Characters: Madden, Hard Knocks
Setting: The Badlands
The Pegasus’s sea-blue hooves dragged across the cracked, reddish gravel. The merciless heat had slicked his silvery mane and tail with sweat, and his wings drooped on either side of his body, too overworked to carry his weight. His wide sunglasses provided some relief from the glare of the noonday sun... on the side that still had a lense, at any rate.
“Dodge can’t be much further,” he muttered. Thirst and the harsh, dry air stole much of the rolling, smooth timbre from his voice.
“You’ve said that f-fourteen times, Madden,” panted the fuchsia Earth Pony stallion following along behind him.
The Earth Pony’s toned hide was speckled with nicks and burns and scrapes, none of them serious. Despite the fatigue slowing his stride he moved with firmness and finality.
“Don’t give up now, Hard Knocks!” said the Pegasus with forced resolve. “We’ve gotta think about the other passengers!”
Hard Knocks paused and turned to look back the way they’d come.
Their hoofprints trailed off toward the horizon, where a thin plume of smoke marked the site of the crash.
He turned back and grumbled: “You’ve said THAT eighteen times.”
“So...” offered Madden a few minutes later, “do you think there are any Dragons around? I remember hearing that this is a big habitat for them.”
“Nahh,” said Hard Knocks. “Not right now, anyway. You Pegasi oughta spend more time reading the Almanac and less time reading the stars. Next Dragon Migration’s not for a few months.”
“Oh. Uh, okay,” said Madden, finally at a loss for further conversation.
The pair plodded on in silence for a time, conserving energy.
As they came to the top of a long, sloping hill, they caught sight of the glimmering of something far in the distance.
“S-See?” said Madden as if he’d been sure all along. “Only a little wh-while longer. now!”
Hard Knocks snorted in an almost total absence of delight.
* * *
The desert moon was huge and silvery in the night sky by the time the two travellers trotted into Dodge.
They made what passed for a gallop straight toward the local saloon.
They both staggered up to the bar.
“W-Water,” wheezed Hard Knocks.
“And s-salt,” added Madden. After a pause he added: “M-Maybe some lemon?”
Hard Knocks kept his chin resting on the bar, but fixed his companion with an irritated sidelong glare.
“What?” he replied. “Vitamin C is important!”
Served, the two drank in desperate gulps. They didn’t pause for breath until midway through their third mugs.
“So... where you boys come from?” asked the bartender, a lean and well-coiffed Earth Pony with a black waxed moustache.
“Blimp crash,” said Hard Knocks flatly.
“Cloudsdale, by way of Canterlot,” added Madden. The confident tone that had made his career as a master of ceremonies was returning to his voice. “Well, I am. I think he’s from Ponyville. We were on board the Indefatigable’s maiden voyage, you see.”
The bartender stared blankly.
“Great big airship,” continued Madden. “Launched from Canterlot. It was quite the event! Prince Blueblood himself was there! And then, one accident with Wheat Flambée later, we were going do-o-o-o-o-o-own!” Madden drew the word out as if his voice had an echo.
“Mm-hm,” answered the bartender, as if stories of crashing airships were the most mundane part of his evening.
“So, we’ll need some Ponies with first aid supplies, maybe a bucket brigade, tools for moving debris the whole deal!” Madden waved a front hoof outward in an expansive gesture. “Won’t be hard to find -- just look for the smoke out in the badlands!”
“Ohhh,” said the bartender. “Yeah, that’s all taken care of. That smoke was easy to see, even from all the way over here. We sent out some folks HOURS ago. If’n you’d stayed where you were, you’d be talkin’ to ‘em right now!”
Madden’s jaw dropped.
Hard Knocks pressed his forehead to the bar and let out a long, low, miserable sigh.
“So, uh, anything else we can do for ya?” asked the bartender.
“...You got anything to eat?” asked Hard Knocks glumly.
* * *
The next morning, Madden and Hard Knocks stepped out into the fresh air and took in the sight of the rustic town’s daily routine.
A pale, finely-dressed Earth Pony mare with a striking red mane halted in mid-step as she passed them by.
“My, my!” she said appraisingly. “You boys here lookin’ for work? My... cherry orchard... could always use another set of strong legs.”
“Y-Y-Y-YES!” said Madden, his volume rising in tandem with his wings.
“NO,” interjected Hard Knocks. “We’ve still got a TON of ground to cover before we get back to Ponyville. You don’t wanna use up all your energy...” Hard Knocks frowned. “picking cherries.”
The mare tittered behind a front hoof.
“B-But, I’m back in flying condition!” protested Madden piteously. “I’ll just FLY back to Cloudsdale later on!” He flapped his wings for emphasis.
“The Pony Hell you are!” growled Hard Knocks. “YOU got me into this mess, YOU’RE going to help me drive the hoof-car all the way back to Ponyville!”
Madden’s wings drooped. He sighed. “....Fine.”
“Aww. Pity. I’ll just leave you two to it, then,” said the mare, and sashayed off.
* * *
“This is almost as fast as flying!” said Madden cheerfully. “The worst is over!”
The hoof-car was well-made and well-maintained, and despite the brutal monotony of its operation the pair made excellent time on the rails... until late afternoon.
As brakes shrieked and a whistle howled, the 3:10 to Appleoosa smashed through the hoof-car like so much tissue paper.
Having leaped aside with seconds to spare, Hard Knocks and Madden tumbled to the ground on either side of the tracks, covered in dust and burrs.
Hard Knocks rolled off of his back and stumbled to his hooves. He shook his head to clear it, fixed Madden with a narrow-eyes stare and muttered:
“I hate you so much.”
* * *
The quarray eel fought to keep its mouth closed. A Pony’s desperate screams escaped from between its teeth every time its jaws parted.
Eventually, Hard Knocks fought his way free and fell to the ash-grey stone. The frustrated eel twisted around and returned to its tunnel.
Hard Knocks crawled over to a patch of wicked thorn bushes and began the painstaking process of extricating Madden from its grasp.
“Okay,” said the upside-down Pegasus, “Even though the acoustics are great in this gorge... I guess they WEREN’T ready for some hoofball!”
* * *
Ponyville’s bucolic skyline had never looked so good.
Hard Knocks felt tears well up in his magenta eyes as the scrub gave way to lush emerald grass and the road grew smooth and hoof-worn.
“We made it...!” he whispered in awe. “We actually made it!”
Madden nodded in agreement next to him, but then looked up. He suddenly jerked to the side.
Hard Knocks opened his mouth to ask a question, but a falling pile of undelivered bric-a-brac cut him off in mid-sentence.
The empty drawers, barrels of pickles and odd socks came first, followed by a vintage player-piano and a hoofful of assorted mane-brushes.
As consciousness slowly fled from Hard Knocks, he heard a foalish voice from above cry out:
“Woops! Look out below!”
* * *
Hard Knocks awoke to the sight of a pair of friendly blue eyes framed by a purple and white striped mane and a soft-featured pink face.
“You had quite a rough time!” said the nurse. “Don’t worry, though. A month or three in that body-cast, and you’ll be right as rain!”
Hard Knocks became aware of the dull aches permeating his body, and the thick plaster restraining him from head to tail.
Oh well, he thought to himself, I could use the rest.
Plus... at least I don’t have to deal with an annoying blue Pegasus ever again!
THE END ~ 62 minutes
