//------------------------------// // The Pony Who Wishes He Could Timeskip Past The Boring Parts. // Story: The Temporal Manipulations of a Victorious Timekeeper // by Rodinga //------------------------------// I woke to the sound of somepony knocking on the front door. A repeating drum beat of four thumps in a precise beat without variation. Nope, not today, I thought as I rolled over to rest my face against the pillow and hide my eyes from the light coming through the window above the bed. Thump-thump-thump-thump, the knocking was patient and unyielding. Like water that knows regardless of how many times it’s drunk, it’ll reach the sea eventually. Then I set about cursing myself for thinking about poetic metaphors that’d just wake me up faster. Less patient was my pillow. It rudely rolled out from under me and let my head fall face first onto the hard mattress while it walked out the door. I repeated the motion one more time as an experiment. I couldn’t remember my mattress being this hard, and so a scientific deduction would suggest that it wasn’t my mattress. I decided to take a risk and opened an eye. The scientific method was validated when I saw that it wasn’t my mattress, it was the floor. The floors were timber, and if I moved just a bit I could see the room downstairs. Shadows disappeared as a new light was cast upon the downstairs floor. A couple of voices said something intelligible and the light disappeared. A different rhythm sounded through the floor and quickly got louder. Then a hoof pressed against my back a few times. “Time Turner, wake up.” “No. Sleeping,” I groaned. I could almost hear the pleasant smile. “If you were asleep you wouldn’t be able say you were asleep.” I considered that for a moment. Logically, the voice was right, I wasn’t asleep. Worse, the act of considering this had made me even less asleep. This in mind I said, “Damn.” There was a soft giggle. Then I was poked again. “You have to come downstairs. That was the Mayor at the front door, and she wants to speak to you about a favour you owe her for a restaurant.” That got both eyes open. “That was fast.” I slowly brought myself to my hooves and disentangled myself from the white sheet still attached to the bed it came from. As soon as I was up I lurched toward the doorway and out into the hall. The haze of sleep kept my mind fogged as I went for the stairs. I hadn’t yet started to get a hold on where I was; my world consisted of the path in front of me and a headache. Getting down the stairs in my current state took all my attention as I tried to place what felt like eight hooves. I had to get to the front door where my boss was probably waiting with an air of the utmost patience. I took my eyes off the stairs for a second to check the front door. Closed, alright now— “Good afternoon, Time Turner,” said familiar voice to my left. “What?” My head shot around to look at the source to find the mayor waiting in a sitting area. My mind tried to deal with this sudden unexpected change and lost track of where I was placing my hooves. A hoof stepped halfway out into the air and I tumbled forward into a weird twisting pirouette that included a near flip as I tried to avoid falling down the last few steps. The acrobatics would have been nearly impossible if hadn’t been half asleep, in the same weird way that a pony can do amazing things if they’re drunk and/or sleepwalking. If you think too hard, the magic dies, and you break a leg. I finally stopped myself at the bottom of the stairs and gratefully went back to standing on all four hooves as I received polite applause. I took a moment to get my bearings properly this time. I was in Carrot Top’s farmhouse, her all purpose downstairs room specifically. Then I remembered why I’d woken up on Carrot Top’s bedroom floor – It was a sobering thought. “Are you okay?” I turned my head to see the owner of the voice. Carrot Top had come down the stairs after me. She looked rather cheery, despite the mess her mane and tail were in. Obviously she was a morning pony. I checked to see if I was still in one piece and nodded. “I’m okay.” The mayor waved at us from over in the lounge area, “Good afternoon.” Oh, yeah, the mayor... wait. “Afternoon? It couldn’t be past ten.” I looked over at the clock and saw that it was two thirty-seven in the afternoon. “I can’t have been asleep that long…” “Oh we weren’t,” Carrot said ominously. Say what you will about earth pony stamina. The mayor coughed politely. “I hate to interrupt, but I’ve spent the better part of my afternoon searching for you, Turner.” Catching the slight rebuke in her tone I inclined my head formally. “My apologies, mayor. This was a spur of the moment thing, I didn’t mean to inconvenience you.” The mayor warmed up to me. “Quite alright, Turner. This has been a convenient excuse to get out from behind my desk.” I smiled. A good smile and an honest bit of niceness can make your troubles float away. “However, I do have a reason for coming to find you.” My smile disappeared. Carrot Top quietly excused herself to make us some coffee and made her escape. “This morning,” the mayor began. “Banana Fluff asked me for permission to build an open air restaurant in town, and said that you’d recommend her.” “I do,” I confirmed. “She’s a capable chef and given some room she should do fine.” And now the tricky part. “I don’t suppose you could make sure it happens? Pokey just let her go.” The mayor’s eyes narrowed a touch. “Why?” “She improvises.” “I noticed,” the mayor said flatly. “She was improvising a wig earlier.” I blinked a couple of times as the memory hit, “Oh, that.” I shrugged. “Don’t worry about it: she’s young, she’s talented, and I’m happy to vouch for her.” “Hmm.” The mayor adjusted the cravat on her collar. “In that case… There’s a small plot next to the park which would suit an open air restaurant nicely.” “Thank you,” I said with a nod. Let nopony ever say that Time Turner doesn’t keep his promises. The mayor inclined her head in return. Before saying, “There are a few things that will need to be done before she can start building.” I nodded. “So I’ll just add them to your list of things to do. I’m sure you wouldn’t mind doing that and a few other things for the town.” I braced for it and said, “I wouldn’t…” “Good, you’ve had a few days to yourself and there are quite a few things I’d like you to attend to.” The mayor pulled a little folded note from a clip in her tail. She passed it to me and I put it on the table to open it. It wasn’t a short list. The mayor came over to look over my shoulder as I read. “I hope you will get this all done. I don’t want any complaints or ‘Mysterious Trips to Manehattan’ this time, hmm?” I smiled sheepishly. I had been a little lax lately, not that this is supposed to be part of my job, but I suppose it was kind of expected of me. I looked down the list. It was mostly the little things that most ponies tried to forget about. Among them were bits of paperwork, surveying property borders between farms – which tend to shift mysteriously – and the final item on the list was optimistically titled, ‘guest liaison’. “Another guest?” my voice was bitter. “Yes, a minotaur doing a seminar. He’s had good reviews from other towns.” “Why does this remind me about that fashion show last year?” I scowled. “You didn’t have to deal with Hoity Toity. He didn’t apologize for sitting on my nose; even after I helped Spike drag his flank back to Carousel Boutique for Rarity’s do over.” “Which is why I want you dealing with this,” the mayor explained and followed up with some well-targeted ego stroking. “Minotaurs are imposing, and you’re less likely to be afraid of him than our other public servants.” It was a blatant attempt to butter me up, and it worked. “Alright, I’ll deal with it.” I resigned myself to it with a shrug and asked, “What’s his name?” “Iron Will, or at least that’s the name he gave.” The mayor stepped back. “I need to get back to town hall. Good afternoon, Time Turner.” She repeated the same to Carrot Top as she passed, and went out the door. I sat down at the table and Carrot Top came over with the coffee pot again. She set it down and poured both of us cups before sitting down as well. I said thanks as she passed me the caffeinated goodness. “So,” I tried to begin. “Last night.” “It was fun,” Carrot replied. I grinned. “Yes it was.” Carrot returned the smile, I smiled more and she did the same. It felt like we grinning about some conspiracy. There was a shared smugness about what we did, like a couple of dogs pretending that the biscuit barrel on the floor had always been empty. “It’s