• Published 3rd Apr 2014
  • 8,717 Views, 974 Comments

The Rock Farmer's Daughters - Sketcha-Holic



In an AU where Pinkie barely misses the Rainboom, neither she nor Cheese Sandwich are party ponies. However, Cheese ends up working at the Pie family rock farm.

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Prologue

Author's Note:

Hooray, it's my first FIM fic! 8D

Now, if you've seen this story on FanFiction and are waiting to call foul, no worries, I'm CrazyNutBob, both there and on DeviantArt. I just felt an urge to broaden my horizons and well... here I am. Dunno if I'll write other FIM fics, but... eh.

So, just doing a weird take on a ship that I ship really hard, even though I usually shy away from shipping. It's the one and only CheesePie (essentially stripping the 'party' from those ponies; BLASPHEMY)!

Now, let's get down to business...

The skies were cloudy as they always were, unwilling to let even a sliver of sunlight through. The land was barren, and there were only rocks of every size scattered atop the soil. Trees completely stripped of leaves stood in a few spaces, providing more gloom for the landscape. Other trees made up a forest nearby, and though they were a sign of life, they still didn't brighten up the place.

Among the rocks sat a farmhouse, with a windmill beside it and a silo several yards away. A simple fence surrounded the structures, which a family of Earth ponies called 'home.'

A little pink filly had pushed the last of her rocks into a pile and glanced around, searching for even a smidgen of color in the dreary landscape. When she saw that there was none, she sighed, and turned toward the house, her neck aching from her constant slouch that day.

She had just barely come into the house when she heard the voice of a mare speak her name.

"Pinkamena?"

The little filly looked up, gazing at her mother with her big, blue eyes. Next thing she knew, she was balancing a bowl of stone soup on her head, while her mother pointed up the stairs. Not much needed to be said on why she was doing this, and so she followed the silent directions, briefly glancing at her father and two of her sisters in the process.

Pinkamena shakily climbed the stairs, praying that she wouldn't drop the soup. Not only would it land her in trouble, but she wouldn't be able to shake the guilt of wasting the meal that was meant for her sick older sister. She took deep breaths as she ascended each step, with the phrase "so far, so good" repeating in her head.

That's when a sudden boom thundered in the air and shook the house. Pinkamena could hear the sisters below her shriek, and her father shouted something drowned out by the noise. She ended up dropping the bowl, though it miraculously landed right side up on one of the steps with only a minor spill. Her eyes were wide and her knees were shaking as she looked at the bowl and pondered the source of the boom. She was tempted to run to the window and look outside to see what had caused all the fuss.

However, she had a job to do, and she was going to finish it. Her big sister was waiting! So, she got the bowl onto her head once again, and continued her ascent, wishing her straight hair could grip it in order to keep it from falling.

She made it to the top of the stairs, and made her way to the room she shared with her sisters. She bumped open the door, and walked in just as she heard a rasping cough.

The cough came from a gray-coated, purple maned filly in one of the beds. She covered her mouth with her hoof as she coughed, and shudders went through her body. Once she finished her cough, she wiped her mouth, and looked out the window with an emotionless stare.

"Maud?" Pinkamena asked. "Are you okay?"

Maud continued to stare out the window, showing no sign having heard her. Pinkamena walked forward, still balancing the soup on her head as she approached. She had arrived at Maud's beside when the sick filly finally replied.

"I'll be fine," Maud said. She slowly turned to Pinkamena, who carefully slid the bowl off her head and onto Maud's lap. The older sister blinked, her half-lidded eyes on the soup that had been delivered. She murmured a word of thanks before leaning forward and taking a sip.

Pinkamena glanced out the window, and was surprised upon seeing no trace of the clouds that had covered the sky before. Instead there was a vast expanse of light blue above the landscape. Her mind went back to the boom a minute before, and asked, "Maud, did you see what made that big booming noise?"

Maud was still sipping her soup when Pinkamena asked this, and it took a few moments before she rose from the bowl, glanced outside, and answered, "It was a colorful shockwave in the sky."

Pinkamena raised an eyebrow and tilted her head at that answer. Maud ignored the look and added, "It cleared the sky… and made a rainbow."

Pinkamena still held that look, not knowing what to make of Maud's answer. She was a little disappointed that she missed seeing something so unusual, but considering it made the house shake, who knows what it would have done to her had she stayed outside. Still, she couldn't help but sigh. Seeing a rainbow would have been nice.

She watched as Maud took another sip of the soup.


Sometime after said boom, a lonely spirit left home.

The little orange colt plodded along the dirt road, his head hung as low as his spirits were. Though it was a bright and sunny day, he could feel clouds hanging over him. And despite the near silence of the field that the path cut through, he could hear voices in his head, calling him by every name that had been slapped onto him without a second thought. Every name, except his own.

"Four-eyes", referring to the glasses he wore.

"Curly", referring to the brown curls of his mane.

"Blank flank", referring to his lack of a cutie mark.

"Squeaker", referring to the squeaks that came out when he tried to speak.

"Dork", because that much was true, as was "Wimp", "Spineless", and many others.

Of course, part of the reason why he had many nicknames bestowed upon him was that nopony knew his name. He'd always be tongue-tied when introduced to someone new, especially if it was a filly. Failing to get his name out the first time would result in repeated interruptions when he nervously tried correcting those who called him names. Those always descended into a mini riot where he was the prime target, leading to him hiding from everypony the rest of the day.

He shook his head, trying to shake those memories. He left that life behind; he swore he was never going back. He sighed, and repeated his name to himself.

"My name is Cheese Sandwich," he muttered. "Cheese Sandwich… Cheese Sandwich… Cheese Sandwich…"

His stomach began to growl. His own name being that of a kind of food was a hefty reminder that he had hardly anything to eat, his rations already reduced to nearly nothing. With a grimace, he looked up and scanned the area with his green eyes. He spotted a town not too far away, and where there's a town, there's food.

He took a deep breath. If he wanted to be fed, he'd have to talk to somepony. Did he have bits to pay for anything? What if these ponies didn't take kindly to strange colts asking for food?

His stomach rumbled again, and he exhaled. He broke into a trot for the town, figuring that talking to somepony was better than starving to death.


Cheese Sandwich curled up under the canopy of a tree, weary from the day he had. He was successful in finding food; however, he got in trouble with some apple farmers, could not form words to order something in every dining place he visited, and got himself kicked out of one place for reasons he did not know. He counted himself lucky to have even found food at all, considering what bits he had found had been spent on a simple, pink-frosted cupcake.

He began to wonder if running away from home was a good idea. He was filled with doubt about his ability to survive on his own, and pondered going back. Even if he had no friends, he at least had food and shelter. Of course, he reminded himself that he was not going back.

He yawned, and took off his glasses, placing them in the case he had packed in his sack. As he did so, he began to think up ways to try to get by. Resorting to stealing was certainly not an option; his heart was far too soft for that. Become a wild pony in that nearby jungle? Maybe not; from what he heard, the residents of this town were terrified of that place. There was no way he'd survive in there.

Start working a job or something? That was certainly something to consider.

He'd need to find the courage to ask somepony to hire a colt.

That was a thought he'd have to ponder the next morning.