//------------------------------//
// Chapter 2 - Two Background Ponies Make a Delivery 
// Story: Two Background Ponies Go On An Adventure 
// by Piccolo Sky 
//------------------------------//

Twelve hours later, and the two were on the “open road”.
Well, open road was something of a relative term in Equestria. Seeing as they needed to save their cash, there wasn’t going to be a train ride to Manehattan. Instead, hitching up Carl’s used Hevvy wagon, the two went out as a “yoke” to go cross country. At the moment, they were rapidly galloping across the countryside, the wind blowing in their manes as they dashed along. Yet in spite of the good speed they were kicking up, there were many other fast-moving wagons on the road too, and some of them moving a lot quicker.
Abruptly, one creature passed them…what looked like a giant boar the size of Carl and Sam and their wagon, and who splashed through an amount of mud that kicked up and sprayed up and splattered in both of their faces. Both of them grimaced as they saw him ride on.
“…I hate road hogs.” Sam grumbled.
“That’s ok…I’ve got wipers on this thing.” Carl answered as he moved his head over to one of the support struts on his side, over what looked like a small button, and pressed it with his snout. Immediately, a small compartment opened on the wagon, allowing a pair of mice with squeegees to run out along either rail to either pony and wipe off their faces with them. Unfortunately for Sam, it only seemed to rub off a few streaks and left most of the mud behind before they turned and ran back in. Seeing this, Carl grimaced and shrugged.
“Sorry…the wiper blade on that side is busted.”
Sam shook his face a few times and groaned. “Whatever… Right now, it’s the least of my problems. I gave Dawn the news.”
“What’d she say?”
He sighed. “Not only did she barely buy it, but Stonewall was there and he gave me a look like I was heading out to have an affair. I’m sure that’s what he’s continuously telling her, too… Dude, I’m not sure we can make it a month. He’s going to be trying to sell Dawn on a different boyfriend ever…”
Suddenly, a horn rang out from the opposing lane as Sam went wide-eyed and he and Carl quickly swerved the wagon back into their lane. He looked to Carl, and saw he was leaning down trying to sip some coffee out of a caddy he had strapped to his chest. 
“What the Hell, man? Watch your driving!”
“Oh, come off it! We didn’t hit anyone!” Carl shot back. “But we will if I fall asleep at the reins!”
“You knew we were heading to Manehattan, man! Why did you stay up late last night?”
“I was trying to see if I could find a Marble Creamery open in the next town over. I looked until 3 AM and couldn’t find one.”
Sam groaned and rolled his eyes.
“Anyway, the important thing is to just keep her calm until ‘Sergeant Slaughter’ leaves town. It’ll be easier after that. Besides, doesn’t she trust that I’m with you?”
Sam gave him a look. “…Dude, you never really picked up on the fact that Dawn doesn’t really like you, did you?”
Carl raised an eyebrow. “Really?”
“Well, she never really forgave you for getting on her best friend’s case all night that her voice seemed to keep changing. Even after we both told you to drop it.”
“Hey, it was legitimate! The mare’s voice is always different whenever I pass by her on the street or at the supermarket! It might be cancer, man! She should have it checked out!”
“…Then the one time we went to the movies together, you talked for almost the entire film about how no matter how you spread Zap Apple jam, it always still makes a neat rainbow…”
Carl frowned. “That’s pretty messed up, you have to agree.”
“All I know is you better not pull that stuff at the wedding. I barely got her to accept you as the best stallion, and Stonewall is likely to grind you up for low-grade dog chow if you do anything to ruin it.”
“…Sam, you ever think that maybe getting married to a mare that anal with a dad that psychotic isn't a good idea?”
Sam gave him an angry look. “Do not start, Carl. You’re the one who can’t drop anything and who gets into all sorts of sh’t because of it.”
“Yeah…” Carl dully answered. “And I’m also the one who had to come up with a plan to bail you out that you’d never have thought of.” He grumbled, before looking forward again. Suddenly, he looked up more. “There it is…”
Sam looked as well, and both ponies saw it as they ran down the latest hill. Spreading far and wide in the distance, the city of Manehattan in all of its glory, spread as far as they eye could see in both directions and filled with buildings taller and more sophisticated than the two had ever seen in their lives, all while overlooking the wide sea.
“Whoa…I’ve never seen it like this before…” Sam admitted. “It’s a lot bigger than I read about…”
“Yup…the ‘Big Sugarcube’ herself.” Carl added.
“I dunno, Carl. I’m not exactly a ‘big city pony’…”
“Aw Hell, Sam. We got through Canterlot easy enough. This won’t be that bad.”
“I’m not even sure I can find that condo in all of that…”
“Relax.” Carl answered. “Last Hearth’s Warming Eve, I got a Gremlin GPS system.” With that, while running, one of his hooves went back and slammed into the rear of the wagon. “Hey! Gremlin! Wake up and tell us how to get to 4731 Meadowbrook Terrace!”
Abruptly, the “seat” region of the wagon opened up like a lid, and out came a rather grumpy and sore looking green, long-eared creature.
“You know…you could throw some food in there from time to time…” He grumbled. “A bowl of ramen…a box of raisins…a Pop Tart… Or how about a pack of smokes? None of those damn Alpacas, either…”
“Hey!” Carl snapped back. “I didn’t ask for a lecture!”
“Asshole…” The gremlin muttered as he put on a pair of glasses and pulled out a road atlas from within the compartment. Unfolding it in front of him, he exhaled. “Alright…take Exit 52.”
“Dude, we just passed Exit 52 a mile ago. Come on! Get your head in the game!”
“Alright, alright! Give me a second…” He paused after saying that, then rolled his eyes and then sighed. “I mean…” He held up his hands on either side of them and shook them in an exaggerated manner. “Recalculating…”





An hour later, Sam was having second and third thoughts about this plan.
The truth was he had only heard about the neighborhood of this place from his dad, who was the only one who had gone out to actually see it, and that was nearly ten years ago at this point. Now that he was finally coming to the place itself, he saw that not a whole lot had improved in ten years. Although both ponies were forced to slow down now that they were in town and looking for their destination, they were looking around rather uneasily.
While the sounds of police sirens rang in the distance, the two ponies struggled to avoid stepping into garbage, scum, and what looked like “meadow muffins” spread all over the street in piles. Most of the buildings were dilapidated and falling apart, and the fronts were lined with shady-looking, beefy thugs who were pulling the wings off of some poor pegasus or mares wearing trashy clothing and too much makeup snorting “bute” out of makeup tins. Used oral syringes littered the sidewalk in one place while a street graffiti artist was using spray paint to make a mural of Commander Hurricane on a wall of an abandoned ink well plant. Loud music, the sounds of fighting, and the occasional sound of what had to be a magic-missile-shot went out everywhere as they moved along.
“…I kind of wish I had bought a rifle from Stonewall now.” Sam muttered. “I think I’d feel safer being a Luna-worshipper in Saddle Arabia.”
“Just for a month, Sam…” Carl muttered…although he too was looking uneasy. He turned to the gremlin. “Dude, how much farther is it?”
The gremlin was looking in confusion at the map. “Well…if you would have subscribed for auto-updates, I would have gotten the latest atlas in the mail. At any rate, it should have been here by now…but then again, that street had an unlisted fork…so many we should have gone straight through that last traffic light instead of making a right turn-”
Abruptly, a magic blast from a window, completely stray, blasted a hole through where the gremlin was looking. He stared at it a moment as it slowly smoked, before calmly folding up the atlas and sticking it under his arm. He leaned out and gave a pseudo-smile to both stallions.
