Now that we had a goal in place, as well as a means of getting to it, all that was required was to put it into action. There was still time left that day, so we should be able to get in a job or two. The only question was, where to start?
Apple Bloom suggested Sweet Apple Acres. There was always something that needed to be done around the farm, and with winter coming on, Applejack and Big Mac might need help getting things ready for the cold weather. It sounded reasonable, so we set course for the Acres. Sweetie Belle, on the other hand, suggested helping Fluttershy, so she took Scootaloo and Dinky with her.
***
Sure enough, when Apple Bloom and I arrived, the farm was teeming with activity. Big Macintosh was hauling a wagon full of apple-filled barrels, while Applejack was bucking more apples down from the trees. Granny Smith was standing by and supervising.
As soon as we approached, a dog started barking, and Winona, the pup who had found us in the Everfree Forest, bounded over and tackled me, smothering my face with doggy kisses. Apple Bloom giggled at the sight.
“Ha ha! Easy, girl! Down!” I said.
Somepony whistled, and Winona snapped to attention.
“Winona! C’mere, girl!”
It was Granny Smith, and Winona took leave of me to sit obediently by her side.
“Hey there, youngins!” called the elder Apple upon sighting us. “Haven’t seen ya lately, Dave.”
“Hello, Granny Smith,” I said. “We were looking to see if we could help out around the farm.”
“Well, call me pleased as a polka-dot persimmon!” said Granny. “We’d be glad to have a few extra hooves helpin’ out. We’re gettin’ a start on storin’ away food for the winter. Think y’all can handle that?”
“Sure we can, Granny!” said Apple Bloom.
“Good! Go talk with Applejack, and she’ll get you youngsters set up.”
So we directed our attention to Applejack, who was loading her filled apple buckets into another wagon.
“Howdy!” she said, spying us. “What’s up?”
“Granny Smith said we should talk to you about helping out,” I said. “We’re looking for a few odd jobs, so we can afford to put together a racing car for the Junior Grand Prix.”
“Well, that’s just dandy!” said Applejack. “Ah’d be happy to have y’all helpin’ out. Now, lemme see...”
She looked us over, scratching her chin with her hoof.
“How does 10 bits each sound for both of ya?”
“Sounds great!” I said. “Right, Apple Bloom?”
“Yeah!”
“Swell!” said Applejack. “Apple Bloom, you can help me with buckin’ the trees, and Dave, you take the full tubs and barrels and load them into Big Mac’s wagon whenever he needs a refill.”
“Aye-aye, captain,” I said, saluting.
Apple Bloom walked off with Applejack to the next tree while I hefted up a full tub of apples. Thankfully, Big Mac was coming back around, because my arms were starting to kill me.
“I’m here to help you out, Big Mac,” I said, heaving the tub into the wagon and pushing it to the far back.
“Great,” said Big Mac. “Ah’m glad AJ took mah advice and started letting friends help her out. She can be a bit of a stubborn mule sometimes.”
Just as I was fetching another tub of apples, I could have sworn I heard the bray of a mule.
“No offense,” said Big Mac, looking to his right, and, unbelievably, there was a literal gray mule standing there. Where the heck had he come from?!
“None taken,” said the mule, in an easygoing voice, and then he just left, as if no explanation was needed for his random appearance. I just stood there, mouth hanging open.
“You wanna get a move on, Dave?” Big Mac asked. “We don’t wanna lollygag.”
“Er, right, sure, sorry,” I said, hastening to get back to work, though I was still befuddled. That kind of stuff was acceptable from a pony like Pinkie, but from a random mule?
***
The sun was beginning to set by the time I loaded the last tub of apples into the cart. By now, I was bathed in sweat, my arms aching, and my glasses steamed up. With a sigh of relief, I wiped them off with the hem of my shirt before replacing them. Applejack and Apple Bloom joined me as Big Mac wheeled the last wagon load away.
