Music flowed across the air from a radio in the corner – it was an alt-rock song popular a few years ago that the average person didn’t really remember. The room itself was a chaotic mess of compiled scrap, unfinished machines, bulky appliances, and a few sparking wires - in stark contrast to a well-used, yet perfectly-maintained coffeemaker. In the corner of the room stood a sheet-metal desk, its legs bolted to the floor, and the surface smoothed for better work. A single wooden stool accompanied the desk, clearly out of place in the primarily iron and steel space, but accepted just as it was. It was joined by the sounds of a ratchet wrench turning and turning above a bench at the end of a machinist's workshop.
Atop the stool sat a light green pony. Adorning this pony’s frame was a small white lab coat, one which covered up his cutie mark. He was smaller than your average adult stallion, moreso at that particular moment as he hunched over his desk. In complement of his disorganized workspace, his coat was rough and dishevelled. If he slept, he did so briefly and rarely, as the bags under his eyes would attest. In spite of how tired he looked, his purple eyes were focused and resilient. A rip along the lab coat’s side from years long passed hinting at a pair of wings.
With practiced motions and a tight grip on his wrench, he adhered a strap around two pieces of old machinery that didn’t look like they wanted to be together: a propeller base that was just short of snapping, and a strange looking lead box that was having severe regrets about not being a harder material at that time.
“C’mon, c’mon...” the pegasus muttered under his breath as he applied one final turn of his wrench. Lacking earth pony strength, he couldn’t make it any tighter. “It’ll have to do.”
He set his contraption down, reaching up the wall behind his metal desk and grabbing a soldering iron from its mounted holster. He plugged it into a wall socket and tooka solder spool standing atop the broken microwave pile to the desks right. As he waited for the metal stick to heat up, the stallion tested the propeller blades, finding their rotation very smooth. Excellent.
With his soldering iron fully heated, the pony grabbed a hold of the handle with one hoof and the solder spool with the other. His first move was toward the propellers wiring but he stopped himself. “No, base first, then wires. Don’t be stupid.” Having changed his mind, he brought the solder to the contraption’s contact point between the propeller base and the now-bowing box.
He avoided interacting with the straps and fused the two pieces of metal together. While he waited for the solder to cool he grabbed the loose wires and connected them to a circuit board inside the lead box. Finally, he unplugged his iron and let it cool before he pushed back on his stool, taking in his work.
Sighing happily, the inventor looked over his device and nodded, “Good, it’s ready.”
“Ready for what?” came a simple question from behind him. The green pegasus jumped what could be described as a ‘scooch’ into the air. Two scooches, actually.
“How many times, Dash?” he clutched his chest and turned to look at the intruder, “How many times have I told you not to interrupt me?”
The other pony – Dashboard – was a yellow unicorn, looking on with a wide grin. She wore a thin transparent visor that separated her horn from her two-toned mane. If you were to ask anypony what Dashboard’s original hair colour was, you’d receive confused looks in reply; currently, it was a violet-magenta blend, but that could easily change within the hour. On her back was a pair of saddlebags she frequently used for holding camera equipment. Her cutie mark was possibly the oddest thing about her, however, as it didn’t match her lifestyle at all; adorning her flank was a golden pair of crossed baguettes.
“You basically just said you’re done! What could I be interrupting?” Her smirk could have lit up a dark room.
Grumbling, the inventor narrowed his eyes at Dash. “My time finally accomplishing something.”
“Aw, c’mon, Backburn, don’t be like that! You do stuff all the time!” Dashboard encouraged, looking around the workshop. “Look at the room we’re in, it’s filled with your stuff. Look, there’s some stuff over there.” She began pointing around the room, “And some more stuff, and hey look, some stuff over there. It’s proof-positive you’re constantly working.”
Backburn raised an eyebrow, specifically making a point of not looking around, “Uh huh.” His unimpressed eyes roved over the unicorn briefly, “You seem chipper today. New scheme?”
A small digital camera – illuminated in a light rust-coloured magic aura – floated out of Dash’s bag. “I was struck last night with a brilliant idea!” She quickly scanned the nearby surfaces, finding a toppled fridge and brushing scrap off of it. “Day in and day out ponies all over Equestria post videos online. Good, bad, whatever they want!”
“Which is what you do. How is this news?”
Jumping up onto the fridge, Dashboard beamed as she looked down at Backburn. “That’s just it though, I’ve been going about it all wrong! All I’ve done is copy whatever’s popular and hope I get views. But that isn’t how it’s supposed to work!”
Backburn rolled his eyes, “Of course not, ponies hate derivative nonsense.”
“Exactl—well, actually no, ponies love copying each other, it’s what built the site, and it’s what I’ve been doing for the last three years.” Pacing with floating camera in tow, Dash suddenly stopped and thrust her hoof at Burn, “But then I realized, no one ever went VIRAL by copying other ponies.”
“...what?”
Dashboard returned to her pacing, “No, no, it all makes perfect sense, to be a star you have to start the copytrain, not just jump on somewhere in the middle. To MAKE it big, we have to START it big!”
