It was dark like a summer night in the woods as I stood alone. Surrounded by an infinite desert comprised of black sand sitting under a sea of stars. Entranced, I stood there finding myself listening to something pouring out from the nameless void spread in front of me in all directions. Listening not with my ears. But with my being. My soul.
Each star a note. Every creation from the stars above me to the sand under my hooves an instrument for some celestial orchestra. The music of the universe. The music of the infinite Composed even before my world had ever come to existence it had been playing for so long, and still it was beautiful..So damn beautiful. I could feel this galactic melody play on and on while I could do nothing but listen. I felt a great calm overtake me. Filling me with a peace I had never felt before. “Listen to us,” The music seemed to say, “Let us show you the everything of the cosmos before you.”
I saw a vast world like no other. I could see the silhouette of many Palm Trees scattered throughout the land while I stood in the center between towering pyramids and ancient statues of unknown ponies garbed in clothing I could not recognize made from blackened stone the same color of the sand. And through it ran a clear blue river flowing all the way to parts unknown. It was lonely yet beautiful.Haunting with a hint of tranquility yet an a foreign joy for the secrets it contained waiting, just waiting to enlighten some schmuck like me. And among this beauty. This perfect place was her. She had been waiting. Waiting for me.
Her skin was green like Lyra but hairless without mane or tail. Black lines crisscrossed along her body as if she had been assembled and I knew that if I got close enough to look I would have been able to see what was behind her through those lines. In her eyes swam galaxies. Celestial universes swam in her eyes. She was a thing of truth. A pony of learning. An angel. A goddess. A creature of such beauty had called me to her and I had finally come.
“Rusty,” she spoke not with words or even a voice. But with her own music passing through the physical and directly implanting into my mind. “Rusty,” she spoke again.
“Yes?”
“Rusty of the GrabNGo greetings. I am your spirit guide. Finally you have come. There is so much happening. So much to teach you. So much you need to learn.”
“Really?” I asked.
“Yes Rusty I must prepare you for things to come. To get you ready for the great evil that will be arriving soon.” she said still smiling at me.
“A great evil?”
“Indeed. But first I must lay some ground rules. Rule number one: No kissing. You wouldn’t believe how many times I have come to someone and the first thing they want to do is make out. Rule two…”
There was more she was going to say when I heard the sound of a muffled thump as the pony before me grew silent. A confused look crossed her face while her eyes glazed over shortly before the pony crumpled to the ground. And behind her stood...Penny holding a rock in her hoof.”
“No need to thank me,” she shouted, “Let’s go before she comes to.”
I could feel the land start to sway and turn with some force starting to pull me back away from this world. “Penny,” I whined, “That was my spirit guide. She was supposed to show me the secrets of the universe...or something. Come to think of it she never really specified.”
“Oh,” said Penny letting the rock fall from her hoof with a look of guilt. Absently prodding the pony on the ground a few times with her front leg before slowly backing away. “Um, Sorry.”
There was more but then the pull had overtook me and found myself falling upward. Falling away from this world. Falling away from the universe. Falling, falling until I woke up…
And I was back inside the GrabNGo.
Hello all to those who have been following me so far. And hello to those who have just started. My name is Rusty. Rusty Nail and I work at the shitty restaurant called the GrabNGo. Which is on the edge of a shitty town filled with shitty ponies and well, weird stuff happens here.
I had fallen asleep again in one of the booths before my overnight shift started. Its been happening a lot recently. Not sure why but it’s getting worse. This problem has left huge holes in my memories where I have no clue what I had been doing. I mean things are getting done so there's that. But I admit to being a little worried after working a nine hour shift and having no recollection as to what I did during that time. Fortunately I have been keeping notes on everything so the night isn’t a total loss. Apparently I have been writing on everything I could get my hooves on. Napkins, receipts, paper bags. And keeping them in order too. I’ll have to thank myself for doing that. And so without further ado I’ll start with the first one.
Midnight: Came to work and relieved Fools Gold. A quiet unicorn mare who had been working for us for about three months now. Counted my cash drawer, did the dishes. Moved a crate of fries to the fry bin.
