//------------------------------// // Minty speaks o' the Green // Story: My little Short Stories 2- Paradise Edition // by Paradise Oasis //------------------------------// Minty speaks o' the Green So hello there, name Minty! No, not that Minty, she lived a really long time ago. I am Minty of Dream Valley, although I originally immigrated from the isle of Pony. I'm a green mare with a shamrock cutie mark, and my mane is the loveliest shade of white. What? you don't think I'm from the isle of Pony? And why not? Oh, I don't sound like a mare from the isle of Pony, I don't have a a really thick accent like Chief (only a minor one, mind ye), and I don't go around talking about leprechauns and luck and wearing bagpipes and kilts all the time. Well, there is only one thing I can say to all of that; ARE YE DAFT?! Look, I know the stereotypical view of our homeland is what ye mainlanders think we are like- and yes, those things are a part of our culture- but we don't go around the house blowin' on bagpipes all day. I don't even know how to play those things anyway, any more than every hoofkaido pony knows karate, or every Misty Mountain pony can bake pretzels. It's things the isle of Pony are known for, not things that makes us all proud Innis Poni. Listen, I don't mean to sound rude here- but not all Stallions from the island are named O' Shamus or O' Brian, very few of us are either drunk or always trying to start a fight. We don't always dress in green, and we don't go around drinking green cider all of the time. I can't believe how many times I got asked about those things when I first moved here from home. Imagine my shock when I saw the pictures and artwork of green hats and silly outfits with four leaf clovers. I was really sad to discover this is what the rest of Ponyland thought we were like. Look, I know that ye all don't think these things ta be insultin' or mean, but ye need ta realize we aren't a group of caricatures- mind you, Chief in his extreme pride for the homeland does come close- we're just like any other nation a' ponies in the confederacy. Most for most islanders, shamrock day is a deeply spiritual day of refection and prayers. I have no idea how it became a day of feastin' and revelry in the rest of Ponyland, but can you believe how odd it is when mainlander tourists show up on your back doorstep, wanting ta throw a party on yer quiet day o' rest? Hey, do not let me spoil your fun or anything; I don't want to tell ye not ta have a good time fer yer Shamrock day. But please, do not be coming to the island, and expecting us all ta be some walking cliches there for yer amusement. We're a real heard of ponies, with a real history and culture. Most of our pubs are closed on this holiday, and most islanders will be found at home on this holiday. If ye do run into one of our herd on this day, please don't ask him why he or she isn't wearin' the green. An' no we do not have leprechauns runnin' around the highlands, I actually met me first o' the little buggers when I came to the mainland! And yes, we do have unicorns runnin' around everywhere, and sea serpent a' swimming through the lochs- but name one place in Ponyland that doesn't have those?! Ah, what's that now? Now wait just one minute there! No, we don't all wear green or mess around with shamrocks or luck, but those happen ta be my personal specialties! Ever since I was a little filly, I have been fascinated with the effect of luck on a ponies life. I started collectin' lucky horseshoes and rabbit's feet and the like. As a lass, I was a tellin' my fellow schoolfillies how ta improve their luck in games an' sports, and identifying which horseshoes were lucky and which ones were not. I later discovered my special talent involved using me earth pony magical to sense how probability and chance affects a pony's life- similar, in many ways, to the mysterious 'pinkie sense' written about by the great sages. If a pony's luck is down, I can often tell them or show them ways to improve it. Now, as I was sayin before, don't assume because I'm a lucky pony, that all ponies from the island are green and obsessed with shamrocks. That's just a personal thing that I do, and I don't think me fellow islanders would much appreciate strangers askin then ta help with their luck. I wouldn't want to be going and talkin to any of our stallions about finding a pot of gold at the end of a rainbow- or ye might end up on the wrong end o' that famous temper we islanders are known for. I will say in this case that if ye do make us mad... eh, the sterotype's not too far off from what ye'll shall get! Och, now I believe we've spent enough time a' lollygagging about. If you'll excuse me, I lost a bet to Wind Whistler, and now I have to go put on a stereotypical green dress with patterns on it, mix up a few hundred tankers of green apple cider, and serve all of the stallions for the big Shamrock day party they be holding down in their private tavern beneath the castle. Ugh, I hope they can keep their hooves to themselves this time, and they don't make me sing 'Danny Colt" again. At least my fellow countrymen Chief will punch em' out if they try! *Sigh* I tell ye, girls... there are some days I wish I'd just stayed on the boat, and gone back ta Killarney.... Minty O' Green Dream Valley mare of luck