“Okay, I see wha—“
“Which is what we’re doing today!” Dash suddenly jumped down from the fridge and beamed a skull-splitting smile directly into Backburn’s line of sight. He made no response as she excitedly nodded her head at him. He only raised an eyebrow as he remained silent, Dash nodded more as her face approached his, eyes inches from each other.
Without a word, Backburn pushed the unicorn out of his face and walked toward the door. “Grab the Scouter-Cube, we can launch it when we’re done with your thing.”
Dashboard threw her front hooves in the air in celebration, “YES!” She then swiped the weird-looking propeller-box and rushed to meet back up with her friend outside.
The exterior of the lab was a thin back alley, decorated with loose objects, drying laundry, scrap metal, a lawn chair, radio, and some scattered newspaper stacks. Directly across from the workshop stood a tall wooden fence. Backburn often wondered why the homeowner built a fence at all when ponies could easily fly over it, but was always too busy to ask. At the far end of the alley was a one-lane street that went between the backyards, and at the other end was the quiet main street of the local neighbourhood. Finally, the building they’d just exited was a two-storey appliance shop that was on the verge of going out of business... for the last ten years.
Backburn had to admit he’d been curious how the place stayed afloat; they basically never had any customers, or at least none he’d ever seen. Not that he chatted much with the owner of the building; he just paid his rent, stayed out of the way, and was thankful for the space. As he heard Dash close the door behind her he took in the calming afternoon air.
It really was a nice day. Burn regretted not spending more time outside. The fresh air and clear skies did ponies wonders for their health. Probably. Not that he’d ever know, his work inside as it was. “So,” he started, turning back to his slightly manic friend. “What am I doing?”
Dash smiled and took her saddlebags off, “Okay, so the recent trends are a foal explaining the plot of a sci-fi movie, a work out spoof, and a bunch of ponies acting like statues in the subway.”
“Uh-huh,” Burn narrowed his eyes in uninterest, “so am I doing jumping jills or giving up moving entirely?”
Dash’s smile dissolved into a pout, “No, see that’s the problem, you’re still trying to copy somepony else.”
“Right, how foolish of me.”
“We need something new!” A yellow hoof stomped into the dirt alley, “Something nopony has ever done before, but still funny and interesting.”
“Sure, but I have to ask if you see the irony here.”
“What?”
Burn walked over to the open lawnchair and sat down in it, “All these videos that ponies watch are natural. They aren’t forced, they just happen; but here you are attempting to push originality out of nothing.” He leaned back and closed his eyes, “You’re never going viral if that’s how we approach things.”
Dash glared at the pegasus, “Fine! If you don’t want to help me you don’t have to. I can do this alone!” She began storming off before a soft sigh reached her.
“I never said I wasn’t going to help you, but you need a better plan.”
Dashboard refused to answer the pessimist. She agreed, of course, but would never let him know that. She looked around the alley at what she could make the next 10 million view video out of.
Something to do with the newspapers? Like what, paper-mache?
Maybe the radio? No, she really didn’t want to break anything.
What about the fence? She doubted they could make wood all that funny.
Garbage can lids? Loud didn’t always make for good.
The alley itself? Probably not, she couldn’t write a song, let alone shoot a music video.
The broken bicycle? Nothing.
There’s a pony walking by, maybe a prank? Dash hated being cruel, even to be famous.
Well how about—
It was at that point that Backburn began snoring to mock how long Dash was taking. She puffed out her cheeks and narrowed her eyes at him, not that he’d ever see as all he cared about was complaining all the time. Dash always supported him on whatever he did, the least he could do was fake happiness for her for just five minutes. But instead he just laid there, looked like he was asleep, snoring loudly and convincingly. And if...
Wait.
“I just had a great idea!” Dash chirped, her momentary malice forgotten. “You can convincingly act unconscious better than anypony.” Not waiting for his snarky reply, she bounded over to him, her camera floating behind her. “You just keep snoring and I’ll film the next big thing!”
---
“That should be good.”
The sun hadn’t moved much across the sky, but in that time a lot had happened. The alley was a mess to say the least, newspapers flung everywhere, one of the fence boards had fallen off at one point and was placed against the cross boards. Everything was strewn about as if a small twister had gone through.
Dash had opened up the side panel of her camera and was watching her footage back, giggling madly. Backburn, by contrast, was stretching, looking exhausted. He cautiously spread out his wings before a sharp pain abruptly stopped him. He slowly stretched them out to full extension – an impressive wingspan to be sure – before carefully retracting them and letting out a breath of calm. He did this a few more times while he waited for Dashboard to address him. “I should really do more flying,” He muttered to himself.
The camera closed and was stuffed into Dashboard’s saddlebags, her magical aura finally dissipating with her giving an exhausted sigh of her own, but her face was no less giddy. “Oooh! We’re gonna be so famous!”
Burn held up his hoof before she could grab him and jump up and down; despite that he smiled - it was small, genuine. “I’m happy for you, Dash. Not really sure what you’ll get out of an hour of making me dance around in your magic, but the morons online will probably love it.”
“I know right?! ‘Napping Pegasus’ is going to be HUGE! They’ll have to pay me to take it down.” She returned to giggling before she noticed the look in Backburn’s eyes.
Still passively stretching his limbs, Burn lost his smile but traded it for his unbreakable resolve and determination. “So,” he began, in the same voice Dash always recognized as his scheme voice.