“Boys…you’re on your own.”
With that, he immediately went back in the compartment and closed it. Locking sounds were heard on the other side.
“…Quitter.” Carl snorted before looking forward again.
Sam sighed. “At this point, I’m starting to feel like we’ll be lucky if the place isn’t a crackhouse… Maybe we should-”
“Wait…there!”
Sam looked up at Carl’s urging, and saw a street sign up ahead. It was hanging a bit…and riddled with magic blast holes…but it still managed to read “Meadowbrook Terrace” and, below it, in smaller lettering: “4700”.
Carl immediately directed them around the corner, while Sam only looked more uncomfortable. “I don’t think there’s any meadow or brook anywhere near this road…” 
“Well, ‘Sh’tty Gang-Filled Neighborhood’ probably didn’t have a nice ‘ring’ to it…” Carl answered with a sigh. “Let’s just look for 4731…”
The two looked around a bit more, before finally settling on one gang-letter-covered, old, somewhat-decayed building complex. The wagon pulled up in front of it, and they halted. Both looked out and over it a moment, and found that the numbers, although a bit askew, clearly read: “4731”.
Carl looked to it a moment, then to Sam. “What do you think?”
Sam exhaled after a moment. “Well…I don’t smell horse piss from here, so it at least has that going for it.”
The two began to undo their connections to the wagon. Once both of them were free, Sam went to the back to start getting out the cleaning supplies and the sleeping bags. As for Carl, as he got out and looked around, he grimaced a bit.
“Terrific…no place to park and the bad part of town… Good thing I brought a ‘Club’.”
With that, he reached into the back of the wagon and pulled out a solid wooden club. He knocked his hoof against the side of it afterward, causing one of the mice to open its compartment and look out at him. Immediately, he thrust the club in its tiny arms, knocking it over.
“Now don’t let anyone touch the wagon.” He told the rodent. “Make sure you keep an eye on the hubcabs.”





Several minutes later, the two ponies had made their way to the third floor. Both of them had a large number of cleaning supplies straddled around their bodies as they made their way along, looking at the numerous signs of wear, tear, decay, and rot. Both of them looked rather uneasy at the whole thing, although Carl was definitely holding on better.
Sam was nearly swallowing. “Dude…I don’t think even a week long cleaning is going to do much in here. Some of that trash on the first floor fossilized. And that mildew spot we went by said: ‘Feed me…’”
“Relax, man.” Carl answered as he patted his own set of things. “This cleaner I got is industrial strength. If it was any stronger you could melt your way into a bank vault with it. After an hour, the place won’t even be capable of supporting life.”
“…I’m not sure it’s capable of supporting life now, Carl…”
The two soon reached the door to the condo. Both looked to each other once, exhaled, and then turned back. Sam fished out the key from his stuff and put it in the lock. He gave it a turn…only to pause and groan. “Terrific…”
“What’s wrong?” Carl asked.
“The door wasn’t locked. Either someone broke in or dad didn’t lock it when he left. That was ten years ago, man. There could be anything in there.”
Carl sighed and shook his head. “We’ll just have to deal with it. If we don’t get this thing clean in a hurry, we’ll never make it to that agency before they close.”
Inhaling a bit, Sam reached out and pushed open the door.
Both ponies immediately winced and recoiled as an old, stale, and rotten aroma filled their nostrils. The apartment itself had flies buzzing as well as bags of trash mounded everywhere so much with other bits of garbage, some paper waste but some food waste, spread everywhere. A number of roaches went scurrying on entering.
“Aw, Celestia! You gotta be kidding me!” Sam cried as he covered his snout.
“It smells like a grease trap…garlic…moth balls…and some sweaty dude’s nutsack in there!” Carl groaned. “Ugh! It’s like tear gas!”
“Feels like it’s laying eggs in my brain!” Sam threw in. “I feel like there’s damn flesh-eating bacteria in the air!”
Carl looked a bit more, then suddenly froze. “Dude…sick! There’s so much filth in there it’s actually moving away from the light!”
Sam looked as well. Soon, he noted one of the trash bags shifting. He went a bit wide-eyed.
“…That’s not filth, man. I think that’s some kind of animal…”
Both stallions stared a bit longer, and then began to step back…when the trash bag suddenly snapped up, and a hobo abruptly popped out from under it, looking around in surprise and confusion, for he seemed to be a bit drunk already.
As for Sam and Carl, they both jumped in surprise. “AAAH!”
The hobo immediately turned to them and did the same “Aah!”
“AAAAAH!”
“Aaaah!”
Both side shared screams for a moment, looking at each other, before the hobo seemed to calm down first. Relaxing, he looked at both of them, a bit puzzled, as they screamed a bit longer. Finally, they cut off as well, and just stared at him. When they did, he offered a weak smile.
“Oh…sorry, gents.” He said as he removed his old ball cap and tipped it. “You frightened me. My daily ‘siesta’ is usually from 10 to 12. Welcome to ‘Casa Pie de Rata’…finest bed and breakfast for the derelict and transient community for five years running. Our current rate is half of a six-pack per night, or you can take advantage of our special running right now and have the entire weekend for a jar of expired painkillers, a porno magazine, and four newspapers. Unfortunately, we’re booked solid for the next month unless the gentleman in Room 2 passed away last night and I haven’t had time to check yet…”
Carl and Sam both stared blankly a moment longer, before Sam sighed. “Dude…this is my condo.”
The hobo raised his eyebrows a bit. “Oh? Well, it is a very lovely place you have here, sir. It’s the talk of Manehattan, really. They did a special on it last February…”
Sam sighed. “That’s fascinating…now can you get out of here?”
He blinked. “…But I haven’t served breakfast to late risers yet. It’s one of our specialties today: expired bargain value macaroni and cheese with a side of two-day-old donuts.”
The blue stallion groaned. “Dude…get out of here! And tell whoever else is in there to leave too!”
The hobo frowned as he began to extract himself. “Very well…but I am not waking up the MacPheresons. They’ve been our patrons for three years now and I treat my faithful guests with respect…”
Both ponies facehooved.





As it turned out, once they finally got rid of the derelicts (including the crazy ones who tried to use their shoes to call the police on grounds of private property violations), the cleaning went better than one would think. They basically slipped up some rubber teeth-masks and tossed all the garbage and then continuously used Carl’s industrial strength cleaner everywhere until the tiny screams of parasites and bacteria ceased. Once all of that was done, and it was impossible to breathe the air in the condo directly without passing out from the fumes, the two quickly threw in their sleeping bags and whatever other items they had brought with them, such as some easy chairs, small tables, a minifridge, and whatever non-perishable food they had from home, as well as plenty of writing materials and some dragon fire that Sam had swiped from work as “severance”, the two went back out, hitched themselves to the wagon, and then moved out.
Finding the employment agency wasn’t too terrible bad. Plus, it seemed to be on the “better” part of town…or, more appropriately, right on the border of the train tracks that separated “smooth, classy, and sophisticated” from “rough, tacky, and drooling”. Just over the edge they found the large sign for “Bit Chompers Job Placement”, and both readily moved to it, parked the wagon in the lot, and then headed inside.
