Chapter 18: Wherefore Art Thou, Tom-Fuckery?
I hug Whisk bye as the three crusaders stand at the door. “Remember, Scootaloo likes her boxed lunches with a pacifier,” I say. The pony in question scoffs. “Sweetie Belle likes eating encyclopedias,” I continue. Everyone snickers at that. “And Applebloom likes apples.” With that, I smile at the three soon-to-be mares. “Can’t believe you three are almost adults now,” I say, crossing my arms. “I almost wish you three were kids again, but if that was the case, my windows would all be broken.” I frown. “Oh wait, one of them is,” I say seriously. I crack a smile at Scootaloo’s nervous chuckle. “In any case, say hi to your sisters for me.” I wave as they leave to go to the train station.
“Goodbye Mr Anon!” The terror trio reply. Whisk waves bye as well, closing the door behind her before leading the three to the station. I frown once all four of them are gone. Now, I gotta check on Sergui.
After half an hour, I got my coat and left through the front door. I put my hands in my pockets as I walk to where Segway’s apartment is. At least, I think it’s his apartment. He never actually told me where he lives, but I learned that information when I have to pay him as the Checkpoint manager. I trudge through the streets of Manehatten, which seems to be dimmer in color today. I notice that the ponies of Manehatten are much less livelier than usual. Hell, one guy didn’t even bother yelling at me when I bumped into him! I frown as I think of the impact of the war. If the dragons can go so far as to bomb the Checkpoints, they can surely bomb the cities.
I find Segway’s apartment building, grey as concrete. I head in, going through a swinging door. I pause as I see the clerk. A maneless brown pony, reading a newspaper. I clear my throat to get his attention. “Yo, does a pony named Sergui live here?” I ask. He scoffs and puts down his paper.
“Who wants to know?” He asks.
“Someone who gives a shit,” I reply. “Which is rare, considering it’s hard to find shits to give.” The pony stares at me for a second before sighing.
“You know what, I don’t even care enough,” he mutters. “Friend?”
“Yep.”
“Here,” the clerk tosses me some keys. “He’s been really mopey lately. Normally, I wouldn’t care, but his crying is starting to piss some of the residents off.” I nod.
“Thanks.”
I go up the stairs, eager to put myself at ease. Something’s wrong, but I don’t know what. I don’t like not knowing what’s wrong. I find Segway’s room number and fiddle with the keys. I unlock the door, and step inside quietly.
“Please, look, I tried okay? I just...” I hear Segway stop talking for a second before hearing him scratch something with a quill. “... I just want out, is that so much to ask for?” The hell? “Look, it was nice and all when I first joined, but I figured out what I really want.” As he talks, I look in from the doorway to see a simple living room. It’s small, with a couch, a small TV, a mini fridge, a door leading to a different room, and a table. On the wall, I can see a couple pictures of Segway and his marefriend hung up, along with a picture of him, Spearhead, and myself. I walk in cautiously now. I notice that the table has quite a few letters. I frown as I feel an urge to go through them. I notice the door’s cracked open, and I can barely see Segway writing something as he talks. I look at the pile of papers before mentally sighing.
I sit down quietly and start skimming through the various papers. The addresses are from the Minotaur country, most of which talk about some sort of objective he’s supposed to do. When I reach the final letter, I stop as I see a royal symbol on it. It has a shield with two axes in front of it. The royal symbol of Minotaurs. I feel various theories run through my head, trying to make sense of this. I start to open it, but I stop. “...” I stare at the closed envelope. Do I really want to know though? I think of various reasons why I don’t. Segway might be dangerous. He might be a spy. Worst of all, I might stop seeing him as a friend. However, I think of reason why I should see the contents. Equestria’s safety, the safety of my friends, and above all else, Whisk’s safety. I frown deeply, and start to open it again. However, I hear the doorknob start twisting from Segway’s room. Instantly, I shove the letter into my coat’s inner pockets without thinking. Shit. I turn around to see Segway staring at me with wide eyes. I look at the table calmly, searching for an excuse as to what the fuck I’m doing here. “... Do you have the remote in this clusterfuck?” I ask him nonchalantly. Segway continues staring before shaking his head and nodding.
