//------------------------------// // Raising the Bits: Week 2 // Story: Living in Equestria // by Blazewing //------------------------------// I was awakened by a tapping at my window. Still groggy, I sat up, the first thing I saw being one of the Trixie glossies I’d hung up, looking right at me with that winning smile. The tapping sounded again, and I turned to see Rainbow’s rosy-eyed face on the other side of the window. “Rainbow? What’s going on?” I asked, after lifting the window open. “Morning, sleepyhead. The weather team and I are sending out a GWW around Ponyville.” “A what?” “A General Weather Warning. It’s gonna be a stormy one today.” “Oh, I see. Well, thanks for warning me, I guess.” “Hey, no problem. Just didn’t want you to get soaked if you were out looking for jobs again.” “You know about that?” “Yeah. Fluttershy told me the Crusaders helped her with her animals last week, and that it was for the Junior Derby.” A wistful look came into her eyes. “Man, if only I were a filly again. I’d show them what real speed was, and I wouldn’t even need a race cart to prove it!” “You’d blow the competition away like nothing,” I said, amused. “Oh! I almost forgot,” Rainbow added. “Got somethin’ for ya.” She reached from somewhere outside the window and brought out a book, gripped in her teeth. As I accepted it, I saw that the cover depicted Daring Do standing in a clearing within a dense forest, looking at a stern, imposing pegasus stallion with a coat as brown as the tree trunks and a long mane as green as the tree leaves. The title read, Daring Do and the Legend of the Earthwing. “Twilight says it's the best up to this point in the series,” said Rainbow. “Me? I'm not really much for the kinda stuff in this one. It's good, but it needed more action. Still, you and Moonlight should like it.” “Moonlight!” I said, suddenly remembering. “I forgot, she hates storms! I’ve gotta get over to her house and make sure she’s not alone when it happens!” “You’ve got time,” said Rainbow. “The storm’s gonna start at 9:30. From there, it’s on and off showers until 5.” “Wow. That must take a lot of planning.” “Weather management’s not as easy as it looks. Anyways, I gotta jet. Have a good one, man.” She extended a hoof through the window, and I, catching her drift, bumped my fist against it. “You too, Rainbow.” With her characteristic jet-engine roar, she took off, while I set about getting myself cleaned up. I couldn’t just head to Moonlight now, looking like a bedraggled hobo. *** When I was finally washed and dressed, I went to Moonlight’s. When I knocked at the door, it was answered almost immediately by the young pony, who was looking much fresher than after the party yesterday. “Hello, Dave!” “Hey, Moonlight. I came by to-” But I couldn’t finish. There was something about Moonlight that seemed different than before. Her mane was done up in a pair of neat pigtails. Was it a recent style change? “Dave? What’s wrong?” “Nothing, Moonlight. Just, did you do something with your mane? Was it always in pigtails?” “Mm? Oh, no, I just did it up like this this morning. I thought it would look nice.” “It looks very nice. I like it.” “Thanks! So, what were you going to say?” “Eh? Oh! I came to warn you that a storm’s on the way, and I didn’t want you to suffer through it alone.” “Ohh, that’s so sweet of you to think of me,” said Moonlight. “Rainbow Dash told me already. She gave me quite a surprise when she came right up to my window and said a storm was coming today. She also said you had something I’d love to see.” “Probably the next Daring Do book. She dropped it off when she visited me.” “Oh! Wonderful! That’d be a perfect way to spend the rainy day. But first, would you like to come in and see what I’ve done with the house?” “I’d love to.” Moonlight allowed me inside, and immediately I was blown away. Everything was neat, polished, and immaculate. Even in the dim light from the clouded skies, I could see that everything with a wood surface had been wiped down to a brilliant sheen. I couldn’t see a trace of dust anywhere. “Whoa...Moonlight, you did all this?” “Mmhmm! It took hours, but it was well worth it.” “It’s amazing! No wonder you were so exhausted yesterday. You definitely deserve a break, ala a little Daring Do.” Moonlight smiled warmly. “Question is, do you wanna read it here or at my house? I don’t wanna just snub your house after you went to such pains to arrange it.” “If that’s what you want to do, I’ve got no problem with it.” “All right. Let me just grab the book, and we can get started.” “Ok!” *** Thankfully, the storm hadn’t started by the time I returned with the book. As a matter of fact, no sooner had we settled on Moonlight’s sofa than the first crack of thunder and the soft patter of rain made their auditory appearance. At the sound of the thunder, Moonlight stiffened and shifted closer to me, where I felt her shiver. “Let’s get started, shall we?” Moonlight nodded, and I flipped the book open between us. From there on, it was if the storm didn’t even exist. We were completely immersed in this unexpectedly thought-provoking installment of the Daring Do series, with breaks for the bathroom