Flim slowly trotted up towards the small end of the (now broken) Super Speedy Cider Squeezy 6000. As he did, he was levitating a small notepad in front of him, scribbling notes on exactly what parts they’d need in order to repair this machine. Without any proper care, he knew this could only get worse.
Not like it wasn’t already worse at the time. Already, the ponies in the town had seen Flam’s blow up at Flim and were outright avoiding them. At the show they staged this morning to send themselves off, not one pony even showed up. To add insult to injury, Flam had disappeared, without leaving a single trace as to where he went.
I just hope he comes back alright, Flim sighed to himself, propping open the side of the machine and removing the glass to the apple sorting compartment.
The entire conveyor belt was actually twisted and had wrapped twice around the gears, stretching it but not snapping it yet. Many random objects were strewn across the innards, mainly rocks, twigs, and apple mush. He sighed, writing down rubber onto the listen nad then noted next to it “and new conveyor belt”.
The machine did seem to be done in, fore nothing that he did to fix it worked. He tried to patch up the belts, rewire the magic conductors, even replaced the cider press with a brand new one he’d just finished crafting. Nothing worked, as the machine simply was rotted within.
This had all started from that silly competition they’d put on to drive the apples out of business. After their nerves bested them, the increase in pressure had sucked objects that the machine could not process, and they simply were either sucked into the cider or were jammed within the mechanisms.
Without the money from their failed expenditure, the two ponies had not the parts nor time to fix it. In fact, their sudden departure had damaged the gears that specifically helped to move along the suction tube. This also meant that, despite their efforts to repair it, apples had to be fed manually into the press.
Finally, the machine simply had rotted and a circuit had blown inside the machine, and fried it from the inside out. That left him exactly where he was now: penniless and without the means to fix the machine.
In fact, he recalled just why it was that he’d even begun to make cider. He sighed, but his brain was simply forcing him to drift backwards in time. He went before that fateful decision, back to a night when he was just a little filly…
“Psst! Flam, wake up!” Flim nudged his brother, trying to wake him up.
Flam groaned, not wanting to leave the warmth of the bed. He turned his head and stared right into Flim’s eyes, “wha…what’s wrong?”
Flim looked excited as the words came tumbling out of his mouth, “Well I saw this pony who was selling stuff and he looked really cool and I was kinda wanting to go andseeifIcouldfindhimandask-”
Flam turned and hefted a stuffed pony and smacked Flim’s head gently with it, “Slow down Flimmy…what’s….what is it?”
Flim took a few deep breaths, “I saw this pony today on the street side and I was going to go and talk to him!”
His brother shot up and he wrapped his hooves around Flim’s shoulders, “You can’t go! Don’t you realize how dangerous it is at night?”
The pony blinked, “If Princess Luna’s night is so deadly, then why is it that we still want to have it?”
Flam opened his lips, but nothing came out. Instead he sighed and laid down, “Fine brother, just don’t get caught.”
Blinking at how easy it was the win his brother over, he smiled and started to trot towards the window, “I’ll be back when I can, just don’t let them know where I’ve gone!”
Flam grumbled and nodded, falling back to sleep even as Flim opened the window and jumped out onto the grass. Without another thought, he began to slowly trot down the street towards where the colt he saw earlier resided.
As Flim reclined against the broken machine, he pulled his hat over his eyes and began to slowly sigh. He turned to the left of the little machine and blinked at the red metal, and he couldn’t help but remember when they’d first built it.
So many years ago, they’d both decided to sell cider and they’d made a decision to use their own skills and craft this machine. Back in those days, it was just the Cider Squeezy 100, named for the horsepower they could squeeze out of it. It was a simple machine, which actually required much more work than the current machine they had.
However, they’d eventually gotten it to the power it was today, thanks to a run in with a mechanic who helped them increase the watts per ounce of magic of the machine. With that little tidbit of information, they’d enhanced the machine and made it into the mechanical monstrosity it was today.