Where she was the internet guru and social master galore, Backburn was a genius inventor and mad scientist. Dozens of times through their lives they’d had adventures and escapades, the stuff of legends that would land them in the annals of history. While Dash did it for fame and adoration, Backburn had a different reason; she hadn’t figured it out in all the time they’d known each other, but she’d gotten close, it had to do with proving how good he was at... something.
‘Being smarter than everyone else’, if she had to guess. Backburn didn’t talk much about motivation, and he didn’t like when Dash pushed on the subject, so she tried not to. After all, you don’t need to share everything with good friends; sometimes you need your privacy and alone-thoughts, and hey, that was cool.
Dash sat quietly and paid rapt attention as Burn cleared his throat. “For as long as I can remember, ponies everywhere have been working for each other; we’ve gotten jobs and paid each other fair wages for fair work. Plus, it’s something most ponies enjoy doing, because more often than not their jobs match their special talents.”
He began pacing as he explained. Dash had no idea which one of them started it, but they both tended to pace when expositing information. “So explain to me then why it’s so hard to hold onto any bits you make? Loans are becoming more and more common each passing year and I can’t tell you how many ponies I’ve heard taking out mortgages on their houses, even second mortgages. Why is that, do you think?”
Dash had no idea and shook her head; she didn’t like thinking about money if she could help it. Backburn continued without expecting an answer, though. “It’s the banks! They charge huge fees for everything and it’s getting so bad nopony can even keep their bank accounts, which let’s remember we need for EVERYTHING. So what do we do?” This time Burn waited for an answer, his face stern and resolved.
“Sign a petition?” Dash lifted her hooves up in confusion.
Burn just shook his head though. “If petitions were going to work, we’d be way past such an easy solution. No, what we need to do is ROB THEM!”
“I...I-I, what? How do yo-, I mean I don-, I mean what? What do you I-I-I we can’t just! And to even suggest such a WHAT?” Dashboard shot up from the ground and was stammering at lightning speed as she tried to collect her thoughts, Backburn watched her resolutely as he waited for her to calm down. He’d give her time,it’d make sense she wouldn’t instantly be on board. It isn’t every day your best friend suggests you rob a bank.
“BACKBURN YOU REPEAT YOURSELF THIS INSTANT!” She finally yelled at the top of her lungs. She was distressed, he understood that, but it needed to be done. “We need to rob the bank, take all their money and give it to the hard working ponies that deserve it.” He hoped she’d come around; he’d hate to have to do it himself.
Dashboard lowered her eyes, not a hint of her usual jovial self left in her bones, “You want to steal from ponies and just give it out?”
Backburn felt guilty, but he knew he could do it. He knew it was what everypony wanted. He just needed the opportunity. “We wouldn’t keep any of it, I just think it’s the right thing to do.”
“To rob a bank.”
“Yes.”
“To steal millions of bits.”
“...yes.”
“To go to jail forever, and throw our friendship away.”
Burn’s eyes widened instantly, “No, no, no, no, Dashboard, no. The last thing I’d ever want is to throw you away!”
“Why, then?!” Dash bolted up with tears streaming down her face, “Why, why would you want to break the law, then?” Backburn had a hard time looking her in the eye, but she stared directly at him, “How could y-you want to do something so dishonest and criminal?”
“They’re the criminals!” he shouted, regretting the action immediately, his voice needed to be level, not angry, she needed to understand, “They’re stealing from ponies, they’re stopping all of us from living comfortably. We can’t get homes, we can’t have fun because we’re too busy working, we...”
He trailed off, this isn’t what he expected at all, sure she wasn’t the most excited about breaking rules, she’d spoken up in the past, but this just made sense, it... it was a worthy cause! How could she say no to helping everyone? All his life Backburn had had to settle and he had to watch all the adults settle too. No you can’t go to the beach, it’s too far away and we can’t afford to travel. We’re going to have to move if we can’t make this payment. We won’t have enough for groceries, so we’ll have to make do at half our budget this week.
All his life Backburn had heard the same things, life used to be so much easier, that bits used to go further. That... well, that things used to be simpler. All you really had to worry about is if you were being a good friend, some model example of Princess Twilight’s teachings. But life hadn’t been like that for years, and certainly wasn’t as idyllic as it’d been explained to him by his grandparents and their grandparents.
And the worst part was that nopony seemed to care. Sure they complained, but there was some shallow hope they all held onto that things would get better. They never seemed to get that if you want change, you have to make change. You can’t just sit around doing nothing, you need to be the one to stand up and solve the problems, or...they only get worse... they only get worse.
With sombre determination, Backburn looked right back up at Dashboard, “things will only get worse unless we do something. We have to do something.”
“Why though?!” Dash yelled through her broken heart, “Why does it HAVE to be you?! Why can’t it be anypony else? If it’s your neighbour or the movie store clerk or the police then you won’t get arrested, it doesn’t have to be YOU!”
“YES IT DOES!”
Dashboard was taken by surprise, she was afraid of losing Burn, and so she was trying to talk him down, but she didn’t expect him to yell at her and. She didn’t expect him to be crying too.
