When most people travel to Canterlot they usually take the train. To be realistic it is a smart, safe, sensible way to travel. One that I fully recommend. Another way to get there would be using one of the many well patrolled, well maintained roads that will take you to Canterlot though a little longer depending on how far away from it you are.
However, there are other roads that can get you there as well. Some less secure. Some not so safe. And some downright dangerous. If you are so inclined to travel along one particular of these less safe, more obscure back roads. Past the forest of trees with faces of ponies screaming in agony that always appear during a certain time just before sunset. Past the trashy, ugly broken town made almost entirely of wagons and carts that have been turned into houses for the settlement of ponies that call it home. Follow the winding road past another lone pony always wearing a dirty pink bunny suit silently watching you as you pass by. You will most assuredly stumble across a small crappy twenty-four hour fast food restaurant called the GrabNGo. Attached to a crumbling hotel that no one has ever spent the night that borders yet another strange and creepy forest.
Walk inside and the first thing you’ll notice is the scent of expired milk mixed with cleaning fluids and other less desirable scents that I would suggest you don’t dwell on for too long. Go past the the rack of outdated maps telling you anywhere is better than where you are right now. Past old posters of food that never look as good as what we serve to you. Usually made by overworked and underpaid employees and booths that loudly creak with even the slightest of weight or movement. Make a left beyond the old soda machine that dispenses over fifteen different flavors that somehow all taste like orange soda while some kind of greenish ooze leaks from the bottom slowly eating away the floor right next to it. Its almost a foot deep now if any of you are wondering. Watch your hoof when you walk by it.
By then you should be at the front counter and find yourself staring at a white unicorn with a broken horn and a severely glazed smile stretched ear to ear. Along with eyes that never seem to blink and you have found....well that wouldn't be me. That would be Bright NSunny. A new hire who probably isn’t going to be working here much longer. Me? I’m the pony behind him trying to keep his head down and get through the day. Somehow trying my best to ignore all the weirdness at the Grab and Go.
Where should I start this? Let's see...Where should I begin? ...Well, I guess I could begin with that pony who is always dressed in that filthy pink bunny outfit that silently stares at you from the edge of the forest as you travel onwards towards your destination. Silently watching you from those black, eternally empty holes of its mask. Staring directly into your soul as if it knows all your deepest darkest secrets that you even hide from yourself...And I don’t want to talk about him right now so let's start this over.
Ah. I can hear somepony screaming from the bathroom. He must have just met “The Great Ravioli.” Now Ravioli is some kind of strange fortune telling machine that’s been haunting the restrooms in our little restaurant as far back as I can remember. No one has ever seen anypony bringing it in or leaving it. Always arrives out of the blue. Always. It’s the kind of antique machine you probably saw at cheap fairs and amusement parks that smelled of stale cider and urine. With drunken carnies looking for anyway they can to rob you of your last bit. The type of place that always costs more bits for less amusement. I have never seen “The Great Ravioli” myself but have had it described to me many times by those who have run across it. Usually meeting it as they step out of the stall. Staring straight into your soul you with those glowing orange eyes and wide grin as I’ve been told. Dressed stereotypically like some vagabond gypse. It’s mouth moving continuously in an up and down motion. Asking, no demanding to read you your fortune. As most scamper away from the machine. I have only heard of one who actually got up the nerve to actually get his fortune. Supposedly it said: “The end will always be up.” Not sure what that means but he did spend a week held hostage by fruit bats. So, you know, There's that.
Even rarer than The Great Ravioli is sightings of a pony known only as THE KING. Now THE KING is supposedly some tan earth pony wearing a white sequin jumpsuit covered in rhinestones with his black mane slicked back that travelers had been meeting even before I started working here. Again no one has ever seen him enter to exit the store. But if you, Luna forbid, have to use our almost never cleaned bathroom and may Celestia have mercy on your soul if you do. You may find yourself being serenaded by him with one of his songs. One unfortunate user who entered the bathroom claimed to have found THE KING had somehow brought an entire grill with him and was cooking hayburgers in the bathroom.