or for lunch during it. Moonlight made a surprisingly tasty grilled cheese and tomato soup combo, the kind of thing you’d expect to eat during a cold, wet day like this. In this book, Daring encountered a civilization long thought to be a myth: the Glen of the Earthwing: pegasi that had either been exiled from normal pegasi colonies or had simply chosen to give up living in the sky in favor of an Earth pony-esque lifestyle. Rather than seek a treasure, Daring wanted to see it for its cultural and historical significance, and so took it upon herself to live among them for a period of time, study how they lived. Even with the time we took, we couldn’t reach the end in one sitting. This book was actually lengthier than many of the installments thus far. By the time 5 o’clock rolled around, we had only reached about the halfway point. “Well, whaddya know? We read right through the storm,” I told Moonlight, who was snuggled comfortably beside me. “We’ll have to finish another day.” She looked up at the window, which was damp with rain, but through which a ray of dying sunlight was now straining through. “Thank goodness,” she said. “But this is an amazing book. I didn’t want to stop.” “Neither did I, but I guess we gotta pause somewhere, right?” “Yeah. Thanks again for sticking with me. You were very sweet to want to keep me company.” “It was my pleasure, Moonlight. I should probably get going. Big Macintosh said he wanted to tell me something yesterday, and now’s a good time, seeing as the storm’s over.” “All right. Take care, Dave!” “You too, Moonlight.” She escorted me to the door and saw me out, while I went to drop the book off back at home before heading for Sweet Apple Acres. It was amazing what a transformation she was going through, from being a shy shut-in in a dimly-lit house to a friendly homemaker. It could only go uphill from here for my young neighbor. *** When I arrived at Sweet Apple Acres, I was greeted by the sounds of both laughter and splashing. Applejack and Apple Bloom were playing about in the grass, in a manner not unlike a pair of playful dogs, their manes soaking wet and their hooves muddy, bereft of both hat and bow. It looked like they were playing in the puddles left by the rain. At the moment, the two were circling each other, tails swishing, anticipating each others’ movements. I paused to watch, because it was both cute and funny to see. “Ah’m gonna getcha!” said Applejack, feinting left. “No ya ain’t!” said Apple Bloom, strafing in kind. I couldn’t help laughing to myself. It was like Applejack had taught her little sis everything she knew about this kind of thing. Suddenly, Applejack gasped. “Great gallopin’ griffins, what’s that?!” she yelled, pointing to the right. Apple Bloom looked sharply that way, but there was nothing but numerous apple trees. That was AJ’s intention, though, as she pounced, pinning Apple Bloom down with her forehooves and sending a spray of mud into the air. The older mare smiled triumphantly down at her little prey, while I could see Apple Bloom’s face twisted into a pout. “That’s cheatin’!” she huffed. “Ah never laid down any rules, AB,” said Applejack. “All’s fair.” “Oh yeah?” asked Apple Bloom, suddenly looking sly. “Then how about this?!” She swiftly raised her back legs and began tickling her sister’s soft tummy with them. Applejack’s smug grin vanished as she burst into laughter, finally releasing her hold on Apple Bloom long enough for the little filly to tackle her backward into the mud, drenching the two in goopy muck. Both were laughing now, but it soon subsided, and Applejack, still smiling, regarded her sister as she lay atop her stomach. “Pretty sneaky, Apple Bloom,” she said. “Ah did learn from the best,” said Apple Bloom. Applejack chuckled and gave Apple Bloom a sisterly noogie. It was then that she noticed me, smiling at their antics. “Howdy, Dave!” she said. “When did you get here?” Apple Bloom looked up at that, and waved energetically at me, sending droplets of mud everywhere. “Not too long ago,” I said. “I didn’t want to interrupt you gals.” “AB and I decided to have ourselves a little puddle-play after it rained.” “Sounds like fun. Is Big Macintosh around? He wanted to talk to me about something.” “Oh, sure. He’s out making sure nothing got blown down in the storm.” “All right. Thanks, AJ.” I left the two muddy sisters to continue their play while I sought out Big Mac. Sure enough, he was righting a big steel plow that had tipped over onto its side near a tilled field. “Hey, Big Mac.” “Howdy, Dave! What a downpour, huh?” “You bet. So, what was it you wanted to talk to me about?” “Mm? Oh, that. Ah’m thinkin’ about startin’ a bowlin’ league.” “A bowling league?” “Eeyup. We’ll meet once a month at Kingpin’s and have us a couple games. Ah already asked Caramel and Meadow Song about it, and they’re game. Haven’t seen much of Magnum, though, so Ah still need to get his OK, but what do you think?” “I think it sounds like a great idea! Count me in!” “Super! If you see Magnum, think you can let him know?” “Not a problem, Big Mac.” “Great. Ah’ve got a feelin’ Cheerilee’s gonna ask her gal-pals about the same thing.” “That’d make