The Huragok made an annoyed whistle as it inspected its resources. There weren’t enough candlewicks in the Crusader’s clubhouse to complete the modifications that the floating gasbag wanted, how very irksome. Looking at the candles it had collected, the Huragok went through every scenario it could think of. But no mattered what, there was no way it could make the repairs without at least another dozen and a half candlewicks.
Pondering its options, the Huragok supposed it could simply wait until there were sufficient candlewicks in the clubhouse and work on another project until then. The alien knew the thought would scratch at the back of its mind, however, and that would be just annoying… it might even harm efficiency!
Wiggling its head about at the mere thought of such a thing, the Huragok made its choice, it needed to get more candlewicks. But where would it get candlewicks? The image of Apple Bloom popped into its mind and calculations were made. Of course the equine creature would have some! She had said she would return in a… jiffy. The Huragok did not know how long of a timeframe a jiffy was, so that could mean that the foal could return next week or later! The Huragok could not wait a week for this, the very thought was an unacceptable thing.
Another thought processed through the Huragok’s mind an instant later. Sentient beings always built dwellings for shelter. If the equine did not live in the clubhouse, then a main dwelling had to be somewhere close. While refitting the walls outside the night before, the Huragok had seen some lights in the distant that must be it!
Whistling happily, the Huragok made for the door. Opening it with relative ease, the floating supercomputer floated into the outside world. Using its perfect memory to calculate the position of the lights it saw, the Huragok determined the direction of the house and floated happily towards it.
It couldn’t wait to get the candlewicks and return to work!
~~~~
“Ah’ll never know where she gets all that energy.” Applejack laughed as Apple Bloom ran up the stairs. “Suppose we were all like that when we were foals, huh Big Mac?”
“Eeyup.” The red stallion replied.
No sooner had she nearly flew up the steps did Apple Bloom descend again; her saddlebags hooked up and ready to go. “All ready!” She smiled.
“Then let’s get goin’.” Applejack waited for the filly to pass her and run out the door until she made her own way. “See ya Big Mac!”
“Eeyup!” Big Mac called back as his sister shut the door behind her.
The large red stallion got up from his seat and stretched. It was going to be a hard day of work without Applejack helping, so he had to make sure not to get hurt in anyway that might compromise his health. Turning to Granny Smith’s chair, the farmer’s eyes widened and he yelped as he saw his grandmother asleep, her head resting in her hot oatmeal! Big Mac rushed over to the old pale green mare and pulled her from her food; her face was red and steaming! Big Mac yelped in terror again and started waving his hoof frantically and blowing on his elder’s face to try and cool it down.
A sigh of relief left Big Mac’s mouth as the steaming stopped. Oddly enough, the old mare was still sound asleep, blissfully unaware of what had just happened. Cocking an eyebrow in confusion, the large stallion wondered how in Celestia’s grace had his grandmother not awoken from that! She was an odd one that was for sure.
Lifting the old mare on his back and bringing up the stairs and too her room, Big Mac tucked Granny Smith into her bed. Making sure his elder wasn’t going anywhere; the stallion smiled slightly and went to work, there was certainly a lot of it today.
Exiting the farmhouse and inhaling deeply, Big Mac took in the rustic smell of Sweet Apple Acres and loved every second of it. There was nowhere better than the farm.
Heading to the barn, Big Mac opened the massive double doors and headed for a large cart parked in the far corner. Hitching it to himself and starting up with a brisk trot, the stallion made his way out of the barn and headed for the many apple orchards contained on the family’s property.
Whistling a jaunty tune to himself, Big Mac began to think about stuff. He thought about pony stuff, and farming stuff, and brotherly stuff, and personal stuff too. Despite what some believed, the stallion was not as slow-witted as the he let on. Sure he wasn’t about to give a lecture about the properties of magical essences inside of a mircomolecular vacuum going at an excess velocity of one hundred and eighty miles an hour at Canterlot College, but just because you didn’t know all that fancy mathematics didn’t mean you weren’t smart. Big Mac was rustically smart and to the big red stallion, that was ok with him. Besides, everypony wanted the smarty ponies to fix the world’s problems, and Big Mac didn’t think he could handle that kind of pressure.
Now if only Big Mac had been thinking of where he was going, then maybe he wouldn’t have run the front left wheel of the cart into one of the farm’s many irrigation ditches. The stallion made his third yelp of the day as gravity grabbed the cart and pushed it into the ditch. Next physics came in and applied pressure to the front wheel---and snapped it in two.
Big Mac detached himself from the cart and he inspected the damage. A disgruntled groan escaped the stallion’s mouth as he looked at the broken wheel. This was just the farmer pony’s luck.
Jumping into the ditch with a wet splash, Big Mac rammed his back into the side of the cart and pushed off with all fours. Feeling the cart lift and exit the ditch helped lift Mac’s spirits and told him he was making progress. Giving one last heave, the stallion pushed the cart out of the ditch with sheer horsepower.