“It does have to be me! It, it’s not going to be anypony else! No one is ever going to do anything, none of them, it’s all... up to us, we...” Whatever steam he had going in was gone, and before Dash was a simple green pegasus, “We can’t depend on anyone Dashboard, we can’t keep waiting for, f-f-for, for h-h-h-her to. F-for her to come back.”
Before her eyes Backburn fell to the ground and held his legs to his chest, his eyes leaking but making no more sound than a sniffle. Dash immediately threw herself at him, wrapping him in a hug on the ground. “Hey, hey, it’s okay, shh...”
As Dash soothed her best friend she remembered the night that broke him. She remembered getting a call from him that his mom had gone missing, how Dash had raced over to his family home to help in the search. They searched all that night, and into the morning before letting the police take over. It was so long ago, but Backburn had never stopped hurting. Dash knew he blamed himself, and she did everything she could to help and support him, she knew that her love for her friend alone would never completely remove the loss.
Dash held him for a long time, just stroking his mane and telling him that she was there. Sometimes all she needed to do was remind him that she would always be there for him.
---
Eventually they’d moved back inside; the alley wasn’t the best place to have an emotional breakdown, after all. Backburn was silently busying himself with dismantling a blender, Dashboard was sitting on the nearby legless couch rewatching her camera footage on mute. In truth, she was waiting for what Burn was going to say; she knew he took a while to collect himself and he was likely deeply lost in thought.
The waiting was killing her, but she’d never admit that.
Until finally Burn stopped working and sighed, Dash perked her ears to listen and he slowly turned to face her. “I’m sorry,” he quietly spoke.
In a quick motion Dashboard put her camera away and looked at him. “No, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have freaked out like I did, I don’t like what you said, but I took it too far.”
“Maybe, but you’re right, robbing a bank is stupid.” He lowered his head, “I’m just overreacting because they lowered my disability pay again.”
Hearing this shocked Dash, “What?! Why?”
Burn rolled his hoof side to side. “Apparently I function too well to get the full benefit, so I’m... not getting as much next month. But hey, it’s okay, that money will go towards real trauma patients.”
“NO!” Dash got up from the couch with fury in her eyes, “They can’t do that! We need to go right up to them and demand more money, we need to—”
“Rob a bank?” Burn interrupted. He still felt guilty, but Dash had a certain way of cheering him up, and he was happy she at least wasn’t still upset with him.
“...” Dash stopped and put her hoof up, as if trying to grab a new point. When it was clear based on the conflicting emotions on her face that she couldn’t think of anything, she sat back down on the couch. “Well now I’m double sorry.”
With a small chuckle Backburn shook his head. “It’s okay, you didn’t know and now you do. I still want to do something, but I’ll be fine, I have you here.”
Dash nodded and smiled back, though more subdued than her usual cheer, “Well, I still want to make it up to you. Let’s drop off my camera equipment at home and I’ll treat you to...dunno, pizza?”
“I could go for pizza.”
---
The air had cooled somewhat as the day had gone on. The sun was still out, but a light blanket of clouds had rolled in. The weather ponies had scheduled some overcast to help with the summer heat wave. It didn’t help improve Backburn’s mood, but the breeze that came with the change in weather was a pleasant alternative to his workshop the past week.
He felt relaxed as he walked alongside Dashboard on their way to her house; he could tell, however, that she wasn’t feeling the same. Burn didn’t blame her, of course; he rarely heard good stories about the address. Not the location, of course, which happened to be a duplex in a quiet suburban neighbourhood. Nor did the problem lie with the neighbours, themselves not nosy, and actually quite neighbourly; Backburn always found himself chatting too long with an adorably friendly old mare that lived two buildings down. No, the problem laid with Dashboard’s... roommate.
“I’ll be waiting out here.” Burn said with a smile from the sidewalk; it was a little forced, as he wasn’t much of a smile guy, but he knew she appreciated when he put in the effort.
“I’ll only be a few minutes,” Dash nodded as she trotted up the short path to the left unit’s front door. She brought her keys out of her saddlebags in her magic before she sighed dejectedly. She stared briefly at the lock, unmoving until she turned back around to see her friend still smiling for her. Puffing up her chest somewhat, Dashboard unlocked her door and entered her home.
The interior hallway was sparsely decorated, with only a single potted plant and a takeout menu taped to the wall beside the landline phone. To the right of the hall was a staircase headed upwards to the second floor, just as sparsely decorated. To the left was an open doorway leading to what amounted to a living room, and at the end of the hall was the island of a kitchen counter.
Dash, suspicious from not meeting anypony upon entering the door, took a step up the staircase.
“And where do you think you’re going?”
...and immediately took her hoof off the stairs with a roll of her eyes. “To my room, why do you care?”
“I’m your mother, it’s my job to care.” Silencing the television and stepping out of the living room was an aged orange Earth pony. Her hazelnut brown mane was in a short style and cutie mark was a loaf of circular bread, Sourdough. There wasn’t a lot of familial resemblance between the two ponies, but the one thing that undeniably matched were their eyes; both had identical seafoam green pupils, and right now the older mare’s were deeply unimpressed. “Not that I’d expect you to understand what it takes to be a mother.”
Dashboard scowled, “You weren’t exactly much of one yourself.”
