//------------------------------// // Annoying Artisan // Story: Pipsqueak & His Hats // by Horatiojones //------------------------------// After waking, Pipsqueak trotted into his walk-in hat room and considered his many glorious headpieces. “My hats, my most magical hats, which one of you shall I wear today? A tophat? The hat of a gentlecolt, or a debonair master spy. Nay, tis not the season for such things, though I do look so dashing in it. A cowpony hat? I think I might be accused of copy catting; the Apples do so play that part well. A beret? Now that is interesting. Yes, I think today, I shall be a most wondrous artiste!” the young pony spouted, picking up each hat in turn, until finally setting on the simply black number from Prance. Giggling with coltish joy, he placed it upon his head, and so began his transformation. A fluffy white shirt draped itself around his body, appearing magically from the air. A long thin brush materialized and tucked itself behind his small ears, his flanks found themselves covered with saddle bags, filled with art supplies. Admiring his new appearance in the mirror, Pip smiled at himself, and then ventured forth, to the kitchen. Sitting down, he found his mother had prepared him a breakfast of Fruit Loops. Admiring their colours, the young colt was hit with inspiration. Taking each differing colour, he created grand circles from the loops. Apparently pleased, he looked at the multi-coloured rings. Letting them float in the milk, he announced to the dining room “I call this simplistic post-modernist, ‘Cereal One’." Leaping from his chair, he tore out of the room, and bestowed his presence on the outside world. “The Great Pip the Artiste is going to school!” he bellowed before trotting quietly to the nearby primary school. Nodding to his fellow students, he calmly sat at his seat in the middle of the classroom, waiting for their teacher to arrive. Looking to his side, he saw his good acquaintance Rumble, trying to acquire his attention. “Yes, Rumble, what is it?” the artist enquired, haughtily asking the larger colt what he wanted. “What are you today Pip?” Rumble asked. Tapping his hooves together, he waited with excitement for his best friends answer. Finding out what magic hat Pip was wearing was usually the highlight of Rumble’s day. “Why? Is it not obvious that I am an Artiste of the highest order?” Pipsqueak admonished calmly, pointing to his accruements. Rumble nodded in agreement, this was indeed one of the easier to guess ensembles that his friends had worn since they had known each other. Rumble now found himself worrying for he was sure that artist Pip would be quite a handful for their teacher to handle, whom he had just noticed arriving. The young mare, Miss Blooming, had just arrived, her presence indicated by the large purple and white presence at the door. “Good morning class” greeted Miss Blooming happily to her pupils, as she walked across to her room to her desk. Seeing Pip, her eyes flashed, showing something akin to fear, before returning to their normal state. Unbeknownst to her class of young colts and fillies, what young Master Squeak was wearing was usually the decider on what the class would be doing that day. From Pip’s appearance, she had instantly decided that whatever they did today would be outside, far away from the classroom, or anything else for that matter. “Today class, we are going to go on a nature walk. Come along now, everybody get a buddy, grab your lunch, and let’s go!” the teacher said cheerfully, herding her class out the door. Rumble and Pip quickly partnered up as they walked from the school, and headed towards the edge of town. Trotting slowly, Rumble found himself for the most part ignored by Pipsqueak as the brown and white colt jumped from place to place looking for inspiration. He leapt up behind a green and purple dragon, picked him up with unbelievable strength, and placed him down next to a large flower, higher than even the dragon’s head. Producing a camera from his saddle bags, he clicked picture after picture of the dragon, demanding the reptile pose for him. “Hey what’s the big idea?” the dragon questioned, grumbling, snorting out small clouds of smoke. He made to grab the small colt, but found himself reaching for empty air. “My art must be shown to the world!” shouted Pipsqueak as he ran from the enraged critic of his art, dousing the dragon in red paint as he did. Hiding himself amongst the group of schoolfoals, he complained to Rumble “Faust, I have the worst luck with getting good models." “Don’t swear Pipsqueak, or I shall have to give you a detention.” Miss Blooming scolded him, having overheard his statement. Pipsqueak looked at the dirt under his hooves demurely, before brightening on seeing the colour of the ground. He reached back to his bags, and pulled out a large jar of glitter, before dumping it upon his body, and rolling around in the slightly muddy ground. Standing up, he allowed all those around him to marvel in his brown sparklyness. “I call this Neo Romantic, New Age body art, ‘Shining Dirt’. Bask in its glory.” he said as he walked in a small circle. Showing his artwork off to his classmates, all of whom clapped and shouted encouragements to him, Pipsqueak found himself plucked from the air by the scruff of his, now muddy, fluffy white shirt. “Young stallion, what do you think you are doing? I am sorry, but I think you should just go home now. I can’t let you walk around all day covered in mud, you’ll catch your death.” Miss Blooming scolded him through a mouthful of Pipsqueak’s shirt. Reaching to a small bag she had brought along with her, she wrote the young colt a note, to explain to any adults that might be concerned about him, and then set the small colt on his way. Breathing a sigh of relief as she watched him go, she turned and led the rest of the colts and fillies further along the path. Pipsqueak raced of, this wasn’t the first time he had been let out early, and probably wouldn’t be the last. Regardless, he now had more time to express his artistic talent. Dabbing his paintbrush in blue paint, he began flicking it around as he travelled back to his home. Anypony he met who questioned this was swiftly beaten down with a shout of “this is art you cretin.” Eventually reaching his home, he began decorating his room, throwing great tubs of paint at the walls, blues, greens, yellows, browns even, all across the place. Eventually he decided his last great achievement of the day was finished. “My greatest work, an abstract expressionism using fully chromatic colours that I shall call!” Pip began, pausing for dramatic effect. Removing his beret to increase the seriousness of his statement, he caused his whole ensemble to disappear from whence it came. As this occurred, his face changed from one of great joy to extreme displeasure. “For the love of Faust, what have I done?” he shouted, before collapsing to the floor and weeping. My first attempt at Random Comedy. Please, tell me what you think