There were quite a few ponies already in, some looking more desperate than others. It caused a small amount of anxiety among the two. They themselves were pretty desperate for a job, but these ponies might want it even more and come in all the time. Plus, even if the job was terrible, if it paid good that was enough to attract someone straight off the street wanting work. However, they were encouraged a bit as the crowds moved fast, and each one left looking happier and more hopeful than before.
At last, the two were brought inside, and sat before a unicorn with narrow glasses and a business collar. She didn’t seem the friendliest type, as she looked over their resumes and job listings before her, her horn levitating a pen that left a mark here and there. They both ended up sitting there silently for about five minutes, waiting for her to come up with something.
“…So, Mr. Incarlsistency and Mr. Lys-Stensto-Carl-Sehproble…”
Sam swallowed. “Actually, that’s ‘Listens-To-Carl’s-Problems’. It’s Equestrian, not Chevalese.”
“What exactly are you looking for in a job?”
“Something that makes money.” Carl immediately answered.
The agent gave him a narrow look. “…Could you be more specific?”
Carl blinked. “…Something that makes an assload of money?” He suggested.
Sam sighed and looked to her. “Look…we’re really desperate for money right now, so we’ll take whatever pays the most that we’re qualified for, even if it’s a terrible job or overnight. We both want to be hired together, though.”
Carl looked to him. “I dunno, Sam. Maybe we should ‘divide and conquer’.”
Sam frowned at him. “Someone’s got to keep you from going ballistic, dude.”
The agent looked down and over the sheets. “…It says here both of you were fired from your last job, rather than quitting or letting go.”
“Oh, well…we had good reasons for that, though.” Sam interjected. “The guy at my place was a royal d*****bag who stole my promotion that I had earned and worked toward for months, and then fired me so he could take my salary for himself. He even purposely waited until 11:58 AM so that he could cheat me out of half a day of pay.”
The agent looked up to him with a dull expression.
Carl frowned at Sam. “Dude…right now, you should like a paranoid schizophrenic. Why don’t you just say he was trying to control your brain with radio waves while you’re at it?”
“What about you?” The agent asked. “How did you end up fired?”
The green stallion looked to her. “Oh…I tried to stab my coworker with a dull horseshoe when they pissed me off by drinking a ‘Speedy’s’ milkshake.”
The agent stared back blankly, then looked back to her forms. “…I’m afraid neither of you are eligible for ‘contract’ or ‘salary’ employment.”
Sam, meanwhile, snapped to Carl with a wide-eyed look. “And you gave me a hard time?!” He said in a harsh whisper. “Are you trying to get fitted for a facemask muzzle?!”
“Dude, if she’s smart enough to know how much those milkshakes suck, then she’ll understand!” Carl whispered back.
The blue stallion was about to clonk Carl over the head with his hoof, when the agent looked back up, and both of them quickly snapped forward and were attentive once again. She exhaled as she removed her glasses.
“I’m going to be perfectly honest with you two… There aren’t too many openings available for two ponies of your background…especially when one of you has a Find-the-Difference picture for a Cutie Mark and the other has an odd fungus…”
Sam frowned.
“At the moment, there’s only three. The first is overnight keepers at the Manehattan Zoo.”
Both ponies looked up a bit at that. “That might be good.”
“We both love animals.”
“You wouldn’t actually be working with the animals. They have specialists for that.” The agent explained. “Your duty would be more along the lines of scrubbing barf and feces out of the cages.”
The two grimaced at that.
“The next job would be working at an adult movie theater on the overnight shift.”
Both looked even more uncomfortable.
“Um…like…working the register?”
“Or…serving popcorn?”
“Cleanup detail.”
Both ponies gave a mutual shudder of revulsion. “I’m a little nervous as to what ‘door number three’ is…” Carl muttered.
“The third option is overnight delivery men.
Sam blinked on hearing that. “Are you kidding? We’ll take it!”
The agent raised an eyebrow. “I wouldn’t be so eager. This is overnight, which means you’ll be working in the dark. It’s bad enough trying to find your way around Manehattan during the day. You won’t get much in the way of tips, which is part of the reason it pays around 60 bits an hour…”
Carl nearly did a double-take. “60 bits an hour?! I’d make more in two hours at that job than I’d make an entire day at my old one!”
The unicorn sighed. “Yes, but you’ll be going into a lot of dark places in town. Delivery trucks are one of the most frequent targets for vandals, thieves, and looters in this city…especially at night. Some well-established companies see as much as 5% ‘shrinkage’ on average. Naturally, for small startup delivery companies like the ones you’ll be working for, you’ll see a lot more. There are some hazards to ‘life and limb’.”
“Ma’am…I consider ‘getting an STD from a theater seat cushion’ a real hazard to life and limb.” Sam immediately retorted.
“Yes. Please sign us up for that job before someone else takes it.” Carl added eagerly.
The agent paused a moment, then gave a shrug. “Very well. Since they signed up for us, it won’t take long at all for you to get cleared with the company. Just give me your residing address, I’ll mail your uniforms to it by tomorrow morning along with the address of where you’ll be working, and with any luck you’ll begin work tomorrow afternoon.”
“Awesome.” Carl grinned back.
“Thank you very much, ma’am.” Sam added. 
Both ponies looked to each other excitedly as they rose.





The thought of pulling in 60 bits an hour was nearly enough to make Sam swoon. He thought for sure that no one without a college degree or tech school could pull in that kind of cash. All the way back to the condo, he ran over how much money he could expect to get from all of this. Assuming 25% still went to taxes in one form or another, they could still bring home 45 dollars an hour apiece, for a total of 90 bits an hour. That was 3600 bits a week, or 14,400 bits by the end of the month. The thought nearly made him salivate. Pulling in that kind of cash would easily allow him to get a 10-year 100,000 bit loan. Perhaps Carl’s idea wasn’t so bad after all…
The two headed back and eagerly waited for tomorrow like foals at Hearth’s Warming Eve. As dangerous as this was, Sam kept thinking about how the stats were still in their favor at never having an incident. He could barely sleep that night. Well…the scent of bleach, the hardness of the floor, and the fact that at least eight hobos knocked on their door asking if there were any vacancies helped…but mostly it was eagerness for the next day. He managed somehow, though. After all, he didn’t want to fall asleep on his first day on the job.
The next morning, bright and early, the mail brought a package with their uniforms and the address. They weren’t terribly outstanding. The same uniforms any delivery worker would wear, but they’d do fine. After that, they loaded up and began to move out to the address. As an added bonus, the delivery company was still in the less “high income” part of town, but far from the urban decay portions.
As they went along, Carl let out a laugh. “Whoa man! I still can’t believe how much money we’re going to make at this job! I can’t believe I wasted my life at quality control! Dude…” He looked to Sam. “We might bring in more than that! I just realized we’re delivery guys at a 24 hour service! We could get tips!”
“I don’t know about that…” Sam answered, but kept smiling. “But I’ll admit, this is pretty sweet. This must be what most ponies living in this city have to shell out just to have a low-income living…but for a place like Ponyville we’re pretty high-on-the-hog.”
Carl grinned a bit longer, before his smile ebbed a bit. “…Still, dude, I’m kind of puzzled at all this. I mean…even if this job really is dangerous and demanding…60 bits an hour is a lot.”
“Don’t start knocking it now, Carl.” Sam responded. “You’re the one who thought we’d find a job like this coming into Manehattan. Let’s just focus on doing the best job we can and then getting out of here in a month.”