been years since I did that,” Carrot admitted. “I’m not really sure what came over me, I kept thinking about it, and we were getting on so well that I just kinda felt… frisky.” She hung her head and stared into her coffee cup. “I probably shouldn’t have done that.” “I didn’t refuse, and we both enjoyed it.” I shrugged. “The alcohol is probably to blame more than anything else.” “So, where do we go from here?” Carrot Top looked up from her cup. “Did we get into that too fast? Or should we pretend it didn’t happen?” I drank from my coffee cup while I thought. Caffeine is a must before decisions are made. “Probably too fast. We can take a few steps back, but we don’t need to pretend last night didn’t happen.” I nodded to myself. “Take some time, think about it, and let saner heads prevail. For the time being I think we can say we’re definitely friends from here on.” Cloud Kicker would probably be fast to suggest ‘friends with benefits’ and would follow that up with a threesome offer within thirty seconds, guaranteed, or your money back. “That sounds smart,” Carrot agreed with a nod. “Friends?” She held a hoof up in the air over the table. “Friends.” I brought a hoof up and we bumped. “So, do you think ponies will start to talk about us?” she asked. “I didn’t see any of the flower trio last night.” “The mayor?” “She won’t talk about it.” “Thunderlane or Banana?” “Not likely,” I said. “Merry?” “Same.” “Can’t be sure, but it might not be out on the rumour mill yet.” Carrot Top smiled at my naivety. “It will be. They’re telepathic.” “Then we’ll just have to hope for the best then.” I drank from my cup. “And hope somepony else will do something to get their attention.” Thinking about it, there was a relationship between Ditzy and Cloud that my future self had hinted about. That would be guaranteed gossip for a week. “Actually, bet on that,” I said. “Something’s bound to happen.” “Alright then,” Carrot said before she took a long drink from her coffee cup, lifting it up above her head as it emptied. “So how long do we give ourselves?” I checked the list the mayor gave me and whistled. “It’s going to be a week before I’ve caught up with a lot of this. Probably more if this guest turns out to be troublesome.” Carrot furrowed her eyebrows in thought. “I think I heard something about a monster?” “Minotaur, and yeah, that is a surprise.” I leant back in my chair and brought a hoof to my chin. “They’re almost never seen in Equestria. The last time I saw one was in Freeport, and that place isn’t exactly under the Princess’s influence.” “Minotaurs don’t like us?” Carrot asked. “I don’t think there’s any particular reason, at least as far as I’ve been told. They’re really tall, so if they come to Equestria they’d be forever afraid of stepping on us.” I shrugged. “Equestria’s just that much removed from their home.” I checked the description on the note again. “He’s running some form of seminar. I’d imagine he’s quite successful. Most ponies would go purely for the once in a decade opportunity to see a minotaur.” “I’d like to go,” Carrot Top said quietly. “But I probably can’t spare the time now.” She tapped the table idly. “I have harvesting to catch up on.” I winced. “Alright then.” I drank the rest of my coffee. “We’ll catch up sometime after the seminar and see about setting up a date or something, I suppose.” “Sounds good.” The pair of us stood up and she led the way to her front door. “Thank you again for coming over yesterday,” she said as she opened the door. “It was a real pleasure getting to know you, in more ways than one.” “I’ll see you next week then.” We shared a nod and I walked out. The door shut behind me and I made my way down the path toward the road. Walking is a great time to think, your blood starts pumping, it’s quiet, and for the most part you’re alone. Since I’d hadn’t had time to think properly for the last day or so, I spent the walk home thinking. Most of my thoughts centred on Carrot Top, or as I’d been calling her: Goldie. That alone was interesting, why had I done that? She wasn’t entirely fond of Carrot Top as a name, and Golden Harvest was a mouthful. Good reasons, though it implied a familiarity. Then there was the potential relationship thing. My thoughts had plenty to shout about on this. Starting with my cynicism saying, “Goldie’s probably just chasing me because I showed interest. She’s a family oriented and social pony who been tied to a post and left behind. It’s sad.” Then optimism kicked in, “Though she’s done well managing the farm on her own. She’s talented, and not just in making cake. Can’t forget that cake. If we actually start dating there’ll be more of it.” I absently turned a corner. “Though there is the whole ‘through the stomach’ thing. Am I being lured in here? Hay, can I even trust myself if drinking a little alcohol is enough to get me in her bed?” I frowned. “I usually plan for that eventuality and prepare myself, but she just flashed me with that look and I went right with it.” I bobbed my head in a sort of internal shrug. “Though what self-respecting stallion would pass that up? It’s not like I’ve turned down Cloud Kicker before, but then again I always knew the score with her; Goldie, not so much.” I returned a few waves and greetings as ponies passed me. “How far would this go? If she’s just looking for somepony, anypony, then we’d end up stuck in a relationship because it’s there, like Caramel and…” My eyebrows furrowed over the mental blank. “Colgate, that’s the one. Do I want to be like Caramel, pulled along like I have a rope around my neck, or tied down?” A shudder ran down my spine. “Tied down… I’d hate that, what would happen if I wanted to go…” I stopped in the street as a thought hit me like the Friendship Express. “That bastard…” My future-self had already mentioned this. He’d warned that I’d have something out of town to do soon and also said, ‘This time, you’ll want to have somepony with you.’ And that I’d be ‘rather grateful for the help when the time comes.’ I’d had traveling companions before, but with what was happening now. “Was I hinting at myself that I’d be in a relationship soon and that I’d ‘want’ to have someone with me? Which would mean that it’s already happened and…” I shook my head. “Stop, don’t go there. There’s no such thing as destiny, I’m vague for a reason, and I can’t assume I know the future.” The unicorns have outlawed time travel magic for a reason. Reading too much into a glimpse of the future can be maddening. That was probably why the hints I’d send back from the future would have to be vague, so I wouldn’t read too much into them and they’d only make sense at the right moment. All I knew was that: a fridge will be important at some point, I’d be helped by friends in an adventure soon, and that Ditzy and Cloud are probably dating. I love time travel. It makes life interesting, doesn’t it? “Are you okay, Turner?” “Huh?” I muttered as reality snapped back to find Caramel standing in front of me. “You were staring off into the distance,” he said with a look of concern plastered across his face. “Something up?” “Just thinking.” My eyes flicked back to Caramel. “Actually there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you. Are you particularly busy, in terms of work?” Caramel shrugged. “Nopony’s too desperate for help right now, but in a few weeks there’ll be a few calls for harvesters. Why’d ya ask?” “I was out to see Carrot Top yesterday. You remember how everypony at the last meeting said I should go see her?” “Yeah.” “Well, she’s actually looking for somepony to do some farm work for her,” I said. “Really?” Caramel blinked. “I didn’t think she’d want help.” “Well, she’s been managing on her own, but she’s having trouble with sales. Namely she can’t run her stall and harvest at the same time.” Caramel nodded. “I get ya.” “Think you could go say hello at some point? I’ve told her to expect you.” “Yeah, no problem,” Caramel said. “Could use the extra work anyway. Thanks for the tip.” “Anytime,” I said and we bumped hooves before splitting up. I was on Saddle Street, just a few doors down from my house, and over the short distance I came to a temporary conclusion on the Carrot angle: “Run with it, and we’ll see how it goes.”   