//------------------------------// // The Working-Class Individual // Story: Half-Life: Pastel Paradise // by I aint no damn brownie //------------------------------// Dusk of the third day. 12 days remain. The same day as the previous chapter. I flipped the quesadilla in the pan without using the spatula. I watched as it flew up, and then back down; spinning three times in the air. “Wow, impressive!” Cheerilee said from right next to me. She grabbed some plates from the cabinet and set the table, humming a tune as she did so. “Thank you.” I said, pushing the quesadilla onto a separate plate. “My pancake flipping skills translate well to quesadillas, I suppose.” “I guess so.” Cheerilee agreed, giggling. That put a smile on my face. I like it when she laughs. It’s cute, and I have no qualms in admitting that. I was about to set the pitcher of water on the table when I heard a knock. And then another. Someone was at the door. I quickly put it down and walked to the door, opening it. It was Spike. What does he need? “Hello, Spike.” I said, scratching an ear. “What can I do for you?” He sighed, almost as if he was steeling his nerves. “Okay, look. Twilight may not be on your side.. but I am. I wanna help. I don’t know what’s happening, but I believe you when you say there’s danger. I don’t know what the tartarus is wrong with Twilight, considering she dealt with evil so many Celestia-damn times! Ugh. Look, I’m here to help.” He explained, rambling a bit. I raised an eyebrow. He was here to help? He believed me? Well, that was easy. I won’t have to go to him now. Looks like things are finally comin' up Freeman.. “You’re on my side? Oh.. this is wonderful! We have a chance..” I muttered. He nodded. “Yeah, I’m on your side. So.. what do we do about it?” He asked, putting a claw to his chin. I clicked my tongue, “I don’t actually know. I don’t know how to prevent it, but when it happens I have this.” I said, pulling out my crowbar. I didn’t let it leave my side anymore, not after what I had dubbed 'The crowbar incident.' “A crowbar..?” Spike asked, looking at it. He looked up at me. “Is it some sort of.. super weapon?” “Nope. Just a crowbar.” I sighed. “But it’s pretty useful for caving heads in.” Spike looked a little green. “Didn’t need that thought. Thanks, Gordon.” “Don’t mention it!” Spike rolled his eyes. “Alright. I know a little dragon magic and I can breathe fire. I can study some more about dragon magic, and I can learn how to use my fire better I guess.” Spike said, counting on his fingers. “That’s useful..” I said, nodding my head. “Yeah. Okay, here’s the plan. I’m gonna write to Princess Celestia. Hopefully she can help.” “There’s another Princess?” I asked. He nodded. “There’s four.” Spike explained. I grabbed my head in my hand, groaning. “What the hell is the point of that..?” I asked. Didn’t you need just ONE? “I don’t know, that’s just how it is. Okay, enjoy your dinner or whatever, I’ll write to the Princess. Have a good day man.” He said, walking away with a wave. “See you later.” I said, closing the door. I turned around and walked to the table, pulling out my chair and sitting down. Wait.. we have letter writing supplies here? Why didn’t he..? Whatever. He probably has some sort of magic letter system. Let’s hope the Princess replies. I put my head in my hands. “This is gonna be a nightmare.. but hopefully it’ll be better with Spike helping out.” I muttered. “It’ll be okay, Gordon.” Cheerilee said. I looked up at her. “I believe in you.” I smiled slightly. “Thanks, Cheerilee.” “No problem. Now, let’s eat dinner before it gets cold!” She said, grabbing a quesadilla from the plate in the middle of the table. I nodded, grabbing one for myself. Dawn of the 4th day. 11 days remain. I stepped outside of the house, and threw the door closed behind me. I heard it slam shut, and I started to walk away. Okay.. let’s do this. Let’s get a job. It’s time to stop being a freeloader. I talked with Princess Twilight, so I have no reason to procrastinate anymore. Now.. where should I get a job? I don’t think they have anything related to Theoretical Physics here, this place looks like it’s still in the Middle Ages. Yet.. they have microwaves and ovens.. Theoretical Physicist is not off the table completely, but I shouldn’t get my hopes up. Though.. it’s not like my credentials would work. “MIT Graduate” doesn’t really look too good on my resumé in a world that doesn’t even have MIT. I continued walking through town, ignoring the stares I was getting. Despite the fact that they saw me yesterday, I guess it still didn’t register in their minds that I was real. The weirdest reaction by far was done by a pink pony. She gasped, flew about 5 feet into the air, and disappeared from sight; presumably dashing off in a different direction at incredible speeds, that of which are usually unreachable on foot. It was