In the end, considering the size and complexity of the city, the two took about 40 minutes to finally reach their destination. By now, the sun was already starting to go down and near the horizon. Within a reconfigured warehouse taking up a large portion of a block was the company: “Solar Cycle Express”. After pulling around to the back, flashing their new name tags/badges, and parking in the employee lot, the two exited and began to head inside.
There wasn’t much to the building itself. After all, it was just a startup company. Aside from a few desks in one large room arranged in cubicles, there wasn’t much in the way of office space either. The two were directed by the sole secretary at the door to head to the back room, where a rather obese pony with a beard and white shirt was seated at a desk, waiting for both of them. As they ended, he first gave them both “hoofbumps” before they took their seats, much as they had with the agent, and sat before him.
“Gentleponies…welcome to Solar Cycle Express.” He stated as he sat down. “My name is Package Deal. You must be our new employees sent by Bit Chompers.”
Sam gave a nod. “Yes sir. I’m Sam Listens-To-Carl’s-Problems, and this is Incarlsistency.”
“Welcome aboard, gentleponies.” The large pony responded. “So…have either of you ever worked a delivery service before?”
The two looked to one another, then looked back. “Well…not exactly…”
“Not professionally…”
“Well, it’s very straightforward.” Package answered. “Both of you have wagon licenses, so you’ll be using the delivery company wagons. Nothing much to it. We’re a branch office, so most of the ‘thinking’ work was done at the relay offices. When you go into the warehouse, you’ll see the delivery chute. That takes in packages that get dropped off from the branch office. The packages come in at any hour, and we immediately take it to where it needs to go in Manehattan, any hour. Don’t worry…the people who get the 24 hour deliveries know we’re going to be there, so they’ll be open. And they have to be, because they have to sign. So, mostly, it’s a matter of reading addresses quickly and then getting the packages out. Got it so far?”
“Yup.”
“You bet.”
Package shrugged. “And that’s pretty much all there is to it. Most of the hazard comes from, you know, navigating the city…especially the bad parts. That comes with experience. And you need to get there fast. We are a 24 hour delivery service, and it’s not that good if we can’t get the packages to their destinations quickly.”
“Got it.”
“Right.”
Package leveled his gaze harder now, his smile ebbing a bit, and actually unnerving Sam and Carl a little.
“Here’s the most important part for a rookie employee. We’re a young, emerging company. We’re still building our reputation. Starting out, we understand speed may be a bit lacking for new deliverymen. However…one thing that will not, I repeat, not be tolerated from any employee is damage to a package. The packages must arrive complete and undamaged to the destination. Guard the packages with your life and make sure they arrive at the destination and get signed for. Once again, do not let the packages get damaged. If you fail to do so, I’m sorry…but you will immediately be sacked. Especially in the first couple weeks. Do I make myself clear?”
Both ponies were a bit nervous on hearing how serious Package Deal was about all of this, but they weren’t about to dispute their boss on the first day. They both gave a nod. “Crystal clear.”
“No problem, boss.”
His smile returned, and immediately he began to get up.
“Well then…welcome aboard and good night.”
As he stood to full height, both Sam and Carl looked confused.
“Er…pardon, sir?”
“I’m heading home, boys.” He answered. “Since this is a pretty new branch office, most of our deliveries come in during the day. You boys are the official deliverymen for our ‘night crew’. It’ll just be you and the slip handler working the window. So…get in the back, familiarize yourself with the training sheets on the walls and everything else, ask the slip handler if you need any help, and then off you go!”
“But…aren’t you going to train us at all?” Sam asked.
Package chuckled as he moved around to the door. “Please…this is an easy job, and so few deliveries come at night at this point that you’ll not have any problems. Besides, this will work out great for you. You’ll get some real experience in a ‘school of hard knocks’. Just get the package to its place, don’t let it get damaged, and you’ll do fine. See you tomorrow!”
Sam began to interject. “But…what if we get confused? Or have a real question?”
“Yeah!” Carl answered. “Like where’s the nearest Marble Creamery that’s still-”
It was too late. Package Deal left the door to the small office and shut it behind him. Not only that, but through the window the two saw that the few members of the staff still there were getting up and leaving as well. Both ponies blinked a bit on seeing this.
“Sheesh…and I thought the people back at Quality Control were eager to get out of here in a rush…” Sam remarked.
“Seems kind of weird that they’re just giving us the full run of the place on the first day…” Carl muttered.
“Unless this job is so pathetic that they don’t need to bother…or our resumes were so padded they think too much of us…” Sam answered. Afterward, he gave him a pat on the shoulder. “Come on…let’s get in the warehouse and see what we can dig up.”





A few hours later, and Sam was beginning to wonder about the agency. 
The two had moved into the back room and started looking over everything. Sure enough, there were lots of charts with safety regulations, proper lifting techniques, and standards for the company as well as a few manuals, but all of it, aside from the proper way to fill out a slip, was pretty basic. The branch office had three large delivery wagons ready, and the two made sure they could hitch up to one as quickly as possible. There was the delivery chute. It was connected outside but blocked off with those rubber strips so one couldn’t see the outdoors. Other than that…not much of anything. Just a window office that was sealed off to the “slip handler”: a grizzled old mare with a hearing aid who, between the hearing aid and talking through a voice speaker, seemed incapable of saying a thing to anyone. 
At first, the two had been looking everywhere and reading everything. However, after two hours had gone by…they found themselves sitting in the employee lounge on the side. Four hours after that…they were still sitting there.
Sam was reading one of the employee manuals, although it was the third time he had done so now. Carl, on the other hand, was playing with a roll of packing tape and sighing loudly. He looked to the time, and then emitted a groan.
“Damnit, if I knew we’d be jumping right in tonight, I’d have packed a lunch… That guy never told us what we’re supposed to do for breaks or meal periods… I’m not even sure we get one.”
“Ask the slip handler.” Sam answered as he turned a page.
The green stallion grimaced. “I gave up trying to talk to her an hour ago, around the time I found out I could call her a dirty name and she’d still just answer: ‘What?’ I’m almost wondering if she can’t speak Equestrian and that’s all she can say…”
“If you’re bored, read the map again.” Sam answered, still not looking up. “We’ve got to memorize that, after all.”
Carl sighed. “Damn, this is boring. I almost want to go to the bad part of town if it means something actually happens…”
“Well go right ahead and leave me out of it.” Sam retorted. “So long as we’re collecting bits just by sitting here, I’d rather get my paycheck from that rather than get the crap kicked out of me by some roving gang to get some cash. We don’t get health insurance, dude. Part of that has to come from our paycheck if we get in the hospital.”
“Even with that, man, you got to admit…something seems screwy about this. It’s a pretty cushy job, all in all.” Carl responded. “Both of us have made a good 160 bits just sitting around here waiting for something to happen. I don’t really see how this is supposed to stack up against scrubbing animal vomit or touching things no pony should ever have to touch…”
“Like I said…just count your blessings Carl.” Sam answered. “With any luck, most of our nights will be like this. We can’t screw up this job if there’s nothing to screw up.”
The green stallion merely groaned and leaned his head down again. “I just wish I knew when the break was so I could look for a place to get a shake, at least…”





Two hours later, even Sam was almost nodding off. The employee manual was spread over his head as he nodded and leaned back. As for Carl, he had decided to eschew any form of decorum and was spread out on the table, using it like a bed and not seeming to care who thought anything about it. Both were nodding off and nearly snoring at this point. As time ticked closer to 2 AM, the two buddies were nearly about to fall asleep…
That was when a sound like a mutant cricket suddenly blared through the entire warehouse area.
