Chap 9: That's Apples Mate
"I'm ti~red!"
"Jeez mister, ah'dve thought you grownups could handle all this here walkin' better'n a few fillies."
"I'm totally fine, what're you talking about. It's just him that's whining."
"Screw you man it's too hot for me."
"Applebloom, be nice to 'im. He ain't even from 'questria. They do things differn'tly where he's from."
"Cain't be that diff'rent."
"Alright, story-time I guess."
The decision had been made. Since a long journey was indeed in the books, supplies were a concern. The first stop was then decreed to be Appleoosa, a trip which could easily have been accomplished via flying carriage, but was instead decided to be done on the ground, as it coincided with a chance for Big Mac and the Applebloom to tag along, taking the chance to make a delivery of a new breed of Apple unique to the Sweet Apple Acres.
Naturally, the little filly was remiss to be without her two friends, and so the three fillies joined the six mares and the three stallions on their journey, with Big Mac happily pulling the cart loaded with the rare produce. Twilight had opted to also bring Spike, so that he could spend the journey inspecting the cargo.
Currently, Twilight and her friends, sans Applejack, were discussing their plans in Appleoosa and the search overall. Rainbow Dash and Pinkie were mentioning gathering the help of the Buffalo tribes, whilst Twilight and Rarity were concerned about supplies. Fluttershy was keeping Spike company as he tediously inspected the apples. Applejack was striding at the head of the group, alongside Big Mac pulling the cart, and the two fuckwits, with the fillies bouncing around them.
Zegram had volunteered to tell tales of their human world, to keep the cutiemark crusaders occupied and out of everypony's manes, as they had been allowed to join the hunt on the premise that they were infact safer on the journey than being left alone in town. It helped that this resulted in the town being safer, also.
It was also helpful in keeping everypony's temper low, as Lemon had spent a good portion of the trip thus far passive-aggressively whining. His core complaint was the heat, which everypony else found to be negligible at best.
It was interesting to note however, that every time anypony attempted to tell him to be quiet, he simply huffed defiantly, save for when Big Mac did, at which point Lemon seemed to chuckle and mutter something, but importantly, stayed quiet for longer.
As Zegram was currently spinning the yarn of why Lemon was such a pantywaist, Applejack was regarding him with some curiosity. He had Scootaloo on his back, leaning on his head, and occasionally batting at his ears, and didn't seem to care as the other two circled him, grilling him with questions and the like. The look on his face was completely at ease. Even Big Mac got slightly antsy when Applebloom would tug at his ears or clamber about on his head, and Big Mac was certainly calm compared to Zegram, from what Applejack had seen.
"See, where we come from, our people built towns really far from eachother, much like Ponyville back there and Appleoosa. But back home, it was like this with every town. And since we're a people that don't like all that walking, or taking a whole day to get somewhere, we did what we do best, and invented stuff. What we finally came up with is called a car, and it's a machine that can go really fast using fire." he said, adopting a slightly smug posture when came the chorus of little 'ooh's and 'aah's.
"Yep. They could get upto 180 miles an hour. This didn't make any sense 'course, since they'd put down laws that only let you go like 35."
Scootaloo took issue with this, tapping on his head to get his attention. "That makes no sense! Why do that?"
"Well, a car is basically a huge metal box. It'd really hurt if you hit someb-uh, somepony with one of those things. Slower you go though, the less it hurts I guess. Ofcourse it doesn't help that the blasted thing might also be on fire. Maybe even liable to explode."
"I still don't get why that would happen though."
"People ride inside them, Scooter."
"Ooohhh"
This time however, it was little Applebloom who had a query.
"Ah still don't get what that's gotta do with Mr. Lemon bein' so tired all the time."
"Well for starters he's lazy." said Zegram.
"Weren't that lazy when he carried y'all back in Canterlot." interjected Applejack, smirking at him.
Zegram chose to let that remark slide, though Applejack noticed him flattening his ears, which gave her a chuckle. He instead continued the exposition.
"Secondly, cars make it so people don't have to walk anymore, and Lemon doesn't drive. It's too scary to drive one of those things."
"Do you?" asked Sweetie
"It's too scary to drive one of those things." he parroted.
"I'd never be scared! Not even of a metal box on...fire" said Scootaloo, with a vigor in her voice that trailed off some when she reminded herself of the fire involved. Naturally the other two fillies got a giggle from that.
As the group arrived in Appleoosa, Applejack headed to the local orchard to fetch her cousin, and she bid Applebloom and Scootaloo both follow her. Big Mac un-hitched himself from the cart and plodded off into the town, with some unspoken purpose. The group began to dissipate even further, as Twilight and spike had to prepare various checklists and draw up plans for the hunt. Rarity trotted off in the same direction as Big Mac, muttering something about needing a hat, calling for Sweetie to follow her. Rainbow Dash and Fluttershy had split off also, Rainbow citing that the two of them needed to rest and freshen up. Why they had to go together was a point of some questions from the two outworlders, all of which were diligently ignored and nervously bypassed, respectively. Pinkie Pie however had simply vanished without any real explanation, and the notion that her behaviour not be questioned was something which Lemon opted to handle with oblivious compliance, and Zegram tackled by being slightly irritated.
