"Well?"
"Well what?"
"Aren't you going to ask about the door?"
"Why?"
"Ugh," Lyra groaned in annoyance. "I was kind of hoping it would become a running joke today."
"Uuhh, Sorry?"
"No-no," Lyra apologized. "I tried to milk it too far."
She promptly grabbed her curtain rod and more duct tape to brace it better.
"So, should I just start talking or wait until you're done?" the brown stallion asked.
"I'm listening, Time Turner," Lyra said as she patted the strips flat.
"Oh, yes, well, that's good," the he replied somewhat reluctantly. He preferred a proper sitdown talk, but like so many of the ponies in this crazy town, Lyra could be unpredictable. Moreso than a normal mare anyway. "Well, as you know, Jessi and James, who've have been staying with me and my herd for the past few months since the 'incident', are going to be leaving soon. And, well, the family's a little anxious about things."
"Well," Lyra said as she managed to pull the door shut with a grunt, "Golden Harvest didn't want to let James out of her sight after what he did to her carrot patch. She probably harbors quite a bit of resentment, after all, that was her pride and joy. And she probably thinks he's going to light his own world on fire or something."
"Yes," Turner said with a grimace. "Derpy and I are still amazed she didn't burry the poor boy in the remains of her garden on the first day. Though, that may have been because of that soft spot she has for Jessi."
"That little carnivore could melt anypony's heart," Lyra chuckled. "Speaking of which, you have been keeping up her protein intake right?"
The stallion nodded vigorously. "Yep. We've ensured she gets the appropriate amount of meat the doctors instructed us to give her. The way she tucks it away, though, I'm surprised she doesn't resemble a beach ball." A guilty look then passed over his face. "Though, between you and me, recently I've been forced to peruse the petfood section due to the game animals apparently being scared away. And the Apples' pigs aren't quite ready for... the, er, butcher house yet."
"The animals running away would probably be Phillip's fault. And the petfood should be fine, as long as you get the chunky all-meat stuff," Lyra said, giving him a critical glare.
"Of course, of course," Turner said with a nervous grin. "If I didn't, my two wonderful mares would notice."
Lyra's expression changed again to one of surprise. "You didn't tell them? Do you realize how stupid that is? How did they not find out?"
"Well," he said, rubbing his mane as he looked at the floor. "I kind of explained that I found a different supplier, one where we wouldn't have to cut the meat ourselves, and they just smiled and each gave me a kiss."
Lyra suddenly smirked and put a hoof to her lips. "Uh, Turner? I think by now they may already know. They're probably playing you."
The poor stallion shoulder's slumped with a groan. "I suspect as much too. They'll keep playing along for a while and then let it all crash down atop of me, then treat me like a colt whose been caught with his muzzle in the cookie jar. Sometimes I think they're right."
Still smiling, Lyra felt a pang of pity for the stallion. He was letting his pride as his family's provider get away from him, and was ashamed all because he was forced to purchase what was labeled petfood for a houseguest. Harvest and Derpy loved the odd prank and ribbing, but toying with a stallion's pride like a slow boiling egg was going a little far. Not to mention it was as cliché a trope as you might come across in a cheap novel.
Lyra passionately hated those kinds of clichés.
Stepping over, she patted his shoulder kindly. "Now-now, Turner. Don't be like that. Your mares are just being a little inconsiderate. They don't mean to make you feel inadequate. Heck, if they knew how you felt, rest assured they'd apologize to you in the best way possible."
Turner sighed, though he was blushing a little. "I know, but, I would rather not have my stallion pride trod upon. Boiled like a potato set to be mashed."
"Nnnooot quite the metaphor I would have used, but that's exact context I was hoping for nonetheless," Lyra said with a devious grin on her face. "Now, instead of helping you be the mediator between a angry mare and a disgruntled teenage human, how about I help you create a counter offensive that'll knock those two mares back on their plots and get you wonderfully rewarded for it in the process?"
The stallion's eyes went wide and he stared at the mint mare for a long time before finding his voice again. "Y-you'd do that?"
Lyra was a little offended. "What? Just because I'm a mare doesn't mean I'm going to side with them every time. Plus, I owe that mailmare for a certain rattlesnake letter prank(1)."
Time Turner's face twisted into a smile that almost trumped Lyra's. "Well, then. Tell me, what must I do?"
And so, behind the patched up door, two ponies schemed.
(1) It's where you take a paperclip and bend it into an arch with hook on either end to loop a rubber band around, then place another paperclip through the rubber band and wind it up. Then seal it in an envelope and leave it in a mailbox.