. ‘There must be someone who’s funny that I can steal from. Someone with great lines, a great personality I can piggy-back off.’
Spike said the first thing that came to mind.
"Books are pain, aren’t they? Especially when they’re littered all over the floor."
Spike would have slapped himself for his stupidity were it not for fear of scaring away his present audience. He then realized what he found funny about other ponies was not material in of itself.
The cop shifted in his spot, body twitching at just how uncomfortable the atmosphere was. He went to rise, doing so slowly to grant the time needed to formulate a reason to leave, one which would not too badly hurt the feelings of those present.
'I have to stop him! C’mon, there’s gotta be something I can do to keep him here while keeping Pinkie safe.’ Spike clenched his fists and closed his eyes, slowing the rhythm of his breaths. 'Trying to emulate popular ponies won’t get me anywhere, neither will saying whatever comes to my mind. Yet, for whatever reason, I’m terrified of this stranger thinking that I’m an idiot, that I want to do everything in my power to prove otherwise!’
He shook his head and opened his eyes. The cop now stood.
'What is wrong with you!' Spike thought to himself, opening his eyes to a blurry looby. 'Your friend is getting robbed, but you care more about what strangers think of you? And for what? To keep silent so no one thinks your silly? Tell me, Spike, do you even care what this cop thinks of you?’
His vision of the lobby cleared, the first detail to do so was the cop opening his mouth.
'This is a pony you'll never meet again, someone who will take one look at you and then never think of you again. You're sacrificing the quality of your life for one bad moment with a stranger?' Spike opened his mouth, exhaling through it. ‘Now if it were Rainbow Dash, then you would be more worried. Why? Because you actually cared about her, but for whatever reason, you cared more about what she thought about you, and you broke up with her because of it! Even when you were an absolute clown, do you remember what she said?’
"Listen, this has been great and all, and I really do hope your show goes—"
"Do you know weird it is as a dragon living in pony society?" Spike said out of nowhere, surprising both himself and the cop he’d interrupted. The latter closed his mouth, expression confused. "Isn’t it strange that weird comes to mind instead of scary? That having a dragon, claws and everything, is an average sight for this town? How crazy is that!?”
The cop kept still. One of his eyebrows were raised.
"You’d expect that dragon to be scorned, or at the very least, treated differently, right?” Spike began to pace back and forth on the stage. "Ponies shunning you from shops because of your scales, not trusting you with kids because of your fangs. I expected to be treated horribly by ponies, if not differently."
The cop tilted his head.
"But you ponies took it on the chin! Not once have I been purposefully discriminated because of my scales." Spike chuckled into his imagery mic, glancing downward. "Do you know how ballsy that is? To grown accustomed to having a dragon in your midst?"
The cop did not answer, though his ears stood.
"If we had one your foreign ponies come aboard, we'd be hearing a totally different story. That guy would spot me in a crowd." Spike cleared his throat, then gave a more high-pitched voice. "AAAAH! There is a dragon in our midst! Everypony get down!"
Spike chuckled, then hopped to the left. He talked in a deeper voice. "Easy Pancakes. He's just a dragon."
Spike hopped right and spoke light. "Just a dragon? Guy, that motherfucker spews fire! I've seen too many remains of burnt villages to know we should evacuate."
Spike hopped left and spoke in a voice that's deep and somehow rhythms with left. "Chill before he hears you. The boy is a bit sensitive, you know?"
"Sensitive?" Spike said highly, not of himself but in his voice. "He's a dragon! His scales are thicker than rocks!"
"See, that's usually the case, but our boy is a bit...emotional," he said lowly, both of himself and in his voice. "And he does breathe fire. But don't be alarm! It's only to send letters to a Princess."
"What?"
"Yup."
"How does burning letter send it to a Princess. Wait, you mean Princess Celestia herself?!"
"Mmmhmm. He's got some magical fire."
"I'm...not sure what to think."