This however, left the two of them more or less alone in the town of Appleoosa.
"They're totally doin' it." said Lemon, as the two wandered around the town.
"What?"
"It's like what girls do when they go to the toilet together."
"Are you trying to tell me that you think all the women who go to the bathroom in pairs are lesbians."
"How can you be sure they're not?"
"Well what if they're doing that...preening thing?" said Zegram, shaking his head to clear his mind of thoughts of being kindly molested.
"Is that really any different?"
"YOU KNOW WHAT I DON'T WANT TO HAVE THIS CONVERSATION ANYMORE" barked Zegram, not wanting to be spending this time thinking about shipping. Ofcourse this elicited laughter from Lemon, who then decided it would be funny to try something he'd read, and covertly extended a wing towards Zegram, brushing it down his back. Immediately Zegram stiffened, and stuttered.
"eeeEEEAAAH!" he uttered, as his legs stiffened and Zegram found himself falling over, his tight legs refusing to catch him as his chin thudded on the ground, throwing up some sand and dust, making him sneeze as Lemon struggled to contain his laughter. Zegram took only moments to collect himself, get up, casually dust himself off and calmly hoofed Lemon on the muzzle.
"OW" he said, his laughter ceasing from the sudden pain. "Waddya do that for?" said Lemon, receiving a much lighter bop from orange pegasus.
"STOP BEING AGRESSIVELY STUPID" yelled Zegram. "YEAH WELL THATS NO REASON TO HIT ME" Lemon yelled back. "But I thought you LIKED rough stuff!" said Zegram chuckling as he walked away. Lemon simply sat there with a blush as he watched his friend walking away, only now noticing the sway to his friends plo-
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING!" Yelled the Author as he burst into the room, glaring at the Narrator currently sitting at the computer.
"I uhh, I-Im trying to help?" the Narrator squeeked out.
"By writing..." the Author looked at the screen "Porn?".
"Um... Maybe?" the Narrator squeaked again "I-I just think they look cute together."
The Author sighed "Look I get it okay, but there's enough feels and tension as it is. I am NOT adding a sex tag so let's make that clear right here and now."
We haven't even been to a bar yet. he said under his breath.
"Look lets just get back to the story at hand okay?"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The two pegasi stared at eachother for a moment.
"Di-...did you hear something? I think...something happened?" said Lemon.
"I-I don't...know?" said Zegram, staring into space, something occupying his mind but just out of reach for him.
"W-well uh, lets just keep goi- HEY A SALOON!"
Lemon quickly perked up, and jumped into a canter toward the bar, while Zegram simply rolled his eyes and begrudgingly followed him.
The saloon inside was typical. Rough wood all around, the walls splintering as the light cast it's beams through the dust and what he only assumed to be something along the lines of cigar smoke, though the smell was peculiar. It didn't have that familiar texture to it, and it reminded him of a barn, really. As a thought crossed his mind, he stepped inside.
Is that...some kind of...what in the fuck? Hay Tobacco?
As tolerant as he was of it, the addition of smelling like a barn certainly made it worse. The place was dusty enough that it looked flammable, and the air inside was thick enough without the smoke. It wasn't dead however, as the very typical scattered tables and piano in the corner were all more-or-less occupied. The general clientelle looked gruff, even for cartoon ponies, and the managed to sport the look of various moustaches and degrees of 5 o'clock shadow despite their faces being covered in short fur. It was like they had clippings of their manes or tails on their faces.
The piano in the corner jingled and jangled softly as it's player hoofed at the keys dexterously, and as Zegram made his way between the tables to the bar, Lemon was stood with a handful, or a hoof-full? A hoof-full of bits on the counter and a pair of empty shot-glasses next to him, as he set the third down. He was taking the cider-bottle approach, and managed so far to not swallow a shot-glass and choke.
"Ofcourse you got booze already, ofcourse." said Zegram, exasperated. "Wait how did you even pay for that? Where'd you get bits from?"
"My vest has pockets in it man." said Lemon, starting to slur. He rapped his hoof on the bar lightly, near the small mound of large coins, and the bartender, sporting that ever-so typical handlebar-muttonchops combo, placed yet another shot-glass on the counter, and Lemon softly pushed it aside, to Zegram.
"I don't...see any. And I'm not sure I want to drink that, whatever it is. Looks a bit like whis-OFCOURSE IT'D BE WHISKEY." said Zegram, sniffing at the glass and huffing. When he turned back to Lemon he saw that his friend and begun a slow stumble towards the piano in the corner, obviously to dribble out requests.
You know what. Fuck it. I'm tired. thought Zegram as he shot the drink back, the sudden fire in his throat erupting and causing him to sputter.
Lemon had finally made it to the piano, and it's player was already slightly annoyed. He didn't like drunks a great deal.