12:33a: Completed my inventory checklist and served six ponies. Two of them I’m sure weren't real. Then sat in one of the booths and started to read a book I bought from the library book sale.
12;48a: One of the overhead lights had gone out. I had grabbed the ladder from the back of the store and proceeded to change it out when Farmer Dill Pickle came in wanting some food. Incidentally he was the one who about a year ago raised some hell about serving some hayburgers we made to his pigs which he claimed turned all their faces into ponies constantly screaming like newborn foals. He threatened to sue us and we eventually calmed him down with a few coupons for a free double hayburger meal with the purchase of a new one. So there's that.
I admit to not paying attention like I should have but I was focusing on changing the light and let me tell you those things are hard to take out and install. I think he must have gotten impatient waiting for me to make him something because he came over to me and started shaking the ladder to get my attention. I remember him yelling at me to stop what I was doing and fix him something when I had lost my balance and fell straight down. I would have been hurt really bad had not Farmer Pickle been standing right under me. I’m okay in case any of you are wondering. Just a couple of slight bruises. As for Farmer Pickle…
A loud crack echoed throughout the restaurant. Followed by the sound of air being expelled like a balloon deflating. I laid their stunned for a moment on what I thought was the ground wondering why it was so warm...and kinda comfy. Even with all the bones it was still kinda nice. Who knew laying on ponies could make you want to sleep.
It took me a few moments for me to clear my head and realize I was laying on a dead Pickle. I know. I know what you're going to say. I should have called the guards. I should have gotten help. I should have done a lot of things but I didn’t. Instead I panicked I grabbed the body of Farmer Pickle and dragged him into the cooler hiding him under some old storage blankets and pretended that nothing happened while my mind raced for a solution.
1:17a: The pony in the dirty pink bunny suit is staring at me again from the edge of the streetlight. Does he know? If he did would he tell anyone? I dunno. Right now he just keeps dancing around and around in a circle. Occasionally glancing over to me to make sure I’m watching him. Once he held up his hoof at me in a rude gesture again before stopping to just stare at me.
I’m not sure when he disappeared. I took my eyes away for a second and when I looked back he was gone.
1:24a: Cleaned out the rat traps and wiped the windows. A pony came by wearing a suit and coat three sizes too big for him. His black mane was oily and clung to his head and neck. The pony was pulling a cooler with wheels attached to his. He came over to me and asked if I would be interested in selling meat in the restaurant.
I told him we don’t usually get carnivores here but if he wanted he could ask the owners. The stallion then opened the cooler and gave me a pound of that stuff wrapped in parchment paper as a “free sample” he said before leaving. I thanked him and put it in the cooler then proceeded to forget about it.
1:35a: I killed Farmer Pickle...again. I was in the prep area cutting the vegetables to prepare when I heard someone shouting at me. Of course I went to the front to serve them and who should I see but Farmer Pickle standing behind the counter. Angry that he had been waiting for awhile. I could feel my chest tightened as the air escaped my lungs. It couldn’t be but it was Farmer Pickle? I knew it was him. My mind was screaming that it was him. Right down to his yellow tobacco stained beard that confirming that this had to be Farmer Dill Pickle.
I could feel a rush of relief running through me. Hooray, I didn’t murder anyone I thought at the time. But still this pointed to even dire things. Did my mind finally pick that time to start breaking down? I knew it was only a matter of time for this to happen. Ever since that incident so long ago I had known my mental health was only going to go so far before I ended up in some asylum for the rest of my life. Staring at the pretty colors with a line of drool going all the way down to my hooves. I just hoped it wouldn’t have been this early.
He had ordered his usual. Two hayburger deluxe, extra ketchup, no pickles. Medium fries and a large soda. All the while complaining about how young ponies these days don’t value hard work like they used to apparently. I made what he ordered and went about my daily routine. Confused and more than a little worried. I killed him. I know I did. Yet there he was sitting in one of our booths stuffing his face.
I wanted to check the cooler but I couldn’t. I just couldn’t make myself go in there and see. I just didn’t want to take that chance. Either way was terrible somehow to myself.