"Trust me; it gets stranger." Spike chuckled, seeing a few ponies standing by the doors of the lobby. He had no clue when they amassed. "Some regard him as the son of the Princess, though those rumors are unconfirmed! What is true is that he's the best and life-long friend of the Princess of Magic."
"Who...who is this dragon?"
Spike jumped forward, interrupting his own narrative. "Me boy-oh!" He laughed. "I'll just rob that pony then and there while they'll be still afraid, or just relish in the validation of ponies considering me as scary as the rest of my kind."
...
"..."
...
"..."
...
"Never thought I'd see a dragon do stand up," One pony said to another, behind a row of sitting ponies. "It's a once in a lifetime experience, y'know? They should have advertised that better, if at all. Not only that, but free food!" He took a chunk of his muffin.
Cookie and Silver were not happy about the happy, muffin eating ponies. They watched the show in dismay.
"Not only that, but what kind of name is Spike the Dragon?" Spike sat on a stool, having pulled one up during his last joke. "Dragons are terrifying! Their names alone are meant to spook you!" Spike chuckled. "Knowing Twilight, she probably took that proclamation literally and made my name spooky, and along the way, somepony just messed up with a typo."
The audience laughed. This made Spike feel better for three reasons. One, these were the thoughts he thought he would have to pay a therapist to hear. Second, these ponies were laughing with him at things that cause him angst late at night. Three, it showed that being honest about his idiotic wasn't such a big deal—something that he shouldn't have cared so much about.
"Tell me," Spike held the imaginary mic to a pegasus sitting in the front row, "and be honest: does Spike the Dragon strike fear into your heart? Even if you didn't know me, would it evoke the image of a ferocious dragon?"
The pegasus laughed nervously, finding it hard to speak.
"Don't sweat all the strange glances—I get 'em all the time.' Spike held his claw closer. "Just be honest with what you feel. I promise I won't laugh."
The pegasus chuckled. "I-I think of an a-action figure, to be honest."
Spike laughed. The pegasus gulped.
"Don't worry, I ain't laughing at you," he stepped back into his stage. "In fact, I'm laughing at myself more than anything. I also like you gave me the leeway of being an action figure, something strong and cool, and, if we're being honest: I am neither of those two things."
Spike laughed.
The audience laughed.
More importantly, Pinkie laughed.
"If we are truly honest about how I'm viewed among your ponies, the image of a doll is what comes up the most." Spike's shoulders shook and he stepped back. "I am as fragile and pretty as one. Not only that, but a walking doll would probably get less strange looks and questions that I do!"
Spike looked over to Pinkie. He was glad that she was enjoying the show, even more so when Cooke was as well. Cookie’s gaze lingered on him, cheering and chuckle when promoted, and Silver was too busy staring at the stolen food being stolen from them and the cop that had yet to leave. There was three of them now and zero donuts—but the latter was due to the larger quantity of guests that stereotypes this time around.
"I always get chastised whenever I enter the post office, and to be square with you, I do not like the post office." Spike threw up his claws. "I would rather unicorns let me make a magical bond with their horns, something, which, I swear is not sexual! So that I can burn some stuff and send it their way."
There were only a few chuckles.
"Oh c'mon, if could breathe fire like I do you would be the same," Spike said. "My ideal afternoon is burning some letters and reading comic books in the sun, not waiting in long lines so some pony can give me attitude."
That got a few more laughs.
"Don't get me wrong; I don't go in there to start trouble!" Spike said, standing in place, looking around at nothing. "I don't make a note of my power nor the fact that I am a dragon, even that I'm the Princess assistant! I pull none of those cards; I wait in line like everypony else."
There was clapping. Spike was glad it wasn't just Pinkie trying to save him from a bad joke.
"But, of course, like everything in my life, nothing is my fault!" Spike laughed harder at that one than he should, feeling the lie prick his heart. "I make it to the counter, like can I get my package. Every single time, they think I'm talking dirty, make a huff, and throw some papers down on the counter."
More ponies filled in, reaching the point that some had to watch the show from outside.