“Y-Yeah, it’s in the drawer,” he says nervously. He walks over and opens it up to reveal the remote to the TV.
“Thanks. I figured it’d be best to check up on you while watching some news,” I say casually, turning on the television. I hear a soft sigh of relief. “So, what’s with all the junk mail?” I ask. Segway chuckles nervously.
“W-well, there’s been a few ponies wanting to sell some enlargement pills,” he says, blushing a little. I know that’s bullshit, but I bite my tongue.
“Hm. Welp, how’s life been recently?” I ask. “You’ve been pretty nervous the last few days. All secretive and stuff.”
“It’s been o-okay, but I kinda have...” He trails off. I notice he’s eyeing the pile of paper. “... a thingy to take care of.” I quirk an eyebrow.
“What? You gotta jack off or something?” I ask. He breaks eye contact with the paper to look at me with a red face of embarrassment.
“N-no! No no!” He yells. I snicker at his reaction before sighing.
“I guess I gotta go then,” I say, getting up. I start to walk out, but stop as I realize something. “... Remember buddy, if you need help, you got friends.” Cheesy as fuck, but good enough. Segway chuckles.
“Right, will do! Uh, bye now!” I get shoved out before the door slams closed. I chuckle and walk away, terror filling up my mind as I realize I don’t know what to do.
It’s been a couple days, and I still haven’t opened the letter yet. I sat it on the corner of the coffee table, and told Whisk that it was a diplomat letter sent to me. When she asked if she could open it, I said it was top secret. I feel bad for lying, but I don’t want her to find out what Segway is. That’s what I tell myself anyway. In any case, I’ve been working twice as hard in managing the Checkpoint. Now, I have to work in the office and at home. I mean, I’m not really surprised, but I kinda miss the good times of putting shit like that off until tomorrow. Anyway, today’s Wednesday. I hug Whisk bye as I get ready to go.
“Love you, I’ll be back at eleven,” I say.
“Stupid war, making you late,” Whisk mutters, making me smirk.
“It’ll be fine Whisk. Will you be okay?” Whisk looks at me for a moment before smiling.
“Of course I’ll be fine! I’m just worried about the softie,” she says with a cocky attitude. I smile and peck her head.
“Alright then, be safe okay?” I ask. She nods. Normally, I wouldn’t be nervous about her going out. However, ponies are starting to publicly show their anxiety towards other species. I may be paranoid, but I think that the ponies will start getting rough around the other creatures. It’s not for sure though. I don’t think it’ll be too bad in Manehatten, thinking back to how well my neighbors accepted me. I sigh inwardly and hug Whisk again. Once that’s done, I exit the house, mentally preparing myself for the day.
Later on, around midnight, I pant as I run back to my house. Whisk is going to be so pissed! I knew that I shouldn’t have played Go Fish before leaving! I should have never listened to Spearhead’s bullshit! ‘It’ll only be a few minutes’ he says, ‘it’ll be perfectly fine!’ What a load of shit!
I come up to my house, and notice the lights on. Fuck. I also notice that the TV isn’t on. Double fuck. I silently curse at myself and slowly approach the door.
Opening it slowly, I poke my head in. However, I feel my jaw drop. Whisk is laying on the couch, with two young griffons against her side, wrapped in blankets. I rub my eyes, thinking I’m just too fucking tired. However, upon opening them, I still see the two babies. I finally notice Whisk is asleep, thus I carefully walked over and gently wake her up.
“Whisk, Whisk wake up,” I say, nudging her. Her eyes slowly open and look over to me.
“Hey,” she says, smiling a little.
“Hi, uh, why do you have two babies?” I ask. She slowly looks at the two waddled bundles of youth. With the same speed, she looks back at me.
“Found them. There was a note on them,” she says. I feel my confusion grow as she answers.
“Where did you find them?” I ask. Whisk sighs quietly.