“Excuse me, young lady? You don’t get to take that tone with me!” Sourdough’s hoof stomped onto the floor.
“How many times do I have to tell you? I’m not a foal anymore! I graduated school, I have a job, and in case you’ve forgotten, my name is on the lease!”
A look of disgust overtook the old ponies face, “Of course you’re a foal, who else dyes her hair and slaps her loving mother in the face by insisting everyone call her yet-another made up name.” Sourdough began pacing, “Last month it was View Count and the month before that it was Like Button, Twilight only knows what it’ll be next time.”
Dashboard threw her hooves up in exasperation, “It beats the Tartarus out of my real name! I hate ‘Lemon Bread.’ ”
Sourdough looked to her right, purposefully avoiding eye contact with Dash. “Only my ungrateful daughter would throw a dozen generations of baking away just to live in some fantasy land.”
“I never wanted to make bread. I don’t care if that’s my special talent, that’s not who I am.”
Watching her mother’s eyes roll so hard they did backflips, Dashboard couldn’t help feeling all the more insulted at the immediate dismissal she knew would follow. “Right, I forgot, because it’s all about you, isn’t it? As long as sweet happy Lemon gets to keep playing pretend then all her little problems are taken care of for her.”
“Might I remind you, mother, that you’re living in my home. I pay the bills, I buy the groceries and I clean up after myself.”
“Then why haven’t you done the dishes, oh responsible one?”
“I DID MY DISHES, THE DIRTY ONES ARE YOURS!” Dashboard finally yelled before groaning in anger and storming up the stairs. Her mom made a final comment about how storming off was foalish, but Dash was officially done dealing with the failed baker.
At the top of the stairs she noticed her mom's dirty clothes hamper was knocked over. Close to ripping her own mane out, Dash lit her horn picking the hamper and dirty clothes up in her magic. She carefully refrained from tossing the thing down the stairs in a fit of frustration and headed to her own room. Dash quickly grabbed her laptop and charger before closing the door again.
...only to stop, reopen her bedroom door, and switch out her visor for an actual hat. Not that she let her mom’s comments get to her, no, it was more about... nothing, nevermind, Dashboard pulled her hat on unceremoniously and abruptly stopped thinking about it entirely.
“You better be home before curfew,” She heard as she made her way down the stairs.
Without stopping for so much as a single disdainful look, Dashboard answered back, “Do NOT fall asleep watching tv again!” And without another word, she locked her front door behind her.
Finally she let out the breath she was holding. Dashboard curled up on her front step and tried to steady herself. She was at her wits end and just wanted a single day without her mom ruining everything for her. She couldn’t remember how many years it’d been since the family business went under, but it wasn’t getting any easier to get through the day.
Before she could spiral into misery over it, she heard hoofsteps on the path approaching her. Looking up she saw a goofy looking smile on a goofy looking pegasus, he had his hooves extended for her, and she happily accepted the embrace.
---
A soft melodic beat could be heard in the air throughout Backburn’s workshop as the radio continued to play, unimpeded by the events of the day. Backburn was sitting on the couch eating the final slice of a broccoli and pepper pizza. Some several metres away, at a wooden door propped up by piled appliances and acting as a makeshift desk, Dashboard sat working away at her laptop.
Burn had to admit that he knew little about how video editing worked. Not that he’d be able to, anyway; hoofboards were expensive, so he wouldn’t be able to use Dash’s computer. He often found himself watching, though; it was interesting. Currently, she was overlaying some of the footage over other parts for what Burn guessed was some sort of barbershop quartet thing.
Dashboard added one last visual effect before saving the project, closing the program and turning to face Burn with a wide grin. He sighed in relief, knowing that she had returned to her regular self.
“So,” she offered to the open air, “there’s that new action movie playing at the theatre tonight. Wanna give that a watch?”
Burn rolled his head on his shoulders, “Maybe, which one was that?”
Dash struck a dramatic action pose, “You’ve stolen my dog! Let us settle this...WITH PAIN!” Immediately she moved forward and faced where she just was, “You’ve spoken the words right out of my mouth!” She then chopped at the air in front of her before breaking out in a fit of laughter.
“You really want to watch that crap? They didn’t even translate it right.”
“First of all, that’s what makes it amazing,” She defended, “Secondly, this movie is bound to be stupid, entirely too long, and a complete waste of my time. Why wouldn’t I want to watch it?”
Rolling his eyes, Burn considered the idea, “You won’t care if I complain the entire time?”
Dash waved her hoof dismissively, “If I wanted you to like a movie, I wouldn’t pick a poorly-translated, two-hour smackfest.”
“Then I’m fine with it. How late does it go ‘til? Wouldn’t want to keep you from going home.”
The bright spirit’s smile faded somewhat and Burn felt immediate guilt for speaking his mind unfiltered. “I’ll be staying here tonight, if that’s alright with you.”
“Getting an early start this week?” Burn asked. She normally spent several consecutive nights crashing on his couch, to the point that it was reliable enough to set a clock to. He wasn’t expecting it until tomorrow, though.
She nodded in return and motioned to her laptop, “It’ll be easier to edit in this cold dark space that feels like home than my home that feels like a cold dark space.”