“Good job, Dave,” said Applejack. “We oughta have you help out here more often. Ah never knew you were this strong.”
“I never would have believed it myself,” I groaned in fatigue. “It’s not something I do often.”
“Well, a deal’s a deal,” said Applejack, and she handed out a hoof-full of bits to me, and to Apple Bloom. “Ah wanna know that y’all are doin’ yer darndest on buildin’ that cart.”
“Thanks, Applejack!” said Apple Bloom, nuzzling up against her big sister.
Applejack smiled and leaned down to nuzzle her little sister in turn.
“Come and git it, youngsters!” called Granny Smith. “Supper time!”
“Comin’, Granny!” called Applejack. “You up for some vittles, Dave?”
“Me? Really?”
“Sure! A hard day’s work deserves some good grub. Don’t be shy, now. Yer practically part of the family.”
“Heh, thanks, AJ.”
She smiled at me, and we set off for the farmhouse.
***
After an excellent dinner (Granny Smith was quite a whiz when it came to cooking), Apple Bloom and I went to deposit our bits into our savings jar. Applejack told us that Apple Bloom was to return soon afterwards so she could go to bed, which I agreed to, but Apple Bloom wasn’t as keen on the idea.
We dropped our bits into the jar, the sound very satisfying to my ears.
“Wonder how much the others made,” said Apple Bloom.
“Dunno. I can’t imagine Fluttershy being very rich, but she seems to get by all right. I just wonder what she’ll have the others do.”
“Probably feeding her critters or rounding up her chickens,” said Apple Bloom. “It’s a lot to handle for just one pony.”
“Well, whatever the case, I’d better wait for them to return. You should head on home, Apple Bloom.”
“Aw, but Ah ain’t tired,” said Apple Bloom. “‘Sides, it’s Saturday. Don’t you go to sleep late on weekends?”
“Sure, but I’m an adult.”
“Wut’s that gotta do with anythin’?” asked Apple Bloom, putting her hooves on her hips.
“Plenty, but good little kids go to bed when they’re asked to. I’ll admit, I didn’t agree to it when I was a kid, but kids nowadays need to respect what they’re told.”
“Why?” asked Apple Bloom.
“Don’t you remember what I said when you first made me a Crusader?” I asked, slyly.
Apple Bloom put a hoof to her chin, trying to recall the events of that day, leaving herself open.
“I told you I was an agent of someone, and do you remember who that someone is?”
The pieces clicked together in Apple Bloom’s mind.
“That’s right...the Tickle Monster!”
I lunged out with my hands, tickling at her and making her burst into a paroxysm of giggles.
“Stop! Ah can’t take it! Ah’m ticklish!” she gasped out in between laughs.
I finally let up, allowing her to catch her breath.
“Now, unless you want Round 2,” I said, “you should head back like Applejack wanted.”
“No fair, fingers are cheatin’,” grumbled Apple Bloom, but she consented in the end. “G’night, Dave.”
“Night, Apple Bloom.”
She traipsed out of the clubhouse and back toward home. A few minutes later, several hoof-falls sounded on the walkway, and Sweetie Belle appeared, holding a little bag in her teeth.
“Where are Scootaloo and Dinky?” I asked.
“Vhey weft hovf,” Sweetie Belle said, voice muffled by the bag in her mouth.
“Say again?”
She spit the bag out.
“They went home. Dinky was getting sleepy, so Fluttershy took her and Scootaloo home when we were done. I told her I could get myself home and not to worry.”
“Ah, all right. How did you do?”
“Pretty good! Fluttershy had us feed her animals, then round up her chickens for the night. She showed us the right way, of course.”
“Just like Apple Bloom predicted,” I said. “She and I helped the Apples store food for the winter. We made 20 bits between us.”
“Great! We got 10!”
She handed me the bag, and I dumped the bits into the jar.
“We’re getting there, Sweetie,” I said, tucking the jar under my arm. “Let’s hope for another productive day tomorrow.”
“You bet!” said Sweetie Belle.
