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// An Iffy Investment 
// Story: Mechanized Misadventures 
// by Some Leech 
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With a spring in his step, grinning like an absolute idiot, Anon strolled down the sidewalk. The morning had been off to a very atypical, albeit productive start. Though he absolutely abhorred dealing with attorneys, and equally loathed the bureaucratic hellscape of legal processes, recent developments had forced his hand.

Caressing a neatly folded piece of paper in his pocket, his smile grew broader. Ordinarily speaking, he would have been at work hours ago - that said, employment wasn’t as much of a priority as it had once been. With his recent windfall of hitting the lottery, he had enough cash to live a cushy, very relaxed life for the rest of his days, but he had grander aspirations than just being a loaf.

While the prospect of becoming some bachelor playboy did have some appeal, he felt reasonably certain that engrossing himself with hedonistic affairs would burn through his newly acquired riches with lightning speed - as such, he’d decided to make a small investment. He’d always led a relatively modest life, taking joy from the smaller things, and he wouldn’t mind keeping it that way.

Rounding a corner and lifting his gaze, he spotted the scrapyard. He didn’t have to go to his job - hell, there wasn’t much he had to do at all, yet it was a routine he’d become quite fond of over the years. Steadily approaching the chain-link fence, he stopped at an intersection and squinted. The largest structure, if it could be called that, on the expansive slot was a monumental mound of broken appliances and wagons, although there was something peeking above the fence.

Spinning in place, turning on a quartet of long, pliable legs, Fortuna surveyed the surroundings like a bizarre lighthouse. The sight gave him a moment for pause, as he wondered what in the hell she was looking for. More often than not, barring the occasional visit from local colts and fillies, she was content to stay beneath the office’s overhang.

Looking both ways and crossing the street, he hastened his pace. So long as she wasn’t suffering from some sort of major malfunction, she was probably fine - probably, but seeing her acting so peculiarly set his nerves on edge. As she spun in his direction, squinting down at him, she hastily and disquietingly lumbered toward the gate.

Waving with one hand, while digging his keys out of his pocket, he reached the entrance and attempted to unlock the padlocked chain securing the dump - unfortunately for him, his friend wasn’t willing to wait. Striding over the wheeled gate, she leaned in and nearly tackled him - well, as close to tackling as an animatronic housed in a booth could manage. He stumbled back and flung his arms towards her, praying he wasn’t about to be crushed.

“Traveler, I was so worried,” she began, reaching through the front window of her confines to hug him.

Reluctantly returning her embrace, he patted her back. “I’m only a little bit late - seriously, it’s nothing to be worried about.”

“It’s not the fact that you’re two hours and thirty-eight minutes late that has me concerned, it’s that the winds of change are heavy,” she counted, pulling away. “While I may not be able to put my hoof on exactly what is awry, I can say with certainty that something big has happened.”

“Well as long as it doesn’t involve a catastrophe, I think we’ll be alright,” he chuckled, offering her a reassuring smile.

Dipping to his right, he weaved between two of her tentacle-like appendages, shoved the gate open, and strolled inside. The view from the entryway was nothing particularly interesting, having looked at it more times than he dared count. Heaps of scrap, the little office building, and the machinery used to sort detritus sat at the back of the yard were all right where he’d left them, but looking at them felt different this time - not because anything about them had changed, but because of a completely new element at play.

“Hey,” he grunted, peering up at his friend, “come over here, I got something important I want to talk to you about.”

Without waiting for her reply, he marched over to a clearing near the center of the yard. While he could have spoken with her anywhere, giving her plenty of room to maneuver was a prudent and much safer option than conversing near anything that could get damaged by her tetrad of sinuous limbs. It wasn’t like she tried to break stuff, but there was a very real chance that his news could cause her to have a fit.

Stopping at the dead center of the open area, he wheeled around, placed his hands on his hips, and watched her lope nearer. It was only when she was a dozen paces away did she withdraw her limbs and ease herself back to the ground. He was still a bit annoyed that she’d concealed her mobility for so long, considering it could have spared his back and legs on a number of occasions, yet he saw no reason to dwell on it.

As he cleared his throat and stepped over to her, he sank one hand into his pocket. “So I need to ask you a small favor.”

Instantly crossing her forelegs over her chest, she turned her nose up and looked away. “Traveler, how many times do I have to tell you, I don’t give free fortunes.”