The position of Timekeeper draws a reasonable wage for a job that’s supposed to be a clockwatching position. The strangest thing about bureaucrats is that despite being so monolithic, they absolutely detest wasted money with an almost fanatic fervour. Accordingly, the mayor would pass any ‘unusual’ or ‘excess’ tasks that she didn’t assign to anypony else, to me. It was mostly near-pointless busy work, but while it was easy, it was also universally hated by everypony but the most masochistic bureaucrats. Ponyville doesn’t have too many of those: they typically get snapped up and promoted to Canterlot or Manehattan. So as time passes the work gets piled into a corner until the mayor decides to saddle some poor sucker with it. I was the sucker. After a few days of stamping forms I was starting to go stir crazy. I dreamed up elaborate plans, schemes, and a few new designs for clocks to try in my workshop at home. The Carrot Top question bounced around a few times without result. Occasionally the sound of laughter and birdsong had me staring wistfully at the window while memories of my travels filled my mind. Then I realized not getting my work done was going to prolong this. To keep myself sane, I decided I could just do the work outside. A few pencils, erasers, and a tablet of wood for a table, made a portable office. The road cones, pipe, and a suspiciously ramp like plank I’d pulled out of storage were also essential for my mental wellbeing. I set myself up on a patch of grass by Saddle Street and curled around the tablet to get some work done. I was halfway through the annual cost estimates on the town’s hot water supply when a shadow fell over my work. “Hey, bud.” I looked up to see Thunderlane hovering above me. It was nice to see a friendly face. His coat had mostly grown back, but there were a few pale areas where it was still uneven. I dropped my pencil and said, “Hello, Lane, how’s the weather going?” “Easy day so far.” He touched down beside me and looked down over my work. “We’ve just been containing clouds outta the Everfree. It’s all clear skies today.” He looked over at the extra stuff I’d left on the road nearby. “What’s with that gear?” “Just watching it for some orange pony, nothing major,” I replied. “Uh, huh,” Lane said slowly, before turning his attention to my paperwork. “What’s this for?” he asked, tapping the form. “The hot water log and associated costs.” I shook my head. “You know, it’s up six percent this quarter because somepony in town must have spent seven hours in a shower or something. I have to check the recorded readings from every water meter in town just to figure out who to pass the additional cost onto.” “Not the spa, is it?” Lane suggested. “They have their own water heater.” “Rarity?” “Checked that,” I said with a bored shrug. “The Boutique actually uses less hot water than most of the town. I’m not sure Rarity even uses her bathtub.” “Dunno then, bud,” Lane said with a shrug. “I’m sure you’ll find it eventually though.” “Eventually being the operative word there,” I groaned as a scrunched up another page of note paper and threw it on a growing pile. “Well I’d better leave you to it.” Lane opened his wings. A familiar buzzing sound met my ears. “Hold on, Lane.”  I held up my hoof to stop him and said, “You might want to see this.” I nodded toward the pile of equipment left standing on the road in front of us. This particular prank had come to me while doing a particularly dull form. I caught sight of an orange blur approaching before it disappeared behind a building. Go on. You know you want to. There was a slight change in the pitch of the buzz. I smiled and my hooves were together in anticipation. The orange blur, now easily identifiable as a little pegasus filly on a scooter, went right for the pile of stuff on the road in front of us. A long plank sat on a large pipe at an inviting angle, positioned well enough to be an awesome launch point for an aerial trick. The scooter hit the plank and used it as a ramp to go up. Just as the scooter passed the halfway point above the large section of pipe, it tipped. The scooter’s weight shifting the delicate balance of the plank toward the other side. The scooter, and its driver, followed the plank down and into a rather unfortunately placed mud puddle. The splash caused several passing ponies to pause and look at the accident. The filly picked herself up easily enough – her pride was the only thing injured. If she’d actually hurt herself I’d have had to turn time back and stopped her before she hit it. Had to be sure though. “You okay, kid?” I called out. The filly looked over, her eyes the only colour in the complete brown coverage of mud. Her eyes narrowed as they met mine. “I’m fine,” she grumbled back before getting on her scooter and driving away at a safer speed. “Turner, why are you grinning like that?” Thunderlane asked. “No reason,” I said innocently. The biggest task of the week had me standing on the train station platform at the crack of dawn a few days later, while waiting for the arrival of this week’s guest. The mayor had, rather emphatically, told me that the town stood to make a fair bit of money out of this business and that she had a thousand and one things to spend it on. The train itself arrived four minutes and thirty-eight seconds late. The delay probably caused by the extra pair of carriages on the end of the train. They were sleek, smooth, and painted black. Once the train stopped, a door on the back of the rear car opened out into a ramp that led down to the ground below the platform. A large cloaked figure strode down the ramp and stood between the rails on the ground. There was a harsh sound of indrawn breath before it reached up and pulled down the hood from over its large horns. “Iron Will smells… pansies.” “They’re planted all over the place,” I said off hoof as I walked up to the edge of the platform. Despite the advantage of the platform, my eyes were only level with his shoulders. The figure spun around, cape falling from his shoulders as he struck a dramatic pose, while looking off into the middle distance. “Iron Will’s the name, training ponies is my game.” I looked over my shoulder to check the wall he was directing his stance at – it was blank. “Right…” I mumbled to myself before flicking back around. “Welcome to Ponyville, my name is Time Turner and I’m the mayor’s representative to you and your…” I caught a glimpse of a small herd of goats in the carriage “… entourage.” I held out a hoof. “I am at your service.” The minotaur reached out to hold my entire leg with a massive hand and shook it. “Iron Will appreciates the offer of your assistance. But Iron Will requires only a suitable venue to demonstrate his patented and proven assertiveness techniques.” The minotaur struck another pose to emphasise the emphasis in his speech. Luna save me… “As you wish,” I said with a nod and pulled a list from my bag. “This is a list of Ponyville’s available venues,” I said past the list. “The mayor assures you that we can accommodate you elsewhere as well, given enough notice.” The minotaur gingerly took the list from my mouth and brought it up to his eyes. The disparity in size was incredible; he could fit the entire notepad into the palm of his hand. His time in Equestria must make him feel like a giant in a land of midgets. I followed his beady eyes as they scanned the list, and came to a halt. “How tall are the hedges in the maze?” My eyebrows bunched together. The maze had only been included on the list as an afterthought. “Six, maybe eight times a pony’s height,” I said with a slight shrug. The minotaur snorted. “Iron Will has made his decision. We use the maze.” He turned to look at his goats and they set to work detaching the carriages from the train. “Mazes remind Iron Will of home, and help put him in the zone.” He turned back to me. “Show us the way.”   