...Burn had to admit he wasn’t ready for anything poetic, but when it appeared that Dash was giggling at her sudden insight he didn’t mind. It was just her being fun. He wanted to do something instead of just sitting around, so he looked over to the stack of weathered and decrepit board and card games. Ruse seemed like a fun distraction, but too long. Whinopoly had the same problem. He looked at the chessboard on the top of the stack and determined that it’d be a good choice for now, and maybe she might go easy on him.
Throwing aside his coat, Backburn slowly unfurled his wings, stretching them slightly and testing out a flap. He used to be an excellent flier, and it was just like riding a bike, right? He winced when he started, but pushed past the pain as he tested out different degrees. He had an excuse to fly and he was going to, dangit, he could feel his natural pegasi magic gathering in his wings and everything!
After testing enough and finding the sudden sharp pain spots he experimentally took off from the ground and hovered for a moment before tensing up and falling back down onto his hooves. He considered himself lucky that he wasn’t heavy or the landing may have hurt, but that didn’t stop the thud sound from filling the room and catching Dashboard’s attention from tidying up a bit of the mess by her makeshift desk.
“Hang on, was that sound you?” She asked with an all-too-knowing look in her eyes.
“I’ve been thinking about flying again recently,” he explained and then pointed to the top of the game pile, “And I thought getting the chess board up there would be a good starting point.”
The squeal that exploded outward could deafen ponies at 100 metres. “OH MY TWILIGHT I’M SO PROUD OF YOU! I HOPED YOU’D START FLYING AGAIN FOR YEARS THIS IS SO HUGE I COULDN’T BE HAPPIER!!”
Backburn turned his ears back to muffle the sound and it barely helped, but knowing it was from a place of joy made him smile. “Thanks,” he offered in return, “I’ve thought a lot about it the last few days and I want to start doing more for—”
BANG BANG BANG BANG
The sound of hooves loudly pounding at a door rang in throughout the workspace. The two confused ponies looked at each other before Dash silently motioned to the door they normally used, the one leading outside, as if to ask “Is it that door?” Burn shook his head however and started walking over to the door connecting the workshop to the rest of the store.
Upon opening the door, Backburn was met with the face of an older stallion with a slicked black mane and a certain unpleasant air about him. From his perpetually narrowed eyes and slight grin, most ponies thought of him as a sleaze ball, but Burn knew him for another reason, one of a little more consequence. “Hey Backburner, I need you out front so we can talk about your rent around here.”
“Hey, wait a—” Dashboard was beginning to yell, but Burn held up his hoof before he turned to look back at her.
“Don’t worry, I’ll be fine, it’ll only be for a few minutes,” Burn said in a reassuring tone before he and the landlord walked through the door and closed it.
Walking into the shop was a different feel entirely, it had a nice finish on the floor, the counter was free of junk, and everything was nicely organized. Burn couldn’t help feeling a bit like a slob by comparison, “Just another thing I need to start working on.” The older Stallion took his seat behind the counter and Burn looked at him, “What’s this about, Mr. Braun Tube?”
Braun Tube steepled his hooves and looked directly at Burn, “I like you, kid, so I’m going to be frank with you. Some hyuck in city hall figured electricity was too cheap and decided to raise taxes on it. Now I don’t know if you know this, but the books around here are pretty delicate, and this increased expense is likely to break the Yak’s back. That means I gotta turn to you right now. I don’t charge you much, I think it’s fair, but something needs to be done or my business goes down. So I’m thinking I add a bit of a raise on all that electricity you use on lights and power to that microwave graveyard you’re living in and suddenly we’re all square. Think that makes sense to you?”
Backburn got lost somewhere during his landlord’s monologue, years in sale having apparently given him the power to speak faster than anyone else could listen. Burn understood the majority of it though, he thought. “I can’t do much until the end of the month, but I don’t really need my lights on all the time. I could turn them off more often.”
The appliance shop owner banged his hoof on the counter, “Good,” he grinned, showing no signs of hard feelings. “Now you get back in there to that marefriend of yours and show her you’re serious about that flying business she was just yelling about.” The two stallions nodded to each other and Burn walked back where he came from. “I’m going to write up the official raise in your rent for the tax workers downtown and have a copy of that under your door by morning.”
When Burn closed the door behind him Dashboard was in his face and shaking him by the shoulders. “What’s wrong? What did he say? Are you evicted? Will you have to live in the street? YOU CAN LIVE AT MY PLACE IF...” Stopping suddenly, both with her shaking and her thought, she took a stop back to collect herself. “Okay, probably not my place. I definitely don’t want you living in that mess.”
“Dashboard, stop worrying, things are fine,” Backburn reassured through a calming smile.
“But you’re getting kicked out.”
“Dash, I’m not getting kicked out, he’s just raising my rent because power went up. I’ll keep living here just fine. In the meantime we’ll be using less—”
Immediately all the lights in the workshop went out, shrouding them in darkness.
“...lights.”
For a while, the two of them stood there in silence. It just seemed to be one thing after another that day: first the breakdown, then Dash found out that Burn’s disability payments were getting reduced, then she just had to go home and interact with her mom again, and finally, power in the business district was being raised. It was like life was just out to get them, wasn’t it?