for some interesting nights: two teams pitted against each other, just like our last bowling night.” “Eeyup. Well, I should probably get back to makin’ sure the storm didn’t damage anythin’. Glad yer on board with this, Dave.” “No problem, Big Mac. I’ll see you around.” I left Big Mac to his duties while I headed back home. The sound of splashing and laughter from the Apple sisters was still in the air as I departed. It may not have been a day of monetary gain, but who was to say it wasn’t productive? Sunday, November 11: 236 bits. *** The kids were back in school by the next day, so I decided to head out to see what jobs I could rustle up. The streets were still wet, and a smell of damp grass and earth was in the air. I could see Pinkie bouncing from puddle to puddle, crossing gaps I never would have thought possible for a pony. “Hi, Davie!” she chirped, as she came to a halt in a puddle beside me, nearly soaking my shoes. “Hey, Pinkie. Having fun?” “You bet! I love puddle-jumping after a rainy day! Wanna see me splash that one over there?” She pointed to a puddle that was about 15 feet away. “Pinkie, you’re an amazing jumper, but I don’t think you could reach that puddle.” “Is that a challenge?” Pinkie asked. “Are you gonna make it one even if I say no?” “Yep!” “Then be my guest.” But Pinkie didn’t jump right away. Instead, she pulled a tape measure out of nowhere, stuck the tape end into the dirt by the puddle, and ran it the distance between the two puddles. She regarded the tape closely, pulled a piece of paper and a quill out of nowhere, and began writing something down, looking like she was making some serious mental calculations as well. Finally, she nodded to herself, put away the paper, retracted the tape measure, then zipped off. A few minutes later, she returned with her party cannon, wheeling it up to the first puddle. “Davie, when I say ‘go’, will you push the fuse for me?” “What? Er, sure, I guess.” Pinkie reared up, put her back legs into the muzzle, and somehow squeezed her plump self inside up to her head. There were no words for this. “Go!” Still befuddled, I pressed down on the fuse, and with a *boom!*, she went soaring into the air, spanning the entire length and landing with a splash in the very center of the puddle. I felt my jaw drop. How had she made such precise calculations? “How’s that?” Pinkie said as she came back. “Very impressive! You really know how to make someone eat their own words.” “Ooh, really? I wonder what somepony’s own words taste like?” she pondered. “Would it taste like their breath? It might be good if they were fresh and minty, but what if they were like icky morning breath? Yuck!” (And here I thought that was just a joke in The Phantom Tollbooth.) “Still looking for jobs?” “Yeah. I have to pick up the slack, since the girls are in school.” Pinke put her hoof to her chin in thought. “I know!” she said. “You could go see Screwball! Maybe she has something she needs help with!” “Really? A pony like her doesn’t seem bothered by much.” “Well, even if she doesn’t have anything for you to do, you can at least visit her. I spoke to her at the party, and she says she hardly sees you.” “You spoke to her? She’s only said one thing to me out of the entire time I’ve known her.” “Well, that’s because she needs to trust you more. She seems to like you, so just go over and visit her, be neighborly.” “Well, all right. I do feel a little bad about not seeing her so much. So many ponies and only so much time to see them in one day.” “Tell me about it. That’s why I like throwing parties so much: because all my friends are there at the same time, and I can see them all there!” She beamed toothily. “Well, bye, Davie! I’ve got’s me some more splashing to do!” And with that, she bounced away, splashing about in the puddles as she went. Shaking my head a little at her antics, I directed my steps to Screwball’s home. *** When I arrived at Screwball’s, I thought about knocking on the window, since it had been replaced with a door, but she couldn’t possibly expect me to get in that way, so I knocked on the window-door. The thing was, knocking on the wood of the window made the exact sound of a doorbell ringing. In any case, Screwball swung the window-door open, and her face lit up upon seeing me. “Hey, Screwball. Just thought I’d stop by and see how you’ve been. May I come in?” She nodded eagerly, making a noise not unlike the tinkling of sleighbells, then waved her hoof in a ‘come on in’ way. I stepped through the window-door, closing it behind me. The inside of Screwball’s house was even nuttier than the outside. The living room, which we had come into, had a wallpapered floor and shaggy carpeting on the walls and ceiling, including a rug in the middle of the ceiling, through which a chandelier hung, bearing lit candles...only the candles were what was burning, not the wicks. Speaking of fire, there was no fire in the fireplace at all, but a kind of brick tub full of bubbling water. Maybe that was where the bubbles came from. Screwball seemed to be eyeing me expectantly, as if curious of my opinion. “It’s...very unique, Screwball,” I said. “I kinda like it.” Screwball