//------------------------------//
// Blame Timble 
// Story: The Bottom Shelf 
// by JakeAndDollars 
//------------------------------//


Blame Timble



You really should, after all he actually had the gall to leave a comment asking for it…
To anyone curious as to the fate of the critic… pretty sure he’s dead… At least I would be if his Facebook didn’t keep updating…  Then I remembered that it’s really just me sitting in front of a cheap laptop writing pony words, and all this is just in my head.
What follows is not rated at all because I’m not a critic in any legal sense of the word, though I should probably warn you about the severely random sludge you’re about to read. It may cause, moistening of the eyes, fits of uncontrolled laughter, and possible hiccups.


A blaring alarm shattered the silence of the cozy little bedroom, announcing to all within earshot that it was time to return to their depressing realities, a soulless reminder of things to come. At least it was until a shoe knocked the wretched destroyer of dream castles from its high and mighty dresser throne, and not a horseshoe like you’d probably expect, I mean a literal shoe. A big Nike sports shoe to be exact, size sixteen.
“Bucker, I’ma gonnn…” Mumbled a depressingly colored quadruped as it rolled over under the sheets, not realizing his already precarious position and slipping right off the mattress, murdering several innocent dust bunnies as they scampered about the floor, bringing sudden and tragic ends to their little dust bunny lives. Standing, the pony plodded towards his bathroom, ignoring the large picture window displaying the great city in all of its splendor. Being ravaged by the Changeling swarm.
Finishing the timeless morning tradition honored by stallions everywhere, and also taking a quick pee, he moved then to the kitchen to partake in the next part of the ritual, most commonly enacted by the, bachelor herd. Ramen noodles and cheap coffee. Grabbing the last packet out of its place, safely stored between the laundry soap and cat litter, he laid it on the piano bench table and opened the fridge. 
“ZULE MOTHA BUCKER!!!”
Blurry, unfocused eyes resting firmly on his prize, the brain drowned all attempts at the ears frantic messages to get through, coffee always came first. And coffee, needed creamer. And six lumps of sugar. Seven on a Monday, and nine on a Friday.
“ARE YOU A G-!”  Crunch! 
Ignoring the gyrating portal in the back of the fridge he retrieved his prize and shut the door, thoroughly smashing the emerging demon’s face into the side of a three week old box of eggs. “If anypony asks,” he muttered, setting everything on the table, glancing out another window at the embattled city, an explosion lighting up the background. “Damn, looks like rain,” he muttered tiredly.
Starting his coffee brewing the, apparently a Unicorn, flipped through a few bits of mail left on the floor near his door. “Bill, bill, bill, notice of eviction, notice of repossession, court summons, and an IRS threat letter,” another explosion shook the apartment, rattling the toaster right off the table onto the floor where it promptly ejected yesterdays entrapped endeavor to toast an uncut bagel.
Without missing a beat the pony caught the stale projectile out of the air and kept right on reading. “Bill, bill, bill, bill, sweet! I won a free Ipad!”   

/	/	/	/	/	/	/	/	/	/	/	/	

“Instant Report! You put that down this instant!” Called the orange mare as she trotted over to her companion, the stallion in question tearing his attention away from the half dozen battered changelings held in his grasp, an anchor chain off a ship wrapped around their throats tethering them to his raised hoof.
“But, darlin’, these pests are running around tearing up the city!” Instant Report replied, a gruff scowl crossing his muzzle as he effortlessly swung the bug ball into the side of a building, eliciting hisses of pain from the changelings. “Can’t I just…?”
“No! Instant, we managed to get one day off this whole month while the studio gets deloused,” she paused to smack away an errant fireball with a wing, the appendage glowing for a moment afterward. “I refuse to spend it working, besides, we promised Lens Cap to meet for shawarma, and I’ll not see even a hint of disappointment on the poor kid’s face,” the mare enunciated her point with a swift stomp, cracking the cobble street by accident.
“He’s three thousand and twelve, Morning. A little old to be calling him kid. Don’t you think?” Instant said with a little shake of his head, dropping the end of the chain as he approached his mare. “Alright, you win, no working.”
Morning Gossip couldn’t help but smile as the pair turned and headed down the road, even as Instant dragged the chain along with him, snapping the massive links as absentmindedly as one might pull apart old string. They made their way through the streets, paying the battling factions no mind as they fought, not so much as flinching at explosions, nor the arrows that simply bounced from their hides.
“Mortals,” Instant muttered as a sword shattered over his brow, the user sent flying back by not but a sigh. “Do you think they will ever learn?” 
Morning Gossip tittered softly, shaking her head as she watched the changeling warrior stare blankly at his broken spear, the head having broken apart upon her eyeball. “I sincerely doubt it, after ten thousand years, haven’t seen much improvement, though, must say I’m a fan of this modern Equish, much faster than the old tongue.”
“Agreed,” Instant replied with a thinly veiled smile, tossing a link of chain into the air, watching as it impacted the side of a changeling war blimp. “What?” He asked as the mighty craft exploded and hurtled to the ground, burying the two in its rubble.

…

“Nothing,” Gossip replied with a sigh of her own, motioning them forward she pushed through the burning wreckage.
After a few minutes of negotiating the crumbling streets of downtown the two arrived at a quaint little eatery tucked away in the corner of a small square, its appearance clearly announcing to all of its foreign origins. The storefront, miraculously untouched, awaited their arrival, as did a dull gray and brown unicorn, currently deflecting massive artillery blasts with a bored expression, a few chess boards floating in a lazy circle around his table, the pieces moving at a rapid pace. 
“Took you guys long enough,” Lens Cap said breathily, not even committing enough energy for a full sigh, another artillery round came down in the square, stopping abruptly just above the ground. It hovered there a second before flinging itself right back the way it came. “Please tell me you have something fun planned for today, this is just so… pedantic.”
“Uh oh,” Instant Report groaned, stepping closer to inspect the little pile of components speedily rearranging themselves on the table. “He’s using big pony words, Morning, you know what that means!”
“Well it’s hardly his fault if nothing interesting ever happens around here, you do have a knack for picking the more boring worlds dear,” Morning supplied in return, leaning in closer herself to watch the pieces begin to reassemble into a somewhat familiar shape. “And just what is that you have there?”
Lens Cap glanced down at his little project, having nearly forgotten about the device he was somewhat, nearly, surprised to see it nearing completion. “Ipad, won it in a contest, came in the mail this morning, software really sucked though, and it desperately needed more memory,” the pad finished assembling itself and floated into his grasp, with a quick flick of a hoof it turned on, booting instantly. “So, I made it better,” another energy blast flew into their midst and simply disappeared into thin air.   
“Goodness, he’s playing around with their technology now? This is worse than I thought,” Instant said jokingly, blanching at the deepening stare of the third. “Alright, would it make you feel better if you got to choose the next reality we visit?” 
Lens Cap looked up into the face of his elder, eyes shimmering in the light of the nearby fires. “Can we still get shawarma?” He asked, as colt like as any other child could look at that age. 
Instant placed a hoof on the boy’s shoulder, nodding sagely as he moved to take a seat for himself, Morning doing the same from the other side. “Of course we can,” he said with a smile.
“Good,” Lens Cap said, the cheer just noticeable in his tone. “Because nothing else interesting ever happens around here anymore.”