//------------------------------// // Turndown for What?! // Story: A Few Highs and Lows... // by Some Leech //------------------------------// Later that morning, after helping clean up, Anon had trudged into the living room to recuperate from his meal - sure, he may not have been thrilled with his choice of breakfast, but it had left him extraordinarily full and satisfied. Apparently at some point, while resting on his sofa, he’d slipped into a calorically-induced coma. While he couldn’t say exactly when or for how long he’d dozed, he awoke to his leg being gently nudged. “Oi,” Nord grunted, poking his thigh, “A'm needin' yer hulp.” “Wha…” he groaned, unsteadily pushing himself up.  Rubbing his face, questioning if he should just crawl back into bed, he was met with an unexpected sight. With a pair of spectacles balanced on her snout, wearing a rather professional looking button-up shirt, the mammoth mare gazed down at him. Exactly where she’d acquired the dapper getup was a mystery, though it gave her a professional air and suited her remarkably well. Grumbling to himself, he hauled himself from the couch. “What’s going on?” “Dae ye ken whit a stock exchange is?” she asked, cocking her head. “Stock exchange?” Anon repeated, recognizing the two words. “Aye, ah heard ponies ur trying tae mak' dosh thare - micht hae a few ideas fur thaim,” she explained, as if he could understand her perfectly. Though he hadn’t the foggiest idea how she could help anyone with investments or marketing advice, Anon shrugged. “Come on, I’ll show you where it is.” One of his larger concerns for her was finding something to keep her busy - preferably something involving making money. As things were, his meager income from working at the bowling alley would be keeping them afloat. He had no doubt that she could get a job that fit her bizarre and unique skill set, but finding a fitting career for her would be tricky. In addition to the Castle of Friendship, the School of Friendship, the Cafe of Friendship, and the Paper Mill of Friendship, Twilight had recently constructed a Stock Market of Friendship near the heart of town. He wasn’t sure what the teeming masses of ponies trading commodities had to do with friendship, but that wasn’t his problem. If the Princess wanted to promote a healthy economy, that was her prerogative. With nothing better to do, hoping the walk would help him shake his lethargy, he walked to the door and waved for his guest to follow. If nothing else, seeing how she’d react to a hoard of excited business-ponies scamper about and screaming to buy or sell this or that, may be entertaining. With his guest turned housemate in tow, he led the way into town and towards the newly erected commercial hub. Blazing overhead, the mid-morning sun was as pleasant as ever, while the pair casually trotted to the little village. With most ponies already at work or attending classes for the day, the streets were relatively vacant and quiet - that was, until they drew nearer to their destination. Before they could even see the building, the sound of stomping hooves and raised voices caught the man’s ear. Rounding a corner, the pair got their first good look at the place. Designed almost like a convention center, with ponies scampering in and out the front door, the structure was nearly as large as the town hall. The exchange was definitely one of the busier places in town, even if he didn’t fully grasp what went on there, but that only piqued his interest. Walking alongside Nord, he pressed through the throng and into the entrance. Though the place was pretty active on the outside, the inside was absolute chaos. Various creatures were screaming and damn near fighting, paperwork was flying everywhere, and scrolls magically teleported to and from the facility in droves. Honestly, he couldn’t make heads or tails of what was going on; thankfully, that didn’t seem to be a problem for Nord. Stepping forward and coolly looking around, the mare raised one hoof, cleared her throat, and issued one of the most resounding stomps he’d ever seen. The marble shattered under her keratinous appendage, a thunderous crack rang through the building, and the room fell deathly quiet. Everyone and everything seemed to freeze, as all eyes turned to the giantess. “Oi!” she boomed, leering at anyone who dare meet her eye, “A've git something tae say.” Not a single soul spoke or budged, too shocked or fearful of their enormous visitor, though everyone present gave her their undivided attention. “If yi'll waant tae mak' dosh, buy peat, barley, iron, 'n' wool,” she commanded, sweeping a forehoof towards the masses. “Whit urr ye waiting fur? Dae it noo!” No sooner had she issued her nonsensical demand than the room became a maelstrom of activity. The magical correspondence doubled - no tripled, as messages appeared and disappeared from the air. Ponies teleported to and fro, the intensity of the shouting increased, and it sure as shit like all hell was breaking loose. Periodically, over the din of the crowd, voices could be heard yelling for the items Nord had so magnanimously suggested. “Hah,” she laughed, sidling up to the man, “Ah knew it wid wirk! They'll a' be rich afore this efternoon!” “Huh,” Anon grunted, astounded that her plan had worked.  As hectic and inexplicable as it seemed, Nord’s words had clearly made an impact with the entrepreneurial equines. If they were lucky, maybe one of the capitalistic ponies would offer her a job after this! The moment the hopeful thought crossed his mind, things suddenly and unexpectedly took an alarming turn - literally. Sirens blared, bells started ringing, and warning lights flashed frantically. The energy of the room, though still bewildering, became one of panic. Unlike the excited and competitive voices of before, ponies wailed and grieved some great and unknowable misfortune. It was as bizarre as it was incomprehensible, although Anon suspected what had set it all off. He was no financial expert, so he was left to assume his guest’s suggestion had initiated some great economic calamity. The lamentations of the brokers warred with the klaxons, leaving Nord and Anon as islands of calm in a sea of madness. Turning to his companion, the man brought his muzzle to the mare’s ear. “I thought you said you know what you’re doing?” he hissed, barely audible over the ruckus. “Whit?” she balked. “Peat, barley, iron, 'n' wool ur important! Ye cannae bide comfortably or mak' cratur wi'oot thaim!” she blithely insisted, jabbing a hoof to his chest. “Thank goodness ah broke th' speirins tae thaim. They'd be in trauchle wi'oot me!” Unsure of what she’d said, or why she seemed so pleased with herself, Anon concluded that she had no idea what she’d done - for fuck’s sake, even he didn’t fully understand what she’d done. He knew things were bad, but he didn’t realize just how bad they were until a golden and cobalt flash caught his eye. He gulped, spotting the diarchs appear amidst the pandemonium. He’d only ever met Celestia and Luna once, but their presence signaled that things were far, far worse than he’d imagined. As the sibling alicorns consoled the ponies, doing their best to put out the figurative and literal fires which had been set, his blood ran cold. Before the siblings figured out who was to blame, he and his colossal companion really, really needed to see themselves out. “We really should be leaving now,” he muttered, tugging at her shirt. A confused look crossed Nord’s face, as she sighed heavily and turned to follow him. Though she didn’t appear too upset, she was obviously displeased with the development. It was the umpteenth job prospect she’d unintentionally bungled and, sadly, the prospects for finding her suitable work were growing increasingly dim. Anon really did feel bad for her; it wasn’t her fault that she spoke gibberish and was a walking disaster! Reaching out, resting an arm over her shoulders, he patted her withers. “Come on, let’s get out of here…” While he really wouldn’t have minded going home and relaxing for the rest of the day, the tempestuous experience struck a nerve. She really was a good pony, so far as he could tell, and he’d be damned if he’d let her day be ruined after she’d made him breakfast. It didn’t matter if she was like a bull in a china shop, or that her cooking was rather questionable, or that she’d broken his clock. With Celestia as his witness, he would help her find a gig that fit!