“Alley,” she replies. “Anon, someone abandoned them. I didn’t know what to do,” she explains. I nod understandingly.
“It’s fine, I think you made the right decision,” I soothe, hugging her. She sighs happily. “So, what do we do with them now?” I ask. Whisk frowns and looks at the sleeping babies.
“...” I have a feeling she doesn’t want to answer.
“... Put them up for adoption?” I ask. She turns to me, opening her beak to say something, but stops. She closes her beak, looking down as she thinks.
“... Yeah, we can do that,” she says softly. I can still see her gears turning in her head. I frown.
“Is something wrong?” I ask. She blinks and looks up at me.
“No! Nothing’s wrong!” She says quickly. I deadpan at her.
“Whisk, you don’t have to lie,” I lightly chastise. She sighs.
“... I don’t want to talk about it right now,” she mutters. I sigh on the inside, but I don’t push further.
“Do you want me to find them a place?” I ask. She shakes her head.
“N-no, I can find somewhere tomorrow,” she says. I frown, seeing how nervous she is.
“... Okay.” With that, I go to the bedroom. I come back after a few minutes, wearing a white t-shirt with boxers. I sit down on the couch, and turn on the TV. I instantly mute it to keep the peace. Normally, I just read the headlines anyway. Whisk watches the news with me calmly, allowing the little griffons to sleep. In my head, I think of what to do. I’m still worried about Segway’s letter, but now I got a baby situation. Perfect. Fucking perfect. I glance at the babies and notice one of them looking at me. I feel myself freeze at that. Whisk notices this and smirks.
“Anon, have you never seen a baby before?” She teases. I clear my throat.
“Well, yeah,” I say. “They’re everywhere where I was from.”
“Uh huh. How many babies have you ever held?” She asks.
“None,” I answer cautiously. Whisk hums in acknowledgment. Carefully, picks up the staring baby with a claw, and starts moving it towards me. “What’re you doing?” I ask nervously, staring back at the little griffon. I realize she’s handing it to me, and I quickly, gently, grabbed it once it was within arms reach. I look at her in irritation. “Whisk, why did you-“ I stop as I hear the baby giggle. I look down in confusion, seeing the little one giggle at me. “... What’re you laughin’ at?” I ask with a slight smile. I reach toward its head with two fingers, and start petting it gently. The baby coos at the affection, and closes its eyes.
“... That was a little funny,” Whisk says, smirking. I look up in confusion. “It’s almost like a switch was flipped in your head.” I roll my eyes. I stop my petting once the baby went to sleep.
“... I need to stop, otherwise it might imprint on me,” I say. Whisk giggles.
“Imprint? What do you think these are, ducks?” She jokes. I deadpan.
“Look, the point is, I don’t think we can keep them,” I say. Her smile disappears instantly. I recognize her disappointment and frown in confusion. “... Whisk, what’s wrong?” I ask. She sighs.
“... I can’t have children,” she mutters. I furrow my brows.
“... Okay?” I cautiously reply. She looks at me in confusion. “Look, I’m not a rocket scientist, but I’ve had enough biology classes to know that two different species won’t work.” Whisk blinks before tilting her head.
“What do you mean?” She asks. I start to reply, before quickly remembering that stuff works differently in Equestria because of magical bullshit.
“... Does magic allow two different creatures to have children?” I randomly guess. She nods slowly, as if this is something I should already know. “... How the hell is it that, in the eleven years I’ve been here, I have never realized that?” I ask myself out loud. Whisk snickers before frowning again.
“Anon, I meant that I’m not able to get pregnant anymore.” I snap out of my own thoughts of how truly competent I am and focus back on topic.
“How?” I ask. She sighs.
“Well, not every bar fight has been settled without scratches,” she says. I nod as I understand what she means.
“So, that explains why you want to keep them,” I mutter. She nods.
“That, and they’re adorable,” she says. I sigh inwardly.
“... Isn’t it kinda rushing our relationship if we get kids now?” I ask. She starts to protest, but stops.
“... Yeah,” she agrees nervously, looking over at the little ones.
