//------------------------------//
// Day 1 
// Story: Golden Harvest - Babysitter 
// by SpigotOfTheFrigate 
//------------------------------//

There are certain fundamental laws that exist in the multiverse. For unknown reasons certain nodules of truth float through existence shaping all of creation. While not exactly ironclad these strange and often nonsensical rules exist. Time travel accomplishes almost nothing. Henchmen become less powerful when working in groups. The password is almost always swordfish. Sandwiches taste better when cut diagonally. 

And of course all harrowing experiences are preceded by The Long Walk. Heroes had to cross the battlefield to face their nemesis in single combat. Rebels and outlaws were escorted from their cells to the gallows. Employees had to walk down long dramatic corridors to face their bosses. Variations even existed for different species. The Long Slither, The Long Flight, The Long Skip, The Long Swim, The Long Crawl, and in one truly bizarre case The Long Up-Beat Dance Sequence. But regardless of dimension, time period, or form of locomotion used; right before pivotal moments The Long Walk waited to greet the intrepid hero and help them build a suitable level of tension.

Currently in a small but colorful world, in a small but colorful town a pony was taking The Long Walk. 

Her name was Golden Harvest, though most ponies knew her by her much despised nickname Carrot Top. She was walking up the main road of Ponyville, leaving the comfort of her farm far behind to face one of the most dreaded trials she had ever been forced to weather. 

Babysitting. The very word sent a shiver down her spine.

Of course most ponies met babysitting with a range of emotions, from a little excited to slightly annoyed. But most ponies were not Golden Harvest. Golden was not a social pony. She had many interests (carrots, farming carrots, selling carrots, cooking with carrots, thinking about carrots, eating carrots, drawing pictures of carrots, rolling around on big piles of carrots, etc.), but none of those interests really involved ponies. She didn’t hate ponies… most ponies anyway. She just harbored a general dislike of socialization. Mostly because she wasn’t very good at it. She was a sourpuss and about as subtle as a burning sledgehammer. Add to that an almost prodigious ability to cuss and just the subtlest hint of a mean streak to form whatever the logical opposite of a social butterfly is. 

But there was more to it than that. For deep down on some fundamental level Golden was scared of ponies. They just seemed so fragile and complicated. The wrong word or phrase or look could enrage or utterly devastate a pony, and she had no idea what would set them of until she had already hurt them.

So she stuck to her strengths. Like carrots. Carrots were simple. She planted them. She watered them. She weeded when necessary. Then one day (after properly apologizing) she harvested them. She didn’t need to worry that this carrot may have had a traumatizing experience with water and wouldn’t want any. Or maybe that one was ideologically opposed to her fascist oppression of weeds. Or Celestia forbid one of the carrots may have gone through a messy break up with the sun and needed to be grown in the shade. Hell, carrots were mellow enough to be brutally murdered by their caretaker and just sort of except it.

Carrots were simple, ponies were complex. Children were fucking nightmares. They were raw, chaotic bundles of emotion, never showing any modicum of self-control. If they were happy they were bouncing of the walls singing ecstatically. If they were scared they were shivering under their blanket. If they were sad they were balling their eyes out. And they could be swung to any of these emotional extremes with only the slightest prodding. In fact Golden made it a steadfast rule to avoid foals whenever possible.

But her rule about foals had been trumped by her rule about friends. 

Unsurprisingly Golden had few friends. So the ones she had she planned on keeping. As such she had an unbreakable rule to always help her friends when they needed it. So when asked by her best friend to babysit she overcame her near phobia of kids and said yes. Then Ditzy Doo explained she would only be gone for a week and Golden very nearly throttled her.

A single night was one thing, it was a few hours and the kids would be in bed for most of it. Heck she might even enjoy it. Dinky and Amethyst were practically family. But a whole week of looking after her best friends little sisters was just tempting fate. Something was going to go wrong. Horribly, horribly, horribly wrong. 