smiled brightly. “Actually, I came by to see if there was anything you wanted help with. I’m trying to help some filly friends of mine with a racing derby coming up, and we’re all trying to raise money to buy stuff to build a cart. Of course, I’m not saying that to try and guilt-trip money out of you, but if there’s anything you wanted help with, I’m your guy.” Screwball pondered for a moment, then gasped as if an epiphany had struck her. Motioning for me to follow her, she led me upstairs. Well, I should say I did the best I could to follow her upstairs, as each step was cut in half, leaving the left side, then the right side of the next, then the left side of the next, and so on. It was like trying to walk across rocks through a stream, though this stream was more like a waterfall. We arrived in what looked like a bathroom. It looked fairly normal for a bathroom, except for the fact that there was what looked like a garden in the toilet, and long, thin spaghetti noodles hanging from the shower head. I glanced at Screwball. “How do you get by?” I asked. She merely shrugged. “So, you want me to get rid of the spaghetti and whatever’s in the toilet?” She nodded and handed me a pot with a pair of tongs inside, and a small trash can with some gardening shears. I suppose the pot was for the spaghetti and the trash can for the grass in the toilet. Why the pot, though? Was she planning to cook the spaghetti when it was removed? “Er, I’ll do what I can,” I said. Screwball smiled and trotted out of the room. I wouldn’t have minded her sticking around. I had the suspicion that her house had certain rules to it, and I didn’t want to mess anything up. Funny how that sounded: rules in a house that didn’t even seem to follow the laws of nature. At any event, I got started with the showerhead. The tongs actually seemed to work quite effectively, as the spaghetti came out cleanly and abundantly into the pot. What I wasn’t expecting, though, was the shower of red goop from the shower head as soon as it was cleared of noodles. At first, I was extremely grossed out, and nearly dropped the pot, but one sniff told me it was tomato sauce, and warm sauce at that. The last thing needed was wheatballs to come spilling out afterward, when, lo and behold, they somehow did, as if the shower just spit them out like teeth knocked loose from a fist fight. Well, there was Screwball’s lunch, I suppose. Next, I moved on to the toilet. I’d never done much with gardening before, but I just took a whack at it, snipping away at this bit of grass and throwing the trimmings in the trash. I set these aside for her to deal with. Who knows? Ponies eat grass; she might consider it Parmesan cheese. The odd thing was, no matter how much I snipped, it didn’t seem to be getting any smaller, and it was getting on my nerves. Finally, out of frustration, I grabbed the grass and just pulled up. Sure enough, it lifted out like a drain plug, set in a hard-packed dirt bottom, like what you’d find in a flower pot. With a gurgle, the toilet flushed itself and refilled. So, did that mean she hadn’t been able to go to the bathroom with this thing in there? Ugh. “Screwball!” I called, bringing the pot down with me, as I carefully navigated the stairs. “It’s all cleared up now!” Screwball came trotting into view at the bottom, a bag clutched in her teeth. Come to think of it, what was it with ponies keeping their bits in burlap sacks? Did none of them have purses or wallets or anything? She took one look at the pot full of spaghetti, and her face lit up. Setting the bag down, she accepted it from me and took it off with her to the kitchen. She wasn’t seriously going to eat it, was she? I was just kidding when I thought it’d be her lunch. That stuff came from her danged water pipes! Then again, was that how she got her food, through the plumbing? Then how would she get her water? My musings were interrupted when she came back. She once again picked up the sack on the floor and handed it to me. “Well, thanks, Screwball, but how much is in here?” Screwball gave the side of the bag a poke, and a number appeared in the burlap, like gleaming neon: 35. “35 bits? For just that? You sure?” Screwball nodded. “Well, gosh, thanks.” Then, after a pause, I said, “Listen, I know I haven’t been seeing you as often as I probably should, but I’m going to try to do better. On top of that, you could always come visit me. My door’s always open to visitors.” Screwball’s face lit up gleefully. “I knew you’d like the idea,” I said. “So, I’ll see you around, ok? I’m glad I could be of service.” Screwball nodded and nuzzled against my arm in a rather doggish fashion. She then led me to one of the window doors. Thankfully, she must have noticed I’d be more used to those, and, even more fortunately, it was one on the ground floor. She waved goodbye as I headed for home, the sack in my arms. *** As I half-expected, Ironmane was waiting at the door when I returned home. There were some tired bags under his eyes, but otherwise, he looked the same as ever. “Sorry I’m late, Minister. I was helping somepony with some plumbing issues.” “Indeed?” asked Ironmane, raising an eyebrow. “It