Immediately Sam snorted and bolted his head upright. Carl flailed about so abruptly that it snapped loose the “catch” on the table’s legs, which could fold, and suddenly slammed to the floor. 
“Ow! What the f*** was that?!” Carl snapped as he sorely leaned up from the ground.
“Is that a damn fire alarm?” Sam said as he shot to his feet and looked around. 
Suddenly, there was a blip of static over an unseen intercom, followed by a voice of an old lady…likely the slip handler.
“Incoming delivery.” 
Carl frowned as he got to his feet and looked over to the window. “Yeah, just tell us that next time! Don’t make it look like we’re going to get devoured by radioactive locusts!”
“What?”
Carl sighed. “Nevermind.”
“What?”
“I said nevermind!”
“What?”
The green stallion rolled his eyes and muttered an expletive. As for Sam, he stretched a bit, cracking his neck, before moving over to the slip handler window. A moment later, she pushed out a piece of paper through the slot to him, which he took up in his teeth before groggily going back over to Carl, who looked around a bit himself before sighing.
“Damnit, they don’t even have coffee in here…”
Sam reached him and put the slip down on the remains of the table before letting out a yawn. “Just slap yourself, dude. This is our first job. We need to stay awake to get it where it needs to go. First impressions.”
“Yeah, yeah…” Carl grumbled in response as he moved over to the slip and looked over it. “Must be pretty important if these people need it at 2 AM… What are we shipping? Medical supplies?”
Sam looked over the slip. “No…sprinkles.”
Carl paused, giving Sam a look. 
“…Sprinkles? That’s the big delivery?”
“To a 24 hour bakery. Apparently they’re the perishable kind and they have to be rush delivery.” Sam answered as he looked over the slip more.
“…They’re sprinkles, dude. You don’t even have to refrigerate them!”
“Whatever. Who cares so long as they keep us employed, and they’re something that can’t get ruined. It’s supposed to be guaranteed fresh, though. So we need to move fast.”
Carl merely sighed as he moved over to the delivery chute and stood at the bottom. “I still think this is a bit silly, but you’re right. Who cares so long as we get paid for it? How much are they sending?”
Sam looked over the slip for a moment. 
“…Well?”
“Hang on, Carl. This thing is hard to read… It says: ‘(1) Box, large’.”
Carl snorted again. “An overnight delivery service to deliver a big box of sprinkles. I guess if you’re a big enough deal, though, that’s something you need to-”
The green stallion was cut off as the package suddenly came through the chute and sailed down to him. Soon, Carl was getting bowled over as a refrigerator-sized box slammed into him, knocking the wind out of him, before he was slammed to the floor and pinned under it. Sam immediately dropped the slip and gaped.
“Holy sh’t!”
Carl merely grunted and moaned, both in pain and at being pinned as Sam blinked. A moment later, he looked to the slip, snatched it up, and looked it over.
“I didn’t think these numbers were the actual dimensions and weight if they were just sprinkles, but…damn! It really is this big and weighs more than an adult horse! How many sprinkles do they need?”
“Would you stop worrying about how big the box is and just get it the f*** off of me, you asshole?!” Carl suddenly shouted. “It’s cutting off the feeling to my legs!”
Sam immediately dropped the slip again and rushed over to Carl’s side. Putting his hooves on one end, leaning into it, and grunting, the two managed to slowly push it off of Carl. He gasped for air afterward, clearly sore and remaining on the ground. However, Sam quickly ran over to the other side and grabbed one end, beginning to pull.
“Carl, get off the floor! I need your help lifting this!”
Carl grumbled in response. “…No, I’m fine Sam. No permanent broken bones, Sam. No lasting injuries, Sam. Thanks for showing your concern, Sam…”
“Dude, just get up and help me with this damn thing! It says ‘This End Up’! I don’t want to get fired on my first delivery!”
Grumbling, Carl managed to get back on his feet. Moving over to Sam’s side, the two pushed the box up and steadied it. It was a bit of work just to do that, but in the end, after panting and sweating a bit, they stood back from it and looked at it.
“Damnit, these bakeries don’t kid around with sprinkles…” Carl muttered.
Sam looked to the side and raised an eyebrow. “’50 million count’? I guess it makes sense. How many things do we eat in a day that have sprinkles in them?”
“Ugh…we’re gonna need the jack…and I’m going to need a chiropractor…”
“Fine…let’s just load it up and get it out of here. More stuff might come in while we’re gone…”





An hour later…and the first delivery was definitely confirmed to “not be going well”.
Sure enough, as luck would have it, the delivery was to a darker and seedier part of town. Not quite the level of urban blight that the two had encountered earlier, but certainly not a place you would want to take your family for an outing. The neighborhood the two found themselves roaming around inside seemed to be poorly lit with a distinct decrease in the number of police officers on duty, and the few ponies they passed by didn’t seem to be of the wholesome sort, and they usually either broke up their conversations and scattered into the darkness like cockroaches, or they gave a dirty look to the two of them as they went along, seeming to stare too long at them. It didn’t help that their own wagon stuck out like a sore thumb. The streets of this neighborhood were practically empty, and the bright coloration logo of Solar Cycle made them more than obvious.
It may not have been where they lived (and the two realized it was probably a good thing that they were working overnights so they didn’t have to deal with the danger of actually residing in that neighborhood at night), but it was still nerve-wracking. Both of them were eager to drop off the package and be gone. Unfortunately, they were having a hard time finding the street, especially with the damaged street signs and heavy amount of darkness.
At the bare minimum, however, this was one of those “enclosed yoke” wagons. They actually had a metal covering with windshield over them, and slats in the floor where their feet went out to actually walk. It gave a sense or protection…even if it made things hard to see through window glares.
Sam looked out one window. “What’s that one sign we’re coming up on? I can’t read it…”
Carl looked out as well. “It’s Valley Way.”
“I think that’s our turn.”
“No, we need ‘Valley Run’.”
“Didn’t we pass Valley Run back there?”
“No, that was Valley Chase.”
Sam groaned. “This sucks, dude. I feel like we’re practically tempting the gangs to attack us by making the same loops around the same blocks…”
Carl looked back to the cab with a shrug. “At least this place is enclosed. Makes me feel a bit safer. Besides, check it out.”
His hooves went up and leaned on the dashboard as he reclined. 
“Pretty nice, eh?”
Sam, however, grunted and struggled now that he was the only one pulling the load, and snapped to Carl.
“Dude!”
Carl blinked, then realized it. “Oh yeah…sorry…” He immediately lowered his hooves and walked again.
Sam sighed and looked to the slip again, then back up. “Alright…we’re on Brook Drive. The place is supposed to be on Brook Drive. But I haven’t seen a bakery anywhere.”
“We got on it too soon, Sam. I told you back at the place it was three lefts, a right, two more lefts, three rights, and a left.”
“…Wait, you told me two lefts, two rights, two more lefts, two more rights, and a left.”
“Yeah, but that would just boil down to one left, so I changed it to three rights, a left, three more lefts, two rights, and a right.”
“Wait! Now you’re screwing me up! I thought that direction was one right, one left, two more rights, a left, and three more lefts before two rights!”
“No man! That was the first set of directions! Now we’re going a left, two rights, another left, two more rights, and a left!”
“…Maybe we should have just written down the road names considering the fact I’m mildly dyslexic.”
Carl groaned and facehooved. “Look…we know the place is on Brook Drive and we’re on Brook Drive. So we just keep going until we run into it or the road changes, then we turn around.”