“Not that,” he groused, doing his level best not to smile. “I just need you not to freak out.”

Staring over at him, she blinked. “I’ve seen things you wouldn’t believe: oceans of slime caused by the Smooze, I watched goddesses duel by the Canterlot gates. All those…moments will be lost in time - like tears in the-”

“Yeah yeah yeah,” he cut her off, waving his free hand, “I get it, you’ve seen some shit. What I’m asking is for you to just relax, take a deep breath, and keep your cool.”

“But I don’t breathe,” she matter-of-factly stated, cocking a brow.

Rolling his eyes, he pulled the piece of paper from his pants and handed it over to her. “Check this out.”

Delicately plucking the slip from his hand, her eyes played over the stationery. He’d been waiting weeks for this day to come, and the moment did not disappoint. A jitter crept into her forelimbs, a dull groan emanated from her framework, and her jaw hit the ground - literally detached from her head and bounced off her housing to land on the dirt. Stepping closer, he stooped over, retrieved the mechanical mandible, brushed it off, and offered it back to her.

“That bad, huh?” he snickered, knowing good and god damned well that the news was anything but bad.

Snatching and reequipping her jaw, experimentally opening and closing her mouth a few times, she turned her full attention back to the man. “W-w-w-w-when did you…”

“This morning,” he replied, reaching out and tapping at the notarized stamp at the bottom of the paper. “Took longer to go through all the red tape than it did to negotiate the damn thing, but it just went through this morning - that’s why I was late.”

It was true. While actually striking the deal had only taken a few minutes, given the obscene offer he’d given to his boss, all the administrative bullshit had been a nightmare. Being a non-native Equestian had never really bothered him, until he’d discovered how much of a pain in the ass it made legal matters - still, the headaches had been well worth the trouble. With a proud smirk, he carefully took the letter, refolded it, and tucked it back into his pocket.

“You bought the scrapyard?!” she bleated, apparently shocked by his purchase. “Anon - I mean Traveler, you could have left this place for a brighter future!”

“Yeah, true,” he smoothly hummed, “but where’s the fun in that? As crazy as it sounds, this place feels like a second home to me - for fuck’s sake, if I’d never walked through that gate and applied for my job, I never would have met you! Seeing as how I need something to do with myself, I figured I’d just promote myself to owner and keep doing what I’ve been doing, but there are two big changes that I’m gonna make.”

Leaning back, shooting a fretful glance over at the Crushinator-9000, she wrung her forehooves together. “You’re not going to get rid of anything ~ are you?”

“Pfffft - nah,” he laughed, waving a hand to dismiss her concerns. “The first thing is that I’m the boss of this place; don’t worry though, I don’t plan on doing anything differently - well, other than maybe sorting things more efficiently. Secondly, and this is the important part, congratulations, you’re hired.”

As he thrust his open hand toward her, her eyes widened. “I’m…I’m hired?”

“Considering you keep me company, help me keep an eye on things, and sometimes lend a hand - er - hoof, I thought it only right to give you a cut of the profits,” he smugly proclaimed.

“I…I…” she whispered, her faintly electronic voice so faint that he could barely hear it, “I don’t know what to say.”

“Well,” he mused, leaning in and wrapping an arm around her shoulders, “maybe you could start with, ‘Thank you so much, I accept’?”

“Of course I accept!” she merrily declared, snaring him in a hug.

Holding her close, he ran his fingers through her mane. “Just don’t get too excited and explode or anything.”

“Oh!” she quipped, rearing back and pushing him away. “Traveler, here,” she continued, reaching down and pulling a fortune from her slot, “'tis the least I can do!”

As he took the proffered card, turning the slip over in his hands, his smile wavered ever so slightly. “This better not…” he trailed off, looking over four simple, somewhat ominous words.

Prepare for unforeseen consequences…

“Well that’s just peachy,” he huffed, balling up and discarding what he sure as shit hoped wasn’t a menacing prophecy. “Anyways, yeah, you ready to help me open for the day?”

Snapping a crisp salute, instantaneously producing and propping herself up on her legs, she loped over to the entrance and flipped the sign from Closed to Open. He’d spent nearly half of his fortune to buy the dump, after the royal taxes had taken a considerable chunk out of his winnings, but it had been worth every penny. If there was one thing that life had taught him, it was that money wasn’t everything and that friends were worth more than their weight in gold…