//------------------------------//
// Why Do I Embrace the Chaos? 
// Story: Much Sense the Starkest Madness 
// by Comma Typer 
//------------------------------//

“I handed the job back to Line Drop. Went back outside, back to Ponyville. There’s Twilight’s doing panicky damage control ‘cause of a runaway centipede. Went to the lodge, met my friends again. Talked a good deal before we slept. People love survivor stories that way.

“Next day, got myself a job at town hall, assistant to an assistant’s assistant in handling Ponyville’s legal stuff with inter-dimensional travel… and the rest is history.” I point to myself, show my clean teeth.

I push my glass very far away. I was done.

Clean Desk looks up at me with those wide eyes. His breath is officially away. “Wow… I… uh, that was—“

“Encouraging?”

Desk looks down at his hooves. Slowly nods. “Y-yeah. I’ll… I’ll try to, um, bounce back—“

“And don’t be afraid to make mistakes,” I add, raising my finger. Having a hard time keeping it up. “You know… all those friendship lesson stuff you tell each other. That too.” I did read that Friendship Journal. Ponies have a habit of being telly with morals.

Desk nods and now he nods off. Sleepy eyes?

He drops asleep on the counter. Drool spills from his mouth. Alcohol-stinking breath. Empty glass filled more than five times.

Let him rest. Let the poor pony rest. It’s Saturday tomorrow. Monday’s far away.

I pat him on the back. Lean in to his ear. “You’ll do a good job out here. Promise me you’ll knock ‘em dead, ay?”

“Uh, should I call a taxi?”

I look up. Mr. Noble Grain, the man of nuisance. Now with more sweat on his bald head. Mr. Noble “I don’t want anyone to die while I’m here” Grain.

“Eh, can you ask him where he lives?” I ask back. “Very good time to ask him since he’s obviously not oiled.”

“Dead?!”

“Please! Take a joke!”

But I hear the door open. Another pony comes in, a mare. Looks twenty-ish like Desk here.

“Um, I’m looking for Clean Desk. He’s our boardmate at the Waldock Apartment—is that him?!”

Those huge eyes, her bent neck and head in absolute horror.

“Uh-huh,” I say, shrugging. “I guess so.”

She gallops up to him, takes the seat beside him and rubs his dirty mane. “Oh, no! Poor Desk!” Isn’t pointing hooves at me though, so fair game.

I glare at Grain. “Now you call a taxi, loverboy.”

“B-but I a-already broke up with her—“

“Tch! Quiet and call a taxi, heartbreaker!”

He glares at me, saying nothing before calling for a taxi. Kids these days. They make relationships last one hour. Back in my day, they lasted days.

While he calls and the mare comforts the drunken Desk, I get a text. Phone so bright, killing my eyes, but I read:

Ember is here with company. Wants you to join her. On trip to commission Pole Lock to make a gem painting of herself.

Heh. Ember had to give in to the trend sooner or later… but head hurts, feel pooped, think I’d insult Pole Lock, start a fight.

I politely text no. Much as I can text drunk. Head so heavy!

And then, it’s ringing?

“Sight See! Don’t tell me you’re going to pass this up! I’m sick and tired of everyone else telling me I should get my own portrait. If they’re gonna be like that, I’ll just get the best and make ‘em shut up!”

“Bu-ut wai-i—“

“Come over here ASAP or else!”

Call ends. Eh. Argh. Ugh.

I stare away and smile. I know this won’t end so well, but I haven’t had a bad feeling about things like this for a very, very… very long time.

Let’s ro… r-r-r… roll?

Then comes Grain to help me stagger out of the bar. "Know what, Nobel Grain? Stop helping me! I’m the admirable assistant of some empath with dragons and zebras! I can do this on my own!"

“Sir! You’re too drunk for this establishment—s-stop kicking! Just… just go do your thing outside!”

“Shut up! I got a grip to a tallery with ehis Tember, and I got a pem gainting to buy or else!”