The damage however was already done. Ditzy was leaving tonight, couriering a package to the Crystal Empire. And with her gone all the responsibilities of legal guardianship would fall squarely on Golden Harvest’s back.

And so Golden had left the comforts of hearth and home far behind and took The Long Walk to her friend’s one story cottage. 

And as she approached her doom Golden did her best to keep calm.

Just calm the fuck down, she thought to herself, a few days won’t kill you damn it. I mean yeah most kids are… awful, but it’s Dinky Doo and Amethyst Star, for shit’s sake. Dinky’s nice enough, I mean she’s way too fucking smart for her own good, but she’s quiet at least. Just give her a book and she’s good to go. And Amethyst is a teenager, that’s basically an adult. She’s hormonal as all get out, but at least she… I actually don’t have a good counter argument for that. She paused as she briefly considered going into hiding. Oh stop being a fucking pussy! It’s babysitting for Luna’s sake! Any asshole can do it, all you have to do is feed them and make sure they don’t set themselves on fire or whatever.

Golden snapped herself from her attempted pep talk as she neared Ditzy’s front door. Taking a deep calming breath she lifted her hoof to tap lightly on the door. Then, because Golden could learn from past experience, she braced herself while folding down her ears. 

Suddenly the door burst open and a grey blur bowled into Golden with what could only be described as excessive force. Golden slid several inches backwards as she felt the air crushed from her lungs by a vice like hug. All the while wincing knowing the worst part was still coming.

“CARROT TOP!!!” Ditzy yelled with slightly more volume than a pony should be able to produce. And yet the ear shattering scream bothered Golden only slightly less than her nickname. 

“Hey there Ditzy.” Golden struggled to say, her normal southern belle accent squeezed out of her voice.

“Thank you so much for doing this.” Ditzy somehow managed to chirp earnestly. 

Golden could only shrug awkwardly, muttering a quick “It’s not a big fucking deal or anything Ditzy.”

Then Golden caught a glimpse of her friend’s walled eyes narrowing. That wasn’t normal. Ditzy was tough as nails, it was how their friendship had survived since childhood. But Ditzy didn’t do anger. She was more or less in a state of perpetual pep. So her unintentionally adorable attempt at an icy stare was a giant red flag to anyone who knew her. Golden was proud to say she knew Ditzy better than anypony alive, so she knew almost instantly what she had done wrong.

“Sorry,” she said looking anywhere but at her friend. “It just sortta slipped out.”

Ditzy’s countenance completely flipped at the apology. The huge smile that spread across her face was slightly more infectious than your average flu, and Golden was powerless to stop her own grin from forming.

“I promise I won’t cuss in front of them.” Golden said as much to herself as to Ditzy.

“Yes you will,” Ditzy giggled. “All I ask is that you do your best.”

And she really meant it. Other ponies might not, they’d say “do your best” as a euphemism for “do it as well as equinely possible.” But Ditzy always said exactly what she meant. Golden’s best was good enough. Knowing that her friend trusted and valued her filled Golden with a mix of pride and affection that she rarely felt. It was a feeling that was worth all the carrots in the world. Well a vast majority anyway. Maybe sixty percent.

“Come on in, I’ve just got to say my goodbyes.” 

Stepping into Casa de Doo was an enlightening experience. Golden didn’t know who it was that said you could tell everything you needed to know about a pony by their home, and it didn’t really matter who said it because Golden thought that was bullshit. She thought that there was something to the opposite thought process though. There was just a homey vibe to the house that perfectly encapsulated Ditzy and her family. 

The living room was a warm, calm, robin’s egg blue. Large windows let in plenty of sunlight and gave the room a lovely view. The brick fireplace was flanked by floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. Each one was stuffed to the brim with books on every subject imaginable. Ditzy’s mother, Stanza Star, had spent her life collecting them. All three other walls were plastered with photos. Ditzy’s father, Dusty Doo, had a passion for photography. Most of them were of his family, though a few were from his work showing exotic plants and animals from deep in the Everfree Forest. 