He supposedly offered one to the stallion who then ran out to tell us about it. Never did figure out how he was able to bring an entire grill into the bathroom.
So many things that go on around here that I feel I could and should tell you about. Like for example the two-headed cat named Frank that lives behind the dumpster out back. Or maybe I should tell you about why we’re not supposed to rent out room 19. Though it’s not like we ever have anyone stay anyway. Still unable to find out why all the rooms smell like ammonia and grape jelly left to spoil on a hot summer day then placed in a cooler. Like Grandma’s house, I guess would be the best way to describe it.
Hold on a second. Speaking of Frank I just saw him dragging Bright NSunny to the dumpster. I better go and get him so I can get off on time. Brb.
Back. I guess I need to change Frank to Franceen. Found out she just had a litter of adorable freakish two headed kittens abominations that glow with an inner greenish light. I do have to admit it is kinda cute how she was going to feed him to her brood. I just know Franceen is going to be a great mother to her hellish offspring. But I am wondering who or what the father is. Still I have a hunch after watching Bright NSunny run screaming down the road after I freed him that he probably won't be coming back. Like ever. Damn. That means I have to work a couple of hours longer today.
I think I should have mentioned that first. Sorry about that. I have been working in a crappy little twenty-four hour store called the GrabNGo for about, What? Three maybe four years now? I think. Not quite sure about it. Not quite sure about anything really. Time acts funny here. Not really a straight line but more of a “Choose-your-own-adventure” to the whole space-time continuity. Ever have a conversation with yourself? I have on numerous occasions and I have come to realize I’m a pretty boring pony if I’m being honest.
I just realized that the chocolate and creme cake rolls are missing from the display again. I hope they haven't escaped outside and are just hiding in the store. They had almost made to the outer walls of Canterlot before me and Penny ForaPound the other full time worker had been able to capture all of them before returning them back to the store. Not sure what they were planning on but I do know It involved the princesses and some sort of horrible death..
I seem to have gotten off topic.
Sorry, I had to stop there for a few minutes. Farmer Bryer’s cow had wandered into the place. The left half I think it was. Hold on lemme check...Yeah it was the left half. Not sure what the right half is doing. It had been using its two legs to slide around on the ground and even managed to make its way to the counter. I had to lean over pretty far to see its face staring back at me patiently waiting for me to help it. “Um, can I help you buddy?'' I asked.
The cow responded by making this weird almost primal noise sounding like a screaming foal that ended in a hybrid animalistic sound closer to its kind.
“WAAAMOO,” the cow called out.
“Sorry I don’t speak mutant cow abomination,” I responded back, “You gotta be more specific.”
“WAAAMOO,” the thing called out again, “WAAAMOO.”
It had taken a good several minutes for it to somehow convey to me that it wanted one of our apple pie desserts we had placed on a small rotating display next to the register.
Did cows even like apple pie? Huh, learn something new everyday.
“That’s three bits,” I yelled at the half-cow. Which it did manage to pay me. Not going to say where it kept the money or how it even had money or how it was able to lay three bits on the table before sliding out of the restaurant just a few moments before Farmer Bryer arrived. He did tell me he was definitely a farmer and not a member of a secret government agency. With his farmer black suit and his farmer sunglasses and his farmer earpiece that he constantly talked into.
He asked me which way the cow went and I pointed him in the direction he went. In the direction of the forest. Watching him as he wandered back into the woods from where he came. So yeah, that happened.
Anyway, I have to go to work shortly. And I need to take a shower and wash off the funk and then get dressed. I promise I’ll talk more about it shortly. The main thing to take away from all of this is my name is Rusty Nail and I work in a shitty little twenty-four hour restaurant called the GrabNGo at the edge of a shitty little podunk town and weird things happen. Until then to be continued.