must have been an unusual blockage, to be paid for so handsomely.” “It was for a...well, rather unique pony, sir. It’s all for the derby, too. I’ve been taking care to reserve the stipendiary pay I receive, so as not to splurge all of my resources.” “Mm. Good show. Just take care not to mix up your recent earnings with your pay, David. That might prove regrettable.” So saying, he levitated the bag containing my stipend into my arms. “Thank you, Minister. How are things? You look a little exhausted.” “Nothing unusual in my department. I’ve just been traveling across the nation this past week, sorting out certain matters.” “Is anything wrong?” “Not at the moment, but Brutus has reported that the dragons are only thinking of what they can get out of being allies with ponies. I shan’t hesitate to say that their greed of jewels often supersedes other matters on their minds. It has become the council’s priority to make sure they get what we have agreed to, and nothing more. Dragons are crafty, David. They enjoy exploiting loopholes.” “But isn’t Brutus something like a chief among them?” “He is, so any dragon who wishes to take from us must go through him.” “Wow. He really does want to see peace between ponies and dragons.” “So it would appear, but he is saying it’s purely for monetary purposes, nothing more.” “I see. Well, I won’t keep you, Minister.” “Thank you. Until next week, David.” He trotted off, with his usual stiffness, but for some reason, I just couldn’t get over that tired look on his face. He looked like he was going through some really tough times, but how could that be? A job like his must have demanded no less than what he was currently doing before I arrived. What could he be losing sleep over that hadn’t wearied him before? He was the last pony I should ask about that, so I went back inside, separating my stipend with what Screwball had given me: 35 bits added to the pile, plus the few Scootaloo always donated on her delivery days. As it turned out, Scootaloo did arrive in the afternoon, but looking like she had just taken a tumble through a tree. She was covered in tree sap and pine needles, and looked glum. “Hey, Scoot. What’s the matter?” “Hi, Dave. I thought I could earn a few extra bits by helping Mom deliver some packages, but I took a shortcut through the forest and ended up crashing.” “Ohh, that stinks. I’m sorry, Scoot. Your mom didn’t yell at you, did she?” “I thought she would, but she was just puzzled about how a simple delivery could have been messed up like that. Somehow, that hurts worse than being yelled at...” She hung her head. “Aw, Scootaloo, don’t be that way,” I said, laying a hand on her mane. “You at least tried. Plus, you don’t have to worry. I made a whopping 35 bits today.” She raised her head so rapidly that it knocked my hand away. “Really? That’s awesome! Who did you help? Some really rich pony?” “Screwball, actually.” Scootaloo raised an eyebrow. “Screwball? That kooky pony who lives in that weird house?” “Yeah. She’s a little strange, but she’s friendly, and apparently grateful for helping her out.” “Well, that makes sense. Bits are bits, anyway. Speaking of, here’s my contribution.” She laid out three bits in my palm. “Thanks, Scoot. Don’t let this whole package thing get you down. It was just an accident.” “All right. See ya, Dave!” She trotted off, while I went to add her bits to the pile. This proved difficult, as the coins were saturated with tree sap, and stuck to my palm as I tried to drop them in. “Eeyuck,” I groaned. “Maybe I should wash these off before adding them. I wouldn’t want any of the other bits to get gooked up.” Monday, November 12: 274 bits. *** The next day, Sparkler asked for our assistance at the jeweler’s where she worked. It seemed like a simple task: organizing new gems, freshly-dug and washed off, into the containers where they belonged. The only problem was, not only were they supposed to be arranged by size and color, but by luster, facets, and other geological factors that I didn’t even understand. Try explaining that to a little kid, let alone four, who volunteer to help! Unfortunately, Sparkler couldn’t stay around to supervise; she had to help somepony else who worked there clean and shine a new shipment of gems, so we were left to our own devices. I did the best I could to remember Sparkler’s instructions, but all the big words she had bounced around, like iridescence, optic character, and chatoyancy were scrambling up my remembrance of her instructions. The girls, over whose heads all of her instructions seemed to bounce, just resorted to putting all of the gems the same color together, which I’m sure was not entirely what Sparkler had in mind. Indeed, when she came back, the look on her face told us she was not happy. She didn’t yell at us or even scold her sisters. She just said, in a tone that told us she was exercising great patience, “Good enthusiasm, but I think I’ll take it from here.” I don’t know why, but I felt like she should have shouted at us; this restraint only made me feel guiltier. Dinky especially seemed to take this hard, probably because she knew her sister better. She might also have been dreading