My thoughts were interrupted by loud gasping and wheezing noises coming from the dining area. Along with the sound of upturned furniture and tables being tossed. Quickly I galloped to the front and there was Farmer Pickle fed faced with his hooves around his neck. Clearly choking.
Instinctively I ran to him. My training took over as I wrapped my hooves around his torso and started thrusting into his stomach hoping to dislodge the particle of food that was blocking his airways. In my defense I would like to point out that I did clear his throat allowing him to breath again...If only I hadn’t forgotten I was still holding the knife.
I must have stabbed poor Farmer Pickle a good number of times before he collapsed to the ground. Dying before he even hit the floor. His last words were some muffled groan that I’m sure meant “Don’t worry Rusty I know this was an accident and your conscious is clear from any wrongdoing. So don’t feel guilty and have this incident scar you for the rest of your life.” but who can say. My mind became blank for a short while. Deciding to check out after killing him again for the second time. Letting me know it would be back when things calmed down.
I did what I could. I cleaned up the mess and dumped Farmer Pickle on top of the first one. Taking a few moments to realize there were two Farmer Pickle bodies in the cooler.
I know I wasn’t the sharpest tack in the bunch, and with everything that had just happened a lot of emotions were going through me. Still, why were their two Farmer Pickle’s in my cooler?
3:15a: I noticed somepony had left a coffin sitting by one of the tables in the back. I saw it after taking care of a late night rush just a short while ago. Wasn’t the first time this had happened. As a matter of fact we had a total of eight different coffins five times since I had been working here. I ended up putting it out back near the dumpster. Hopefully, it will be claimed.
3:21a: The pony in the dirty pink bunny suit is back. He’s at the window this time. Running his hoof up and down the pane. Making an ungodly squeaking noise as he stares at me.
3:28a: Brought out the breakfast dishes. Dropped a pile of bits into the safe. Ignored the floating sphere when it stole an order of fries before disappearing into one of the overhead vents. I marked it on the food loss sheet before continuing.
3:43a: Farmer Pickle is dead again and this time it wasn’t my fault. It started when I had taken out the trash. I threw the last bag of garbage into the dumpster and sat down for a few minutes to catch my breath. I admit to feeling frazzled over the incidents of the night and really just didn’t know what to do.
I was sitting there lost in thought when I felt something rubbing against my rear leg.The soft glow filling the area around me with a greenish light let me know one of Franceen’s hellspawns had come over wanting some love. “Hey there little fella,” I said placing it on my limb. Stroking both of its heads with my hoof. His eyes rolled back in pleasure as it made a deafening roar like a chainsaw that I took it to be a purr. “Aw, you're not so bad little fella,” I continued. And for a brief moment I felt that everything was going to be alright. That I would get through this. That maybe. Just maybe someone out there is looking out for me. Watching over me.
Then the fucker coughed up a hairball from both of its heads and pooped on my leg. Disgusted I jumped up brushing off the mess as best I could. Ready to go back inside to clean myself up at the kitchen sink when I found yet another body of Farmer Dill Pickle stuck to the side of the dumpster. Apparently Franceen and her brood can spin webbing out of their butts. Who knew?
They had tied Mr. Pickle in a cocoon of ass silk and drained him dry. Just a husk of a pony by the time I had found him. Fortunately he was also a lot lighter to drag into the cooler and dump on top of the others.
4:13a: Did more dishes. Filled out the temperature log. Did inventory. When that was done I read.
4:38a: Mopping the dining area while listening to the music piped in. And no for any of you asking I don’t sing or dance along with the songs when I’m alone. Especially that new single from Countess Coloratura. Although in my defence if I did. They play that song like a hundred times a day. Just over and over again.
Anyway I may or may not have been singing to a certain song that had been playing when it happened again. Static began to erupt from the speakers in the ceiling drowning out Coloratura’s voice voice in an audio of white snow. Replacing it instead with the calm low voice of a stallion as he quietly spoke.
“Princess Celestia is sleeping. Princess Luna has entered Bonbon’s Dream. There are eight more ponies in Canterlot than yesterday. Moon Dancer has four pairs of shoes. Fleur just ate a strawberry cupcake with cream cheese frosting.”