"Hhhey. Hey can you-you do Bambous?" he asked.
"Nnope."
"Hah! You're like Big Mac haha..."
"Mhm."
"Can you...can you do uhm- Highway to Hell?"
"Sorry."
"To-Tokyo Dinner?"
"Never heard of it."
"...Smoke on the water?"
"Sure can." said the player, and stopped his current dross and switched to a ragtime adaptation of the song.
Satisfied with his relative success, Lemon turned back to the bar, back to Zegram who had managed to recover and suppress his sputtering, to the mild amusement of the bartender pony, smirking as he went about his job.
"I... Did Pinkie possess you? Is THAT where she went?" asked Zegram.
"I don't see what warrants that assumption." Lemon replied.
"HOW DOES ONE PLAY SMOKE ON THE WATER WITH A PIANO?"
"Like that, apparently."
At this point, Zegram decided to simply head back outside. His throat was sore and his face felt tight, and he wanted some fresh air. It was only a few paces outside that he'd managed a collision, bumping into a pony completely obliviously.
She was a bright red, sporting quite a large pair of wings, the feathers of which were tipped dark brown, like her short mane that looked more like human hair than a mane. What else was a rare oddity that stirred Zegram's perspective back to the metaposition it had originally adopted since coming to this world, was that this pony was pierced. She had a pair of rings, or tags, in her right ear, and they jingled ever so faintly against eachother as her ear twitched. The green of her eyes was slightly jarring, and drew attention away from the spiked collar she was wearing. It was a very unusual look, in Zegram's experience of pony style.
"Augh! Sorry, sorry man, I didn't see you there." she said.
Zegram dusted himself off and began his reply.
"Ah no, its my fault I wasn't looking where I...No."
"What?" said the now confused mare.
"Dingo, No." said Zegram with a flat look.
"W-whos Dingo? My name is Artsy Splotch."
"Come on girl I'm not that stupid."
"I WANNA BE IN THIS!" she cried
"PEOPLE WILL GET MAD"
"SCREW 'EM"
"HOW DID YOU GET HERE ANYWAY"
"I don't...know" she said, with a genuine look of concern on her face. "I'm actually kinda confused. I only knew that you guys were supposed to be here..."
"WELP. Fine, let's go get Lemon." said Zegram
"He's here too?"
"Uh, yeah, ofcourse he is."
"Where?"
Zegram simply pointed a hoof ahead of him, at the saloon.
"Take a wild guess."
Lemon was tending his drink at one of the tables, having managed to get himself invited to a card game. How ponies played cards continued to be a mystery to him, but in his state, the fact that he could pick up cards with with his deceptively malleable pony hooves was that kind of mystery that he didn't care about very much. There was drink and card games, and he adored the cigar-like smell that filled the place.
When he turned to the sound of the saloon doors opening, he looked at the pair who had come in, then back to his drink, then back to them, and belched.
"Hah...how...how wasted am I." he garbled, and turned to his card-game 'pals'.
"How...how many shots have I even had?"
At this point the other ponies at the table simply laughed at him, and one of them poured another shot and passed it too him.
"Not enough yet" said one.
As Lemon shot the last shot back, he threw his cards down. The other ponies did the same, and Lemon managed to walk away with a victory, and a new stack of bits that he placed piecemeal in a near-invisible vest pocket, now bulging slightly.
"You do realize...that there's an imaginary dingo st-stood...next to you right?" he mumbled.
"No no, that really is Dingo. She's just here now. Because reasons." said Zegram.
"Ohh, okay. Sc-scuze me." said Lemon, and made his way past them outside. Upon reaching the outside, he promptly belched again, and fell flat on his face. His struggling seemed to indicate that he hadn't passed out, he had just...lost his balance or something. Though the way he rose steadily to his hooves showed that his balance could not be hard to lose, as it was all over the place.
Some ways down the barren street there was a crowd gathering, and the general susurration grew louder.
And ofcourse that has to be where Big Mac was headed. Wouldn't figure him to be the one to start a commotion but frankly not a single thing has gone as expected this entire trip so sure, why not? thought Zegram, as he went to collect Lemon so that they could go and investigate.
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Careful, you are taking your last steps to the random side. That way lies madness.
3363611 Our picnic baskets have been playing without a full deck of screws for quite some time, my friend.
3365667
I know that. I just want to keep those last screws. They keep the story tight and held together.
Now that I think about it, that's a lot of pressure on those screws. Poor Screws.
3367874 watch as we make them burst
3368045
Well, time to wave goodbye to the story's remaining sanity everyone. Bye-bye little screws and marbles, your loss will likely not be mourned.
3368054 YOU FOOL, WHO DO YOU THINK IS DOING THIS TO THE STORY?
THE SCREWS ARE OUR PUPPETEERS AND THE MARBLES KNOW ALL.
Shits and giggles, huh? Seems legit.
3369366
Now all we need it Arstotzka.
Glory to greatest country.
Glory to Arstotzka.
-salutes-