Nopony is quite sure whose idea it was to grow Ponyville’s hedge maze. There’s no record of a request, or zoning approval. It may even precede the establishment of Ponyville as a proper town. All we know is that somepony decided to grow a hedge maze on the border of White Tail Wood and that they did a reasonable job of it. When we arrived, Iron Will went into the maze with an armful of small flags and marked a path to the centre without a single missed turn. I would have needed a map to find it. Once in the centre the minotaur took a moment to admire the scenery while his goats brought in their equipment. I caught one goat eyeing my bag and I stared him down until he looked away. “Iron Will is satisfied.” The minotaur turned around and nodded to his merry band of tie wearing goats who immediately got to work. “Good,” I said as I reached into my bag again for a small wad of paper. “If you would like to go over the contract then?” “Yes, of course.” Iron Will walked over casually and stood passively while I gave the contact a flip through. “The terms are as follows: Ponyville, which I am representing, as part of central Equestria under Canterlot, yada yada, will provide venue and permits free of charge while levying a twenty-five percent tax on the event’s income—“ “On profit,” Iron Will growled. He leaned forward over me. “On income.” I held my position. “The mayor is strict on this provision, though the rate is negotiable.” “Five percent tax,” he rumbled. “Twenty percent.” “Ten percent.” He flexed his arms. I stepped forward. “Seventeen percent!” Iron Will snatched me up and held me at eye height. “Fifteen percent!” I flattened my face against his. “Fifteen percent and services are extra!” “Done!” He yelled back. I pulled my head back and smiled. “Excellent. If you wouldn’t mind dropping me.” The minotaur grunted and let go of me. I landed with a slight bounce and went back to the contract to make a show of amending it. Conveniently, I didn’t have to amend anything, fifteen percent plus services is the rate the mayor wanted. An earth pony always asks for more than they intend to sell for – it’s written somewhere in the earth pony way – and sometimes rich ponies with no sense of value will pay the full amount. I flipped through the rest of the contract and returned to a dull monotone. “The rest of the contract is the usual acceptance of liability for your customers, and a provision for the weather team so they can delay any major weather events that conflict with your seminar. Objections?” “None,” he answered calmly. I presented the final page. “Sign here.” Iron Will leaned forward, took the pencil and signed very daintily on the line. His handwriting was a surprisingly neat cursive with emphasised loops. I took the contract back and added my own as witness next to where the mayor had pre-signed it earlier. “Done,” I said as I put it away. “Anything else?” “Iron Will requires distribution of his ‘flex up™’ pamphlets,” he said with an arm flex. “It will be done by tomorrow morning so the seminar can run at noon.” I nodded. That was easily managed by getting the postal ponies to run a special delivery tonight, and that would count as an additional service too. “A few hundred pamphlets? We can do that. When will they be ready?” A large mail sack was dropped beside Iron Will. A goat covered in ink stains bleated something and returned to the carriage. “Iron Will’s staff will distribute the pamphlets.” He folded his massive arms and smiled. “Good profit requires minimized expense.” Like on delivery, I thought. My eyes flicked between the various goats as they went about setting up a stage, mowing the lawns, trimming the hedges, and setting up pyrotechnics. “What are you paying these guys?” I asked in disbelief. The minotaur looked on proudly. “Iron Will is finding them nannies for their kids.”   At noon the following day, I joined a small herd of ponies heading down to the hedge maze. The pamphlets advertising Iron Will’s seminar – with a popup picture – had all mysteriously appeared in everypony’s mailboxes that morning. It promised that Iron Will’s seminar would ‘turn doormats into dynamos’, teach you how to ‘take advantage of assertiveness’, and other creative pairings of long words starting with the same letter. Rather than coming for the training, most of the chatter from the other ponies suggested they were mostly coming out of sheer curiosity. Seeing the goats around town had been strange enough, but a minotaur was still the stuff of myth. The maze had been tended to with some skill, the hedges were trimmed and flags had been put up. Inside, a sign asked ponies to write down their names and addresses with a smaller sign addressing the fifty bit entry fee – to be collected later. I looked around at the crowd. A quick guestimate put the attendance at a hundred and fifty or so. Multiply by fifty and you have something like seven and a half thousand bits, which means around eleven hundred and so bits for the town at the fifteen percent tax rate. That kind of money could get a lot of library books, school equipment, some extra weather, or something else a committee might come up with. But fifty bits is a lot for a pony to drop all at once, and so the town would probably get less than that. Case in point: Fluttershy was here. As an Animal Caretaker she’s on the same pay grade as a Timekeeper – i.e. not much. All my luxuries are paid for by clock sales and my ‘savings’. Fluttershy doesn’t sell clocks, so she probably wouldn’t have the money to pay for this. Distracted by the complex mathematics behind estimating returns, I’d completely missed Iron Will’s entrance. The stomping and cheering of the audience snapped me back to reality just before the cheers turned to polite laughter. “That’s no joke friends,” Iron Will said amicably. “Iron Will is so confident that you will be one-hundred percent satisfied, with Iron Will’s assertiveness techniques, that if you are not one-hundred percent satisfied: You. Pay. Nothing!” each word emphasised with a dramatic pose. Then he got in some poor foal’s face while flexing his muscles, saying, “But I pity the fool who doubts Iron Will’s methods.” The audience shrank back as said fool started to sweat bullets. “You don’t doubt me do you?” The herd shook their heads. Then the minotaur flipped out of intimidating and into reasonable. “That’s the first lesson: ‘Don’t be shy, look em in the eye’.” Then the audience laughed away their worries, the intimidation only a memory. I had to appreciate the subtle brilliance in all this. Saying you weren’t satisfied would mean overcoming the very intimidating and imposing Iron Will in debt collection mode. Doing so would require somepony to be assertive, which Iron Will could claim as proof that you benefited from his workshop, and therefore Iron Will should be paid. Most ponies would remember this moment, and wouldn’t bother refusing. But the promise meant that they’d all stay for the seminar and assume they could wiggle out of it later if they wanted to – which they wouldn’t. Iron Will followed up with a quick demonstration with a carefully selected test subject: Fluttershy, somepony meek and helpless who could be reliably herded. The demonstration forced Fluttershy into a position where she’d have to assert herself to escape. It was similar to ‘good cop, bad cop’ scenario, with Iron Will playing both. He shouted to pressure her forward, and spoke kindly to give her an escape path – be assertive – which Fluttershy promptly took. The audience cheered, and just like that, Iron Will had full credibility. The next part of the seminar broke the watching audience up into several groups. Tables with signs like ‘Mega Marketing’ and ‘Assertive Bartering’ were quickly put out with printed reference sheets grouped by the table’s subject. As ponies gathered to their subjects of choice, Iron Will went around demonstrating his techniques and catchphrases. “Customers won’t just come to you, you have to make them want to!” was used at marketing along with, “Your sign is loud, and you are proud!” Each phrase got nods as everypony caught on. At the bartering table Iron Will interrupted them with, “Don’t just buy, they have to try!” before grouping the marketing and bartering tables together for a practice session while yelling, “If you want to learn it, you have to earn it!” I didn’t join any of the tables myself, but I wandered around collecting sheets from all of them. They were comic strips where goats – speaking equestrian – were guided by miniature minotaurs sitting on their backs. A lot of the advice was good, the bartering issue had a three page strip where readers were introduced to easy-to-learn methods for buying and how to counter the seller’s own techniques. Practical usage aside, there was also the “Dynamic Dating” table. More than a few mares had gathered around it and were gossiping, comparing notes and getting advice. Among the small conspiracy of fillies was Colgate – Caramel’s wannabe marefriend – who was closely consulting one of Iron Will’s guides. Approaching that table would be like flying down ghastly gorge with only one wing: screwy, with a chance of getting snatched up by a vicious predator. Okay, that was a weird train of thought. I looked around and checked off tables from my mental list. Broadly, I was satisfied. Iron Will was running a good show, he wasn’t selling snake oil or a cider making machine, and everything was under control. For once there wasn’t a clock in sight, so I guessed the time from the sun’s position. It was still overhead, so I figured it wasn’t too late to get lunch, and I kinda owed it to somepony as well.   