“Carl, we’ve been on this road for twenty minutes. We can’t be anywhere near the bakery now, and the ponies are looking more nightmarish… I think that one over there has an eye growing out of his cheeks…”
“Then turn us around and go the other way! Maybe we missed it!”
“We can’t go that way! Brook turns into Creek, remember? Or did Brook split off…”
Carl groaned. “Dude…we’re both sleepy and hungry. No wonder we can’t find this place. We’re practically nodding off as it is. Let’s stop somewhere and get a bite to eat.”
Sam frowned. “Carl, we’re on the clock.”
“Yeah…and currently we’re running up the clock roaming around like lost asses. We’ll save them more money in the long run if we get some sugar in our blood. Otherwise we’ll roll right by the bakery even when we find it.”
Sam paused and thought about that for a moment, and finally sighed. “I guess you’re right. I’m so hungry at the moment I can’t really think of anything else… But where can we stop?”
Carl looked forward a bit, and spotted something. He stared a moment, then pointed.
Sam rolled his eyes. “Don’t tell me you found a ‘Marble Creamery’…”
“Nope. That’s a ‘Speedy’s’.”
Sam looked to him in puzzlement. “…Dude, I thought you hated ‘Speedy’s’?”
“I do. That’s why I want to go there. I got a plan to ‘stick it to the mare’ while we’re there.”
The blue stallion groaned. “Fine…but where are we supposed to park? That place is drive through or walk-in only and we can’t fit the delivery wagon through it.”
Carl looked around a bit, and then pointed across the street. “Right there, dude. Check it out. A freight warehouse.”
Sam looked to Carl in surprise. “Carl, those places are only for freight wagons!”
“And what are we? We’re kind of freight. We’ve got the clearance, right?”
“Neither of us can afford a ticket right now for illegal parking!”
“Oh, for the love of Celestia, Sam…do you see any cops anywhere in this neighborhood? We’ll park it right inside, get some food, and then come back! Simple! And look, it’s well lit in the interior! You can see it through the entrance! It’s safer than the street!”
Sam hesitated a moment, then finally groaned. “…Fine. But if any crap comes out of this, it’ll be your ass in hot water, not mine.”
With that, Sam pulled a ripcord that smacked a firefly on the right rear bumper, causing it to start flashing to “signal”, and the two turned the delivery wagon into the warehouse.





The warehouse itself had indeed been well lit, and was stuffed with various freight wagons as well as at least a thousand crates and boxes of various sizes and shapes. However, there didn’t seem to be a watchman, and nopony gave them any trouble for parking their vehicle there. As a result, they found the first open spot in the warehouse, and then quickly exited, locked it up, and then moved out of the open warehouse door. After crossing the street, they soon found themselves at the counter at Speedy’s.
The ‘cheery’ attendants at Speedy’s were reserved for the morning hours. For the late night shift, they had an attendant who looked like they would just as soon urinate in your soda as give you a smile. The fact that this attendant’s hair was in a mess with bags under her eyes didn’t help as she gave them both a sour look.
“Welcome to ‘Speedy’s’, where we give you fast, guaranteed service all day, every day…” The mare stated in a mechanical tone. “May I take your order?”
“I just need something light and with energy.” Sam responded. “So give me a large coffee and a side order of fried clovers.”
“What condiment, sir?”
“What do you have?”
“Ranch dressing, stable dressing, or stall dressing.”
“I’ll take stall.”
The mare looked to Carl next. “And for you, sir?”
Carl gave a sly smile. “I would like 100 apple pies.”
Sam gave him a shocked look, but the mare merely rang it up. After doing so, she slowly sighed. “One moment please.” She turned and began to walk in the back.
“I’m clocking you!” Carl called back. “I’ve got my eyes on the wall clock! You’re already six seconds in!”
As she went back, Sam continued to glare at him. “Carl, what the hell are you doing? Those things are two bits apiece without tax! We don’t have 200 bits to throw around!”
“Like I said, ‘sticking it to the mare’.” Carl answered calmly. “’Speedy’s’ prides itself on being able to make any order in three minutes flat. That’s their ‘Speedy Guarantee’. But I worked the fast food circuit when I was a foal. I know they never have any more than twelve of their pies ready to go at a time before they have to bake more. And popping those little glorified ‘hot pockets’ into the oven takes a good 20 minutes. They’ll never be able to get them out to us this late at night when everything is made fresh. So according to the ‘Speedy Guarantee’, they have to give us the food for free. I’ll have cost them a chunk of change and we’ll get a free meal out of it. Trust me, Sam. It’s no-”
Carl abruptly cut off as the mare returned and set before him and Sam a tray with a large coffee, a side order of fried clovers with stall sauce…and a small pyramid of one hundred apple pies in the little boxes arranged nice and neat. Both ponies stared blankly as the mare went over and pressed a few buttons on the register.
“Your total is 208 bits and 63 nibbles, plus tax. Thank you for coming to ‘Speedy’s’, home of the ‘Speedy Guarantee’.”
Sam’s blue color turned a shade of purple as his shock slowly gave way to anger and he turned to glare at Carl. Carl, on his part, swallowed and looked back to him rather uneasily.
“I, uh…left my wallet at work. Could you get this?”





A few minutes later, Sam’s eyes were narrowed as he walked forward, no longer really having the appetite to eat his fried clovers or drink his coffee, and struggling not to mutter. As for Carl, he seemed to be struggling under the sizable load of 100 apple pies as they crossed the street. Luckily, there didn’t seem to be a whole lot of traffic. After a bit, he looked to him.
“Er…Sam, you can have some of these if you want…I mean, you did pay for them…”
Sam said nothing and didn’t look.
“…In that case, could you carry a few? Not only are they awkward, but…they’re rather hot… Apparently they were able to keep almost all of them fresh and these little boxes don’t insulate worth-”
“You are paying me back every bit, Carl.” Sam finally interjected. 
He swallowed. “Yeah, I know that… But…what are we supposed to do with these things?”
“Eat them. You wanted them.”
“…Actually I didn’t. I can’t stand the taste of their pies, especially when all the pies I get are from Sweet Apple Acres. There’s no comparison. These things taste like pitas of sugar goo.”
Sam looked to him with a glare. “…You bought 100 of those damn things, and you never intended to eat even one of them?!”
“…Pretty much.”
The blue stallion groaned and rolled his eyes. “Fine…then throw them in the trash.” He answered as they reached the other side and made for the entrance of the warehouse.
“Dude, that’s 100 pies. That’s such a waste.”
Sam glared harder. “…But it wasn’t a waste to order 100 of them that you never planned to eat?!”
“Well…can’t we give them away or something?”
“It’s almost 3 in the morning, Carl! Who are we going to give them to? Damnit, now the truck is going to smell like processed…HEY!”
Abruptly, Sam dropped the issue as he turned the corner, as well as his coffee and clovers. Carl looked as well and saw the reason.
At least six different shi, or ‘foo dogs’, were currently all over the back of the delivery wagon. The doors were already open, and three of them were snarling and grunting as they handled the large crate in the back.
Immediately, Sam took off for the truck. Carl held a moment, nearly taking off as well, but then saw what Sam did. He frowned, before rushing after him as fast as possible with the pies in tow. “Sam, that was a waste and littering!”
The blue stallion ignored him as he neared the truck. “Hey! Hey you guys! Get off that!”
