The weekend was finally over. Georges sat up in bed as his alarm went off. He stayed up too late last night reading over diary entries. He’d be a bit sluggish for the rest of the day, he thought. After grabbing a bowl of cereal and munching on a few apples, he felt better, more energized. Apples did a lot more for alertness than coffee. He didn’t know why.
He soon trotted off towards Ponyville Elementary, where several young ponies were playing outside. As soon as they saw him trot up, however, they surrounded him, begging to know what the story was for the day. Georges smiled to himself. He’d never felt this appreciated in all his life. Who knew young ponies could be such a source of inspiration?
Georges walked inside and grabbed a seat, as did the young ponies.
“Mr. Patton?” Asked Mac, the colt in the front.
“Yes, Mac?”
“The ponies in the class really like you...we wanted to give you this to thank you..” He said shyly, handing him a small bag. Georges looked inside to see several bits of paper. He pulled one out, looked at it, and tears almost welled up in his eyes. Whether joy or sadness, he wasn’t sure. Every single scrap of paper in that bag, hoof drawn by the ponies, contained assorted pictures of his stories. Some had pictures of the artist with Georges. Every single picture was encouraging to him, yet...something was weird about it, too. He’d never been this good with children...He’d never really had children, either...he put those thoughts away as he returned the scraps to the bag.
“Well, everypony, thank you!” He said, patting Mac on the back specifically. “I’ll be sure to hang them up in my house. Now...who wants to hear another story?”
Everypony in the room raised their hooves and Georges continued on.
“The Manehattan Massacre...” He started. “This one’s special to me. I had several family members get caught up in the incident.” He said, avoiding things like ‘lost their lives’ or ‘died’. “At dusk on November 25th, Luna’s Dark Troopers planned their attack. Celestia was concerned about a future attack, but her head informer, Burly Hoofstrong, told her Luna wouldn’t dare make another move after the plains incident. Just as a precaution, Celestia sent hundreds of troops to assorted cities throughout Equestria. This wouldn’t be enough for Manehattan though...”
***
“Arrows at the ready!” Said Mighty Hoofstrong, signaling the arrow shooters. They lined up, drew their bow, and fired a silent, unforeseeable strike on Manehattan against the dark background of the night. As soon as they heard some yelling from the town square, Luna’s Dark Troopers charged in. Celestia’s Royal Army was caught horribly off-guard and most were slaughtered before they even had a chance to put up a fight. Only about 50 guards remained before the real struggle began. Might Hoofstrong led the charge against those 50 while other assorted platoons raided the buildings.
Hoofstrong swung his sword at the leader of the enemy platoon, slicing his neck and dropping low to the ground to swing it around to chop off another Royal Army member’s legs. He then swung his sword up, lodging it into the stomach of another guard member before violently pulling it out to hoofstomp the head of another guard.
As the struggle continued outside, Georges Patton SR. and his son Eisenhower locked the doors and readied their weapons. They had always been the freaks of the complex for carrying around swords, but it payed off here. Eisenhower, now only 14 and still far too young to understand what was happening here, questioned his dad.
“Son, GET IN THE CLOSET AND DON’T MOVE!” Yelled Georges SR. Eisenhower quickly obeyed and Georges tossed a sword to his oldest son, MacArthur. MacArthur was 22, well able to understand the risks. Georges wife hid with Eisenhower, locking the closet. They were both crying as Georges held his ground, preparing for the incoming attack. Several Poundings on the door erupted as the Dark Troopers tried to burst through. Georges and MacArthur readied themselves, preparing for a fight to the death.
The door soon burst open and several troopers charged in screaming the name of Luna. Georges swung his sword, creating a slice from one’s eye down to his neck. He then stumbled backwards, blocking the other troopers out of blindness. MacArthur charged the stunned group, stabbing two in the stomach before slicing away like a madcolt. He then backed up and looked at his dad. Georges Was panting, holding his ground. One of the ponies in the back called for backup as the front line slowly died, unable to cause a scratch on the Pattons. With that yell, several more Troopers burst in, swords at the ready, screaming the name of Luna once again. Georges and MacArthur worked systematically together to bring down a large number of them before they ransacked the room, driving the two of them apart. Georges couldn’t look at his son. he had to focus on his job at hand. With that thought in mind, he hacked and sliced his way at several troopers. One of them managed to slice a bit of his side, hindering his movement. He couldn’t pay it any mind as he continued to slice and dice through the troopers. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his son fall down to the ground, a sword lodged in his neck. His expression went blank as he gasped for air like a fish without water.