I knocked on the door of the Post Office’s staff entrance. The door shuddered in its frame and the sound echoed uncomfortably in the walls – earning a wince from me. The Post Office is a prime example of bureaucratic savings and cost cutting; the building was originally Ponyville’s first town hall and is one of the oldest buildings in town. When the new town hall was built, the Postal Service was given the keys to the old and it hasn’t changed much since. After a second round of knocking the staff door was opened by my delightful, wall-eyed neighbour. “Hello, Ditzy.” “Time Turner.” Then Ditzy’s face changed to a – relatively – serious expression as she quickly looked around with a hard to follow movement of her opposing eyes. She leaned forward and whispered, “I’ve got another of those secret letters of yours.” Another message from Siren. Where possible she’d only send messages by courier and Ditzy, by dint of her regular run to Canterlot and back, usually brought them to me. In fact, it’s how we got to know each other. Knowing Siren, that may have been intentional. “I’ll get that later,” I said. “I actually came around to ask you out to lunch.” Ditzy’s eyebrows furrowed. “Uhhh.” I supposed there was a conflict of interest from her side of the story. “Not trying to intrude on you and Cloud, mind,” I explained. “I just had some free time and figured that I still owed you lunch for bailing out on you last time.” Ditzy nodded. “Oh that’s—Wait, how did you know about me and Cloud?” I smiled a moment while I quickly pulled together an excuse. “You live across the street from me, Ditzy. It wasn’t going to stay hidden for long.” “Ah... Anyway, this is nice of you, but my break’s about to finish.” She pointed over her shoulder toward the mail bags on the floor behind her. The decision took only a moment. “No problem, wait here.” I slipped past Ditzy and went up a hallway to get to the old mayor’s office where the postmaster would be. I opened the door and stick my head in. “Hey, Tool Time.” The pony behind the desk looked up with a grunt. “I need to borrow Ditzy for an hour or two.” Tool scowled at me. “What do ya need Derpy for?” “I need a postal pony for a few deliveries on behalf of our minotaur guest,” I lied. “I’m commandeering her.” “Wait, ya can’t just—” “Already have,” I interrupted. “Take it up with the mayor.” I shut the door and walked away before he could say otherwise. Never give a bureaucrat a chance to argue, otherwise you’ll never escape and you’ll get sucked into the event horizon of red tape. Frankly I’d had enough bureaucracy for a long while. Ditzy caught up to me as again as she was coming down the hall after me. “Got you a couple of hours of paid leave, come on.” She turned and snatched up her bags as we went back outside. We didn’t go far, the nearest café was just on the edge of the town square and we took an empty table outside. Ditzy dropped her bag on the ground and rummaged around in it for a moment. She came back up a moment later and placed the letter on the table in front of me. Like the last one, it didn’t have a postage mark declaring its origin, and the only marking was the name ‘Time Turner’ written in delicate horn-writing. “I’ll open it later.” “No, you should open it now,” Ditzy objected. “Get it out the way, and who knows, you might need to send a response.” “Okay then.” I flipped it over and broke the blank wax seal on the other side. To Time Turner, From Siren. Turner, thank you again for your assistance in Manehattan. I know it was very short notice, but as you said before, now I owe you one. Right now, I’m writing to you because I have a bad feeling. I am still new enough at this that I don’t know if I’m being paranoid or not, but there have been unusual things happening across Equestria. A couple of disappearances in Manehattan – thankfully not related to our last problem, I think – some disruptions with the buffalo near Appleloosa and a series of thefts in Los Pegasus. However those events are not what are causing me concern. They’re everywhere. But there are a few places that have been left entirely untouched – a statistical anomaly according to my analysts. Specifically, Canterlot has been quiet, and so have a few towns. Ponyville itself hasn’t come up on my radar yet, so I can’t be sure if it’s luck, a deliberate calm before a storm, or something has already happened and gone entirely unnoticed. So I’m advising you to keep your eyes and ears open. If you see some unusual or even trivial events that make you suspicious, send me a message soonest. Siren  “Hmm,” I said as I reread the letter. “Something wrong?” Ditzy asked. Her eyes did a dance as each took turns reading my face. “Nothing actually, that’s the problem.” The letter was folded up and put into my bag. Anything sent my way isn’t really top secret, so extreme measures weren’t needed. “That’s something for later.” I signalled the waiter and ordered a sandwich platter and a pitcher of orange juice. “So, Ditzy, how are things?” It was a routine enough question and soon Ditzy was talking about the mundane things in her life. It sounds boring, but I enjoy hearing about the little things like Sparkler’s grades and fire extinguishing skills. Then there were Dinky’s various attempts to take over the world via her weapons-grade cuteness. It’s my firm belief that Dinky, despite seeming innocent, knows very well how cute she is and uses it to her advantage at every opportunity. Or that could just be me ignoring my own advice and seeing malice instead of childishness. “…Oh, and thanks again for fixing my clock. It hasn’t fallen off the wall again since.” “It was an easy fix, I just had to bolt it to the wall,” I said. “By happy coincidence, your house is becoming even more earthquake proof.” “My bad.” “You keep saying that,” I muttered. “Are you even sure it’s your fault? You don’t have any cursed artefacts at home or anything?” “I’m just Derpy,” Ditzy said with a shrug. “I accept that now. It’s just how things are, I can’t let it hold me back.” Ditzy lifted her glass of orange juice and drank. “Don’t expect me to accept it.” “You never give up do you?” “Never,” I said and finished the last of my juice. Give me a chance and I’d probably break time itself just to save somepony. The friendly discussion resumed. This time the topic drifted past Ditzy’s old college days, then Ponyville, then toward Cloud Kicker before taking a bypass around that minefield and, somehow, she managed to bring up Carrot Top. “She’s been on her own at home for about a year,” Ditzy explained. “She’s been so busy since then. She used to make these wonderful carrot muffins when she came to visit, but now I only see her at market.” “Hopefully that’ll change soon.” I shook my head. “I think it’s starting to get to her: she was almost desperate for contact when I met her, and I think it’s starting to affect her judgement.” Ditzy’s head tilted and her mismatched eyes narrowed. “Did she do something wrong?” “I wouldn’t call it wrong, but there was some alcohol involved and one thing led to another…” I finished on a slight nod. There was a slight gasp from Ditzy as she covered her mouth. A perceptive observer would also note a slight unfurling of wings as well. “What happened after?” she asked from behind her hooves. “We decided to give things a while to settle. Clear our heads,” I said and Ditzy nodded. “I’ve gotten myself involved now, and you know I can’t resist meddling. I’ve already spoken to Caramel and I’m going to see if I can’t get Carrot Top to cut down her workload.” Ditzy nodded again sagely. “We don’t want another baked-bads incident.” Ditzy’s right eye twitched counter-clockwise. Remember, Ditzy has a love of muffins that goes into obsession, and regularly eats them by the half-dozen. Try not to imagine the level of food poisoning she got after eating what Equestrian Baker Magazine called, ‘The worst thing since Discord’s Upside-Down and Inside-Out Cake’. “I doubt she’d get that bad, but yeah.” I leaned forward. “You know her better than I would. So, what can you tell me about Carrot’s past relationships?” I was gambling on this, Ditzy could be my best source of information about Carrot, and I’d built up some good will over lunch that could loosen her lips. “Umm,” Ditzy said with confusion on her face. “Why?” “It’s a quick way to find out about how she thinks,” I reasoned. Not that this was ever going to sound normal. Ditzy’s eyes twirled a few times while she thought. Eventually she said, “She had a fling with Big Mac a while ago.” “Really?” I said as I bounced that around my mind. “Actually, that explains a bit.” Another thought popped up. “Hmm, isn’t Applejack supposed to be super protective?” Ditzy