//------------------------------// // Bartender! // Story: The Ballad of Big // by Broseph_Stalin //------------------------------// The Ballad of Big ~By Sabre Chapter One - Bartender! >>---- (ɃɃ)----> It’s that brilliant time ah the evening that Ah love so much. The dust has finally settled, the blazing sun is just a whisper behind the buttes, and the scorched land is finally cooling off. Now all this darn cowpoke gear isn’t so hot and itchy. It’s been a long day. Ah was feelin' a gnaw in my belly for some cider, so Ah decided to try my luck at the nearest watering hole here in Buck City. That’s what this podunk little town is called, right? My name’s Applejack, in case ya’ll weren’t sure, and I’m from Ponyville. What, you’ve never heard of it before? It’s just south of Canterlot. Anyhow, you’re probably askin’ yourself: what are you doin’ so far west from Ponyville, Applejack? Well I’ll tell ya, just be patient. Lemme pay the barkeep for mah cider real quick. Whaddaya’ mean seven bits for a lousy glass of cider!? What is it, gold cured? Ah whatever, just gimme a glass. Dang swindlers around these parts, Ah swear… Ahh. Much better. Anyhow, where were we? Ah, yes that’s right. Well, my family owns the largest apple acre settlement on the east side of Equestria. I just happen to be the head pony at Sweet Apple Acres in Ponyville. Well anyhow, ya see, with the integration of Sweet Apple Acres and Honey Crisp Ranch in Neighsville, there wasn’t really much for me to do around the farm, since all mah cousins and the like were takin’ care of all the trees for me. So, I decided to take some time for mahself, and head west to try my hoof at cattle herdin’, even if I’m not that good at it yet... What? No, I’m not blushing, okay? This cider’s just strong, ‘sall. >>---- (ɃɃ)----> With a deafening crash, every cowpoke, wrangler, scoundrel and busybody that breathed, smoked and spat in the saloon looked towards the doorway. In the twilight glimmer, they caught sight of a tall, imposing form as he shuffled his way inside. Every eye shifted off the stallion suddenly, though, except for the emerald eyes of a certain orange pony who looked somewhat silly dressed in so much trail gear. With the jangle of spurs, the form sauntered inside as if he had built it from the very foundation of the dirt. The lively conversation of the busy saloon picked up again, but seemed almost forced as the newly arrived stallion wandered around each pony on his way to the bar. Stopping at a table, he glanced over at a sharply-dressed pony’s cards, and hemmed and hawed at the hand the startled pegasus was currently playing with. “No, no, no,” he mumbled through the haze of the saloon’s acrid atmosphere, “you needa seven to win this hand.” He broke into a deep laugh as his long blonde mane shook beneath his low-brimmed cowboy hat. “You dumb colt.” The rude stallion smacked the cards out of his hooves and stepped up to another table, leaving the aforementioned pony with a giant grimace on his face. “Gents! How'sabout loaning your good pal Jim a cigar here!” Without waiting for any of the three gentlecolts' replies, the stallion whisked away a fat brown cigar from the table. Lighting it deftly, he puffed on it hard, and blew a giant breath of bitter smoke on the nearest pony’s face. “Say, how about three more?” he added, and once again, swiped the rest of the neatly wrapped smokes that were lying in the middle of the table. Tucking them in a coat pocket, he walked away with another chuckle to himself. The three ponies he had harassed merely sat in silence and sipped awkwardly on their drinks. Moseying up to the bar, he parked his rump on a velvet barstool and demanded two pints of hard cider. A brilliant golden lasso whipped around on his flank, covered halfway by his long, dusty blazer. “And they had better be on the house, if ya know what I mean, Doc,” he whispered viciously. “Yessir, of course,” the mustachioed bartender said as almost literal bullets of sweat seemed to fly off his face. Turning back around, he hastily prepared the stallion’s drink order. The self-assured pony smashed his halfway done cigar coarsely into the wood of the bar, being sure to grind it as deep as the smoldering tip would go. He shot a glance at Applejack, clucked his tongue, and whistled softly. “Mm, whatsa fine-lookin’ gal like you doin’ out here in this ol’ town, eh, sweetheart?” the bully cooed to his new bar mate. Applejack merely groaned loudly, and set herself back to talking to the