“I’m sorry, but I don’t think we’re ready for that kinda thing yet,” I explain. She nods some more before sighing.
“...I can drop them off at an adoption center after work,” she says softly. I nod.
“Okay,” I say. I lean over and peck her head with a kiss. She blushes a little and smiles slightly. “Do you want to stay in here for a little bit more?” I ask. She looks at the still sleeping babies and nods. “Alright.” I get up and go to the kitchen, planning to get a cup of milk. I step into the kitchen, and immediately notice a basket on the counter. I quirk an eyebrow and walk over to look at it closely. I peer into it, and feel my heart skip a beat. There’s a note at the bottom.
To Whoever finds this, do what you want with them. They’re not mine.
I frown at the words and sigh. The more things change, the more they stay the same. I shake my head at the terrible message and open the fridge. After I get some milk, I go back to the living room. I sit down and continue to rest next to Whisk, peacefully watching TV with her until the night passes. I keep glancing at the small griffons nestled with Whisk, wondering what kind of awful ‘parents’ they had. However, I’m not entirely surprised. This is something that has happened a lot where I lived. I wasn’t abandoned or anything, but I’ve met many people who were. I really do feel bad for the little griffons, but we can’t keep them. While we may have some room, I don’t think we could handle that kind of responsibility.
I hug the drowsy Whisk bye as I try to rush out the door. “Bye, love you,” I quickly say, knowing I’ll be late if I don’t get my fucking fatass out the fucking door right fucking now. Whisk groggily waves as I stumble out, tired from the lack of sleep. We never went to bed last night, and we never slept. I start to jog as I hurry to work. I know for fact that the ponies will give me a strike for being late.
I arrive at the Checkpoint, tired and ready for today to be over with. I notice Spearhead and Segway rushing to their posts, probably late for a meeting or something. It is odd abut how nervous they look, but I brush it off. Probably doesn’t concern me. I start to continue my way, but I hear shouting from behind me. “Anon! Wait!” I hear.
I turn around to find Whisk with the two young ones. What the fuck? I rush up to meet her, confusion clear on my face. “I can’t take them with me today!” She says, panting due to either running or flying for a good twenty minutes. “I’m sorry, but I have too many things to do today!” She quickly says, practically shoving the babies into my arms. I quickly take hold of them and look at Whisk in pure confusion as she frantically explains to me about her schedule. The bad thing is, I can’t understand her since she’s talking too fast. “-then I’ll be home around five, okay?” She asks. I blink as I try to process what she said.
“... What?” I simply ask. She groans.
“No time, gotta go, don’t let them out of your sight,” she quickly says, taking off immediately after responding to me. I only stand around and blink a couple more times.
“... Dafuq?” I ask out loud, genuinely confused as panic sets in. I look at the little griffons in my arms, who are staring back at me with a look of curiosity. “... What are you looking at?” I ask them. One of them reaches out to me, making some weird baby noise. “... I need to get to my post,” I mutter bitterly. With that, I walk to my office.
I step into my office, holding the little ones in one arm as I close the door with the other. “Dammit Whisk, I’m not exactly up for this shit today,” I mutter, walking to my desk. I pull out one of the drawers, which has a couple boxes full of work papers. I take two out, dump the papers, and set them next to me. I open another drawer, and grab two small pillows. The pillows were originally for whenever I was stuck in the office for longer than usual. Many great naps have been had, not gonna lie. I set each baby in a box and sigh. “Okay, remember kiddos, don’t talk to the strangers I talk to,” I warn. Both babies stare at me for a minute before one of them reaches for me, making a weird sound again. “... Right, talking to babies,” I say to myself, face palming. I finally look at what’s on my desk, finding a letter. I frown and open it.
Inspector,
Due to recent happenings, the Checkpoint is now allowed to allow civilians to pass. However, there is a limit to how many civilians can pass. Starting today, only two thousand non-military personal can pass. A counter has been provided for you.
Carry on with your decent work.
