//------------------------------//
// ...What do they call me? 
// Story: The Rest Just Call Me... 
// by overlord-flinx 
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	Ponyville in the wee hours before the crack of dawn. A peaceful time where the amber glow of day's first yawn opens across this most majestic land. An hour of apple pickers sneaking in those precious few before-work hours, little ponies fighting to stay in bed, and birds preening their wings and chirping for a new day. It was also in this early day hour that a cart would roll into the streets of Ponyville, pushed by a lone pony. Before the streets filled, before the parents went off to work, before even the baker started working the first piece of dough. This pony tapped their cart along, head nudging against the backside of the labored cart, moving it further through the abandoned town streets.

When the pony stopped, hooves went to the sides of the cart to try and steady it so it wouldn't drift too far away. They crinkled a bit as they shifted their head one way to examine their cart a little. The crinkling sound came from the paper bag adorned on the ponies head, leaving only the imagination to see what the face of this pony looked like. When they stopped looking at the cart, hooves planted back against the street with a light tap. No sound came as the pony softly cantered away from the cart and towards the porch of a nearby house.

Two black holes served as the only expression on the flat of the paper bag face; those two holes now looking directly at the wooden door put before them. The pony lifted a single front hoof up and tapped it with some effort to the wooden frame. Knock-knock-knock. The pony stood in wait for someone to answer their knocking. To some surprise, the door did not take long to respond and be opened. The one to answer was a young filly with a fine pink-tone mane and a soft white coat. The filly looked at the guest with a bemused but polite set of eyes. "...You have a bag on your head," spoke Sweetie Belle.

The pony with a bag on their head seemed to look down at Sweetie Belle, still standing on the porch of this fillies house and not making any move to try and go inside. Instead, the pony laughed a rather muffled sound from behind their paper covering and nodded at the filly. "Mhm." A soft answer, but it felt so kind to Sweetie Belle for some reason, "If you don't mind, can I ask you something? Something else I mean. Because, you know, I just asked you if I could ask you something. But that question was to clear up if I--" they stopped and put a hoof against their chest, breathing in, "On second thought. I'm going to ask you a question."

The response the pony got was not exactly what they expected. Sweetie Belle had started to laugh; a small, child's laugh. In her laugh, she nodded at the bag wearing pony and tried to hold her laugh back just a little. "O-Okay. Ask away. But you'd better hurry, my big sister might get angry if I keep the door open too long."

"Oh, mhm... Sisters are the worst..." the pony sighed, "So here's my question: Do you know what my name is?"

Sweetie Belle's laughing stopped on a dime when she heard that question; even though she found the question itself funny for a different reason. It certainly wasn't a question you hear everyday; and you definitely didn't hear it from strangers. Much less strangers wearing a paper bag on their head. That's why, when Sweetie Belle answered, she said, "I... Don't know... I've never seen you in town before, sorry..." Sweetie Belle watched as the pony slumped their head down to the ground, surprised that the bag hadn't fallen off, "But... If I had to guess..." mentally Sweetie Belle took little pictures of the pony in front of her, ignoring the obvious feature of the bag, "...You look like a... Soy Sauce!"

Soy Sauce... The pony lifted their head up, considering the name. Finally, they nodded and gave Sweetie Belle a pat on the top of her puffy hair. "Soy Sauce. Works for me. Sorry to give you any trouble..." hurriedly the pony darted back to the cart and picked up something from the inner contents to bring back to Sweetie Belle. "Here. A little token for your trouble. Maybe your mean-ol' sis will like it too!"

Sweetie Belle took the item with some quizzical caution. However, the moment she looked at it closer, her face lit up like a Hearth's Warming fire. It was so, so beautiful! This gem must have been worth a small fortune of bits. It sparkled flawlessly with a prismatic shimmer being given off from the slowly rising sun's light shining through it. Sweetie Belle was lost on words, too lost that she hadn't noticed Soy Sauce go back to the cart and start pushing it. When she finally snapped out of it, she waved frantically to Soy Sauce, the gem tightly cradled to her chest. "Bye, Mr. Soy Sauce! Thank you sooo much!" she yelled after him.

Mister? Am I a mister? 'Soy Sauce' pondered. Hmmm... Mr. Soy Sauce... I guess that'll do for now. Better then being called Bag-Head... Unless that IS my name. Huh... Back to pushing the cart, Soy Sauce kept pondering what to do next, and why he or she was pushing this cart. Maybe he or she would never know; but was it really that bad a life in the end? Every day was a new birthday. Every day was a new name and a new story. And, who knows? Maybe tomorrow will be the time I find who's under the bag.