The two of us descended the walkway from the clubhouse.
“You sure you don’t need help getting home?”
“Nah, I’ll be ok, but thanks! Good night, Dave!”
“Night, Sweetie.”
The two of us departed on our separate ways home, while I wondered what else was in store for us.
Saturday, November 2: 54 bits.
***
“I really don’t think that should go there.”
“It’s fine, Dave.”
“No, really, that one looks like it’s gonna-”
“Uh oh!”
“Watch it!”
*CRASH!*
“Not again...”
The next day, the five of us had gone job-hunting again, and luck seemed to smile in our faces as Berry Punch asked if we could stack empty bottles for her. Unfortunately, the Crusaders’ helping out didn’t improve matters, as they were too small to make big bottle pyramids, and had opted to standing on each other’s shoulders to make a four-filly tower. Dinky was on top, but she wasn’t very coordinated. It didn’t help that she tried to use her horn to stop falling bottles, only to create a little yellow spark that didn’t do much to help. Berry was standing by, wincing with each broken bottle that hit the ground. I had a feeling this job was going to amount to the total of jack squat.
Indeed, Berry hadn’t even offered a reward for helping her out, and it looked like we weren’t going to get it anyway. As the girls helped sweep up, I apologized profusely to her.
“I’m really sorry, Berry,” I said. “We didn’t mean to make such a mess of things.”
“It’s ok, Dave,” said Berry. “I’m a little disappointed, but it’s nothing I haven’t done before myself. I’ve had my share of broken bottles.”
Well, at least she wasn’t too mad about it. Still, today started off with no profits, just some sullen fillies. Dinky was looking especially downcast from muddling things up.
“Hey, it’s ok, sis,” said Scootaloo, giving her a little consoling nuzzle. “You at least tried to stop them from falling.”
Dinky just nodded without saying anything.
“We’re gonna look for anypony else who needs help,” said Sweetie Belle to me.
“All right,” I said.
The Crusaders walked off, while I scanned around the square myself. Ponyville was full of busy ponies. Surely there was somepony else who needed our aid.
“Well, look who it is!”
I felt my insides shrivel at that snide voice. Sure enough, it was Diamond Tiara, flanked as always by Silver Spoon.
“Hello, girls,” I said, trying to be polite. “How are you doing?”
“Oh, pretty good, Mr. Dave,” said Silver Spoon. “Are you going to watch the Junior Derby at the end of the month? It’s gonna be wild!”
“Actually, I intend to take part in it.The Crusaders and I are gonna build our own cart.”
Something about this seemed to strike Diamond Tiara as humorous, as she started laughing.
“What?” I asked.
“You’re gonna put together your own cart, with them?” said Diamond Tiara, scoffing.
“And what’s wrong with that?” I asked, starting to get annoyed.
“Oh, nothing, just that you won’t get a decent car made without good talent,” said Diamond Tiara. “If you wanted to win, you’d have hired some professionals, like I did. That way, you know you’ll get the best money can buy.”
“Now hold on a minute,” I started, angrily. “We’re still working on the money part, but this cart’s gonna be built by hand and hoof, by us. It might not be as fancy as one you’re having built by professional ponies, but what matters is that it was made by ourselves, by our own hard efforts.”
Perhaps that did sound a little schmaltzy, but I meant it.
“That still doesn’t mean it’ll win,” said Diamond Tiara.
“Why do you hang around with them, anyway?” asked Silver Spoon, though she wasn’t as scornful as Diamond Tiara. She sounded more like she was seeking an answer that had long eluded her. “A big guy like you could do so much better than those four. They just don’t get it.”
“You think so?” I asked, raising an eyebrow. “Well, I hang around with them because I consider them my friends. We look out for each other, and nothing is changing that.”
Silver Spoon said nothing, but continued to look up at me. Diamond Tiara shrugged.
“Suit yourself,” she said. “Come on, Silver Spoon. If he wants to lose the derby, it’s his business.”