Jumping back to ground level, Big Mac pulled the cart a meter away from the ditch to avoid a repeat disaster. Ignoring his wet coat and inspecting the broken wheel again, the stallion groaned once more. He’d need tools for the job, tools he didn’t have on his person. Shaking his head stoically, the red stallion began walking back to the farm; he’d need a new wheel and tools to install it.
~~~~
Floating low above the ground, the gasbag Huragok moved with unseen determination. It could see the equine’s dwelling off in the distance and estimates placed the Huragok at ten minutes from it at the gasbag’s current speed. Huragoks were nothing if not patient however, and so it continued on its way without complaint.
As it floated by though, a loud crash resonated through the orchard. Drawn by the noise, the Huragok floated in the direction. Poking its head out from the tree line, the Huragok saw a rather large red equine creature inspecting a wheeled wagon. The large creature groaned in annoyance before leaving the broken transport and walking off towards the dwelling in the distance.
Once the equine was some ways off the Huragok floated out from the tree line and inspected the wagon for itself. A simple setup propelled the wagon: a metal bar slid between two more pieces of half circles nailed in the bottom. The wheels slid snuggly thanks to a hole in the center and a clamp held the wheel fast. One wheel was missing though.
Looking around, the Huragok spotted the wheel in an irrigation ditch. Floating to it and pulling two pieces of it out of the muck, the Huragok got to work without even thinking. A little matter manipulation (as well as some nearby twigs for extra material) and the two halves became one wheel again. Floating back to the wagon and replacing the wheel, the Huragok took the clamp and snapped it onto the metal bar.
Giving the wagon an experimental push, the gasbag whistled happily as the transport moved without obstruction. The task done, the Huragok left the wagon where it was and made for the equine dwelling.
As suspected, it took the Huragok ten minutes to get there. The structure in question was red with white outlines. Windows dotted the outside and flowers grew in little gardens all about. Floating towards the front door, the Huragok took a front tentacle and wrapped it around the doorknob. Hmm… How primitive, this unlocking mechanism… Anyway, twisting the knob and pushing forward, the Huragok opened the door and entered the house.
Now inside, the Huragok could look for candlewicks. They had to be unused, that was key. The Huragok closed the door behind itself (it knew such primitive barriers could not do so themselves) and floated about. It went about two meters when it saw a candleholder on a small table, but more importantly were the unused candles around it. Whistling happily, the Huragok grabbed the candles, six in all, with its main tentacles. Handing off the candles to one of its smaller tendrils, the Huragok began exploring the house once more.
It still needed a lot more candles for its repairs!
~~~~
Big Mac trotted briskly back to the wagon, a toolbox nestled in his mouth and a new wheel on his back. The stallion sighed, the repairs wouldn’t be a bother to do at all, but just the nuisance of having to run back and forth because of his foolish daydreaming really irked him. Oh well, he thought, accidents happen and the only thing to do now was go and fix the wagon so he could…
The farmer pony stopped dead in his tracks, widened his eyes, and dropped his jaw so much the toolbox fell out. The wagon… it was fixed! The wheel was back on and it looked ready to go. Big Mac shook his head, what in tarnation was going on? He was a hundred percent sure he had broken the wagon, so how in the heck was it right in front of him all fixed up?
The stallion knew that the residents of Ponyville were a kind sort and would certainly help a pony in need, but Big Mac was deep in Apple family property, there wasn’t another pony for a couple miles!
Walking up to the wagon, Big Mac tested it out so he knew it wasn’t some figment of his imagination. “Nnope…” The stallion answered his own thoughts as he moved the wagon back and forth much like a foal does with toys.
Big Mac didn’t know what to make of this. Was it some kind of miracle? Big Mac didn’t believe in miracles, a pony made their own fortunes in life. Still a little suspicious about the whole thing, Big Mac just shook his head and shrugged. The wagon was fixed and he didn’t have to lift a hoof. Best not look a gift horse in the mouth.
There was still the issue of the toolbox and new wheel. Big Mac couldn’t carry them with him, they’d take up space in the cart, space meant for apples.
Sighing again, Big Mac turned and headed back to the farmhouse to put the tools and wheel away. What a grand waste of time this all was. Still, the red stallion would have liked to at least been able to meet the pony that had fixed the wagon. Big Mac wanted to thank them for it.
The stallion decided not to dwell on it and instead made his way back to the farmhouse. His thoughts drifted to Granny Smith, he wondered if his grandmother had awoken yet.
~~~~
The Huragok was very pleased with its haul. Forty-eight candles meant forty-eight candlewicks. At first it had needed only eighteen, but as it collected candles the Huragok thought of more ways to use the wicks inside. So naturally, the gasbag started collecting more candles. Only a couple more and the alien would have all the wicks it needed for the modifications it had planned.