The six foo dogs looked up to Sam as he neared, stopping in their work. However, rather than run off, the nearest ones began to advance while the ones on the truck hopped off and fell in behind. None of them had very friendly looks. And as they did so, Sam ground to a halt. The one in the lead raised a paw and pointed at him.
“Listen, pony.” He said in a low, dangerous voice. “You just turn yourself around and walk right back out the way you came.”
Sam hesitated a moment at that, but remained bold a moment longer. “That’s our truck over there, man. And…” 	However, at this point he trailed off again…for the other foo dogs were rapidly coming up behind the first and beginning to form a semi-circle around him, causing his voice to catch in his throat and him to look around.
“Maybe you didn’t hear me the first time…” The one in the lead turned on. “I’ll make this so clear that you should be able to pick it up with those ears… Either you turn around right now and forget what you just saw…or instead of the police report reading you had guys breaking into your truck…it’s going to read they found a couple of earth pony corpses in the back. What’s it going to be?”
Carl, at this point, managed to pull up alongside Sam…but he was lifting the boxes so much that he didn’t look around them. Once there, he pulled them down again, and froze.
“Wow…these guys turned about in a hurry. I figured at least the wimpier ones would have run for it, but up close they all look like the thuggish type…”
“Shut up, Carl…” Sam answered as he swallowed again, looking at the large and intimidating lion-like creatures surrounding him. Finally, however, he gave a nervous smile as he removed one of the apple pies from Sam’s stack.
“Er…maybe we got off on the wrong foot, everyone…” He held the pie up, end aimed out at the one in front of him. “Here, why don’t we share an apple pie? We have more than enough. You! You look like you could use some! See?”
With that, he abruptly mashed his hooves together around the pie, causing it to explode and send a shower of piping hot apple filling out from the pie and the carton…and splashing right in the eyes of the foo dog before him.
Immediately, the thug’s face turned to agony as he bellowed in searing pain and staggered back, clawing for his eyes. The others snapped to him in shock, while Sam quickly grabbed another and blasted it again, this time sending the molten apple up the nose of another thug. He soon screamed. 
“Dear Celestia, it’s in my lungs! Graaa!”
Getting the idea, Carl quickly dropped the rest of the pies, seized one of his own, aimed it at the nearest foo dog, and then mashed on it...causing the filling to erupt out the opposite side and land in his own face. Soon, he went into agony too. “Holy sh’t! This crap really is served at 400 degrees Fahrenheit…and it feels like I just opened the Ark of the Covenant!”
Sam quickly grabbed another and doused the one about to attack Carl with it, causing him to scream and recoil as well. He then mashed on two more on the ground with his hooves to splash the fourth and fifth one. Only now did the last one try to flee, only for Sam to pick up one last pie and blast him in the rear end on the buttocks. Immediately, he went to the floor bellowing and struggled to scrape the point of contact on the concrete, trying to get it off before the damage was too bad. As for Sam, forgetting the rest, he seized the still-in-pain Carl and began to drag him past the foo dogs and to the truck. A few took swipes at him, but failed to make contact. On reaching the truck, he quickly opened the cab, practically threw Carl inside, and then got in as well.
“Strap in, dude! We got to get out of here!”
“Ugh…all I can feel is cinnamon…”
“Come on, man! They’re recovering!”
Groggily and sorely, Carl got himself strapped in as Sam did as well. By now, the first few thugs had cleared off enough apple filling to charge after them, but the two responded by quickly backpedaling and smashing the wagon into two of them, causing the others to stumble out of the way, and reared back to nearly smash the wagon into the wall. However, once clear, they both took off at full speed and rushed for the exit. The foo dogs tried to chase after them, but soon they reached the entrance, went out, and tore down the street.
Carl continued to run and cleared his eyes as they went on. Sam himself tried to look behind him, and scowled. “Damnit, this thing doesn’t have rear view mirrors because of the wagon! Carl, are they following us?”
The green stallion groaned and then rolled down the window, putting his head out. “…I can’t see that well, but I think they are…”
“Sh’t! Hang on!”
With Sam directing them, they turned a sharp corner, making the wagon wheels squeal, before galloping again down the new road. About two blocks later, they turned down another, and then a few blocks after that yet another.
“Damn, Sam!” Carl finally said when he was more recovered. “I can’t believe you did that back there!”
“I am not losing this job because a bunch of gang member dogs from Pacesia decided to rob this truck. Especially since we wouldn’t have stopped in the first place if you hadn’t decided to try and get your inane ‘revenge’ on Speedy’s...”
“Dude, will you drop it already? If I hadn’t gotten those apple pies we would have been screwed back there!”
“And we wouldn’t have needed those apple pies if you hadn’t made us park in that warehouse!” He sighed afterward. “Look…forget it. The important thing is if the crate made it alright. Why don’t you hop in the back and check it out?”
“Really? Can you pull me and all of this by yourself?”
“At the moment, I’m so spooked I could probably run with this package all the way to Terra Hoof.”
Carl exhaled, and then disengaged himself before climbing through the back access to the wagon and vanishing into the storage area. After a moment, Carl let out a whistle.
“Wow…there’s all sorts of crud back here. Packing tape, labels, markers, box cutters, two kinds of pallet jacks…”
“Carl, hurry it up! The package!”
There was a pause for a few moments. After short while, Carl came back and grimaced as he looked out the rear window.
“Eh…we have a problem.”
Sam stiffened. “…Please don’t tell me it fell out.”
“No, it didn’t and I shut the back door. But…you know that freshness seal?”
“Yeah?”
“It broke. It must have torn itself on the door handle.”
Sam immediately rolled his eyes and let out a groan. “I don’t believe this! We nearly get our asses kicked by a gang of foo dogs and somehow get away from them without a scratch and the wagon, and you’re telling me we’re still screwed because the damn freshness seal broke?! They told us specifically: complete and undamaged. If the freshness seal is broken, than it’s damaged! Especially if we tell them how it happened! We were on the clock and we shouldn’t have stopped for food!”
Carl sighed and looked back in the cab for a moment. He looked over things for a bit. Suddenly, he looked up. “…No problem, Sam. I got this…”
With that, he vanished back inside. Sam looked up and behind him. “Carl? Carl…what are you doing?”
The only response was some rummaging, moving around, and the sounds of packing tape being yanked and strapped. This continued for a short while, before Carl came back to the opening, climbed out of it, and then strapped himself in again before helping Sam pull the cart. Sam continued to stare at him from the moment he appeared until now.
“Problem solved.”
“…What did you do?”
“There was tons of packing tape back there. I looked around and found some that said ‘freeze on arrival’. Nice and opaque too. I covered the freshness seal tape with it. You’d never know the original tape was there.”
Sam stared blankly. “Carl…”
“Dude, relax. Ok, I was wrong about the warehouse, but I’m right about this. These are sprinkles, man. You can dump them in liquid nitrogen and they’d be fine. They get them, freeze them, and everything is perfectly alright. If they try to claim later that the stuff didn’t say to freeze it, screw ‘em! We’ll just claim that’s how we got it. Besides…it’s not like the container actually opened. It was just the seal that got ripped.”
Sam groaned. “…I don’t like this one bit, Carl. But I guess we don’t really have a choice. It’s that or get canned.”