rather amazing, and left many of my questions unanswered. But.. I should ignore it. I’ll probably have an aneurysm trying to decipher what just happened. I continued my trek through town, looking for the elusive “Help wanted” sign. So far, none had caught my attention. Not until I came across a quaint little shop that had the sign out front. “Help Wanted.” Just what I was looking for. I looked up at the store entrance and saw the sign. Instead of a name, I saw a picture of a quill and a couch. Guess I’m calling this store ‘Quills and Couches’. Or at least until I get the actual name. I opened the door and stepped inside. Off to the left side of the store were the quills, while the couches were on the right. “Welcome to Quills and Sofas! What can I... uh, what are you?” A tan stallion with a combed brown mane came out from behind a curtain. He was sporting what looked like a blue vest. A uniform, if I were to say. He stared at me with both awe and fear. Wait, I still haven’t said anything. “Oh! Uh, I’m a human. Name’s Dr. Gordon Freeman, but you can just call me Gordon. I’m here because I saw the help wanted sign outside..” I trailed off, hoping he would ‘catch my drift’ so to speak. His eyes widened. “Oh, uh.. yes, I am hiring! Are you interested? And it’s nice to meet you! I’m Davenport.” He said, putting out a hoof. I raised an eyebrow, but shook his hoof anyway. “Stupid question, of course you’re interested.” He admitted. “Okay, come to the back with me and we can conduct the interview.” He said, waving a hoof towards the curtain. I followed him in. He sat down at a desk, and I sat down in the chair opposite of him. He pulled out a piece of paper and a quill. “Name?” He asked. “Gordon Freeman.” “How do you spell that?” He asked. Really? “G-O-R-D-O-N F-R-E-E-M-A-N.” I replied. “Thanks. Age?” He asked, scribbling in some more info. “Twenty-seven.” “Any prior work experience?” He asked, writing in some more. “I worked at a Kroger for a couple years until I was able to get a job as a scientist at the Black Mesa Research Facility in New Mexico.” I cringed at the memories, but steeled my resolve. I can’t fail this interview. “Okay.. don’t know what either of those are, but they sound too interesting to be made up. Okay, any allergies?” He asked. “I’m allergic to shellfish.” I said. He nodded, writing it down. “Any other health issues?” “Most likely some form of Post-Traumatic-Stress-Disorder, but that’s undiagnosed.” I said. He nodded. “Any criminal record?” “None.” “Names of your immediate family?” “They’re all dead. Cheerilee is the closest thing I have to a good friend.” That wasn’t true, not in the slightest. We actually celebrated my dad’s 61st birthday 2 months ago. But why would he need to know the names of people that don’t even exist in this world? “What is your address?” He asked. “At the moment, I live at 12 Heartfelt Drive.” I said. Everything in this world is really girly, and it’s kind of off-putting to be honest. “Okay.. where do you see yourself in five years?” He asked. “Doin’ your mom.” I thought to myself. I chuckled inwardly at that. Despite how funny that would be and how I pretty much stole it from Family Guy, I don’t think saying that would earn me any favors. “Probably dead in an alleyway.” I blurted out. That wasn’t much better! His eyes widened, before he started to chuckle. “I like your style.” He said. He nodded, writing it in. “Well, I’d say that’s it. Welcome to the team, Gordon!” He said, putting out a hoof. Wait, what? I’m hired? Really? Isn’t there like, a wait period or something? It took Black Mesa two years to get back to me! I shook his hoof. Water under the bridge, I guess. He stood up and walked to the other side of the desk, opening the curtain and beckoning me to follow. I stood up and did just that. “Welcome to.. Quills and Sofas! We sell.. quills and sofas.” He said sheepishly. “Why those two things?” I asked. He looked at his cutie mark, and then back at me. “Oh.” “Yeah. So, you mentioned prior experience..? I take it this ‘Kroger’ was some kind of shop?” He said. I nodded. “Yep. It’s a grocery store. I stocked shelves for a while, but once I was 21 I was promoted to cashier. I quit 4 years later, and was accepted to Black Mesa.” Bad decision making on my part. “Okay, I think I get it. So you do have experience?” He asked one more time. Dude, come on. “Yes, I have experience.” I said, groaning inwardly. C’mon man, I said that like eight times. He smiled. “Great! Oh, look! There’s a customer! Make a sale! I’ll be watching..” He said, and walked back to the curtain. The customer walked in. It was a pink pony with a cranberry mane. “Welcome to Quills and Sofas! How may I help you?” I asked, walking slowly over to them. I gave them a small smile. They looked up at me in fright, but calmed down when they saw that I didn’t intend to harm them. “Uh.. h-hi. I’m looking