//------------------------------// // Chapter 5: Carrots... Shacks // Story: I am an Earth Pony Farmer // by joe mother //------------------------------// 7. Maximum Entropy When rednecks are the ones who save your life from death in the middle of an open field, you start to wonder about the cosmic purpose of your life. Also makes you wonder where you went wrong, and what horrific choices got you to this point. I sure was wondering, and I was straight pissed about having to be saved by bearded men with an accent halfway southern and halfway northern. “Jim, whattaya think a that?” the first said, turning to his friend. “I think something’s happened, Joe,” Jim replied, spitting. “Maybe Maurice got somethin’ into our drinks again.” “Nah,” Joe said, cracking a smile, revealing yellowing teeth. “I found his little stash and threw it in the river.” The two men were slightly hunched, with unshaven, messy beards and green eyes that shone with some form of ignorant stupidity. They had red hair and freckles spotted their bodies. They were the embodiment of a stereotype. I guess the only thing missing was a true Southern accent. “You ran over our stuff!” I yelled. Fine Line and Ginger Star seconded my outburst. The rednecks laughed. “They talk!” Jim exclaimed. “That’s somethin’!” I opened my mouth to say something really bad, but the Carrot Top part of my head fought it down. “Look, damn it!” Ginger yelled, pointing a hoof to our now crushed bags, torn to shreds and covered in mud. “You ran over our stuff! All of our food and electronics!” “Oh,” Joe said, taking a look at the wreckage. “Well, we’re all sorry ‘bout that.” “Why’d you just drive at us?” Ginger yelled, stomping on Joe’s foot. He yelped. “What kind of twisted dumbass just drives at living things?!” “We thought y’all was like a turkey or sumthin’,” Jim said, patting Joe on the back. “Thought maybe we’d get us some dinner while we was out.” Ginger screamed with a closed mouth, and stormed at me. “What the hell are we going to do?” she asked, gritting her teeth. “I don’t know,” I replied, backing away slightly. “This is beyond weird.” We both looked over at the two people and saw Fine Line chatting away, getting them to laugh. “Fine Line, what the actual fuck,” Ginger said in disbelief. “Why the hell are you even talking to them.” “Hey,” Joe said. “Your friend here’s pretty funny. I think we can house y’all for a night and drive ya up to town tomorrow.” “Well, hey!” Ginger said, becoming falsely jovial. “That sounds like a great idea! You guys are great. I am just glad that you came across us and almost ran us over.” “You’re welcome,” Jim said, cracking a bigger smile than the one he currently had on. Ginger sighed and looked at me with complete disbelief, “Help.” I shook my head. I honestly believed that getting some shelter, no matter how strange, was better than staying in the open. Joe and Jim opened up their truck and ushered us in. Fine Line jumped inside with a flash, myself following shortly after. Ginger was more hesitant, but she soon caved in, not wishing to be left alone. “Where do you guys live?” Fine Line asked. He stuck his head out the window as the rednecks began to drive. “I’ve always wanted to do this.” “We live out by a small town,” Jim said. “Nothin’ much happens but we got all the time to go huntin’ and such. We sell pelts and other animal commodities.” “Wow, did you really just use the word ‘commodities?’” Ginger snickered. “I’m amazed you even know that word.” “We heard it once or twice before,” Joe countered. “We gotta dictionary back home. We use it when we need it.” Ginger was stunned, and fell back quietly. Fine Line was yelling into the air, his mane whipping around, a smile plastered across his face. I, however, was having an extreme flashback of carrots. Carrot Top, what the hell? I thought, trying to understand why I was having a vision of falling into a vat of wet carrots. There was absolutely no reason why I should be having it. “Hey, Jackson,” Ginger said loudly. I jumped and turned to look at her. “You were clawing at the air and screaming. It was weird. Are you okay? Did the bus crash mess you up or something?” “No,” I said, trying to think of a way to make the whole thing seem more reasonable. “I was having some vision. Something from Carrot Top’s past in Equestria. She was drowning in carrots or something.” “That sounds lame,” Fine Line said. “Like, drowning in carrots? How do you do that?” “I don’t know,” I replied, shaking my head. “I don’t really want to think about it. I just hope I don’t have another flashbac-” And then it happened again. I saw myself shoveling dirt and placing carrots in the ground. I watered everything. I saw crazy things occurring, things like Discord and Nightmare Moon. I didn’t know what exactly was happening, but I felt a lot of anger as I stood over a destroyed garden. “JACKSON!” I snapped out of the trance and looked at Ginger. I was about to hit her. “Oh, whoops,” I said sheepishly. “Whoops?” she replied, getting into my face. “You almost punched me in the face! THE FACE! What the hell was that?!” “Dude, something is messed up with you,” Fine Line said anxiously. “Maybe the merge with Carrot Top wasn’t such a good thing.” “Hey, y’all,” Jim said. “I hate to intrude on yer crazy times, but we’re here.” The truck crawled to a stop, and we climbed out onto the gravel driveway leading up to a small shack covered in guns and vines. An A/C unit committed suicide against the house, sounding like a person trying to drink bleach and talk. “Y’all can stay here tonight,” Joe said, leading us up to the house. “We can drive you into town tomorrow if y’all want.” “Thanks,” Ginger said, kicking at the ground. We were shown to a room where we would sleep and were told to make ourselves at home. It was getting dark, so we just laid down and tried to think about our plans. “What should we do when we’re in town?” Ginger asked. “We don’t have any money, and I seriously doubt these people have the charitable funds for a bus ride to New York. They certainly won’t drive us.” “We may have to go off of our wits,” I replied, shrugging. “Maybe we can get on the bus for free.” “And what if Discord attacks again?” Fine Line mused. “What’ll we do then?” “We don’t have the luxury of long-term planning,” Ginger said. “We have to get to New York as fast as possible.” The sound of rain began to ping into the roof above, and wind seeped through the walls, chilling us. I heard something loud in the distance. Fine Line and Ginger were talking, and I hushed them. “You hear that?” I asked, hearing the others perk up. “I know that sound...” Fine Line whispered. “It’s-” “TORNADO!” Jim came in and yelled at us. “Aw, fuck,” Ginger muttered.