//------------------------------// // Beginnings of a Wannabe Villain // Story: Passive Antagonism // by DrOcsid //------------------------------// Squeak. "Six." Squeak. "Seven." Squeak. "Eight." Squeak. "Nine-" "Do you have to do that window right now? I'm trying to talk to my neighbor here." Guy Pony, Canterlot's resident generically-named window washing earth pony, turned around, his squeegee still held firmly to the window he was just cleaning. "Ma'am, if you want streaks all over your front window, then by all means, I'll stop right now." Flora Heartfelt, local unicorn, respected nurse, and Guy's third client of the day, sighed. "Alright, but do you really have to count every single time you wipe?" "Well, I'll have you kn- I mean, actually, I d... Okay, fine, I guess I don't." Guy didn't appreciate being dictated on how he did his job, but nevertheless, he sucked it up and continued cleaning the window, as he always did whenever one of his customers had a complaint about how he did his job. Can't really build a career on being confrontational, you know? That was his basis of operation, after all. Somepony wanted something done, he got it done, no questions asked - as long as that thing was washing their windows. And Celestia help him, he was going to wash this window better than anypony else ever could. "Aaaaand that's the last one," Guy said as he finished his last wipe-down and tossed the squeegee into his bag. "Oh, and, by the way, you might wanna be careful with inviting any pegasi to your house for the next day or two. You know how birds do that thing where they crash into clean windows? Just... be wary." "Ah. Yes, thank you," said Flora, admiring how crystal-clear her windows looked. "You really have a talent for this, Guy." "Yeah, that's why I charge ten bits a window," said Guy, placing the last of his materials in his saddlebag. He eyed his reflection in the window for a moment, making sure his orange coat and blue mane were in the same fashion as always. He turned back around and walked up to Flora. "I've gotta say, I've worked on a lot of windows in my time, but that one was something special. I don't think I've ever cleaned a window that good before." "You really seem to have an odd fascination with windows." "Gotta take what you can get from an unfascinating world, you know?" Guy said, readjusting his saddlebag. "Anyway, as for the whole money thing..." "Right, of course," said Flora, opening her own saddlebag and levitating some bits out. "My house has sixteen windows, so that's 160." "Sixteen, plus that tiny basement window." "You found that? Does that even really count as a window?" "Eh, let's say one-fifth of one." "Alright, alright," she said, levitating a couple more bits out and placing them in his bag. "Does that cover it?" "Looks good to me," said Guy, closing his bag. "Glad to do business with you. And, hey, if you wanna recommend me to any of your friends, that'd be a huge help. Or don't. Your choice, really." "Oh, I will! Thanks again!" Flora said, heading back into her house. Guy managed to turn around and walk away for a solid ten seconds before he heard a huge crash from Flora's house. He snapped his head around to see a jagged, gaping hole where most of Flora's front window once was. Moments later, a yellow pegasus stood up into view inside the house, looking dazed. "Good heavens!" Guy heard Flora cry out. "That's the third time this year!" Guy let out a long, dejected sigh and kept walking. Guy had managed to extend his continuous walking record by about fifteen minutes by the time he was stopped again, this time by the closest thing he had to a lifetime friend, Tapped Spirit. That's not the name of a pony, mind you. Whenever Guy was feeling particularly dreary, Canterlot's local liquor store was always there to drain his wallet, and, more importantly, make him forget about his unending boredom. Guy strolled into the shop for probably the third time this month, walking up to the counter where a bell sat. Guy brought his hoof up and rang it, and almost instantly, a rather fluffy orange unicorn popped up from behind the counter. "Oh, hey, Guy! Didn't expect to see you back so soon!" "Hey, Mist. Yeah, I've had a rough week. Figured I'd drop by and get the usual stuff." "You know, you buy this specific set of alcohol so often that I've made a gift basket out of it," she said, levitating a gift-wrapped basket up onto the counter. "I call it the 'Guyft Basket'. Ain't that clever?" "...Yeah, that's a real hoot," said Guy. "Well, let me just get your stuff here... Let's see, a six-pack of Whinness Extra Stout..." "Have I ever told you how much I hate that name?" "A bottle of Shuavignel Havinstas red wine..." "I swear, you sound like you're having a stroke every time you try to say that." "And finally, a bottle of Sweet Apple Acres' Hard Cider." "Can't believe they actually make alcohol that tastes good now. That stuff's dangerous." "Y'know, Guy, as