"Naturally, as a dragon among ponies, things are going to be weird when it comes to bureaucracy. Just the way how it is." He made a note to speak louder. "Does the 'pony' consent to having pick up this package? I'm not going to argue for that to be changed, because the meaning is still the same. I don't make trouble over that."
Spike looked at Pinkie and inched his head right. She blinked, recoiling her head until she saw her captors settled on other things. She pressed her back against the wall, slowly sliding along, her action going unnoticed.
"What I have an issue is trying to describe myself on the forum." Spike held an invisible sheet and began writing. "Male or female? A male, I hope. Earth pony, pegasus, or unicorn? How about other?" He looked up and made an angry voice.
"I knew you were going to give us trouble!" He imitated the clerk. "Thinking just because you're different that everything should be tailored to you! Quit holding up the line!"
He chuckled. "Alright, buddy. If that's the case, what should I write down?"
Pinkie slid from the wall and into the audience, keeping low in-between the rows. No one had seen her escape.
"That goes down for a bit, and then I'm allowed to use other." Spike stepped forward. "Be real now; if I were a doll, the clerk would've called me sweet and completed my forum for me. 'Spike the Dragon? My my, you are a dragon aren't you?"
Spike stepped back. "But when I do it?" He changed his voice. "Who do you think you are, thinking your middle names deserves to be The? You aren't anything special, get over yourself."
Meanwhile, Pinkie tugged on the collar of a cop. He looked down, scared to see a mare between his legs, but was happy to see her lips coming to his ear instead. "See those two ponies off by the wall. They're actually super mean robbers, and we had to host this show so you wouldn't catch on. If it isn't too much work, do you think you could arrest them?"
The cop raised an eyebrow. He looked then at Spike, and tilted his head left.
Spike gulped. "Heck, the clerk looked like I was about to rob the place."
That settled that. The cops all rose, the powder of donuts sliding down their outfits (I lied, it was totally the cops that ate the donuts), and went over to Cookie and Silver. They didn't say anything, just pulled out their batons and whacked them over the heads. The two fell, had a ring placed on their horns, and cuffs around their hooves.
"What is going on here!" shouted a voiced from the crowd. Pinkie had made it to the stage, and both she and Spike looked to the two ponies cutting through the crowd.
It was Mr and Ms. Cake.
"Daytime robbery, cakes!" Pinkie said with glee. "We put on a stand-up show to cover the crime though."
The Cakes thought about this, then remembered this was Pinkie, and ceased trying to pull reason from the illogical. All they saw was a bunch of ponies, some having food and some not, and did what entrepreneurs do best.
Sell stuff.
"Alright everypony, that's enough for me." Spike exhaled heavily, happy the show was now over. "It's been a blast being your host, I trust I did not ramble for too long, and I hope you buy your lunch here to help the ponies that let us host this show. Everything on this menu is good, trust me—" he padded what was left of his fat "—you do not get as big I once was by not trying it all. Good afternoon!"
He and Pinkie did a bow, received a few claps and cheers, and then promptly walked off stage—through the kitchen and outside. The room had gotten warm and stuffy, so the cool wind was a welcome respite, and they both fell to their rumps and rested their backs against the wall.
"That," Spike began, "was the craziest and stupidest thing I've ever done." He looked over to Pinkie, placing his claw on her hoof. "I'm sorry I couldn't do anything sooner. How's your head?"
Pinkie smiled. "Better now. I laughed so much that I kinda forgot about it."
"Really?" Spike said, excitement catching in his voice. "You enjoyed it?"
"Of course I did, silly!" She lifted her other hoof and rubbed it against his scalp. "I wouldn't laugh if I didn't enjoy it. I had no clue those were the type of thoughts running through your head.” She retracted her hoof only to throw both of them in the air. "You should have shared them sooner!"
“Huh,” Spike chuckled, looking downward. "I always thought...I dunno, that you girls would find that kind of stuff boring, or think I’m just plain weird.”
Pinkie tilted her head. "What wrong with being weird?"