rancher she had met a few minutes earlier. When the cocky stallion didn’t get quite the response he usually got from some pretty face wandering through town, he got angry. Really angry. “Hey! Babycakes! I’m talkin’ to you— humph!” The stallion jerk was cut off as Applejack planted a nice, heavy hoof straight to his gut. Blinking back tears, he gasped out a few select swear words to her. “Why don'tcha go bully somepony else, mister,” Applejack said coolly, and turned back round to talk shop with the rancher pony she had just met. The cream colored unicorn’s face, however, was caught in panicked shock at what Applejack had just done to Big Jim Cooley, of all ponies! But Big wouldn’t have any of that. Staggering off his barstool, he shouted at Applejack with all the confidence his giant frame could muster. “Hey! Do you even know who I am!?” Big shouted at his assailant. Much to his infuriated irritation, she looked him over with a casual glance. “Not anypony Ah would want to meet, that’s fer darn sure,” she drawled lazily, and turned back once again to the stunned pony she was talking to. She gasped, though, as her frame was whipped around under a forceful hoof upon her shoulder. She whirled around to face the furious amber eyes of a very angry stallion. “Now, you listen here, little lady, and you listen good. Mah name’s Big Jim Cooley, and I am. The. Best. Wrangler on these here plains. You got that?” he aggrieved upon Applejack with a hiss of furious, acrid breath. The mare's eyes shot wide in surprise as she realized this bully meant serious business. And with a heft almost twice the size of Big Mac, she wished with a pang of homesickness that her brother were actually here to help her out of this tight spot. Things were looking grim at the moment as the angry stallion held her down with an insanely powerful hoof. The cream-colored unicorn that Applejack had been talking with not ten seconds ago spoke up, though, in a wavering voice. “P-Prove it, Big!” he gasped out behind his thin moustache. The angered stallion merely broke his intense gaze of pure animosity from Applejack’s eyes and settled it right on the unicorn’s own lavender ones. Applejack sensed this pony would never turn down a challenge like that. Lifting the dead weight of his meaty hoof off of Applejack’s shoulder, he advanced upon the momentarily-brave unicorn rancher. “Yeah? So tell me how, then, Horace,” the gruff stallion barked to the cowering livestock farmer. The unicorn coughed slightly at the stallion’s smoky breath and glanced around the room. “I’ve got a herd of a hundred heads I need taken over the plains at Jacheo. But, I doubt you could handle it in the slightest.” The unicorn threw on a scornful little laugh at the end of his challenge to irk on Big more. “I ain’t dumb, Horace. Those planes are ripe with madmen, thieves, savages and the driest damn dirt I’ve ever seen. Not happening in this lifetime.” He turned back on Applejack as his anger refueled and sparked into another frenzy. “Oh really?” the unicorn scoffed, raising an eyebrow. “What are ya- yellow?” The ruse worked, and the irritant stallion took the bait right off. He spun around, shouting at the cowering cream-colored unicorn. "Nopony calls Big Jim Cooley yellow!" he screamed, eyes bugging out as they scanned their immediate surroundings for anypony that could have heard Horace say that. If anypony had heard, though, they certainly wouldn't have acknowledged this damnable tidbit of info, though there was little doubt it would be whispered in the gossip of the mares all around town. "If I'm takin' this contract, I want two-hundred bits a head! No less!" he cried out, jabbing Horace with a gigantic hoof. A greedy light flashed away behind his smoldering eyes. "Okay, okay!" the terrified rancher called out. "Two-hundred a head it is!" The beefy stallion took a step back, smirking in a self-assured victory. “That’s what I like to hear! Me an’ my posse’ll get those cattle taken over those damned plains if it’s the last thing I do then, Horace!” he cried out gleefully, and looked around to make sure everypony had heard of the deal Ol' Big Jim Cooley had struck with the town's biggest name in cattle farming. Applejack could almost see the earth pony’s covetous mind counting out his bits in his head as he took a step back from her. Big noticed her curious stare though, and the greedy light was replaced with a dark flash. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten about you, buttercup. We’ll be seeing each other again, real soon.” With a depreciative laugh, he flicked his tail in Applejack’s face and stormed out of the saloon, leaving with a heavy crash the same way he had entered. With his exit, an almost physical sigh was emitted by all the patrons, and the bustle returned to normal. Turning back around, Applejack sat herself down at the bar rather shakily. What had just happened had unnerved her far more than she would have liked to admit. “Here,” came a gentle voice from in front of her. Looking up, Applejack saw the bartender as he pushed two tall mugs of apple cider towards her on a napkin. “He never got his drinks, so I guess these are on the house.” He flashed a smile at her, and went to work away at the nasty mess Big had burned into the counter nearby. Taking a mug into her hoof, she drank sloppily as her body shook uncontrollably. The unicorn rancher, Horace, merely set a hoof reassuringly on her shoulder, and smiled. “Applejack, don’t worry about Big, okay? His bark is worse than his bite. Being Buck City’s premier wrangler has left him as, well…” He paused as he tried to think. “An asshole?” Applejack cut in as she set down her glass, now empty. “Erm, well, yes, I suppose so," he replied, slightly taken aback at Applejack's straightforwardness. "You saw the way he crashed in here and acted like everypony was below him. Now, he’s earned some considerable respect with all the things he’s done around here, but he’s definitely abused all the respect he’s been granted, and squeezed the life out of it to bleed the last drop of power he can.” The unicorn shook his head. “I still can’t believe he accepted that contract I offered.” “Why? From what you offered, that's powerful good money. I might just take you up on that offer myself.” Applejack said. Two-hundred-thousand bits sounded good to anypony who was putting down twenty-some hours a day in as a wrangler. The thought dissipated, though, as she spotted her second drink voraciously. She grabbed the other pint of hard cider and gulped it down. A familiar warm tingling was spreading over her body now. Ahh… Much better. “You are new here, aren’t you,” Horace stated plainly, his eyes narrowing as he looked onto his inexperienced friend. “Well, Jacheo plains are perhaps the most desolate waste of land you will ever come across out here in the west. It’s got a bad reputation for being the driest, most dangerous place in all of the West Stallione Desert. Only problem is,” he said with a sigh, “it’s the fastest way to get to Las Pegasus and get the cattle headed up to be shipped around the country. Otherwise, you have to take the gauntlet up the Pownee River, around the Carson Buttes, and then up through Chill Pass. It’s a heckuva trek and takes nearly a week and a half to do.” Horace sighed. “But, it’s better than risking your neck across savage-infested lands where there isn’t a drop of water for miles at a time.” Applejack placed her second completed glass of cider on the counter with a rough clatter, and ordered two more. “Sounds like a fool’s errand to me,” she hiccupped slightly, and smiled as her two new drinks were placed with a clink in front of her. >>---- (ɃɃ) ----> The moon now hung high overhead in the clear night sky. Stars twinkled and shone down from the blanket of darkness, and watched as an orange earth pony stumbled, blissfully drunk, out of the Dodging Dog. Hiccupping slightly to herself, Applejack tried to remember through a groggy mist where the hotel room she had been renting was at. An invisible hand pushed her north down the main street, and she ambled down parallel to the glowing lights of the wrought-iron lamps with a delightful grin on her face. Coming up to the hotel, she stumbled slightly as she trotted up to the wide alley between the hotel and the tack shop next door. The obscure guide stopped her at the vestiges of the dark alley’s shadow, and she glanced down it, mind clearing and eyes sharpening, hawk-like, as she sensed imminent danger. A gigantic form crept from out of the shadows, flanked by four other ponies of a similar malicious intent. The front-most figure grinned, his amber eyes pinpricks of light in the dark as they held a cold and intense spirit. “Well, hello, there, miss fire n’ ice,” Big Jim commented darkly as he advanced forward on Applejack’s form. “Fancy seeing you again.” He chuckled to himself quietly as the other ponies followed his lead. Terror grabbed Applejack’s now razor-sharp consciousness and shook it bodily.