much as I appreciate the business," said Mist, placing the various alcohols into a bag, "you're starting to look like a real alcoholic. Something getting to you?" "No, no," said Guy, waving his hoof reassuringly. "Everything's fine. Same as always." "Right. Same old boring Guy." "Hey, I'm not boring!" Guy shot back. "I'm just... bored." "Sounds like the same thing to me. Why not do something to occupy yourself? Go do something fun! Hang out with friends! Get a haircut! Anything other than slowly killing your liver." "I'd consider hanging out with friends if I could think of anything to do that sounded appealing. And- Wait, a haircut? What's wrong with my hair?!" "Nothing, nothing!" said Mist, laughing to herself. "It is getting a bit long, though. You'd look more professional if you got it cut shorter." "Why would I want to look professional?" "I don't know, your job?" "What, so I can waste my life in style?" Mist shrugged. "Do you not like your job?" "I don't think I could be more ambivalent about anything in the world." "Well, then, why not do something else?" "Because it pays the bills. That, and it's the only thing I'm really good at. It's my cutie mark, after all. It's not like I have much choice in the matter." "Well, Guy, being a negative ninny the whole time ain't gonna solve any of your problems. If you don't wanna be bored all the time, go find something to do! I'm sure you'll find something if you're willing to, you know, actually try to." "Calling me a 'negative ninny' isn't going to solve my problems either," said Guy as he shoved the bag into his saddlebag. Mist scratched her neck. "Sorry, I guess that wasn't really helpful. I just mean there's a whole wide world out there, and you can't see much of it from here. Well, other than the view that comes from this place being on a mountain, anyway." "Yeah, I guess so," said Guy, placing the bag into his saddlebag. "By the way, do you have a copy of today's newspaper?" "Sure do," said Mist, rummaging under the counter for a second before slapping the paper down on the counter. "No news about Twilight and her friends, if that's what you're wondering." "That's a shame. Haven't seen anything about them since Twilight's house got blown up. Hope they're doing well." "I still don't get your fascination with them, you know." "What's not to get? Ponies can be fans of other ponies. Like you with that actor." "That's different, though! Cruise is so handsome, and so good at what he does..." "Yeah, well, Twilight and her friends have saved this entire friggin' kingdom countless times! What has Cruise Motley saved, other than a bunch of mediocre movies?" "Okay, okay, I get your point. See, there's an idea, though. You're a fan of them, right? They just live down in Ponyville. Why not go down and meet them yourself? Anything to get you out and about." "Well, I've actually been thinking of doing that for a while. I just... haven't done it." "Why not?" "I don't know, it's just... you know what they say. Don't meet your heroes. Plus I've never been sure if a vacation is the right thing for me, you know?" "A vacation can be great for anypony, Guy. You just gotta make sure you're enjoying it! Do something you've always wanted to do, you know?" "I guess you're right, yeah. But, uh, anyway, I've gotta get home soon. I think I left my fireplace on this morning. There's a good chance I'll get some excitement from my house being reduced to ashes." "Well, whatever you say, Guy," said Mist. "Have a good day!" Once Guy had left the shop, he managed to make it a good five feet before he was stopped yet again, this time by an actual pony - Trot Parsley, Guy's closest thing to what you'd call a "best friend". "Hey, Guy!" he said, running up to Guy and brushing his own noticeably long mane out of his face. "How you doing? I haven't seen you around in, like, a week." "Yeah, sorry," said Guy, trying to hide his annoyance at being stopped. "I've had an interesting last few days. Oh, wait, no I haven't." "Well, I can solve that for you, if you want. Jane and I are gonna go see a play in a bit. We'd be more than happy to have you come along too!" "Thanks, but I'm feeling pretty tired today," said Guy, looking anxiously back in the direction of his house. "I think I'm just gonna head home and... do... something." "Alright, that's cool, dude. I gotta ask, though, are you doing okay?" "Yes, of course! I'm fine! Why does everypony keep asking me that?" "Well, you know, it's just that it seems like you're getting more and more dreary every day. I mean, don't get me wrong, you were never the shiniest ray of sun, but you were still happy to do stuff with us. Played great pranks, too." Guy shifted a bit uncomfortably. "I don't know. I guess I still feel like I messed everything up pretty bad." Trot tilted his head curiously. "What, you mean with your last prank? I mean, yeah, it kinda went too far, but nothing the town couldn't fix. I don't see why you