Spike opened his mouth to speak, to bash himself for the weirdness and absurdity of his life, but when he looked upon Pinkie, any words of the such failed him. Why did he hate himself for having these weird thoughts? For not being normal like everypony else?
"Nothing." Spike began to laugh at the realization, looking deep into her eyes. "There's nothing wrong with being weird! Even if some ponies don’t like it, they don’t compare to the ones that do.” He shook his head and clenched his eyes shut. “Deep down, we should be honest with who we are, even if…”
'Most ponies would become pricks or perverts if they stopped caring,' the words of Rainbow echoed in his head. 'Not caring doesn't make you anything more, it just reveals who you really are. And that's the you I like the most.'
"...that someone is weird!" Spike continued the thought at last, more so for himself than Pinkie. "And who knows? Maybe underneath it all, some ponies are just as weird as you are, and that lets you connect better with them, y’know?”
Pinkie kept silent, merely listening and enjoying the breeze. Both laid their heads against the wall.
"Rainbow was right,” Spike said after a moment, her name a heavy weight on his tongue. “At least, the part about accepting yourself.” He sighed, placing a claw over his heart. “Just glad we're having as much fun as she is."
"Fun?" Pinke repeated the with surprise, looking over at him. "Rainbow Dash?"
Spike turned his head as well. "Well...yeah? You told me she bought enough sweets to host a party!"
Pinkie face-hoofed. It hurt less than the cash register. "Oh, you silly little boy...of course she’s not throwing a party!”
"She’s...not?"
"No!" Pinkie threw up her hooves. "She came crying to me right after your break-up! She pulled me from the bed, forced me to make chocolate milkshakes at midnight, and made me listen to her as she ate enough food to feed a party. She was devastated!"
Spike let the words echo in his mind. Once again, there was another mare he hurt, one that he had hurt, only because he cared too much this time around. In his head, he wished the other scenario was the case, which his choice didn't hurt her and she was throwing a party in celebration. But deep inside his heart, he was sad to admit, a part of him was happy that she was suffering the same pain as he.
But, no matter the sensation, he had made the right choice in making her life better.
Or, at least, that would be the case were it not that Rainbow was missing because of him, and that her dream-job would expire in less than ten hours.
Spike went to speak, but felt hooves press against his throat, and raise his body up against the wall.
"SURPRISE!."
...
"…"
...
"..." Pause. "Oh yeah, that's right."
...
"Surprise!," said an earth pony, pressing harder on the scaly throat. "Thought that Nato wouldn't find ya out? We're a trio, baby!"
Spike tried made a joke only to croak. He'd forgotten, like everyone else, he still needed to breathe. Not just that, but if his first instinct was to breathe fire than to quip, then he could have made it out of this.
Pinkie rose, turning on her hind legs.
"Try it, missy." Nato pressed his forehooves harder, making Spike cry in a strained in a choke, "and your pal is dead."
Pinkie kept still. She did not like it when her friends were dead.
"So how about it, where're my brothers?" Nato asked, releasing some of the pressure on Spike.
This allowed Spike to breathe, and it also gave him a few options. He could prove Silver wrong and be a drake of action, knocking this pony out and saving the day of his own volition. He clenched his claw, ready to risk a punch, but something a thought stopped him.
'You're full of shit,' Silver words echoed in his head. 'Always have and always will be. No matter what you say, no matter what you think or try, deep down inside, you'll always be full of shit. It's why those girls of yours, why I will always be better than you.'
And, if Spike was honest with himself—something he now learned to do—then Silver was right. He was full of shit, and his every word was bullshit. It was just a fact of life, and like it or not, that's the way Spike would always be.
But being full of shit doesn't have to be a bad thing.
"They're i-inside!" Spike gasped out. "W-We've been moving furniture f-for most of the day. We held an auction for most of the day, w-we're just taking our lunch breaks before going inside." More pressure was pressed against his throat, but Spike did not cease in his lie. "H-honest!"