“MAC!!!” Yelled Georges, getting furious. He turned his attention back to the dilemma at hand, but that delay was enough to be his demise. A sword slashed his face horizontally, cutting his sight from both eyes. As he stumbled backward, slicing blindly, he tripped over a couch, hitting his head on the hardwood floor. He heard the silent sobs of his wife and son. If he could look at them, he would, reassuring them that his distraction saved them, but that slash earlier rendered him useless.
“You’re one hardy son of a bitch,” He heard from a voice above him. “but you’re no match for the Dark Troopers. Goodbye.”
Goodbye? That was the most pathetic way to kill him he’d ever heard. regardless, the trooper swung his sword down, cleanly decapitating his head. The trooper stood above his body, satisfied. He was hard to kill, but he was worth it. His ears perked up as he heard something. He turned to face the closet. He trotted over to it, closer inspecting it. He could clearly see two pairs of eyes, a wife and another son, cowering in fear.
“This room’s clear!” he yelled back to the other troopers loitering about. With that, he turned around, trotting off in the opposite direction. He turned to face the closet one more time, nodding. He stomped his hoof to the ground 3 times, looking at them. 3 hours. Don’t come out for 3 hours. With that, he left the room, leaving the mother and child cowardly crying in the closet.
The commotion in the main square didn’t last too long. Hoofstrong made short work of it. After the buildings had been raided, Hoofstrong turned to the leaders who led the squadrons through the buildings.
“How was it?” He asked forcefully.
“I’ve never seen so much resistance, sir. One family took out 15 of our men before we could stop him!” Said the trooper who raided Georges house.
Hoofstrong raised an eyebrow. He wasn’t expecting a resistance.
“My building had a lot of resistance, too...” Said one of the other squadrons.
“I had to completely eradicate mine...” Said another. All agreed with that statement and Hoofstrong paused for a moment, speaking only after gathering his thoughts.
“So let me get this straight...all of you had to eradicate your buildings?”
One pony nodded after another, sharing concerned glances.
“You didn’t leave anypony alive?” Asked Hoofstrong, his voice getting angrier.
They shook their heads.
“So...let’s make sure i have this right. We came here to gather believers...but we wound up killing the entire God Damn city?”
The ponies opened their eyes widely, realizing their mistake. Hoofstrong never cursed...and here we was, angrier than a hornet’s nest.
Hoofstrong twitched a bit. “Who raided the north sector?” He said. The colt who raided Georges’ building raised his hoof. “Come here.” Said Hoofstrong. He silently obeyed. Hoofstrong then quickly drew his sword and killed him, just as quickly as he drew his weapon. The other colts were taken aghast and took a few steps backwards.
“This was a mission, not a massacre.” He said, wiping his sword on the mangled fur of the colt at his hooves. “Do your God Damn job.” With that, he turned around quickly and trotted off in the opposite direction, away from the battle scenes, away from the death, to get some moments to himself. He needed to think. Luna wouldn’t respect this. She wouldn’t like it at all.
***
“...most of the ponies wound up getting pied in the face. Eventually, the Troopers pulled out, leaving the town in shambles. Celestia was furious after this, and she soon retaliated in her own special way. That’s the story for next time though. You get the rest of the afternoon off.”
“But it’s not even 3 yet...we still have another hour...” Said Mac, noting sadly.
“But today’s a holiday, remember? Ponyville inception day!”
“Oh yeah...” He said, sounding defeated.
“Don’t worry. Tomorrow, we’ll have a complete other hour for stories. Promise.” He said, patting Mac on the back. He really liked Mac. He was a good kid. And with that, the young ponies dragged their heels out of the classroom. Georges set off afterwards to have a few words with Cheerilee.