But then she remembered what Backburn had said earlier; it wasn’t just unfair for the two of them, it was bad all around. Braun Tube wasn’t charging more out of malice, it was out of necessity. It was likely the same thing that put her family bakery into the red and, eventually, foreclosure. Prices were going up across the board and wages were going down; Dash herself was starting to enter that uncomfortable uncertainty territory and couldn’t remember the last time she got a real raise.
Dash sighed. She didn’t like it, but she knew what she had to do.
“Okay,” she finally spoke, breaking the silence, “I’m in for that bank robbery.”
---
The day had progressed into the afternoon, and with it the heat was at its peak for the day. Dash didn’t mind much; many a year broiling in her home that lacked AC had built up an immunity for her. Thankfully, it was scheduled to be overcast for the rest of the afternoon to help counteract the unnatural heat.
The two ponies were sitting across the street from the bank in one of the city-built public benches. It was supposed to be part of a downtown revitalization project, but Dash couldn’t care much less; all she cared about was the fact that they were well-maintained and regularly cleaned. She looked around at the sparse crowds; not many ponies out in the mid-afternoon hours, all working or at home. She was happy she had the midnight shift at her stupid office job, seeing as it made spending time with Burn a lot easier.
She was also happy she was able to function on less sleep than was normal – otherwise she’d have SO much less free time. She looked at the bank proper for a moment, taking in the place; it was on the corner of an intersection, and seemed to be just another part of the building. In movies with bank robberies, banks seemed like these grandiose structures of security; they always had a bunch of benches inside, a dozen little teller windows, and usually in plain sight a giant vault door. Real life wasn’t like the movies, though; just a few ponies sitting behind the same desk with a few computers, with no actual money anywhere in sight. Dash wondered what their plan even was.
Burn looked uncertain as well, but for completely different reasons. Dash turned to him to get a read on what he was thinking. “Are you sure you want to go through with this?” He asked her.
“Yes Burn, I’m sure, I don’t like breaking rules, but they started it!” Dash grumbled, crossing her hooves in indignation. “Now stop asking me before I come to my senses.”
Burn just shook his head, “It’s not even just that. When was the last time we ever successfully stole anything?”
Dash took a moment to consider the few times they tried to illegally take anything. They were caught instantly when they tried shoplifting, failed pickpocketing got them a week of community service, and she didn’t even dare to remember their failed ‘steal candy from a foal’ adventure. They just weren’t – either of them – very good at being thieves. “I like to think of that as us being good ponies, even when we try not to be.” Dash stated with pride, before her chest deflated and she remembered why they were there. “But anyway, there’s a first time for anything, and if we’re going to break the law why... why not go f-for broke?”
He shook his head at her conflicted emotions; the storm in her mind was so big it was raining on him. “Okay,” Burn said to regather the unicorn's attention, “The first step in any successful bank robbery is reconnaissance, which is what this device is for.”
Burn patted the black lead box sitting between them. “Inside is a camera that can record video for us, and store it to a computer harddrive that I’ve secured inside the Scouter-Cube. I’ve attached a propeller on top to allow it to fly which I’ll control with an external board.” He took that moment to reach into the bag he brought with him and pull out a large wooden board with buttons, wires and a few joysticks attached to the top. “It’ll probably be easier for you to use with your magic, but I can operate it with my hooves if you don’t want to be complicit.” He started up the power to the propeller while he waited for her answer.
“Mmmmm... no, I think I’d be more comfortable if you fly the camera.” Dash looked like she wanted to do more, but didn’t really know what to do.
She watched as Burn nodded, understanding that she was fighting her own morals already. He lifted the box into the air, watching as it, somehow, hovered there without much issue. Dash didn’t consider herself an expert of anything, but wasn’t metal supposed to be heavy? She reasoned that the fan on top must have been pretty powerful.
“Backburn, what are you doing?” Dash and Burn both looked at each other and then at the new voice coming toward them on their left.
Who they found, or more accurately who found them, was a uniformed pegasus stallion. He was flying toward them at a slow pace, which fit his calming nature. He was a light blue officer of the Buffalton Police Division with a bushy mustache the same coat of green as his mane. He looked very fit, his large frame showing even through his brown uniform shirt. He looked curious and disappointed.
“Sergeant, “Burn said, trying to hide his control board, “How have you been? I don’t think we’ve seen each other in quite some time.”
The officer sighed, “Backburn, I know what you’re doing.” He motioned to a middle-aged unicorn mare standing behind, “The next time you want to do anything illegal, maybe don’t talk about it in public where everypony can hear you.” He chuckled lightly at his own joke, but quickly lost his smile, “Bank robbery? What’s gotten into you?”
Backburn didn’t know what to do, but knew he was caught and turned off the Scouter-Cube. “I’m sorry, Sergeant, it’s... well it’s been tough for a long time.”
“It was tragic the day we lost you as an up and coming firefighter.”
“Yeah...” Burn only sighed, feeling disappointed in himself.
The police pony looked around for a moment before returning to Backburn, “Look, I’m supposed to write you up and bring you downtown for this, but you’re a good kid, you both are.” He looked at Dash too, who was trying and failing to get worked up, “I can overlook this if the two of you agree to come over to my place tomorrow. We can talk about what caused you to arrive here and figure something out. And my wife can stop nagging me to invite you and your father over.”
