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// In which things break 
// Story: Prideful Creations 
// by Ash Bark 
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“Ah betcha think that’s gonna work.” said a voice. I glared up at the patronizing old mare sitting on her rocking chair next to me.
“Yeah, I think I know what I’m doing.” I rolled my eyes, using the most sardonic tone I could muster. I did NOT want some silly old apple mare telling me what I was doing was wrong right now. “What would you know about it?” I imagined my words were like whips, cowing the creature before me. All the creature did was look up and smile.
“Ah know that platform aint secure. That there ramp you set up is supported at the base, sure; But soon as you get to the end of it, it’ll slide off those logs you shoved under it.” Granny Apple smiled some more, Her fake teeth shifted slightly in her wrinkled maw. It wasn’t as gross as some of the other old ponies I see around ponyville, not that she wasn’t just as lame. I only looked because I wanted to find something to insult her with. I spent hours making this ramp. It was a beautiful thing. Smooth warped plywood I found draped against some old building in the town formed the perfect slope. A latticework of lumber I hand picked from a pile of firewood just wasting outside of one of the Apple barns. All carefully laid to make sure the whole structure would be supported. And to top it all off, I even sanded down the start so my scooter would flow seamlessly from the path to the ramp. I was proud of it, and Granny Apple was belittling my great achievements.
“What would you know about it?” I fumed, I had her cornered with my elegant debating skills. I was certain of it. Her smile flopped into a disapproving glance. 
“Ah’m an Apple young missy, back in mah hayday Ah would build barns all on mah lonesome!” She leaned forward, her wispy white hair clinging to it’s original placements as they got dragged along for the ride. “And ah built ‘em tah last!” she was no longer looking at me at this point. Instead her gaze was focused on something only the delusional see, ‘memories’ if i’m remembering the right word.
“You see this chair I’m sitting on?” she gestured to the rocking chair currently holding her slanderous rump. “Ah made this chair with mah own two hooves. It’s lasted decades.” I looked at her chair, It wasn’t that impressive, I think. “It was old before you were born!” Granny Apple began to cackle and rock more severely “The short of it is, missy, Ah know my ins and outs of buildin’. And you wanna know what’s wrong with the one you have right there?” She grinned stupidly, the flesh around her eyes crinkling and folding like thin metal. I didn’t want to know what was wrong with my beautiful ramp. In fact the mention of the mere possibility sent me seething
“Nothings wrong with it!” I yelled, “When I go over this, it’ll hold me perfectly, you’ll see you old grandma!” I’ll admit I got a bit heated right there. I’m not going to apologize about it, if that’s what you’re expecting. She was an old grandma after all. It’s in her name!
“You can try it if you like.” She leaned back in her chair, the wood paneling of her porch creaking slightly. Her face was as smug as a naive kitten’s. I was trying real hard to keep my cool.
“Yeah? And what do YOU think is going to happen?” If there’s one thing I pride myself on it’s my iron wit and snappish response when arguing, that and building ramps, and my scooter skills. The mare looked down her snout at my ramp, judging it like the hypocrite she was.
“Ooooh, well, let’s see here.” she began a full on scrutiny of my ramp, nodding her head and muttering the whole time. As if trying to make what she was doing in any way glamorous. “If’n you were goin’ to jump on it from straight up to down, yah wouldn’t have any problem. Unfortunately, you’ll be going up the ramp, meaning, the momentum you have, will carry through into the side of the structure.” she nodded her head with a sense of finality, “it don’t have any support for that. It’ll be like a building designed without earthquakes in mind, it’ll get shaken apart like them buildings do.”
“Who cares about you and your earthquakes!” I kicked off and practically flew up the hill. Once I got a fair distance away I looked back at my glorious ramp. From my perspective it was like the path melded perfectly into wood and gently curved upward into what was the greatest incline for any reason or occasion. I could see the old mare scoot her rickety old rocking chair up so she could see the epicness of what I was about to do better.
I began my descent. The air began to tear at my mane. I propelled myself forward with my wings, the action smooth and practiced. I wanted to go faster, but I restrained myself. It wasn’t like the ramp couldn’t take it or anything, I just thought it be good to make the trial run of my stupendous ramp more sedate like. Enough to get some air, but not so much that I couldn’t appreciate the subtle nuances I invested in my creation.
I was nearly there. Everything started to slow down. Out of the corner of my eye I could see Granny Apple. Her wrinkled eyes wide and expectant as they followed my path to glory. They were trying to make me doubt my fate, make me stray from my destiny. I will NOT let that happen. I hit the ramp. I saw the wheels glide from the path to the wood; not even a bump was felt through my board. The only reason I could tell I wasn’t on the street anymore was the subtle difference in texture. That and I could see it. I was almost there! I was about to hit the apex of the incline, the point where my momentum would send me up and flying, where I would defy gravity and that silly old mare, where I would finally achieve my true purpose! Suddenly I felt a terrible shift through my scooter. A slight nuance that warned me a split second before the impossible happened. The perfectly placed pylon of lumber shifted forward, and lacking the support of their brethren I placed purposely on and underneath them, they collapsed. The shift threw me off balance, I fell backwards, just as my board shot forward, propelled by the force of my speed to achieve a flight that had been so wrongfully taken from me. My back hit the plywood, the shock of it went through my entire body. Only barely proceeding when my head hit it. Thanks to the pile of random logs underneath the ramp, the sheet of wood was able to give, preventing any permanent harm other than a headache. But it didn’t end there. Oh no, the catastrophe brought yet another tragedy. The board I lay upon, dazed as I was, was still on an incline. My weight normally would have been able to keep it still; but underneath this board was a multitude of logs, perfectly suited for the purpose of rollers. They instantly began to send me down the slope on my improvised sled. As soon as the last one passed out from the end of the wood, there was a terrific scraping sound. The scream of wasted potential as my once proud ramp slide across the unforgiving stones in the path. It finally stopped, after a slow decrease in speed. But was my torment over? Far from it, I looked up toward the spot where it all went wrong and there, sat a mare. She was roaring with laughter, Laughter! At my failed dreams. She shook and shuddered with gales of mirth. They tore out from her throat, and shook apart my depression, replacing it with fury. I felt true hatred there. Nothing in my life had ever prepared me for the rage I felt in that moment.
Suddenly the rocking chair she sat upon, rocking and reeling from the force of her cackles, collapsed. Each side of the chair snapped at the legs. Leaving the mare unsuported. The mare fell down with a yelp and a thunderous clattering. Leaving her like a turtle on his back. Surrounded by the ruins of his pride. Burning in the sweet, sweet flames of Irony. I was shocked. You could still barely hear the echoes of her laughter in the distant apple trees. The sound was quickly drowned out by her groan of pain. She slowly sat up, looking at the destroyed chair she still sat in with bewilderment and loss. Rubbing at her wispy head with one hoof.
I had forgotten my anger. It gave way to a tidal wave of laughter that sent me to the ground again. I may have felt a bit bad about it if it wasn’t for the fact that she had laughed at me first, and that I could hear her begin to chuckle again in the background.