couldn't do more stuff that really aligns with your classics. Maybe swap someone's salt and sugar." "But everyone here's wise to it now," said Guy. "Heck, at this point, even when something isn't my fault, I'm considered a probable cause. I'm kind of railroaded into a rut here." "Tell me about it. Nowadays all it seems you do is stay at home and complain about how boring your life is." "Well, my life is boring!" "Then why not do something about it?" "Because I don't know what to do, okay? I've gotten tired of everything there is to do in this Celestia-forsaken city." "...I don't know if 'Celestia-forsaken' is really the right wording for Canterlot of all places." "That's besides the point! It's just... this town, man. Maybe I need to get out of this place, see more interesting things." "Hey, if it gets you out of this rut, I'm all for it," said Trot, gazing at the sky for a moment. "With how much you charge for your window-washing, I'm sure you can afford it. Then again, some days I wonder if you can't afford a haircut with that mane you've got going on there." "Oh, come on, my hair's fine!" "Well, whatever you like, man. I'm just saying, get a few inches off, it'd look a heck of a lot better." Guy sighed. "Yeah, maybe." "Well, I've gotta head back, the movie's starting soon and Jane'll kill me if she misses any of it 'cause of me. Don't be a stranger, Guy!" "I'll try," Guy said in reply as he resumed his trek back to his house. Much to his relief, Guy managed to reach his thankfully flameless abode without being stopped by anypony else. After fiddling with his keys for a bit – he still didn't understand how anyone other than a unicorn was able to use these things frustration-free – he got the door open and stepped into his house, shutting the door behind him and plopping himself onto his couch. He let out a long sigh, glad to finally be alone. Despite his lack of company, however, Guy wasn't fully relaxed. The entire rest of the walk home, he had Trot's advice banging around the inside of his head, slowly but surely managing to sound more and more appealing to him. Maybe that really was what he needed. A vacation, of sorts. What harm could it possibly do, he thought? But still, that leaves a bunch of other questions. Where would he go? What would he do? Why weren't there any more questions he can think of? Guy got up from his couch to better his thinking process, which he accomplished by walking in circles in the middle of his living room. This was a common habit of Guy, so common in fact that there was a noticeable ring worn into his carpet, built up from years of thinking about Celestia knows how many topics. "Let's see," Guy said to no one in particular, "I'd want to go somewhere that's quiet. Someplace I can stay for a while and just relax. Not a big city like this, or, Celestia forbid, Manehattan." Guy shuddered momentarily before continuing his train of thought. "Still, though, while relaxing is definitely nice, I'd still want to be able to do something. Something fun. Something I haven't done before. But what?" Guy continued pacing for a moment, before stopping. "Dang it, why can't I think of things I don't know about?!" He brought his hoof up to his chin, like it would somehow help him think better, and considered all the things in his life he'd ever thought seemed fun. Riding a rollercoaster, going camping, those were fun and all, but he wanted a new experience. Something alien to him, something that would be a huge departure from his current life. But for the life of him, he couldn't think of anything. Nothing crossed his mind that really struck him as something he hadn't done, but would really change his life if he did - short of robbing a bank, or something like that. "Robbing a bank...?" said Guy, almost seriously considering the concept before shrugging it off with a laugh. "Jeez, imagine that. I'd be in prison for years." Guy ultimately gave up on thinking about what he'd do wherever he went, instead saving the question for later and shifting to a different one - namely, what would he ultimately get out of this? "Once I come back from wherever I go, I'll be stuck in my old life again," he thought to himself. "I want this to be a life-changing experience, darn it!" He said, turning around and gazing at himself in a mirror. "I wanna come outta this with a brand new worldview, and also maybe a better hairstyle." Staring at his reflection for a few seconds more, he started fiddling around with his hair a bit. "Hm. I hear there's a great barber over in Ponyville-" And with that thought entering his mind, he stopped. Every factor he'd just considered - the place, what he'd want to do there, how he'd want it to be a lasting experience - all suddenly came together, representing one and only one true answer to his problems. "Oh, screw it!" Guy shouted, turning away from the mirror with an uncharacteristically determined expression on his face. "I'm going to Ponyville!"