I furrow my brows at the letter. I can distinctly feel a sense of mild disgust from the last two words. I shake my head. At least things will be slightly more normal. I lean towards the mic. “Next!” I look at the little griffons to see that both of them are wide eyed. I smirk at their reaction and bring my attention to the first entrant of today.
A yak.
“Best Human! Yak has missed you very much! How is human’s day?” He asks. My face subtly twitches as I restrain my exhaustion. If I yell, the babies will cry, but if I don’t, he’ll- “Who are tiny griffons?” He suddenly asks as I panicked in my head. I blink in surprise before clearing my throat.
“They’re here for today. My girlfriend found them in an alley, so-“
“Oh no!” The yak interrupts, sounding mortified. He looks back at the little ones. “Yak knows trouble very well, yak wishes luck!” I blink again as he hands me his papers. “It’s good thing Best Human adopted them!” He exclaims loudly, smiling at the thought. I scoff as I shake my head.
“No, I haven’t adopted them. I’m going to drop them off at-“
“Why not adopt little griffons?” The yak asks. I sigh.
“Look, the short version of the answer is Whisk and I are still dating, and something like this is obviously too big for us,” I reply. The yak shakes his head.
“I think Best Human should adopt little ones. Little ones will like you. After all, Best Human is best human!” He declares proudly. One of the babies giggles at him. “See! Baby agrees!” I start to reply, but I just sigh in defeat as I realize I’m not winning a senseless argument. I look through his papers, stamp green, and allow him to pass. He gives me a farewell and trots off quickly. I lean towards the mic. “Next!” I lean back and sigh. Hopefully the next entrant is someone I don’t know.
“Hi Anon!” I hear. I look up to see Canadian Bacon. At least it’s a face I like. “Snowy and Maple are sick, but I-“ he stops mid sentence when he looks over the counter. He looks at me as I just stare at him in bemusement. “... Anon, why do you have baby griffons?” He asks.
“Whisk found them in an alleyway,” I respond simply. He smiles widely.
“And you adopted them!” He guesses with enthusiasm.
“No,” I deadpan. “I’m just keeping them until I can get them to an adoption center.” Bacon smirks.
“You’re definitely gonna keep them,” he says cockily. I roll my eyes.
“No, I won’t,” I say.
“Uh huh,” he remarks. “So, how’s my little sis doing?” He asks.
“Tired of waiting on my ass to come home,” I answer.
“That sounds about right,” he chuckles. “I wanted to come over to see if you two were okay. I heard Equestrians were getting... agitated.” I scoff, taking his passport and looking it over.
“That’s a nice way of saying it,” I joke. “How’s Maple? Grades doing good?”
“Yep! He’s been trying to cook as well!” He says excitedly. He kinda pauses before chuckling nervously. “He uh, kinda needs a little help with that though.”
“He should talk to Whisk, she’s a good cook,” I say, stamping green.
“That’s what I’ve been thinking,” he says, grabbing his papers to leave. He waves bye. “I’ll see you later Anon!” I wave back as the door closes. I lean towards the mic, glancing at the babies to check on them.
“Next!”
It’s around noon, and the babies are restless. I had announced civilians could not longer pass around three hours ago. Whisk dropped by and gave me some milk for the little ones, but when I asked why she couldn’t take them, she didn’t even respond. I have a feeling she’s trying to make me change my mind. However, I keep being headstrong on my decision. That decision significantly strengthened when I had to change their diapers. Now, I have both griffons in my arms, gently swaying to an imaginary song as I pray to God these two will sleep. I sigh with exhaustion as I realize that they’re probably not gonna stop. I finally put them down into their boxes, tired of holding them. “Fine,” I mutter. They both look at me, ceasing their agonizing noises of despair. “Cry. Cry your salty, fruitless tears you little-“
“Anon?” I suddenly hear, making me jump in surprise. I look over to see Spearhead, either confused as to why the fuck I have babies with me, or confused as to why I’m pissed at two babies. I sigh as he walks over uncertainly. I take note of how quiet the two babies are now.
