The Courtship of Clementine by The Fillyfooler, Pretzel Poem

by Robo00

The Mild, Mild West.

The Courtship of Clementine by the Fillyfooler, Pretzel Poem

by

Robo00

Chapter 1:

The Mild, Mild West

The (rather long) train ride from Canterlot to Sweetwater has been rather uneventful. It has given me a chance
to reread some of my favorite novels. The Tragedy of Elm Tree and Gold Leaf, Love in the marshes, The
Young Mare's guide to Romance. Despite my love of (trashy, I'd admit) romance novels, I myself has never
fallen in love or had the need to. Yes, just me and my books.

"SWEETWATER! NEXT STOP, SWEETWATER!" yelled the rather loud unicorn porter. I shook myself from my
reverie, adjusted my eyeglasses, and proceeded to gather my luggage (no easy feat for an Earth Pony). A
warm breeze and the stench of pig manure greeted me as I stepped of the train.

"Lo, ponies of Sweetwater! I, Pretzel Poem bring you knowledge, the arts,...SOAP!"

The townsponies just went about their daily routine, ignoring the screaming (but intelligent) loony before them.
I decided to announce myself again. "It's me the new teacher. You know, knowledge, arts, soap."

No answer.

"I'M THE NEW SCHOOLMARM, YOU GAP-TOOTHED, FOUL SMELLING HICKS!"

"Yeah, we heard ya th' first time." called out a voice behind me. I spun around and seen the most mangiest being that
ever held to moniker of "pony". An Earth Pony with a rust colored coat and the dirtiest, dirty blonde mane and tail I'd
ever did see, and his teeth. Dear Celestia, his teeth. They were all wooden and they were still rotten. His fashion
sense almost out did his teeth with a moth eaten hat and vest.

"Um, hello...my dear...Er..."

"Th' folks 'round here call me Woody.", and with that "Woody" spat some unidentified substance into a spittoon. I
stared at this pony for a good thirty seconds with my emotions wavering between disgust and absolute disgust. "So,
whatja want?"

"My good...stallion. I am Pretzel Poem and I'm here to apply for the job of school teacher." He eyed me with some
suspicion.

"Yer th' new...PTEW...schoolmarm? I'd better bring you to the sheriff." I walked downwind of him as he took me to
the sheriff.

"So, Woody was it," I said, trying to hold my breath, "Are you the deputy?"

"Yep! I'm on my sixth sheriff."

"Sixth?" Here comes that sinking feeling. I heard the lives of lawman were fleeting in these western towns but I never
believed them to be true.

"Th' Bloodhoof Gang. The most violent outlaws this side of th' west."

We stood in front of the sheriff's office. My scruffy, vile smelling companion proceeded to call the sheriff.

"HEY SHERIFF GOSSAMER! TH' NEW SCHOOLMARM IS HERE!" And he had the nerve to complain about my entrance.

The double doors swung open and out stepped Sheriff Gossamer, the biggest fop ever to wear a badge. Seeing him
stand next to Woody and you could see they were different as night and day. Thankfully, the sheriff HAS heard of
good hygiene with his neatly coiffed golden blond mane and dazzling white coat. Yes, Sheriff Gossamer looked
more like a Canterlot noble than a rough and tumble lawman.

"So, you're the new schoolmare." The unicorn gave me the visual once over. "Welcome to Sweetwater, Miss..."

"Pretzel Poem." The (somewhat annoying) sheriff tip his hat to me. Well, chivalry sure isn't dead around him.
But something about him grated on me. Was it his foppish attitude or the somewhat condescending look he gave me.

"I never seen an Earth Pony teacher before."

"Well, I never seen an unicorn sheriff before." I countered, wanting to put this idiot in his place.

"Touché." said the smarmy bastard as he shook my hoof. "Let me show you around." Oh, will the Great and
Powerful Gossamer take poor little me under his wing. My bile for this pony was overflowing to capacity. So we
went on our little tour through town with our first stop being the...ugh...undertaker. The outside of the funeral
parlor was decorated in Early Demonic with a large bull's skull above the. I didn't even want to think how he got it
as we stepped inside.

"Oh, Mr Pale Horse! I want to introduce you to the schoolmare." Out from the back room, Pale Horse emerged and
I never seen a more frightening individual. Like Gossamer, Pale Horse was a unicorn with a white coat and that's where
the similarities end. His cheeks were sunken in, like a skeleton's with a black jacket draped over his tall and gaunt
frame. A similarly colored top hat rested above his horn But that wasn't the most scary thing about him, it was his constant
smiling that chilled my blood. He walked towards us with a tape measure hovering near his head.

"So...ehehheheh...you are the new giver of knowledge to the empty vessels of the town, am I right...heh heh heh." He then
proceeded to measure an oblivious Gossamer. "In good health, sheriff? No serious illnesses or gravely infected wounds?"

Gossamer just threw his head back and laughed. "Oh, Pale Horse! You crack me up!" I took the time to look around the
room. Row after row of empty coffins were before me. Well, mostly empty. In the corner, four legs belonging to a late
pony in the onset of rigor mortis stuck out of a large coffin.