And now it was broken, without bits to fix it, and barely able to move its wheels to get them out of this town. Eventually, they’d have to most likely rent out transport and scrap the machine.
Flim hated that very thought. The machine was dear to him, and he knew that it was to Flam as well. It was something that, despite the terror and the constant run-ins they’d encountered, they both were able to hold constant to them. No matter what happened, the machine was the only constant they were ever able to say wouldn’t change.
But now they’d have to leave it behind. And Flim wasn’t ready for that just yet.
He grabbed a small preforming cane that he normally used and trotted over toward the back of the machine and inspected the wheels for damage, just as a hoof slapped his flank.
He yelped and turned his head around to see a rather drunken Flam, his eyes crossed and levitating a large bottle of half-dranken cider in his grip. He looked at Flim and he stammered, “What’cha worken on there, brother?”
Flim sighed, and then gently took the bottle and laid it down, “This is no time to be inebriated brother! We need all our wits about us if we’re going to get out of this mess!”
Flam burped and then stumbled his way to the front, leaning on the triangular bumper and bleching out, “I’m just taking…taking the chance to have some fun before all Tartarus comes down on us! Join me!”
Flim shook his head nad angrily snatched up the bottle from him, then sat down and closed his eyes as he rubbed his temples, “Brother, don’t make this any harder! We’re already barely making enough to even eat, we don’t need this!”
Flam growled and suddenly his tongue sharpened, “Well I never did say…say that I ever wanted this damn thing fixed in the first place!”
That comment struck Flim like a blast of magic. He turned his head away and said nothing, simply trotting away towards the little couch and reclining on it.
Flam didn’t even bother to get up on the machine, simply laying down on the podium and passing out in his state, leaving his brother to fend for himself.
With a little sob, Flim turned his head into the little pillows they still had and pulled the blanket over himself, falling asleep as the night sky drifted overhead.
“Mr.colt! Mr.colt!” Filly Flim called into the night, running down the same road that they’d come earlier.
He stopped at the intersection of two cobblestone roads, turning his head left and right as the tried to make out where the pony was. As he squinted, he noticed a pony trotting down the lane and ran after him.
“Mr.colt! Excuse me, I’m Flim and I-”
The pony turned around and he sighed, “Kid, I don’t know who you’re talking about but I’m a stallion! Go home!”
As Flim turned away, he started to realize he wasn’t on the right street. Avoiding the rude stallion, he began to make his way to a side alley, where a little light began to emanate.
He gasped in joy and ran into the little alley, seeing a little cart and large amounts of the product he’d adored. He ran over to it and began to eye it.
The cart was small and portable, with little doors that folded down and sealed the contents inside. Built into the bottom was a little lock and key where he guessed the money was kept. The cart sported little lights all over it, which glowed fiercely in the night.
Flim was astounded as the looked over the display, and he finally saw a name on the edge of the cart. He blinked as he read it.
“Silver Shill…”
“Whose over there?” A young voice called.
Flim yelped and he turned to see a gray pony start to trot towards him. He was small, but he looked to be just out of fillyhood. He realized that he wasn’t a colt, but a very young stallion. He blinked and looked at him, fear freezing his features.
“Ah, I see you probably wanted some of my product?” the pony walked over, and he waved a hoof, “Sorry, I’m closed.”
Flim blinked and he whispered, “A-are you the seller from earlier?”
The pony nodded and he sat down, “yep, that’s me! The brightest shill you’ll ever meet!”
Flim blinked and he sat down, looking him up and down, “wow…”
“Are you a colt?” He asked, blinking, “Why are you out here all alone?”
Flim shook his head, “Well yeah I’m young but I saw you and I had to talk to you!”
Shill chuckled and he smiled, “What do you want to know?”
Flim slowly activated his magic, turning the wheels of the machine as they began to painfully move them away from the failed town.
He’d moved Flam onto the couch as he was crouched over the podium, downcast as the began to move them out into the unknown.
With ever screech, they slowly followed the road. But as they went away, he couldn’t help but feel more than money was left behind.