Story of a Stick

by Xinrick

Stick goes to Canterlot

After a solid two hours of running and climbing I finally got up to the city on the mountain. “Finally…” I grumble, getting up and taking deep breaths to steady my heart and breathing. “Okay...so fancy looking place…” I frown. “This is going to be annoying.” I start, cracking my neck and shoulders before jumping onto one of the fancy looking houses and leaping across the buildings to keep myself at least somewhat hidden. “So far there’s fancy...nobles...and I’m getting a growing sense that a good majority of this place is filled with assholes…” I mutter, already hating this place already.

I continued to move through the city and staying hidden from the unicorn centered city, which frankly in some cases I accidentally was out in the open, only to have all the ponies completely ignore me for either strange reasons, or because they had their noses up high like a bunch of twat baskets. “What to do what to-” I muttered before my stomach growled. “Shit...I’ve been running so much I forgot to eat…” I mutter, holding my stomach before hopping down and stealthily searching for a restaurant. And from all the window’s I managed to look through it was just bland, bland, and even more god damn bland! ”Sweet margarita’s! My god Hell probably has better food places than here!” I mentally shout, not believing how in the wide world they decided to have nothing but bland restaurants selling bland looking food.

“This truly meets the standards of a refined palate. Only a fool wouldn’t understand how delectable these delicacies are. Keep up the good work and I shall be off to my next appointment.” A fancy dressed unicorn pony with a regal appearance trotted out of the restaurant into the streets seemingly more important than any other unicorn around town.

“How old are you?” I ask the unicorn pony, shaking my head at seeing the fancy dressed unicorn pony have about as much wrinkles as an old woman, yet somehow had the voice and stance of an adult in their thirties or something. “Actually wait, no. That’s not the proper question, the proper question would be, how the hell can you accept bland?” I ask with a frown.

“What are you talking about? Are your taste buds truly that destroyed that they can not taste true flavor. Perhaps you need more help with your tongue?” The unicorn asked.

“Have...have you ever eaten food before?” I ask, still flabbergasted at how a bland square of ‘food’ barely the size of my pinkie could count as ‘food’.

“This is one of my favorite dishes. IT is the best thing to ever be served within the shining capital that is Canterlot. Truly I do pity how wretched your tongue works. It must be horrible knowing that you have no idea what food is.” The unicorn pony explains

“Have you ever had a peanut butter sandwich?” I ask, royally confused on how this pony can think. “Have you ever had buttered toast before?” I ask, my brain trying to come up with a reason why this old looking pony had no sense of what was good.

“Yes and they don’t even rate that high on my sense of taste. Barely a two out of ten.” The pony smugly says.

“...” I stare at the pony for a moment. “How do you function?” I ask dumbly, honestly not knowing how this pony can even work. “What’s the size of your stomach? The size of a grain of rice?” I ask worriedly.

“What are you talking about? I am a food critic. Why would I be stuffing myself when I have to give others my opinions?” The unicorn calmly answers.

“Three reasons actually.” I say. “One, a food critic has to try more than one dish, that’s just standard protocol if memory serves. Two, you actually have to try something that isn’t the exact same fucking thing repeatedly but with a leaf instead of a weed. And three…” I start, thinking for a moment. “Because you have to see if they can make anything else besides ‘a square of something the size of a grain of rice, a random fuck off leaf, and a piece of cheese so small even an Ant would be offended’.” I explain. “Cause what I saw, for the past five restaurants was bland, blander, blandest, and I just came up with ‘these restaurants can’t even feed a mouse for a day, let alone be a restaurant for the public’.” I rant.

“Truly a philistine with a broken tongue. Perhaps you need a doctor to check your head since you obviously don’t know the meaning of good food.” The pony haughtily said.

“Have you ever heard of a ‘grilled cheese sandwich’?” I ask, not believing this devil who would dare treat food like this. “Seriously, stop beating the concept of food as if you're beating a version of an orphan puppy, christ.”

“Only a three out of ten. Truly you need that doctor. Come along and we’ll find you someone to help your horribly set tongue.” The unicorn agrees.

“I can only see three reasons why your this brain dead about food.” I sigh out. “Either you hit your head when you were young and now thing that bland food is good. You are getting paid to say bland food is good and good food is bad for some fuck off reason. Or three, you either burned your tongue as a child so you can’t taste food properly, or you were born with a taste bud problem.” I say, and all of those reasons sounded quite believable to the common folk.

“This is what I like. It is the best. No other reason, you rude buffoon.” The unicorn pony snidely replies.

“There’s a difference between saying something’s ‘the best’, and completely ignoring the fact that mice would be offended by that blandness, and saying something’s ‘the best’ but keeping it as an opinion while pointing out that even a starving man would tell you ‘no’ to that.” I frown. “Your job is to be a food critic, and tell people if something’s cooked good, well, or bad. What I’m seeing is bad, not because it would taste ‘bland’, but because it looks bland, smells bland, and the amount of food you're getting for a retarded amount of money is just a giant fucking insult to people that eat food everywhere.” I rant, glaring at the deranged pony who thinks food is nothing more than just an attempt to please

“And once again you assume that your opinion means anything. You are no one here in this city and it matters not what you think. This it the food I like and the one that gets pushed to be the best. What I say goes. That’s it. End of discussion. You don’t like it, don’t eat it. Besides you’re just an alien from some other world who has been hiding in the city for who knows how long. What opinion would they accept?” The unicorn glares back.

“Gonna have to stop you there Bland Piss Ant.” I state. “You said ‘what I say goes’, so how the hell am I supposed to have an opinion? You said ‘that’s it’, so all my opinions are automatically null and void because you said so. YOU said ‘if you don’t like it, don’t eat it’, yet I’m supposed to obey your word as law, when everything you say is nothing but an opinion!” I shout angrily. “You think you're so high and mighty when you are nothing more than a random pony that says what you like and dislike. That’s your job, that’s fine to have an opinion, but when you state that your word is law, that’s when you demonize your own job as a critic and turn it into a fucking god complex.” I explain with a frown. “You are a stubborn mare who has demonized actually good cooking all because you ‘don’t like it’. Have you ever thought about all the lives your ruining? All the creativity and joy that cooking can bring is being crushed under your hooves like one would squash a bug?”

“And once again you take the stance of someone who knows more than they do. You assume you know what good food is when all you do is run around destroying things. What do you know about creating?” Her eyes turned yellow and red for a moment. “Truly chaotic and out of control. What right do you have to say about what I like and what I choose to share with others. You should just disappear from this city.”

“I never said your opinion meant fucking nothing you crazy mare.” I frown. “Opinion’s are fine, everyone has them, but your opinion destroys a lot as...well…” I trail off, the shifting eyes and how the mare knew I destroyed things. “Who are you?”

“Bye.” The mare says, her voice changing before a portal opened up below me somehow.

“Fucking hate you!” I shout as I fell through the portal.

“I hate you too!” The mare blows a kiss and smiles as her eyes turned yellow with red irises. The hate sounded more like ‘love’…weird.

I landed on the ground in the middle...of another god damned forest. “Oh for fuck sakes!” I scream, throwing my hands in the air and laying down. “Christ...and I’m still-” I was about to complain before I heard something roar, and when I looked up I saw a manticore. “...Food!” I cheer, jumping up and summoning a regular greatsword and dashing towards it, making the beast confused on why I didn’t immediately run away and I cleaved it’s head off in its confusion. “Yay! I can finally eat! Now if memory serves…” I mutter, going through my mind about how to cook manticores without accidentally poisoning the meat like a jackass.

To be continued...