//------------------------------//
// Playing Catch 
// Story: Don't Think About It 
// by EpicMuttonChops 
//------------------------------//

It didn't matter what the game was, Snails loved playing with his dad. His dad was the greatest pony he ever knew! Right now, the golden colt was chasing down a ball his dad had thrown that he had failed to catch. "I know it fell somewhere around here."

His father trotted up next to him and helped him search. "You almost caught it that time, sport; you're getting a lot better."

Snails smiled. "Thanks, dad!" He stuck his nose back in the grass to look for the ball.

"Found it, Snails," His father said as he floated the ball over to him. The golden filly smiled wide and grabbed the ball in his own violet magical aura.

Snails carried the ball back to the house where he and his dad had been playing catch. "I still can't catch the ball when you throw it, dad. Maybe I can't catch it because it's going too fast, eh?"

Snails's father scratched his chin. "Maybe," he started, "you just need something more than your magic to catch it."

"Huh?"

His father went into the house and came back a minute later with a wooden bucket. "Here," he said. "Try this." Snails took the bucket from his dad and held it in the air. "Okay, Snails, just watch where the ball's going and put the bucket in its path."

"Okay dad!" He took a firm stance and stuck his tongue out as his dad tossed the ball toward him again. He saw the ball arc and tried to see its path, and moved the bucket to where he thought it might go. The ball bounced off the edge of the bucket and rolled back into the grass. "Aww darn."

"That's okay buddy," his dad chimed in. "Eventually you won't even have to think about it," he said with a supportive smile.

"Not think about it? I can do that," Snails laughed, and his dad joined him in laughter.

"That's my boy," he said, ruffling his son's aquamarine mane.


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Snails spent the next week bouncing the ball off his house and trying to catch it in the bucket. There were times he came really close, times when he caught it, and times when it just bounced away. Nevertheless, he was having fun, and that's what mattered to him.

Trotting down the street that day was a short stocky colt, light blue in color with a brown mane. He sent himself tumbling as he tripped over his own hooves and tumbling straight toward Snails!

The golden colt had just thrown the ball at the house, and the short blue colt fell into him as the ball bounced off the siding. Snails kept his eye on the ball as his body fell on top of the other colt's. He held up his bucket, and the ball fell in. Moments later, as both got back on their hooves, Snails asked the other colt, "Hey there; where you headed, buddy?"

"Sorry," the light blue colt replied in a high-pitched rasp, "sometimes I can't control my hooves when I get excited. I was going to the playground at the school."

Snails's eyes widened. "There's a playground? and a school?"

"Yeah!" the other colt exclaimed. Then, his expression changed to one of confusion. "Wait, how do you not know about the school?"

"I dunno."

"My name's Snips. What's your name?"

"Snails."

Snips laughed so hard he fell over and rolled on the ground. A moment later, he noticed the golden colt still staring at him with a blank expression on his face. He stood back up and asked him, "Is it because you're slow?"

"I dunno," Snails said again. "My dad tells me not to think about it. I'm pretty good at that." He cracked a smile, because that joke usually got a smile out of everypony else when he said it.

"Uh huh..." Snips said, nearly speechless. "Hey, why don't you come with me? There's tons of other colts and fillies to hang out with?"

Snails nodded. "Sure. Dad always wants me to play with other kids." He picked up the bucket and exclaimed, "Hey, I caught the ball!"


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Snips and Snails were almost never seen apart since that day. Mostly what they did was play catch; or, more accurately, Snips would throw the ball at different speeds and angles, both trying to get him to fail and to get him better. It worked; Snails was now able to catch balls in buckets with little to no thought, only reaction.

His father was right. As soon as snails saw the path of the ball, it was really easy to figure out where it was going to go. No thinking required. He had even gotten so good at catching, he tried a few tricks with the buckets.

As he grew up and went through school, ponies saw him utilize his magic in helpful ways, and they sometimes asked him to run errands for them. Simple tasks, really, but he loved helping anypony whenever he could.

That's why Spike had asked him to go fetch some water for Tank, Winona, Opal, and the other pets one summer day, one of his most common tasks. He'd even come up with a little song to sing while he carried it back:

Carryin' my water, my water, my water
Carryin' my water, my water, my water
On my shoulder pole!

Suddenly, a shrill Pinkie Pie scream got his attention. "SNAAAIILS! LOOK OUT!!"

He turned to where he heard her voice and saw three ball flying through the air toward him. He smiled confidently and twirled his shoulder pole, catching all three balls in the water buckets. As he walked over to Pinkie Pie, Rainbow Dash, Applejack, and Fluttershy, he warned them, "You should be more careful with these; you could lose them!"


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And that is how Snails became the unicorn on Ponyville's buckball team. And whenever a teammate gets anxious or stressed about the competition, all he needs to say is, "Don't think about it."