Carl looked forward again. “Well, I’m ‘wide-awake’ now. Finding the place should be a snap…”
Sam merely grimaced. “Maybe if I hadn’t just taken us Celestia-knows where trying to ditch those guys…”





Thirty minutes later, neither pony was feeling pretty good. Although they managed to find an exit back to the highway that would take them back to the branch office, finding a bakery proved to be harder than ever. None of them had been able to find any of the roads they had memorized for their route, and the longer they looked, the darker the neighborhoods became and the less pleasant-looking. The time was nearly 4 AM by this point, and both ponies were getting not only tired again, but worried.
Sam sighed. “Dude…we’ve been at this for nearly two hours. I think we can rule out getting a nice score on the ‘fast’ part of our service…”
“All we have to do is find a road we were on, man. Then we’ll be fine.”
“We’ve been looking for one for a while now, Carl.”
“Just keep sweeping…we’ve got to run into one.”
Sam grumbled as he kept going. “I can’t even think up a plausible story as to why we’re so late in making the delivery…I have to keep changing what I planned…”
Carl, however, suddenly looked up. “There!”
Sam looked up as well. “There what?”
“Right there, dude! Steeple Chase! That’s the road that leads to Valley Run! Turn left!”
A moment later, the two ponies turned the delivery truck down the road and began to head down that way. However, this section of the road was darker than the others, and as they turned, they couldn’t immediately see anything.
Sam squinted a bit. “Carl, turn on the flashlight.”
Carl held the device up and pressed a button in response, making it act like a headlight…and, a moment later, they were forced to slow and stop the wagon. What looked like a line of old, beat-up wagons were stretched across the road.
Sam blinked. “…What gives?”
The two ponies soon got the answer, as no less than fifteen foo dogs began to climb over the barricade. Some had chains. Some have knives. Some had Pacesian ‘dragon fire projectors’ that they began to lock and load. Sam and Carl both paled. Carl, on his part, ducked his head out the open window to his side, and saw that another fifteen were coming up behind them, with wagons to block their way too. Two were even pulling Cerberuses out, all gnashing their teeth and snarling.
“Holysh’tholysh’tholysh’t…”
“Help me back up!”
“We can’t! They’re coming from behind!”
“The alley!”
Immediately, both Sam and Carl backpedaled, driving the wagon back. The foo dogs on both sides tried to close in as soon as possible, but it wasn’t quite fast enough. The truck backed up just enough to turn to the side, heading straight for a wall of garbage cans and old boxes blocking off a narrow alleyway. Immediately, they both pushed forward and smashed right through it, then narrowly shot through the tiny passage on the other side. It was a tight fit, and immediately the foo dogs ran for it with the fire projectors and began to hurl fireballs after them…but they managed to bust through the other end, land on a T-intersection on another road, and immediately took off as fast as they could.
Both Sam and Carl were panting hard and sweating as they charged away.
“How the Hell did they find us?!”
“Dude…I think those guys were the Vices!”
“The who?”
“The Vices! They’re the Pacesian mob! They came over to big cities like this one to run international cartels! Normally I thought they’d be in Las Pegasus…”
“Sam…are you telling me that we just crossed the mob?!”
“More or less, dude… I don’t see how else they could have gotten that many guys together just to give us an ass kicking… When they got to the crate, one of them must have spotted where this thing was going…”
Carl ran silently for a moment, staring forward. He didn’t say a word or register any emotion. Finally, however, he saw something up ahead.
Sam did too. A lit-up sign indicating a bakery loomed. However, he didn’t react much. They had seen it about ten minutes ago, thinking they had found their destination. Yet as it turned out, it was a different 24 hour bakery. The one they were looking for was “Turkish Delight”. 
However, Carl suddenly began to nudge the wagon over in that direction.
Sam snapped to him. “Carl, what are you-”
“Sam…pull this damn wagon over in front of that bakery right now.”
The blue stallion stared. “Carl…”
“Now, Sam!”
The green stallion pushed so hard that Sam had no choice but to sigh and push the wagon over along with him. After doing so, he immediately led the wagon around the back, and pulled it in toward the rear for the freight entrance. Considering the size of the vehicle and the time of night, they must have alerted someone. However, Carl didn’t seem to care. As he pulled the rear of the wagon toward the back, he simply stopped it, threw the brake, and then began to unfasten himself.
“Carl, what are you doing?” Sam asked as he proceeded.
Carl’s face remained stern and he didn’t answer. Soon, he was out and exiting the cab. Sam rolled his eyes and then began to get himself out as well. He soon exited too.
Once both were out, Carl readily moved to the back, while Sam followed behind. The green stallion went right up to the rear entrance personnel door of the bakery and gave a knock on it. The window opened a few moments later, letting a pony on the inside look out. After that, it closed again, and soon the door opened wide, and an elderly bakery manager stepped outside.
“…Can I help you? We don’t have any deliveries for tonight.”
“Forget that.” Carl retorted. “How are you doing on sprinkles?”
Sam, beginning to realize what was happening, reached Carl and stared at him. However, the manager merely shrugged.
“Well…not bad, although we’re getting a touch low…”
“How would you like a sh’tload of sprinkles for free? All you have to do is sign the name on the line on our slip.”
Sam now gaped. “Carl!”
The manager blinked. “Uh…that sounds a tad illegal, young fella…”
“Oh no, it’s perfectly cool. The ponies who expected the delivery didn’t want it and now we have nowhere to put it except in storage until it rots. It’s time fresh, you know. So just sign it and we all win. It’s even still got the freshness seal from the factory.”
“Carl, you can’t…”
The manager paused a bit more, but then gave an uncertain shrug. “Well…I suppose…”
“Great.” Carl responded. “Sam will give you the slip to sign and I’ll start unloading the sprinkles.” He turned to the blue stallion. “Sam…mind getting the slip?” He asked as he began to walk back toward the wagon.
As the manager scratched his head in confusion, Sam gave Carl an incredulous look. He quickly moved up to his side. “…Carl, do you have hoof-in-mouth disease or something? We can’t just dump this crate off on this guy!”
“We can…and we’re going to.” The green stallion retorted. “Having integrity on the job is one thing. Having dragon fireballs shot at you by a gang that’s out for your blood is something else. I want this job, Sam…but I am not about to get my ass incinerated so some bakery no one can find can get a fridge worth of sprinkles!” He reached the back of the wagon and began to open it up.
“But Carl…”
“Sam…” The green stallion cut off. “Right now, those Pacesian assholes, who happen to belong to a gang that’s notorious for making schmucks like us ‘disappear’ when we’re in the wrong place at the wrong time, only know that we’re driving a Solar Cycle wagon and what we look like. They don’t know our names or addresses and I mean to keep it that way. I’m wanting to lose this damn crate, get back on the highway, and get my ass back to work and change into something that doesn’t scream ‘we’re the guys who gave you second-degree pie burns’. The longer we stay out here, the more they’re going to want us and find out about us. I want to get lost before they have a chance to figure out who we are.” He yanked out the ramp of the back of the truck. “If you want to get us both killed and end up as a couple of pony skeletons mounted in a concrete base as the bottom of the river, then keep raising a stink. If you want to live through the night…then make him sign the damn slip!”
Sam hesitated a bit more. He thought about all of what Carl said. And, to be honest, he was terrified at the moment. Getting around some thugs was one thing. But if they were actual Vices…then he was in way over his head. With that in mind, he finally exhaled and caved in. Letting out a grumble, he began to go for the front of the truck to get out the slips.
“Let’s shake a hoof while we’re at it…” Carl muttered. “We didn’t get that far from those foo dogs at that roadblock…”



To Be Continued...]