Resting on the mantle were three solitary items. On the left was a brass badge. The words Everfree Rangers and the number 177 were just barely still visible, but you could still read it if you knew what it said ahead of time. On the right was a small book. Its lilac cover was just beginning to fade, but the gold leaf type was still clearly visible. It read The First Flight, The First Spell, and the New Seed. A collection of poetry by Stanza Star. Squarely between the two was a picture of a young park ranger and an aspiring poet/librarian locked in an eternal embrace. 

It was incredible the way Stanza and Dusty’s presence seemed to linger over the house. It was almost seven years since either of them had so much as laid eyes on the house, and yet it almost felt as if they were just in the other room. For Golden it was a source of ambivalence. She didn’t know whether to be impressed that Ditzy had managed to preserve their spirit, or sad that she hadn’t been able to move on from them. A small part of Golden was jealous that Ditzy’s relationship with her parents was so strong, but Golden knew that made losing them all the harder.

All of this added up in Golden’s mind to a giant minefield. If she said something stupid Ditzy would forgive and forget. But in the world of babysitting it was one gigantic pitfall she had to avoid like the plague. She knew all too well that a tough family situation could make even the best ponies a little crazy. And it could turn children into monsters.

Currently the two potential monsters were wrapped in their own little worlds. Dinky was on the floor in front of the hearth. She crouched over a large book, staring morosely at the pages without really reading. She was radiating a degree of hopelessness that only a child about to be separated from their mother (or surrogate mother in this case) can. Amethyst on the other hand was lounging on the beat up old couch, an aloof expression on her face as she sketched on a note pad held in her magic. She was clearly in the “I am too old/cool to be sad” phase of adolescence. 

As the three sisters said their goodbyes Golden sized up her charges. 

Ok so start with Dinky. She’s kinda like a little Ditzy. And she’s sad. She thought quickly.

No fucking way genius! The sad foal is sad! They’re gonna rewrite the Celestia damned textbooks after this gets out! A small snide voice spoke from the corner of her mind.

You’re not helping! And if you dare say you’re not trying to help, I’m going to beat seven kinds of shit out of you. So if it was little Ditzy how would we cheer her up? 

We usually would just walk her home and let Mrs. Star cheer her up. 

Ok, how did she do it? 

She’d make muffins while we played in the living room. Oh and after we left she talked to Ditzy about whatever made her sad.

Well we suck ass when it comes to baking muffins. And talking about feelings.

We were good at getting savagely ass-blasted in shoots and latters. 

That game was bullshit, it was dumb fucking luck that decided the game. But winning did usually make Ditzy feel a little better.

But she’s not the real problem, is she? 

Well how’d we cheer up teenage Ditzy?

We didn’t she cheered us up.

I don’t mean to interrupt, a third voice interjected, but you should probably stop referring to yourself as a “we.” Also Ditzy’s trying to talk to you.

“Carrot? Are you okay?” Ditzy was staring at her, golden eyes full of concern. She was flanked by her younger sisters. She had a wing draped over each of them in a sort of protective hug. Dinky gladly leaned into the hug very near to openly crying. Amethyst was a bit more awkward, torn between the comfort of the embrace and her own pride. 

“I’m fine, what’d you say.” Golden said shaking her head to banish the unwanted voices and thoughts.

“I told Dinky and Sparkler they’re in good hooves, right?” Ditzy said seemingly oblivious to her friend’s mounting anxiety and her sisters’ melancholy.

“Ummm… Yes?” Golden’s answer lacked conviction in the same way a desert might lack water.

“Excellent!” The lone happy pony in the room warbled while smiling brightly. “Now, I love you.” She said while leaning down to kiss a forlorn Dinky. “And I love you.” She said planting a smooch on a cringing Amethyst. “And I love you.” She said before giving a shell-shocked Golden a quick peck on the forehead. “I’ll see you all in a week, too-de-loo!” And with a loving glance back at her three favorite ponies Ditzy was out the door and gone for what was sure to be a long week.