The moustachioed officer got a simple chuckle out of his joke but Burn and Dash both were quiet. He tried offering a few words of encouragement, but neither of them perked back up. He left to return to his patrols but the two ponies just sat there for a long time, deep in thought.
Eventually, Burn stood up, gathered his things, and looked at Dash who – with tears in her eyes – nodded. And then they walked back to the workshop.
---
Music played in the sombre air from a familiar radio playing outside – it was an old rock song popular a few years ago. The room itself was a darkened facsimile of its former self, though with the addition of a new standing lamp illuminating the space. In the corner by the door a six outlet socket panel was being fashioned to the wall. A single heavy-duty extension cable led from the outlet out a properly-sized hole in the doorframe. Accompanying the lamp was a tall-backed armchair, clearly out of place among the used and rusted junk, brand new as it was. It was joined by the sounds of a screwdriver turning below the downcast expression of a defeated pegasus.
Setting his screwdriver down, Burn nodded at his hoofwork and closed the outer door, removing the source of natural light. Sitting in the chair with the building instruction for said piece of furniture was Dash, double checking she completed every assembly step. Burn sat down uncomfortably onto the worn out couch, considering his day. He looked over at the unicorn and realized she was doing the same thing, pouring over the instructions long after she needed to.
After sitting down on the couch, Burn sighed; they’d both been mostly silent the entire time, and... he wasn’t sure he knew what to say.
“Hey,” he finally said, across the room to Dash.
“Hi,” she returned just as demure and defeated as Burn was.
He looked around for a moment before returning his hollow eyes to hers, “Do you ever wonder why you do it?” At her confusion he elaborated, “Keep moving, I mean, why do we bother when we never do anything?”
Dash gave a noncommittal shrug, “No one else is going to.”
“I was being serious.”
“I was too, I think,” Dash sat up in her chair to gather her thoughts, “I mean, I take care of my mom, and you help out around here.”
Burn sighed for a moment before sitting up himself, “I dunno. Everything just feels numb all the time. The two of us have been trying to do... well, anything the entire time we’ve known each other, and what do we have to show for it? What have we done?”
Dash shook her head, “I don’t know...”
It was silent again for a while after that. Neither of them knew what to say to the other. Dash still felt bad for triggering Burn’s emotional breakdown a few hours prior; he hadn’t had one in over a month, as far as she knew. And it happened when she refused to do something they were doomed to fail anyway. She manipulated him just like her mother would. She felt so stupid.
Across the room, Burn was feeling just as bad, beating himself up over something so simple. Of course you don’t talk about robbing a bank across the street from it. He was lucky who ended up catching them – they could have easily been detained. He didn’t know how to make it up to Dash, she was always there for him, helping him out and asking for nothing in return. He felt so useless.
He thought neither of them would speak ever again before Dash chuckled ever so slightly, “Hey, do you remember that time we tried to repaint Mrs. Rose’s tool shed?”
“Yeah,” Burn remembered fondly, “I thought we could use her hose to spray it all at once and we ended up dumping three buckets of paint into her kitchen sink. She was so mad at us after that.”
“I remember having to waste our entire summer cleaning for her, but it was some of the most fun I’ve ever had.”
Burn lowered his head, “Mmm...” he barely mumbled.
Dash looked over at him and sighed, “If it makes you feel better, today was great for me.”
His eyebrow rose so high she was worried for the state of the ceiling, “Which part? The time I guilt-tripped you into crying? Or the time I almost got you arrested?”
“All of it,” She stated matter-of-factly, “Every part of today was worth it.”
Burn stared wordlessly, challenging her statement with cynical disbelief.
“Do you know what I’d be doing right now if I wasn’t here?” Dash narrowed her eyes, “I’d be at home getting yelled at by my delusional mother while I clean up after her. I’d be counting down the hours until I could go to work and talk to ponies all over Equestria who want computer advice at three in the morning. I’d be staring out my window wondering how long it’d take to save up and fly away for one weekend a year.”
Through her rant she started walking over to Backburn, looking him right in the eyes, making sure her words reached him. “You don’t like yourself, and I can’t fix that, but I like you. You’re my best friend. I’ve known you longer than anypony else. I’ll likely never strike it big online, but the two of us? Right here? That’s what I wake up and smile about. You’re a crazy, zany mad scientist that brings colour to my boring mundane life, you always have been!”
She sat down on the couch beside him, “I don’t care if what we do fails. I never have. What I care about is that you try. With your weird leaps in logic and tendency to build overly complicated solutions to simple problems – I’ve always enjoyed that part of you. And it’s why whenever anything blows up in your face, I’ll always be right there beside you to clean it up.”
Backburn smiled for a moment before he pulled his legs in and leaned up against her, Dash smiled in return and started to stroke his mane comfortingly.
“Look, Backburn, I don’t know what tomorrow will bring. Everything sucks all the time, and at any moment either of us could be evicted for absolutely no reason. But we’ve made it this far, and we did it as friends. I’m sure that no matter what happens we’ll face it as a team.”
Backburn closed his eyes and enjoyed the support of his friend. She was right, he didn’t need to do anything; he was more than enough by just being her friend. “Thanks.”