Nato glared at Pinkie. She nodded.
Nato closed an eye and thought. He kept choking Spike out of habit, but after a few moments, and let him fall to the floor. "Good work, then. Better see my buddies and see if they need a hoof." He looked at the door. "You said they were inside?"
Spike nodded, using a claw to open the door, and another the rub at his throat. The moment Nato stepped inside, both Pinkie and Spike shouted from the doorway. "This one as well!"
They slammed the door before Nato could turn around. A moment later, the sounds of a pony being tackled to the ground were heard, and all was good in Ponyville once again.
Spike dusted off his claws, sighed, then looked to Pinkie. "So Rainbow Dash, she's as heartbroken as I am?"
Pinkie nodded. "Pretty sure. Why?"
Spike cracked his neck, turning to the street past the alley they were in. "I really didn't feel like leaving the library for another week, longer to even think about seeing Rainbow Dash again. I thought if she was taking this better than I was, then she wouldn't need my help." He stretched out his back. "But if she's actually hurt, then I can't just go back and hide away in my room after this."
He turned around, facing Pinkie. "I'm going to take the lead on the investigation. Can you tell me what happened with Dash afterward?"
“We spent the night talking about you, mostly,” Pinkie said with a giggle. “From how you were a dummy but you were her dummy. That if you stopped thinking so much, you would act more. Rainbow’s a lot more sensitive than she lets on, so we sorta talked about her feelings to the rest of the night.”
Pinkie stepped forward, glaring into the drake’s eyes. “You really did hurt Dashie, Spike.”
Spike studied her expression for a moment, letting his head dip in shame. “I know.”
“I don’t like it when my friends get hurt,” Pinkie said, lifting his chin with her hoof. “I do mean things to those hurtful ponies, even dragons if I have to.”
“Then do what you gotta do, Pinkie,” Spike said, never breaking eye-contact with her stern gaze. “When I broke up with Rainbow, I truly thought it would be the best for both of us. I really didn’t mean for her to get hurt.”
“I know.” Pinkie’s gaze softened, and she threw her forehooves over his shoulder, hugging the drake. “It’s the only reason why I’m not kicking your scaly butt.” She squeezed him before pulling back. “But you owe her an apology, okay? Even if you were right and she was wrong, you need to say sorry to her, alright?”
“And if I do so, you’ll tell me where she went?”
Pinkie nodded.
“Then it’s a deal.” Spike closed the gap between them, embracing all the comfort he could steal from the pink mare. “Rainbow was right about me, that I can be who I am deep down inside. I’m not sure just how much she was right about, but she was on to something.” He sighed, pressing his face into her mane. “And I shouldn’t have put my insecurity before her faith. I plant to rectify that, one way or another.”
Pinkie giggled, rubbing the back of his head. “That’s all I need to hear.”
The hug ended a few moments later.
“Rainbow left early in the morning, something about having to cancel an order with Rarity.” Pinke turned to the streets. “Your best bet is to check there. She didn’t get any sleep with me, so maybe she crashed the day there.”
Spike groaned.
"Something wrong with that?"
"Kinda." Spike took a step toward the streets. "Rarity and I, uh, haven't been on the best terms since I got together with Rainbow. Now that she knows we're broken up for sure, there's no telling what's waiting for me when I go to the boutique."
"Are you not going to go, then?"
"No choice. Gotta find Rainbow.”
Spike turned around to smile at Pinkie, bowing. “This morning has been great fun, Pinkie.”
“Right back at you,” Pinkie returned with a bow of her own. “Take care of yourself, okay? Hopefully things work out well between you and Rainbow.”
And just like that, Spike continued his day of kinda caring, entering the streets of streaming ponies.
"Best of luck to you Spike, and here's hoping you get together." Pinkie giggled to herself, waving to him from the alley. "Oh, regardless if it works out or not, come back soon to do stand up again. We can even do tag-team!"
Spike waved back a claw and continued the search for his formal crush.
The streets were filled with the afternoon crowd.