what would happen when Sparkler told her mother what happened. This was surely gonna set her back, and it was our fault. As we were leaving, however, Sparkler called to me. “Dave?” I froze and turned around slowly, expecting a tirade at last. “Yes?...” “Would you like to join us for dinner tonight?” “Huh? You want me to come over, after I screwed up? How far is this going to set you back?” “Not as far as you’re probably worrying about. I’ve had worse days, trust me. I blame myself for not being here to supervise, but what can you do?” “Well, er, sure, I’d love to come over for dinner.” “And do you think you can bring along your little neighbor? Scootaloo and Dinky had a lot of fun with her on Nightmare Night, and Mom’s taken a fancy to her after seeing her at the party last weekend. We’d love to have her over.” “Sure! I’ll see if she can come.” She smiled gently at me, then went back to sorting the gems. Feeling like I’d just dodged a bullet the size of a football, I turned to head back, and almost ran into Caramel. “Whoops! Sorry, Caramel.” “Don’t worry about it.” He said this rather briskly and immediately stepped past me to talk to Sparkler. Something told me I knew what he was here for, but I thought it best not to badger him about it, so I took my leave to rejoin the Crusaders. *** Dinner at the Hooves’ was a much more pleasant affair. Moonlight was more than happy to accompany me, and the six of us had a wonderful meal of pasta with a creamy alfredo sauce prepared by Derpy herself. The motherly mare had Moonlight sit beside her, and the two struck up a friendly chat about this and that, and something about Derpy’s doctor friend, most of which I missed because Scootaloo and Dinky were showing me conceptual drawings of what the cart was going to look like when it was done. I wondered who was going to be the architect who would handle it, as I had no experience with that kind of thing. What they had decided on, however, was the name: the Rainbow Avenger, an homage to Rainbow Dash. I was sure our local speedster was going to love that. After dinner, Dinky begged Moonlight to do a scene out of Daring Do for them, since they had such a fun time playing it on Nightmare Night. Flattered, Moonlight consented, but only if I could play Ahuizotl or one of the other villains. I did love doing my own voices, so I agreed. With the Hooves’ as our audience, we decided to play the scene in The Basilisk’s Eye, when a younger Daring first met Ahuizotl. “Ahh, so this is Carbon Date’s best student. I have been waiting for you, Daring Do,” I said, putting on my best sinister, deep voice and pretending to twirl an evil mustache, though Ahuizotl didn’t really have one. “And why’s that?” asked Moonlight, in a belligerent tone. “So I can wipe my paws clean of this business,” I said, clenching my hand. “Carbon Date stole that glory which should have been mine! I am the true master of treasure-hunting, and he is nothing more than a copycat! I did it first, but everypony took his side over mine!” “Can’t imagine why,” said Moonlight, sarcastically. “Silence! It ends here and now, Miss Do! Carbon Date is out of the picture, but that still leaves you!” “Yeah! That still leaves me to kick your butt!” ... By the end of our performance, the Hooves’ broke into applause, and Moonlight and I stepped forward to take a bow. “That was amazing!” said Scootaloo. “It’s like you really were Daring Do and Ahuizotl! It was almost as good as the movie!” (Movie? There’s a movie?! I gotta check this out someday!) “Bravo! Bravo!” squeaked Dinky. Derpy and Sparkler beamed where they sat. After that, Sparkler took the kids upstairs to get washed up for bed, but not before the little fillies bid Moonlight and me good night. Derpy trotted over to us. “Thanks, you two. It means a lot to me that you decided to entertain the kids tonight. Some nights I’m just exhausted after a long day’s work.” “We’re happy to help, Derpy. Right, Moonlight?” “Mmhmm!” Derpy let off an enormous yawn. “I’d better get some shut-eye myself. Good night.” “Good night, Derpy.” “Night!” The motherly mare left us as we made our way home, my throat a little raw from having to keep up that Ahuizotl voice. Tuesday, November 13, 277 bits. *** Wednesday made me remember that I should seek out Magnum and see what he had to say about a monthly bowling league. With that in mind, I went to Rarity to ask where her folks lived. When I arrived, it was to find her struggling with a garbage bag, even though it was held in her unicorn magic. “Rarity! Let me give you a hand with that.” Before she could say anything, I picked up the bag and heaved it to the trash can she had been making for, jamming it down into it. “Oh, Dave, how chivalrous! You didn’t have to do that for me.” “It wasn’t a problem,” I said, with a vivid remembrance of diaper-filled bags. “I’ve had some prior experience. I wanted to ask where your folks lived. I need to ask your dad something on Big Macintosh’s behalf.” “Oh, is that so? It must be about their bowling nights.” She said this with a slight eye-roll, but she was smiling while doing it, so there was no harm. “They live right in front of the pier near Ponyville