On and on would the voice state these random facts. I’m not sure how the restaurant is getting this or why. But we have been randomly picking these transmissions for almost six months now. Always at night. Always at random. The voice would drone on and on without a break wile spouting random facts to who I don’t know.
“Captain Stout Oak has fallen asleep at his post. Fluttershy is crying. Octavia has accidentally snapped all the strings off her cello.”
What is even weirder than that is sometimes the voice will tell things that no one should know. Like which mare is going to find out they are pregnant before they even know it. Once it stated the death of a Canterlot noble of a heart attack eight hours before it happened.
“Squiggles has killed another pony. Twilight Sparkle has fallen asleep on the train to Canterlot. The dog to pony ratio in Canterlot is 3.016 to 2.35. Daring Do’s favorite color is red.”
Even more was when the voice started talking about me.
“At the GrabNGo there is an earth pony named Rusty Nail. He is threat level Echo. Rusty Nail suffers from dissociative amnesia. He is aware of transmission.”
“Oh yeah? Well I’m aware of your...Face,” I shouted in panic. Realizing two things right after the words escaped my mouth. One, how stupid it is to shout at a speaker. And two I really needed to work on my smack talk.
There was more. The voice continued to talk for another moment before another wall of static assaulted the speaker so loud it forced me to the ground as I tried my best to cover my ears in an attempt to block out as much as I could. When suddenly it stopped and I could hear the last few chords of “The Spectacle” song fade away.
4:50a: Serve five ponies. Counted my drawer. Mopped the dining room floor. Finished getting the store ready for my relief. I then went to the back to dump out the mop water and when I came back I found yet another dead Farmer Dill Pickle. Apparently he had slipped on the water near the counter, smacking his head against it as he fell to the ground and broke his neck. And for the record, yes I did put out a wet floor sign.
Once again I dragged the body to the back cooler to place with the others. Finally registering that there are four dead Farmer Dill Pickles. Before I could do anything the cooler open and in walked Penny and Fools Gold each of them carrying yet another dead Farmer Pickle. Who knew Farmer Dill was so easy to kill.
The three of us stared quietly at each other in that unique way where you were too embarrassed to make eye contact. A lot of shuffling and clearing of throats until finally I said the only thing that came across my mind. “Well this is awkward.”
6:01a: Finally finished burying all the dead Farmer Pickles. The three of us had made some space for them behind the restaurant between the dumpster and the forest. Ignoring the sounds of what sounded like children giggling from deeper in the woods.
And I have to say we were running out of room behind the GrabNGo. Me, Penny and now our newest employee Fools Gold had buried a lot of monsters out back most of the, not all but most of them stay in the ground. And I noticed that we were running out of room. I wonder what we are going to put the bodies when there is no more space?
Anyway, I had finished dumping the last shovelful of dirt over the last grave and Fools Gold insisted on having us all say a few words before leaving. Forming the three of us into a semicircle around the five graves and making us bow our heads before speaking.
“Oh Mister Farmer Dill Pickle,” she started, “All six of you. We commend your soul to Pony Heaven. Or whatever religion you worship and hope you are happy in your final resting place. Your life was taken away from Equestria too soon and you will be dearly missed. Gone before we got to know all or any of you. May I hope you rest in peace.”
“Amen,” Penny and I said at the same time.
“Penny? Would you like to add something?” Gold asked.
“Well...er...I’m not really good at this but…,” Stumbled Penny, “Um...Once I served Mr. Pickle at his table and he tried to run his hoof over my flank so I punched him in his face. Had I known this was going to happen I might have let him.”
“That was sweet,” murmured Gold before turning her attention to me, “Rusty your turn.”
I admit the first thing that came across my mind was a bunch of dead pony jokes. I pushed them away before I added to the eulogy. “Once I made Farmer Pickle a cup of coffee and he said I had done a good job.”
“Amen,” said Gold.
“Amen,” we followed.
We had a moment of silence before heading back into the restaurant where I counted down my drawer before putting it in the safe. Gave Penny the keys before I headed home. And I remember none of this. Which explains why I’m filthy.
There is more to write but right now I really need to shower and change. So till next time reader. To be continued.