Returning to what the humans (and these equines by comparison it surmised) called the ‘kitchen’ from what they called the ‘living room’, the Huragok turned its head upward to the stairs. There were probably more candles up there. Floating up to the upper floor, the Huragok shifted its head left and right. To the left side: more doors, to the other: other doors, but there was a window and a small table with a plant on it under that.
Turning left, the Huragok went for a random door. Opening it up and floating in, the Huragok confirmed the room as a sleeping area. Sleeping in a double bed all snuggled up and tucked in was a pale green equine that looked aged… considerably aged---Forerunner’s glory, how old was that mare?
Granny Smith only held the Huragok’s interest for a few seconds before the alien saw them: several unused candles lay upon her bedside table! Whistling happily, but quietly, the Huragok floated towards the table and outstretched its tentacle. The candles were so close; soon the Huragok would be able to make its modifications to the clubhouse. Two feet… one… a few inches… one inch and…
“Oh well a course Ah’ll dance with ya, ya shy thing you!”
Granny Smith, having a nice dream of her younger days, unconsciously grabbed for the nearest things she could, and that just so happened to be the Huragok’s tentacle. The old mare hugged the appendage close. “Geez sweetie, Ah don’t remember yer hoof bein’ so slippery! Aw, it don’t matter though! Let’s dance!”
The Huragok’s full attention was now back on Granny Smith. Despite her outburst, she didn’t move a muscle and instead simply held the Huragok’s tentacle while humming a tune to herself in her sleep.
The alien gasbag blinked at the strange old mare, and then proceed to try to pull its tentacle free. It didn’t budge. The Huragok tilted its head in confusion and then pulled back again, and again nothing. For the next ten minutes the Huragok tried in a desperate bid to free its frontal appendage from the grasp of the elder equine. Success was nonexistent; the mare had quite the grip. The Huragok pondered how strong she was at her prime, but the thought didn’t help the Huragok get over its current situation. It was trapped here by an equine of considerable gripping strength and was unable to return to its modifications and repairs.
This would certainly not do. Mustering all its strength, the Huragok readied to pull itself loose from the mare’s grip. Three… Two… One… The mare let go. The gasbag’s tentacle feel to a hanging position. The Huragok stared at its appendage with mild interest. Huh, it was free… Excellent!
Grabbing the candles and floating away, the Huragok went down the stairs and opened the front door. Floating through and closing it, a sound yet again caught the Huragok’s attention. This time it was from a structure adjacent to the dwelling, a barn if the Huragok remembered the word correctly.
Floating to the open barn doors and peering inside, the Huragok spied the same red stallion at a workbench; putting things like tools away it appeared.
Big Mac shuffled through the many drawers of his workbench, putting his tools back in their right storage containers. The stallion was unsure how much time had been wasted from the broken wagon side trip. He sighed as he packed all the tools away. There was only one more tool to put away: a hammer.
Reaching for the object with his mouth, Big Mac took it and was about to place the tool in the right spot when it slipped from his bite and fell to the ground. The hammer slammed onto the ground and the head broke off from the handle and slide under the workbench. The red stallion groaned audibly and crouched to lie on his belly to grab for it.
Patting his hoof around to grasp for the head, Big Mac groaned at the frailty of his equipment. The hammer was probably some foreign made garbage that couldn’t hold a candle to good old Equestrian manufacturing. Or, at the very least, Apple Family manufacturing. Big Mac remembered how he had seen his father make good quality hammers like it was nothing, and they held for the longest time too. Aw well, didn’t help to dwell on it, Big Mac just needed to find this stupid hammer’s head.
Feeling something with his hoof, Big Mac grinned triumphantly. Bringing the chunk of metal close to him and grabbing the handle, the red stallion picked himself up. What he saw next bewildered him.
Three pairs of small black eyes looked back at the stallion’s confused face. The eyes were on a fluorescent blue head that faded into a long, wormlike blue neck that snaked into a large purple-pink body with lots of inflating then deflating bladder looking things. Big Mac didn’t know what to make of this creature; his mind processes couldn’t handle it.
The Huragok, for its part, looked from Big Mac to the broken hammer. Taking its long tentacles, the gasbag took the hammer and fiddled with it. The stallion watched dumbstruck as the creature fixed the hammer with seamless precision.
When it was completed, the Huragok whistled happily and presented the hammer to Big Mac. It whistled at him to take it. Big Mac understood the gesture and took the hammer from the creature. “Uh…” The stallion got out---before falling over and crashing to the ground, sending a pile of wooden planks and tools with him. The Huragok cocked its head at the unconscious stallion. Suddenly it remembered the candles in its tentacles, the modifications!
Whistling to itself, the Huragok turned tail and floated away back to the clubhouse, leaving Big Mac to his shock-induced unconsciousness. There was still a lot of work to be done and it needed to get started right away so other projects could be started.
Still, it would have to come back here one day; this dwelling was ripe with all kinds of possible modifications!