Pond. Father loves fishing, and quite a number of sports, as a matter of fact.” “House in front of Ponyville Pond’s pier,” I said. “Got it. Thanks, Rarity.” “Anytime, darling.” With Rarity’s directions, I made my way to this Ponyville Pond, and found the house indicated. Sure enough, there was Magnum, sitting at the pier, but he looked like he was in a bad temper. His fishing line was all jumbled up, and he was muttering to himself as he was trying to undo it with his magic. “Um, excuse me, Magnum?” “Can’t ya see I’m-” Magnum began, turning around sharply, but when saw it was me, he relaxed at once. “Oh! It’s you, sport. Long time no see.” “Do you need some help with that?” “Wouldn’t mind if ya could. This is what I get for bein’ lazy with my fishing equipment.” “Well, lemme see if I can undo that.” I sat beside him and began trying to undo the knot in the line. It was a particular doozy, but I kept at it, all the while talking. “I actually came by to give you a message from Big Macintosh.” “Oh yeah? What’s he got to say?” “He’s thinking of starting a monthly bowling league, and wants to know if you’d be interested in being a part of it.” “Would I be interested? You bet I would! I love those nights on the lanes! ‘Course, if Cheerilee’s gonna start one too, the missus would want in on it, and we’d probably have to have Rarity look after Sweetie Belle. I’m sure she wouldn’t mind.” “Nah, those two get along great.” “Though that reminds me: you’re helping her and her little friends make a racing cart, right?” “Uh-huh.” “I might be able to help ya. The missus and I are going out of town early this Saturday, and we’ll be back by night. We’d ask Rarity to, but she’s going up to Canterlot to visit a friend of hers. Do you think you can watch Sweetie Belle for the day? We’ll pay ya 3 bits an hour.” I had to pause in my unknotting to consider this: from morning until the evening, 3 bits an hour would equal about 30 bits, maybe a little more. That would give us a big jump into the price territory. “I think I can do that. I’m sure we’ll have plenty of fun.” Magnum clapped me on the back, almost dunking me into the pond. “Thanks, son! Knew I could count on ya!” Ignoring the dull sting in my back, I pulled out the last knot. “And done! How’s that?” Magnum let out a low whistle. “Smooth work, Dave! You’re a natural. Here, have a couple for your trouble.” He tossed me 3 bits from his shirt pocket, which I accepted. He then gave his fishing pole a toss, and the lure landed with a plunk into the lake. “Thanks, Magnum. When should I be over on Saturday?” “Around 8, and tell Big Mac I’m in for this bowling league of his.” “You bet. See you later!” I got up and left Magnum to his fishing. As I turned the corner to walk back into Ponyville, I saw his fishing line pull taut. He must have caught a whopper. Wednesday, November 14, 283 bits. *** Thursday had me helping Granny Smith with her shopping. As an accomplished baker, she tended to go through baking supplies rather quickly, but usually had Applejack or Big Macintosh to help her out. However, Applejack had to tend the apple stand in the marketplace, and Big Mac was tending the fields, so, naturally, I volunteered. She kept up a running conversation as we walked, my arms getting progressively loaded with shopping bags. “I mean, honestly, you’d think Aunty Applesauce gilded that ol’ parasol in gold! It was just one little pinata, too! Nothin’ to get her haunches in a bundle about!” All I could really manage were ‘Uh-huh’s and ‘Mm-hmm’s and ‘Oh really?’s, but Granny Smith didn’t seem to notice. She just seemed glad to have someone to talk to. At last, we were finished, and she gave me 5 bits for my efforts when we unloaded back at Sweet Apple Acres. I thanked her and made my way back into Ponyville, scouting about for more ponies in need of assistance. I didn’t find somepony, though, but somezebra. Zecora was milling about with a pair of basket-like saddlebags slung at her sides. She seemed to be looking for something. “Hi, Zecora!” I greeted. “Dave! What good fortune, my dear! I was searching for you, and now you are here!” “Searching for me?” “Yes, indeed. I have a favor to ask. Do not be discouraged, it is but a small task. I discovered a new potion with effects that astound, but sadly, one ingredient could not be found. I was about to give up on this ancient brew, when I remembered that the ingredient lies with you.” “With me?” I asked, confused. “I don’t understand.” “I only require a bit of your hair. Do not take fright, I shan’t shave you bare.” “You want some of my hair? What is it, Polyjuice Potion?” “Even I do not know the full effect it produces, but I will quickly find out when the hair is in its juices.” “Are you sure it’s wise, Zecora? I mean, I’m not doubting your skills as a potion-maker, but attempting a potion even you don’t know the effect of?” “The book containing this potion is old, and its pages are besmirched with mildew and mold. What little information I could find, said that the potion enhances the mind. You need not fear for my safety in this. I have survived many a brew that had gone amiss.” “Well...if you’re sure, I guess it couldn’t