The two walked off, noses in the air. I, for my part, had my fists clenched, nails digging into my palms. Who raised those two to be such little brats?
“Dave!”
Sweetie Belle’s voice snapped me out of my anger as the four returned.
“Find something, kids?”
“Yeah! Rarity needs clothes models for her new fashion line, and Bon Bon needs help at the candy store!”
“All right, how many does each need?”
“Well, since she’s my sister, you and I could go help her,” Sweetie Belle went on, “and the rest of you can help Bon Bon.”
“Sounds great!” said Apple Bloom.
“I’m all over it!” said Scootaloo.
“Yay! Candy!” squeaked Dinky.
The three ran off for Bon Bon's while Sweetie Belle and I made for Rarity’s.
***
“Yes, yes, that’s it. Work with me, Dave. Perfect! Now, hand on one hip, other arm pointed to the sky. Yes! Wonderful! Oh, you’re an absolute natural! Sweetie Belle? Oh, yes, you’re simply darling, little sister!”
Rarity had Sweetie Belle and me modeling outfits for foals and stallions, respectively, putting the former in glimmering, silky dresses, tiaras, blouses, saddles, skirts, flowered hair-bands, and more, while I was cast into all sorts of two-piece suits: business, formal, casual, overalls, winter wear, fedoras, top hats, snow caps, etc. The way she transitioned from one ensemble to the next was amazing. It was almost as if they just magically swapped with each other. Wait a minute...Ohh.
“Spectacular!” she said, when our little fashion show was ended, and we stepped down. “You two have been an enormous help!”
“Happy to be of service, Rarity,” I said.
“Now, Sweetie Belle told me everything, and I am willing to donate to the cause. 25 bits for a job well done!”
She floated a little bag of bits into my hands, which gave off a healthy jingle of gold.
“Thanks, Rarity!” said Sweetie Belle.
“Yeah, Rarity, thanks!”
“You’re very welcome, darlings. Do me proud, Sweetie Belle!”
“I will!”
The two of us left the Boutique in high spirits.
“This is the greatest!” said Sweetie Belle. “We’ll have all the money in no time!”
“You said it!” I said. “I just hope the others are having as much luck.”
At that moment, the two of us were met by an angry, familiar voice down the street.
“Out, you little scamps! Out!”
Bon Bon was shooing Apple Bloom, Scootaloo, and Dinky away with a broom. Their faces were a mess of chocolate. Bon Bon spotted me and called,
“Next time they want to help, Dave, you’d better chaperone them! They need supervision, and Lyra’s no help in that regard!”
“Hey!” came the unicorn’s offended voice. My guess was that Lyra hadn’t exactly stopped them from doing whatever they did.
“What did you do?” I asked the Crusaders, sternly.
The three looked very sheepish.
“We were sorting candies,” said Scootaloo, “and...we couldn’t help ourselves.”
“We only meant to taste one,” said Apple Bloom.
“But when we did, we couldn’t taste just one, and we were eating a whole bunch!” said Dinky. “It was yummy...but now I feel bad for eating them.”
All I could do was let out a sigh of frustration.
“I blame myself,” I said. “I should have been there to make sure nothing bad happened. Well, live and learn, right? At the very least, Sweetie Belle and I made 25 for helping Rarity.”
This brightened the downcast little candy-munchers right up.
“If we keep getting jobs like this, we’ll be on Easy Street!” said Scootaloo.
“So, how long do you think we can keep this up, Crusaders?” I asked. “Our goal is 500, and so far, we have...”
I did some rough calculating in my head, coming up with,
“79 in 2 days. However, this was the weekend. Will we still have time on weekdays?”
“Hmm, probably not as much,” said Apple Bloom. “We’re gonna have homework and other stuff.”
“Especially since our winter break is coming closer,” said Scootaloo. “Miss Cheerilee’s gonna be giving us more work to do before then.”