blushed. “She caught them together in a hay stack.” I blinked a few times. “Well, sounds like they were following tradition there.” Ditzy looked like she was about to ask me about that when a cry of slightly distorted pain came from across the town square. Our heads shot around to find the source. Out in the square a fight had broken out and I had to rub my eyes to be sure what I was seeing was real. Pokey Pierce was getting beaten up by Fluttershy. “Is that?” Ditzy asked quietly. “Yeah,” I mumbled back. “And is she?” “Kicking the stuffing out of Ponyville’s most acerbic stallion? Yeah, she is.” Our heads tilted to the left, and we watched in stunned shock as Fluttershy spun Pokey around, bucked him into the air, and then flew up to slam him down on the ground. Wisely, Pokey didn’t try to get back up. “I’m going to go over there,” I said reluctantly. “Ditzy, could you go find some guards, in case I need them to save me?” Ditzy looked kinda relieved. “Yeah, good luck,” she added and she quickly took off. Fluttershy stood with a hoof on Pokey and reared up in the air yelling, “Nopony pushes New Fluttershy around, nopony!” Suddenly I wasn’t too keen on walking over there. You know what’s scary? Imagine a cute and innocent looking rabbit suddenly leaping and biting at your face. Now that was what Fluttershy looked like to me. Thankfully it didn’t have to be my problem. Cloud Kicker and Blossomforth landed behind Fluttershy, who promptly turned to face the fresh targets. Cloud’s a competent hoof to hoof fighter, I’ve seen her break another pegasus’s wing mid-flight before, and so I was reasonably sure she could deal with Fluttershy. Blossom might be helpful in that fight as a distraction and Ditzy would have the guards over here soon. So while all the pegasi were distracted, I nipped in and threw Pokey onto my back. “Come on,” I murmured and stepped back just as Fluttershy gave a berserker war cry and flew at Blossomforth. The pair rolled away in a cloud of dust as a crowd of ponies spontaneously gathered to watch. I looked over my shoulder to check on my cargo. Pokey didn’t look so good; he was looking around blearily and could barely keep focus on anything. Worse, I could see a crack around the tip of his horn. “What did you do to Fluttershy?” I asked. It’d have to be something insane to get the kindest pony in existence to turn into a wrecking ball. Pokey didn’t answer. Instead, he just stared over at the ruckus where the two mares were still trying to fight each other as they rolled around in the dirt. I tilted my head to try and make it out. Fluttershy had Blossom pinned down, but somehow she was flexible enough to bite back. Then Cloud Kicker said, “Is it just me, or is this kinda hot?” The entire crowd inched away from her. I suppose Cloud, by sheer dint of who she is, would have a broader range for that sort of thing. I can’t think of anypony else in town who’d like this, except maybe… oh dear. I looked over my shoulder at the colt on my back. Pokey Pierce was staring shakily at the two ponies fighting on the ground, he was breathing a bit more heavily and a little faster too. “Okay, we need to get you to a hospital,” I said and set off at a brisk canter. Pokey complained unintelligibly as I took him away. I didn’t care; he could watch that sort of thing on his own time, and not on my back. Overhead I could see Ditzy leading a trio of guards towards the fracas. So at least that problem was sorted, for now at least.   The mayor met me at the hospital. “How is he?” she asked me as we looked into the room where Pokey was getting some sleep. “He’ll be fine. There was a slight fracture on the horn, which concussed him pretty badly, but Doc Stable’s tended to that. Pokey just needs to lay off the magic for a few days, rest, and put a bit more dairy in his diet.” “Good,” the mayor said with a nod. “I’d had worried this might have been worse.” “Blossomforth?” I asked. “Just bruising,” the mayor said. “But I’ve been told that there have been a number of other incidents around town.” “Fluttershy as well? She’s released a lot of repressed anger in that fight today.” “Not just her,” the mayor sighed. I looked over at her with an eyebrow raised in interest. “There have been a dozen ‘rage’ incidents from several different ponies across town and I wouldn’t have expected this sort of thing from any of them.” “Why not?” “They’re all the quiet types that would never raise a hoof in anger.” I contemplated the ceiling for a moment. “Quiet types, doormats, the sort of pony who’d never inconvenience somepony else with their problems, right?” I said before adding darkly, “The type that would hold their anger in until they blow.” The mayor nodded. “Who all attended an assertiveness seminar.” “So it would seem,” the mayor said. “And I’m worried that there are more incidents that I haven’t heard about.” “That Fluttershy blowing up is just the tip of a big ugly iceberg.” “Thank you for putting it so eloquently, Time Turner.” “It’s a gift. Don’t worry about it, it won’t last. They’ll vent their anger and everypony will just move on,” I said I breezily waved my hoof in the air. “It’ll be all back to normal before anypony notices.” The mayor took her glasses off to rub her eyes. “As much as I would like to believe that, Time Turner, you forget something.” “Hmm?” “All these troubles can be traced back to Iron Will’s seminar. His methods and phrases are all over the town because Fluttershy yelled them every time she did something.” The mayor was starting to sound really worried now, and she was staring into Pokey’s room like it was a dark tunnel. “Iron Will did his seminar with my permission. My signature is on the contract, and the town is receiving a cut of the profits.” “And we’ll probably do good things with it. We’ll more than make up for any problems caused.” I could see the light at the end of the tunnel. But the mayor saw an oncoming train. She looked at me with panic building behind her eyes. “Nopony will care because this was my fault.” There was a gasp from behind us. We froze and slowly turned to look. Lilly Valley was standing behind us. She had a small bundle of her speciality lilies in a bouquet held in her mouth. My eyes narrowed. “Lilly, how long have you been listening?” “Not long,” she said around the flowers. She looked down at them, past us at Pokey’s room, and back to us while smiling nervously. The mayor coughed politely. “Lilly—” Lilly flicked her head, threw the flowers into the room and bolted. She left behind her a cloud of dust and a lily that fell from her mane. I picked up the lost flower. “She’s probably going to go find the rest of the Flower Trio.” I shook my head. “The entire town will know about this within an hour.” The mayor fell back onto her haunches. “I’m doomed,” she said quietly. “My political career, ruined.” Her left eye twitched. “Unless…” she hissed. Her eyes started to bore into me. I took a step back, but she left up and seized me by the shoulders. “Time Turner, you need to find Iron Will and get him to fix this!” “Mayor, calm down.” “No! If we don’t fix this then it’ll get into the paper, they’ll add a ‘gate’ name to it and it’ll cost me the election!” “Mayor, it’s another two years until the next election.” “They’ll still remember. Worse, my opponent will use it.” The mayor was right in my face, her glasses making a dent in my muzzle. “Fix it!” “Yes, mayor.” “Good.” She stepped back and took a deep breath. Then she went into Pokey’s room, picked up the flowers Lilly had thrown in and put them in a vase by the bed. When she came back out she was calm again. She looked over her glasses at me. “Why are you still here, Time Turner? Remember, your name is on the contract too.” I got moving.   