hurt to lend you some of my hairs.” Zecora reached into her saddlebags and pulled out a pair of scissors in her teeth. Gingerly, I took them and, as she held out a little glass jar, snipped a few tufts of hair into it. “Much obliged for your help, my human friend. I shan’t have to make you do that again. Now, let me make that worth your while: 10 bits to add to your race-cart pile.” She laid out 10 bits into my palm. “How do you know about the race?” I asked. “Apple Bloom told me once, when she came to my hut, so I shall help you overcome this financial rut.” “Thanks, Zecora. I hope this potion you’re making turns out great.” Zecora smiled, and was turning to go, when she stopped and said, “By the way, Dave, if I may speak, what is Polyjuice Potion? It sounds quite unique.” “Oh, that? I read it in a book. It transforms you into someone else, based on a little something of theirs you put into it.” Zecora seemed to mull this over for a moment, then, with a slight shrug, she bid me farewell and started off on her way. A potion that enhanced the mind, huh? Could it heal patches in it, like that one I had about how I came here, and what I was doing before? Thursday, November 15: 301 bits. *** With yesterday’s earnings, we were more than halfway there, but we were also halfway through the month, and we still needed time to actually buy the materials, build the cart, and test drive it. We had to step up our games if we wanted to make the deadline. As I wandered about that day, I heard someone grunting, as if trying to lug around something heavy. Following the noise, I found it to be Spike, who was trying to drag a wagon full of of books all by himself, toward the library. He wasn’t making much headway, either. “Spike! What are you doing?” I asked, running up to him. Spike released his hold on the wagon and stopped to catch his breath. “Oh, hey, Dave...how’s it...going?” he panted. “Not too bad. Can you say the same for yourself, though?” “Oh, this?...Twilight wanted me...to fetch a new...order of books from...the Canterlot library...Some extra copies they...had lying around. Thing is...they never said...how many...so I’m stuck with...dragging these home.” “You, all by yourself? That’s nuts! Stand aside, I’ll help you!” Spike stepped out of the way. I gripped the handles of the wagon and started forward. It was a heavy load, but it was at least moving. Spike walked beside me, looking on in amazement. He probably thought I was some kind of Hercules, doing this kind of thing. Eventually, we reached the library, where Twilight was waiting. She took one look at us and gasped. “Spike!” she said, running over. “Oh my goodness, they had that much?! Oh, why didn’t they say anything? I never would have sent you by yourself if I’d known! You poor thing, I’m so sorry!” She dragged Spike over into a motherly kind of hug. Spike didn’t resist, but he let out a groan. “C’mon, Twilight, not in front of Dave. It’s not your fault.” “I know, but I still should have gone with you. There’s no excuse.” She then looked up at me. “Thanks so much, Dave. If you hadn’t come along, Spike might have been dragging that cart until sundown. I’m going to have a word with the Canterlot library about being too vague.” “It was no trouble at all, Twilight. I couldn’t let Spike suffer this on his own.” “Well, that kind of hard work deserves a reward. How does 20 sound?” She levitated a bag of bits into my hand. “Wow. Thanks, Twilight.” “You’re very welcome. And as for you, Spike, there’s a nice big sapphire with your name on it.” Spike’s green eyes lit up instantly at the words. That seemed to have taken the soreness out of his bones. “Do you want any help bringing that cart in?” I asked. “No thanks,” said Twilight. “I can handle the unloading, but thanks very much.” After she placed a big hunk of blue gemstone into Spike’s hands (which he immediately started to munch on), she began levitating the books inside en masse. I had to admit, it made me a little jealous seeing unicorns have it easy like that, but could I really hold it against them? “By the way, Twi, what Daring Do book comes after Legend of the Earthwing?” I asked. “Ah, that’s an easy one!” said Twilight, levitating another book forward and into my hands. “Daring Do and the Staff of Star Swirl. Probably my favorite out of all of them!” I could probably guess why. “Legend of the Earthwing is turning out really good. I’m not through it yet, but I like how it doesn’t need suspenseful action or a big bad or even a legendary treasure to keep it exciting.” “I know! It’s wonderful!” “Well, I should probably let you get to this. Take it easy, ok, Spike?” “Will do!” Spike called, his mouth full of gem fragments. I took my leave with my bits and book, while Twilight continued unloading the cart. Later in the day, I found out that Scootaloo had managed to redeem herself by successfully delivering packages for Derpy this time, and earned a solid 10 bits for a job well done. This, coupled with the 3 she always lent me from her newspaper job, was bringing us ever closer. We only had two weeks left until the race, but I could feel we’d get to 500 soon enough. Friday, November 16: 334 bits.