for a new sofa?” They said, looking around the store. The voice was feminine; this was a girl. “Of course. Anything catch your eye?” I asked. Come on, Gordon. Make the plays. “Uhm, not really.. what do you recommend?” Shit! Act natural! “Well, I’ve sat on every sofa in this store at least once. I’d say one of the most comfy ones here..” I looked around for a good sofa. I spotted one near the window that had a weird-looking back cushion, but it looked good enough. “Is this one.” I said, pointing at it. “If you look past the weird head-frame, you can truly the feel the care that was put into its production. The cotton is soft and warm, perfect for a night of blankets and hot chocolate. Or, if you’re the type, a nice glass of wine on a Saturday. It’s a lovely chair. If I could afford it, I would bring it home with me.” “What do you mean, afford it? How expensive is it..?” She asked, slowly getting more worried. Smooth moves, smart guy! “Oh, no. You misunderstand. All I have to my name is one bit. That’s why I have this job.” I admitted. Her eyes widened slightly, but she nodded. “That’s unfortunate.” She said. “Semantics.” That’s not the correct use of that word. “So, try it out! See if it fits your quota for ‘Good couches’. Vs. ‘Shit couches.’” I said, pointing at it with an open hand. She giggled slightly, nodded, and hopped on. “Wow.. this is really comfy! You got yourself a deal, Mister!” She said, standing up quickly. ...okay, that was easier than I thought. My smile faltered, but I quickly forced it to come back. “Lovely! Come over here and we’ll exchange credits for goods and services.” I joked. I don’t think she got that. The price tag of the sofa was 30 bits. I have no idea how much that actually costs. She paid and left the store, promising a return with a wagon to carry the furniture. Davenport stepped out from behind his curtain. “Gordon, I don’t know how you did it. You’re a natural!” “Eh, well.. I kinda just went with my gut.” I admitted, scratching my head. “Well, I’m glad you did! Look.. I’ll let you off early today. You start an actual work day in two days at 7:00 AM, sharp. You don’t start tomorrow because of the mandatory ‘Weekly day off’ bull. I decided to have it on Monday because, well, nopony likes a Monday. Anyway, be there or be square, heh. I’ll see you on Tuesday Gordon.” He said. I nodded. “Thanks, Bossman. Have a good day.” I said, waving to him as I left the shop. “Please, just call me Davenport!” He yelled after me. Alright. I walked home slowly, cherishing the warm sun’s rays. It was a great day today. Have I already said that? Even if I did, it doesn’t really matter. Today WAS a great day. I opened the door to Cheerilee’s house and walked inside, closing the door behind me. I saw her reading a book on the couch. She looked at me when I walked in. “Ah, Gordon! How did it go?” She said, taking off her glasses. “I got a job. I’m no longer a freeloader. I am now.. a Free Man.” She giggled at the pun. “Congratulations!” She said, walking over to me and giving me a hug. I hugged back. KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK Damn it, what now? I let go of Cheerilee and walked to the door. I opened it, and was prepared to be snarky, but I saw that it was Spike. I bit my tongue. “Huff.. Gordon.. read this.. huff..” He was breathing heavily, and holding a letter. Did he run from the castle all the way here? That’s quite the distance.. I grabbed the letter from his hands and unfolded it. Dear Sir Spike.. I regret to inform you that the Princesses are unable to fulfill your requests. They are currently on a diplomatic journey to the Griffon kingdom until 2 weeks from now. I apologize for any trouble this may cause you. Sincerely, Princess Celestia’s Advisor, Jeeves. Jeeves? How cliché. No, wait, that’s not important. PRINCESS CELESTIA IS IN THE GRIFFON KINGDOM FOR 2 MORE WEEKS?! SHE WON’T BE BACK HERE IN TIME! I clenched my fists in anger. Fuck my ass! ‘Odds stacked against me?’ Yeah, FUCKING RIGHT. “We’re fucked. Plain and simple.” I muttered. Spike nodded. “Yeah.. yeah we are. Sigh. Look, I’ll go ask some friends for help. Rainbow Dash will definitely help, she’s the Element of Loyalty after all.. I don’t know about anypony else though. We’ll see.” I looked at Spike, and put my hand on his shoulder. I looked directly into his eyes. “Thank you. So much, man. You’ve done a great job so far.” I said. He blushed slightly and nodded. “This is my home. I’m not just gonna sit back and wait for everything to go to shit when I can do something about it. I’m not gonna be a Humdrum again.” He said, positively dripping with resolve and determination. “Humdrum?” I asked cluelessly. He sighed, and waved his hands. “Not important. I’m- no. We’re gonna save the world.. and I’m not taking failure. No matter what.” He said. I smirked. It’s gonna be a good day today. I can feel it.