"Back to you, madam. Do you have a name?"

"I'm Pretzel Poem and I came from Canterlot."

"Hmmm. I see. Canterlot. Fascinating."

"Oh , yes. See, I came a somewhat large family and...ARE YOU MEASURING ME FOR A COFFIN?!"

"You can never be too careful, Madam. You can go anytime. The good always die young. Heh heh heh."

The color left me until I was almost as pale as my two "companions". I wanted to run screaming and catch the next
train back to Canterlot, away from this madhouse they called a town.

"You look a little peaked, Miss Poem. Why don't we stop at the saloon for refreshments." said Gossamer, with that
idiotic grin still plastered on his face. We left out of the double doors with Pale Horse calling back to us.

"Come again. Heh heh heh heh heh."

Now I officially want to vomit. I only met three ponies in this forsaken hellhole they called a town and already I
loathed this place. Woody bolted ahead of us at breakneck speed towards the saloon. "Figures, he's an
alcoholic." I muttered to myself.

"And we're here. Behold the Prancing Pussycat Saloon!"

It was a pleasant enough establishment. Not particularly clean but not particularly filthy either. The clientele on
the other hand...

"Y'all occupyin' the space perpendicular to me!"

"I can be perpendicular all I want."

"Dems fightin' words!" And with that the two stallion discussed things in an intelligent and nonviolent manner. But
instead they proceeded to beat the hell out of each other with chairs. My eyes rolled into the back of my head so
hard, I became intimate with my own brain. Of course, all this testosterone flavored ballet went unnoticed by
Woody, who was already on his fifth glass of...whatever. The portly unicorn bartender just shook his head as me and
Gossamer "bellied up to the bar" as it were.

"Greetin' sheriff. What can I do you for."

"I would like some sparkling spring water." Of course, all the roughest, toughest cowpokes drank sparkling spring water. I
just facehoofed and spared myself the aneurysm. "And the young lady would like a..."

"An apple cider. Cold and in a clean glass."

"CLEM! Come serve these two! I gotta git to th' bank before they close!" yelled the bartender into the backroom.

"So Shotglass." said Gossamer, with an even smarmier grin than usual. "How is the delightful Clementine?"

"Doin' as expected, sheriff. She's still th' lil' firecracker. And this is..."

"My name is Pretzel Poem, my dear sir."

"Y'all sound like one of them uppity Canterlot Ponies."

"Well, actually I'm from..."

"Save it. See ya later, son...I mean sheriff." Shotglass smirked at Gossamer as he left, he mood lighter ever since he
seen Gossamer. Well, at least he has one pony in his fan club. Gossamer soon started primping and preening. Does
he always carry a mirror with him?

"I got to look my best when Clem gets here." he said as he applied a generous amount of breath spray to his throat. All
I could do is roll my eyes (again). Love was always, to me at least, a silly emotion. Yes, despite my somewhat
hypocritical love of romance novels, I am what they called a cold fish. I never dated in high school or had any type of
meaningful crush.

Life has a way of making one eat their words.

"Hey! Stop that fightin', over there." Every stallion in the bar was transfixed on the counter. The raucous bar fight had
ended as quickly as it began as they turned toward the counter.

"Ah, Clem. So glad to see you." I turned my head toward the subject of Gossamer's little quip. My jaw dropped like
all the other stallions. Behind the counter, before my very eyes, stood a goddess. No, not a goddess. There was
no word in Equestria that described such beauty that transcended divinity itself. Oh, how I adored this mare that
was made for me and me alone.

Her off white coat was tinted with the slightest hint of yellow. Clementine's azure locks were bound into the cutest
"ponytail" I'd ever seen. And those eyes, a dazzling ruby red. She was no less a pony than she was a work of art.
My heart was caught in my throat as I gazed at the god-empress of my soul before me.

ECSTASY, THY NAME IS CLEMENTINE!

"You ordered the cider, miss."

"Guh?"

"Yes, th' cider."

"Ci-der?" I sputtered, my brain no longer a solid mass but a bowl of jelly devastated by the adorable Clementine.

"Yeah. You know, the stuff made out of apples."

"Ap-ples?"

"Don't mind her, Clem. She's just tired after a long day." horned in Gossamer, while I stared off into space, dreaming
about our beautiful house, spacious back yard, and our magical lesbian spawn.

"Y'know sheriff, there was sumthing in the back of my mind..."

"You aught to get checked for that, Woody. That might cause trouble for you in the long run."

Okay, now I know. Gossamer IS that stupid.

"Well, if it was important I woulda remembered." said Woody, as he downed his seventh glass. "I'll show Miss Poem to
the hotel."

I temporarily shook myself from increasingly sexually perverted fantasies involving Clementine and peanut butter to
address Woody. "Oh, pish-posh, my dear Woody. I'm sure I can locate the hotel."

"If y'all lookin' for th' hotel, it's across th' street and to th' left between th' drugstore and th' whorehouse." chimed
Clementine. She sounded so cute even saying the word "whorehouse". The day is slowly giving away to the
evening and my body needed a decent dinner and sleep for the busy day I'm sure to have tomorrow. I dreamily
left the bar and followed Woody and the sheriff out when Clementine called after me.