As soon as she was gone the room completely changed. All the warmth seemed to flee, and an awkward silence settled between the three ponies like a big, cottony wedge. They all just stood there staring blankly at each other. Seconds crept by, before maturing into minutes. Finally when Golden could take no more she cleared her throat and spoke.

“So-” Bang! She had barely formed her thought before the door was opened with enough speed to cause a miniaturized sonic boom. 

“Sorry I forgot my suitcase.” Ditzy said scooping up her luggage in her mouth. “O-ay oo-e-oo fo ree is ime.” 

And just like that Golden had gone from square one to square zero and back to square one again. Not exactly the best start. But she had learned life was tough and you had to take advantage of every opportunity you got. Going from square zero to square one was a step in the right direction, and Golden would be damned if she didn’t ring every drop of worth out of that “momentum.”

“So-” Golden began mustering all her remaining confidence.

“I’ll be in my room.” Amethyst said before curtly turning towards the hallway and sauntering away.

Golden’s nerves were already frazzled, and being interrupted twice in one minute strained her already bad temper. She actually had to bite her tongue to keep herself from yelling. Not even that could stop herself from staring daggers at the teens back. 

Deep breath, Golden. You knew she was gonna be the tricky one. She’ll come out when she’s hungry. Just focus on Dinky for now.

“Well Dinky, looks like it’s just you and me.” Golden said forcing cheer into her voice and a smile onto her face.

“Mm-hmm.” The young unicorn said without even bothering to look up from her own hooves. The expression on her young face could only be described as terminally glum.

“You uh, wanna play a game?” Golden was almost begging. This was the last lifeboat on the S.S. Babysitting. Sink or swim.

“No thank you.” Dinky walked slowly back to her book before plopping down to read once more.

Sink it is then. Absolutely fan-fucking-tastic. Three minutes into babysitting and I’ve already fucked it up. Way to go dumbass. Just get out of here before you something else happens.

“I’ll just go get supper started.” Dinky didn’t even look up from her book. 

Golden shuffled to the kitchen, tail between her legs and head hung limply. At least cooking always cheered her up. Maybe, just maybe, she could win them over with food. Some pan-fried carrot-dogs and this whole endeavor could be back on track. She’d be in a better mood, and while it might not be the muffins with a side of love they were used to hopefully the girls would love her cooking.

She began to set out her ingredients. Flower, yeast, salt, water, and a dash of honey to make her buns. Pickled cucumbers, a sweet union, some vinegar, a veritable army of spices to make her relish. Homemade mustard, and ketchup. A few potatoes to mash and mix with milk and butter as a side. Lastly six fresh, fat, juicy carrots were pulled from her saddlebags to anchor the meal.

And then she started to cook in earnest. Golden may never have had the grace for dancing, but by Celestia she could cook. In one movement she set water to boil, oiled a skillet, and began to knead the dough. A blink of the eye and anyone watching would have missed it. And it went on like that. A slice, a mash, a sizzle, and a pinch of this or that. That was all it took for her to transform a motley arrangement of seemingly random produce into a beautiful, if admittedly simple, meal.

She looked upon her creation feeling a smug sense of pride. She may not have been able to do much as a babysitter, but damn it all if she couldn’t cook. 

Dinner is served bitches. Suck it! Golden’s victory dance was an energetic mess.

Then she looked at the clock.

It was two-thirty.

Golden hadn’t literally shaken with rage in several years, but that streak died right there and then. Still conscious of her promise to Ditzy, she bit her foreleg hard enough to draw blood. A low, menacing, but thankfully muffled growl was all that was able to escape her mouth. Any passing telepaths however were treated to a litany of profanities, curses, and more than a few blasphemies.

I took almost two full minutes of attempts at deep breathing for calm to return to the kitchen. Golden poured herself a large glass of water to wash the tastes of blood, fur, and rage from her mouth.

This is gonna be a long fucking week.