“Well, I’ll do what I can to add bits to our count on days we can’t do things as a group. You girls just focus on what you gotta do until the next weekend. How does that sound?”
“Yeah!” they chorused together.
“As long as we avoid anymore incidents like this one,” I added.
The three choco-faced fillies looked away sheepishly again.
Sunday, November 3: 79 bits.
***
Sure enough, the next day, the Crusaders had to go back to school. However, Scootaloo volunteered to donate part of her pay from her paper route to the cause, and came by to hand me three bits out of what she had earned, saying she would add that to our count each day she did her route. She also said that, after school, they would try to find themselves quick little jobs that didn’t take more than an hour or two. It made me smile to see them being so proactive.
Not only that, but when Ironmane showed up, I eagerly accepted my weekly payment.
“Do you have particular plans for these funds, David?” he asked, raising an eyebrow at my behavior.
“Well, not all of them, Minister,” I said. “I’m helping some local fillies with a project: building a car for a derby at the end of the month.”
“Indeed?” asked Ironmane, sounding slightly interested. “It is well that you are finding ways to employ your time.”
“There haven’t been any emergencies or anything yet, have there?” I asked.
“None whatsoever,” said Ironmane. “If there were, I would keep you updated. I do not engage in many frivolities or festivities, but I will admit I admire your dedication to a consistent project. I urge that you keep up on it.”
“Will do, Minister.”
And with that, he took his leave. I went back inside and dropped about 10 bits from the bag into the jar, along with the three Scootaloo had given me that morning. I had written ‘Goal: 500’ on the side, along with the cause. We still had quite a ways to go, but it would be worth it in the end.
If that wasn’t enough, Apple Bloom turned up at my house around 5 in the afternoon, carrying a bag in her mouth. She was covered in sweat and grass stains, and looked like she’d put on a couple pounds.
“Apple Bloom, what happened?” I asked, as she handed the bag to me.
“Ah was telling Snips and Snails about our fundraisin’, and Snails said his ma needed a hoof mowin’ the lawn. I got about halfway through before Ah got too tired to push the mower, so I just grazed the rest. Ah got 10 bits out of it.”
“Well, that was nice of Snails to offer a job. Is he in the race?”
“Yeah, he and Snips both. They’re nice fellas, but about as sharp as a crayon.”
“In any case, a contribution is a contribution. You did a fine job, Apple Bloom.”
“Thanks, Dave,” said Apple Bloom, gratefully. “Ah’d better get home now. Granny won’t be happy if I show up all dirty like this, but I don’t think Ah’ll be too hungry for supper,” she added, putting a hoof to her tummy. “See ya!”
And she scampered off toward home, while I added the 10 bits to our ever-growing pile. Another 23 bits in one day.
Monday, November 4: 102 bits.
***
The next day, the Crusaders went scouting around after school once again, Apple Bloom having gotten over her grass-induced stomach ache. The four got an offer to help wash dishes at a local cafe for 20 bits. Now, I was a little nervous about this, as this kind of delicate operation was being entrusted to little fillies. However, this time, I was around to supervise and make sure they did it right. As it turned out, Sweetie Belle was the most adept at this, having been taught both by Rarity and her mother, the latter of whom had been giving her cooking lessons. So Sweetie Belle washed, Scootaloo dried, and Apple Bloom and Dinky stacked, while I made sure they didn’t tip over. The waiter, your average French maitre d (if said average maitre d was a pony), was very pleased with our work, and gave us the 20 bits for our efforts.
Tuesday, November 5: 125 bits.
***
On Wednesday, an elderly pony by the name of Mr. Waddle allowed us to carry his groceries for him as he made his way to the retirement home where he lived, earning us another 10 bits. On the same day, Applejack needed someone to take Winona out for a walk, which I volunteered for while the girls asked to help sweep up the autumn leaves scattered around the farm. Armed with bags for when she had to do her ‘business’, I took Winona for a stroll around Ponyville. She was very well-behaved, and apparently well known to other Ponyville ponies, as they greeted her kindly and even went up to pet her. However, she did get occasional spurts of energy whenever she spied a rabbit or a squirrel, forcing me to run along behind her, dragged by her leash. In the end, Applejack gave us another 20 bits for our troubles.