"I hope we can talk when you're feelin' better, Miss Poem." My glasses fogged up as i felt my entire body become
flushed. Someponies would say it's the liquor talking but I had nary a drop. A drunkeness has over taken my body
but it would was caused by something I'd couldn't explain. No, it was something I'd DIDN'T want to explain.

Me. The pony looked on as the mare with her nose in a book, her only knowledge of love came from the cheesy
bodice rippers that she read in her spare time. Now, not only have I fallen in love I fell in the worst kind of love.
Love at first sight. And with somepony who was the same gender, no less. I skipped all the way to the hotel, happy
as a lark. When I first came here, this whole town seemed to be conceived only to vex me (at best) but I have did a
complete (and somewhat) hasty 180.

Yes sir, nothing would bring me down again.

---

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN THE SCHOOL TEACHER JOB HAS ALREADY BEEN FILLED?!" I backed Woody into the wall, utter
hatred burning in my eyes. He looked nonplussed for somepony who was about to die in the most hideous way
possible. And believe me, I thought of five hundred in the past minute.

"No need ta shout, Pretzel." he said as he walked around me, since I was nearly paralyzed with extreme fury. "I
just remembered this mornin'. No biggie."

"NO BIGGIE?! I came to this damned town for nothing?!" I took several deep breaths as I slowly calmed down (at least
I didn't want to tear Woody's heart out and show it to him while it was still beating). "So...tell me about this mare."

"Well, she's an Earth Pony, like you and she comes from Canterlot, like you."

Anger and murderous rage started to fill me again. "Take me to the school, Woody." I growled. With a shrug of his
shoulders he led me to the schoolhouse. It was quaint little red building with a group of foals and their parents
crowding the new schoolmare. My suspicions were proven correct.

Her! The evil returned to my life!

"PERSIMMON PEPPER!" I roared, frightening several foals, their parents, and many animals in a three mile radius.
Persimmon looked at me with that obnoxious smirk she always had on that face of hers. She threw back her
head and started to chuckle.

"Ohhohoho. If it isn't Pretzy. Like always you're a day late and a bit short." I stared at her, teeth grinding and eyes
narrowed.

"It is on, Percy." I seethed as I walked towards my arch nemesis. "It. is. ON!"

Author's Note:

Any similarities to anypony living, dead, or background is purely coincidental.

So, comments?

Comments

[Winston]

Thoughts as of having read part 1:
Pretzel Poem seems like an interesting character. She's striking me as somepony real, and with a sense of Canterlot entitlement and fussiness that sets up a contrast to the rough small frontier town environment that has a lot of potential for developing conflict, so that's a good start.

The formatting of the text is messy. When you're writing paragraphs, don't add line breaks (AKA use the return key) in the middle of sentences. Best practice is to let the text automatically wordwrap and use a double return at the end of each paragraph to separate it from the next one.

A number of grammar corrections need to be made, a lot of which involve missing or out of place words. Getting a good proofreader would help a lot with this. Said tags are also problematic. Try studying the rules for when a line of dialogue should end with a comma or a period. For example,

"No need ta shout, Pretzel." he said as he walked around me

Grammatically this doesn't make sense. The period at the end of the dialogue in quotes needs to be a comma in this case. The quotation marks contain the thing he said, and if there's a period at the end of that thing, starting a new sentence, then the "he said..." part becomes a sentence fragment. On the other hand (hoof), if it was changed to not something 'he said' but rather an action he performed, such as,

"No need ta shout, Pretzel." He walked around me

Then a period is correct here, since the part in quotes is a complete sentence by itself and then the text following it is also a complete sentence, not a fragment. This is just something I tend to notice a lot because for a very long time, I was really bad at this myself, mostly because I didn't bother to just go read the rules. What I've explained here is far from exhaustive and you'd be best off using a Google search or something to find something better written that explains more about the proper grammar for dialogue and quotes, but this might get you started.

Finally, I thought that more should have been done with the love-at-first-sight scene. It seems like it was too short and too sudden for the thing that's probably going to provide the pivotal character motivation and generate the story's source of conflict. Also, scenes like this are one the of best sources for creating emotional interest and investment in the story. These, especially in your first chapter, are the hooks that give readers a reason to read any more of the story. They really have to pull. There should be a detailed exploration of exactly what happens to Pretzel Poem here. On a purely personal opinion, I'm not a big fan of just dropping a character head over heels instantly into love, it's just kind of jarring and forced. There has to be at least a little bit of buildup and a somewhat slower realization by Pretzel Poem about the way she feels over the course of some time - maybe she doesn't realize how hard she's hit at first and walks out of that saloon in relative calm, only to find that through rest of the day and the night she can't get the thought of Clementine out of her head. Maybe she fights it and thinks this is a silly thing that doesn't happen to her, and she slowly discovers that this time, it has, and she can't really do anything about it. Be sure to do justice to both the internal and external social uncertainties and complexities of her feelings, because that's what's going to sell your story as something really interesting and worthy of reading and recommending.