I’d swung by my house to pick up my bags with the signed contract, and as an afterthought I put my hat on as well. I was going into potentially assertive negotiations with a minotaur. The hat would help. My first destination was the hedge maze, but it was empty when I got there. The stage had been packed up, but the carriages were still there. He was still around somewhere. I went back into the town and started searching. Iron Will had to be off collecting his fees for the seminar and I’d run into him soon enough. As I rambled around I started to notice ponies talking. They always do, but I couldn’t help but think they were talking about today’s events. Gossip is never fun when you start to think you are the target. I heard a buzzing sound flying toward me and I looked over my shoulder. It was the filly again. Little Miss Scooter, and she had a cart attached to the back of her setup with her friends. Just to be annoying, I waved at them. The two passengers waved back, and then something weird happened. Everything slowed down. As I watched the two fillies continued waving in slow motion, honest smiles on their faces, while the driver shot a glare in my direction before her wings moved just a little bit faster in slow motion flapping. Instead of a continuous buzz I could hear each wingbeat which was suddenly drowned out by a loud crash that hadn’t been slown down. Then, as soon as it happened, it ended, and the fillies shot off again at regular speed. Looking around though, nopony else seemed to have noticed what had happened. It was like time had sped up for me, or the world had slowed down, just for a few seconds. I pulled my watch out from under my hat and checked it against a nearby clock. There was a difference, I couldn’t be quite sure, but my watch was a few seconds out of sync. I’d need to check the royal clock to be sure, but I had a hunch that somepony nearby had cast a time spell. I remembered the normal-sounding crash and went in that direction. I had to find who cast it. Time spells are grossly illegal. In fact it’s enshrined in the big unicorn ‘Don’t’s’ under number six as: ‘Thou shalt not alter the timeline’. In theory it’s limited to paradox creating spells only, but in practice it bans anything involving magic and time. Mainly because anypony breaking the little rules will quickly graduate to breaking the big ones. Especially as anypony toying with time will generally go entirely unnoticed by anypony else. Needless to say, my little time turn trick broke more than a few of those little rules. I ran past an alleyway and heard a groan. Doubling back, I looked in to find a couple of ponies with trash cans over their heads. “How the buck did that twerp do that?” came an echoing voice from inside a can. The other got his hooves around the other and pushed it off. Trash fell out around him. “Donno, but when we find that drillhead again, I’m going to—Who the buck are you?” he said as he noticed me. I stepped into the alleyway. “The better question is, what happened to you two?” “Not tellin’ you bozo.” The other one got the can off his head and stood up. Both outsized me, although but neither was as large as Mac. “Why don’t ya just run off, Brownie. Before I trashcan your flank.” “Sticks and Stones may try to break my bones, but your threats will never hurt me.” Figures, I’d have to run into these two morons. Sticks and Stones here had probably the worst reputation in town for being stupid, and nasty. Because of that nopony likes them, and so they hate everypony else for it. Give them a chance and they’d hurl mildly inventive insults while threatening you with actual violence. Best part is that they’re probably stupid enough to follow through on their threats. I looked between the two of them. Their attempt to look intimidating was ruined by the garbage in their manes. “Looks like you two finally managed to annoy somepony bigger than you, who was it?” The browner one, Sticks I assume, said, “Nopony, nothing happened, and if ya know what’s good for ya, you won’t say nothing.” Of course neither wanted to believe they’d been beaten, and so they’d pretend it never happened. But I had to know who cast the time dilation spell. “You know what? Tell me and I won’t,” I said. “Or are you two too scared to admit a unicorn managed—” All credit to Stones, I didn’t see that sucker punch coming. The hoof came from the side and knocked me off my hooves. I fell against the wall and felt at my jaw. It hurt badly, definitely a fracture. The two advanced on me with smirks on their little smug faces at my pain. I pointed at the grey one and said, “You’re going to regret that about five seconds ago.” Though what I said probably didn’t sound too clear through the broken jaw. “Back up.” Which honestly sounded more like ‘ach ut’. I stopped it just as Stones moved to throw his punch. With forewarning, and recent memory of the pain, I ducked the punch. Stones had thrown everything he had into it and stumbled forward toward me. My counter wasn’t nearly as nice as his first punch. I didn’t go for the side of the jaw like he did. No I was far, far, too annoyed. Instead, I brought my right hoof up under his jaw and hit him with the most vicious uppercut I could manage. There was a clack noise as I drove his teeth together in his mouth – probably something he’d need a dentist to check. Stones stumbled back and Sticks stepped forward to stand between us. I pointed at Sticks, “Are you going to tell me who, or do I have to do that again?” I bluffed. Sure the time turn saved me that time, but it would be a couple of minutes until I could do that again, and there were still two very large angry ponies in front of me. “Not telling you nothing,” Sticks said. That clinched it. I wasn’t going to get anything out of them. “Alright then.” I slowly started to back out into the street. “Here’ a tip for you two chuckle heads. Keep acting like this, and one day you’ll going to piss the wrong pony off. Clean up your act before someone forces it on you.” I backed out into the street, not wanting to take my eyes off them until I was out in full view again. Once out, I stormed off. I was frustrated that there was so little I could do about them. Those two were already on the ‘do not serve’ list of every store in town, and the Gentlecolt’s Club had quietly agreed they wouldn’t receive any help from its members. On top of that, most of the stallions in town were waiting for an excuse to deal with them themselves. Ironically, if I’d let them beat me up; it would have given the town the final excuse needed to get rid of them permanently. But they’d escaped that, and I didn’t even get the caster’s name. Whoever it was must have had their own problems with the pair to risk the heavy penalties for using a time dilation spell. I shelved the mystery and my misgivings with S&S for the time being. I had to find Iron Will. I had to hope for more clues on the former, and the latter would soon take care of themselves.   I eventually found Iron Will and his goats in the market row among the farmer’s stalls. He had a little basket full of apples and was negotiating with Carrot Top over the price of carrots. “Iron Will could buy carrots for his goats from anypony else. Why should we get them from you at that price?” Carrot stood up with hooves braced against her stall. “Nopony else sells the Vanhoover Sweet carrot that your goat wants.” She pointed at one of the goats who had half a carrot sticking out of his mouth. The goat was also giving the minotaur kiddy goat eyes. “Iron Will shall be in Vanhoover in two days, and can buy them then.” “Then you’d be buying from my parents, and they won’t undercut me.” The minotaur lent down to stare at Carrot from across her produce. “Then you’d better undercut them, or I won’t buy anything!” The goat bleated, but Iron Will snorted at him to shut up. “Eighty bits for the entire stand,” Carrot offered. She had about seven bunches of around ten, so a decent price. “Sixty,” the minotaur said as he flexed his muscles enough to fill the entire stand front. “Seventy and that one’s free.” Carrot nodded toward the goat who had surreptitiously tried to snag another. The minotaur stepped back. “We have a deal,” Iron Will said calmly. He made a fist and bumped it against Carrot’s hoof. A goat nipped forward and Iron Will took a bag full of bits from it to give to Carrot. Another goat came forward with a cart which Iron Will slid all the carrots into. Iron Will nodded politely, and said, “Thank you.” Carrot Top nodded back before she noticed me. “Time Turner.” “Hello, Goldie,” I replied and turned to Iron Will. “Mr Will, there is a slight problem with your seminar.” “A problem,” he groaned. “Two dozen towns and this is the first one to give me trouble.” The quiet acceptance surprised me. I’d been expecting a shouting match. “Something happen?” “Miss Fluttershy wasn’t satisfied.” He looked up at the sky and said, “Everypony has always been satisfied until now. The performance was perfect.” “That’s actually the problem,” I said. “It was too good, and now there are ponies all over town arguing. Fluttershy herself got into fights twice today, and she’s never hurt a pony before.” The minotaur rallied. “Then Iron Will’s methods are working, ponies are being assertive and standing up for themselves.” Carrot Top spoke up. “There’s been a lot more trading in the market today. Buyers have been more courageous and we’re selling extra stock because of it.” “You see! Iron Will’s methods have revitalized this market.” He