“You sure you don’t mind this, AJ?” I asked, while feeding Winona a dog biscuit. “I don’t wanna bankrupt Sweet Apple Acres.”
“You’re bankruptin’ nothin, silly,” said Applejack. “Ah told ya before, we’ve been doin’ a lot better lately, especially after fixin’ up Granny’s hip. Don’t you worry none, Dave.”
“Well, all right, then. Thanks, AJ.”
“Anytime, sugar.”
Wednesday, November 6: 158 bits.
***
The next day wasn’t quite so fun. An elderly mare asked if we could help clean out her gutters for 10 bits. This had to be one of the nastiest, most disgusting jobs I’d ever had to do. Her gutters were a mass of black and greenish sludge, as if they hadn’t been cleaned in years. The smell was absolutely atrocious, as well. I would not allow the girls to come up, as they shouldn’t have to suffer such olfactory horrors. It took nearly a whole agonizing hour to clean out those danged gutters, but the mare was very grateful about it, saying something about her poor husband being laid up with a bad knee that kept him from doing it. This somewhat mollified me, along with the 10 bits. Still, I felt like it would take ages to rid myself of the gutter-stank.
Thursday, November 7: 171 bits.
***
On Friday, we went to help out the flower mares in arranging their winter flowers while also carrying away their autumn flowers for careful re-potting indoors. As Rose had told me, these winter beauties included daphnes, mahonias, hellebores, along with poppies, pansies, and primroses. Of course, I never would have known what any of these were without her, Daisy, or Lily telling me. At any rate, they gave us 15 bits for our efforts (5 from each flower mare). Now, the girls had been invited to a foal’s birthday party, so they had to get ready after that, while I went to take the bits home.
“What are you up to, Dave?”
I was just at the door when this gentle, inquisitive voice spoke up. It was Moonlight. I’d forgotten I hadn’t seen her since Nightmare Night.
“Hi, Moonlight. Just wrapping up today’s job hunt.”
“Job hunt? I thought you had a job already,” said Moonlight.
“Odd jobs, Moonlight. I’m helping the Crusaders raise money to buy materials for a racing cart for a junior derby at the end of the month.”
“How exciting!” said Moonlight. “And how generous of you to want to help them. What’s your target?”
“500. With this, along with the 3 Scootaloo donates every time she runs her paper route, this’ll make 189.”
“You work fast!” said Moonlight, astonished.
“Well, we have to buy the materials, then build it, so time’s of the essence.”
“Oh, I see.”
She seemed to consider for a moment, then said,
“Wait here.”
She went into her house. I was confused by her strange attitude, but she returned with a small sack of bits.
“11 bits,” she said, handing it to me, “to make it an even 200.”
I stared at her.
“Moonlight, you don’t have to do that, really.”
“I want to, though,” said Moonlight. “I met the Crusaders on Nightmare Night. They’re such sweet little darlings, and I want to help them and you as much as I can.”
“Well, gosh, thanks, Moonlight. I’m just sorry we haven’t been seeing each other lately.”
“Oh, it’s ok,” said Moonlight, kindly. “You’ve been busy with your own agenda, and I’ve been taking little walks through Ponyville, meeting everypony I see. I’ve been kind of occupied myself.”
“That’s good. I’m glad you’re warming up to going out in public.”
“There’s just one thing, though,” said Moonlight. “I hear ponies talk about a magician in town, but every time I try to find her, I never spot her. It’s a shame, because I like magic tricks.”
“Huh. That’s odd that she wouldn’t be around,” I said, scratching my head. “Well, I’m sure she’ll turn up. She really is quite talented.”
Moonlight smiled, and we took leave of each other.
Friday, November 8: 200 bits.