struck a pose. “And now the sales are reaching their targets.” If the goats hadn’t been distracted I’d have probably seen fireworks then. “But it’s causing another problem,” I said. “Do you want to leave ponies dissatisfied?” Iron Will fell out of his pose with a sigh. “What’s wrong?” “The doormats you teach are lashing at with the slightest provocation. Fluttershy’s dumped garbage over ponies, literally kicked another pony out of a cab, and got into a dust-up with a friend.” I shrugged. “You probably never noticed this before, but Fluttershy’s an extreme example. The problem is that your doormats have probably been pushed around for years, and they’ve built up a lot repressed anger that they never released. “Fluttershy herself probably had decades of anger she never dealt with, but since you’ve given them an outlet, they’re dumping it on other ponies. Some might deserve it, but there are others that don’t and they’re suffering instead.” Iron Will accepted this quietly while rubbing his chin and began to pace as he thought about it. “If it helps,” I added quietly. “Word has already gotten out, and you’ll probably start to get refund requests if you don’t do anything about it. The mayor would also like to remind you that you’re liable for damages.” Liable, that’s a word that makes businessponies sweat, and the threat of mass refunds tends to work as well. I’d delivered a bit of a stick. Carrot stepped out from behind her stand and stood next to me. “Mr Will, you said it yourself. You’ve improved business here at market, and if ponies are expressing their anger then that’s a good thing. At least it isn’t eating them up inside.” “It’s causing problems though,” I added. “True,” Carrot accepted with a nod. “But that just means you need to modify your seminar. You can also help ponies by showing them how to vent that anger properly. If you do that, then everypony will be satisfied.” Iron Will stood in front of us. “So, I should add a…” he paused to think. “…An Anger Management topic to the seminar then.” Carrot and I glanced at each other, and then we nodded. “It might help to do it sooner rather than later,” I added. The fire came back into the minotaur. “Then to keep Iron Will’s satisfaction guarantee, Iron Will shall run another seminar tomorrow.” “With free entry,” Carrot Top added. “With free entry,” Iron Will echoed. “But first Iron Will must learn anger management. Where is the nearest library?” I pointed down the road. “That way, it’s the big hollow tree in the centre of town, you can’t miss it. And if you want to find a book quickly you should ask the dragon, not the pony.” “Iron Will thanks you, and hopes to see you both tomorrow.” The minotaur stepped backwards onto one of his goats and it started off down the street. The rest followed, one seemed to be eating its tie. We watched them leave and I commented, “I hope Spike will be paying attention, otherwise he might lose a few books to those goats.” Carrot Top giggled. She looked back over at her empty stall. “Looks like I’m done for today, what about you?” “I’ve done my work for this week.” “So, would you like to go get some coffee together?” Carrot Top asked politely. Time for a decision I suppose. Goldie’s made her choice by the sound of it, so now I have to. I thought quickly, this had been running through my mind for the last week, but I’d always come back to my original conclusion. “Sure,” I said. “But first I need to put all this away.” I nodded to the bags on my back and gave them a little bump. “I’ll come with,” Carrot said. She went behind her stall and got her cart. “Do you mind if I leave this by your place?” “No problem, you can just leave it around back,” I said with a shrug. We set off down the street together. The good thing about Ponyville is that you’re never far from where you want to go. “So,” Carrot said as she walked along side. “How was your week?” “Dull, with the occasional blip of interest. Nothing I’d write home about, you know.” “Mine wasn’t bad,” Carrot replied. “Caramel came out to see me yesterday, he said you sent him.” “Yeah, I did.” I looked back at her empty cart. “Did you decide to hire him?” Carrot nodded, “It took a few hours to show him what to do, but he got to work quick enough. With all the extra planting I might be able to start selling carrots out of town soon.” “Sound like things are working out.” “It’s just a start, I have to see how things pan out first. Thanks for sending him out though.” “You knew that you needed the help, I just nudged things along.” A few moments later we arrived. “Here we are, come around back and we’ll leave your cart there.” I unlocked my back door while Carrot unhitched herself. “Why do you lock your door like that?” Carrot asked. “Come have a look inside and see.” I opened the door and let her go in first. I followed her and waited for her to ask about it, ponies usually do. Tiiiiicccckkkkk toooccckkkkk “How did you do that?” “Practice,” I said smugly as she tried to work it out. The walls of my hallway are lined with pendulum clocks made by yours truly, and they tick in sequence. The clock by the front door ticks and the sound travels down the hall as the others tick, creating an interesting sound wave effect. Then the clocks tock. “They’re fifty bits each and come with my personal guarantee.” “That’s amazing.” “If you think that’s amazing then you should see the zebrican one I have upstairs.” I pointed  down the hall. “The lounge is down the hall and on the right. I’ll just go put this stuff down in my work shop.” We split off and I took the door on my left into my ‘Timeless Room’. In here clocks wait to be repaired or made. A few prototypes lie around, as well as spare parts for the town’s clock tower. I went over to my drafting table and took out some note paper and a pencil. I took my watch out and checked it against another sitting on my desk. I did a couple of fast calculations on paper and took out another sheet to write a letter on. To Siren, from Time Turner. Siren, thanks for the heads up. I’m not sure if this is quite what you’re looking for, but something unusual has happened in Ponyville. Today I caught a hint of a sixth law violation cast by an unknown unicorn. The effect was brief – judging by the time dilation effect on one of my watches vs one at home – it sent time out of sync by around six seconds. Time was dilated to around thirty-five to forty percent of normal for a period of approximately two seconds where I was, but probably more dilated closer to the caster, around twenty-five by my guess. During this period, the caster threw rubbish bins over the heads of two assailants. I will include copies of their records from Ponyville’s town hall. They refused to identify whoever they were harassing, unfortunately, so I don’t know who cast it yet. I’ll find out soon enough though. There can’t be many unicorns capable of that, T Sparkle perhaps, but beyond her it’d have to be an alpha or talented beta. On a final note, the two assailants managed to… annoy me. They are on very thin ice as is in town, and it’s only a matter of time before they do something stupid. When that time does come, I’d consider it a personal favour if you fast tracked them for a reform spell treatment. I know you’re not a fan of that sort of thing, but trust me, they deserve it. Wishing you all the best Time Turner I put the letter under the watch. I’d have Ditzy take it when she did her next delivery. I mussed my hair back up and went out to catch up with Carrot Top. She hadn’t sat around while I was busy, and I found her playing with the vault in my lounge room. She was trying to see into it through the keyhole in the center of the door. “Looking for something, Goldie?” She looked back at me over her shoulder. “Why do you have a giant vault in your lounge room?” “Because I didn’t think I could get it up the stairs safely.” I rubbed my chin. “I thought about putting it in the basement, but I’d never get it out of there. Wouldn't want to drop it either, it made a crater in the ground last time.” “No, why do you have a vault? This has to be solid steel. It’s probably worth what, two thousand bits?” “Thunderforged steel actually,” I said matter of fact. “Add another thousand bits or so to your estimate.” “How did you pay for it?” Carrot asked as she ran her hoof along the smooth finish. The fall hadn’t even scratched the surface of the thing, it’s quality work. “I didn’t, but there’s a long story behind it.” I couldn't help but smile at the memories. “If you want to hear it we can go get coffee from someplace and I’ll tell you.” “Sure,” she said with a shrug. “I’ve got time.”