“Whisk found ‘em in an alley. I’m taking them to an adoption center,” I say. Segway quirks an eyebrow.
“Not gonna keep them?” He asks. I face palm.
“No. Why does everyone-“
“I’m just curious dude,” he defends. I scoff.
“Really? Wanna take them instead?” I ask. He laughs.
“No, thanks though,” he says.
“Damn,” I mutter to myself. Spearhead rolls his eyes, though he keeps a smile on.
“Anyway, I’m here to ask you to follow me, there’s a situation,” he says, dropping the smile. I frown.
“What kind of situation?” I ask.
“‘Solving future problems’ kind of situation,” he says. I sigh.
“Sorry, but I can’t leave this post,” I say. “That’ll earn me a strike. I apparently only get three.” I thought the guy was kidding when he first said it, but he reported to me that it was ‘rather amazing’ to see that I was, in fact, competent at all. He expressed how lucky I was to not get a single strike. I snap back to reality, noticing Spearhead nodding.
“That sounds about right. I’ll be back then,” he announces, promptly leaving to probably get something. While I await for Spearhead to return, I give the griffons some attention. One of the babies is sleeping, which I was amazed at how quick it was to sleep, but the other is still looking around. It finally looks at me and reaches up at me, making some noises again.
“Do you want up?” I ask it. It makes some more baby noises, which I think means yes. “How about no?” I reply. The baby frowns in the language of grumpy. I frown right back. “Look dude, you’re about one foot shorter than Lucky, and she’s just as liable to break stuff on accident,” I say. Why the fuck am I talking to a baby like it’s an adult? The baby tilts its head at the mention of Lucky, but continues to reach up at me. “No, no upsies,” I sternly say, crossing my arms. It replies with more baby noises, sounding like protests against my oppression of rights. “No,” I say. It protests with democratic intent. “No means no little guy,” I say. The baby demands the vertical lift it so craves. “If I give you what you want, will you be a little more quiet?” I ask. I briefly question ‘what the fuck is the point of arguing with a baby’ to myself as the baby nods. “Fine.” I make no acknowledgement that I lost to a baby in an argument as I pick it up. “There, you happy?” I ask. It remains silent as it finally gets a view of my desk. It can see the rulebook, the stamps, the buttons, and the mic. I notices that it specifically eyes the rulebook. With a free hand, I take the book and open it to a map of Equis/Earth, just to see what it would do. The baby’s eyes shines with amazement as it looks at the world on a page, printed with ink. He points to the map and makes noises. I imagine he’s asking what it is.
“It’s the world. A rather complicated place,” I say absentmindedly. I mean, fuck it, why not? It gives me something to do. “There are ponies, griffons, hippogriffs, Minotaurs, bug-Ponies, all kinds of creatures...”
I continue to wait for Spearhead to come back as I let the griffons sleep. The curious one fell asleep a while ago. I smirk at the admittedly adorable display. However, I remember that they don’t need me in their lives. I chuckle slightly as I think of my colorful language. I really feel bad for Whisk, but we can always adopt later on. I hear the door open and a pony walk in. Thankfully, he can’t really see the babies in the boxes.
“Anonymous, next time, get your ass out,” I hear a familiar voice say. I look over to see the grey soldier pony from when I got here.
“What, and get a strike? It’s against the rules-“
“Damn the rules!” He yells. I quirk an eyebrow. “When I tell you to jump, you say how high!” I frown and cross my arms. “Now, let’s practice. Jump.”
“How high are you?” I reply. He frowns even more.
“You mouthin’ me off?” He asks threateningly.
“What ever do you mean?” I ask innocently.
“... You know what, I got bigger things to worry about than scum like you,” he says, tossing a stack of files onto my desk. “It has to be done by tomorrow.” With that, he walks out. I flip him off behind his back and turn to check on the griffons, only to see that one of them is also flipping the guy off. I stifle a laughter as I shake my head.
“That’s a bad thing, don’t do that,” I chastise the vulgar baby. It only giggles in response.
It’s late at night, but I reached the adoption center. The center’s dimly lit, with the only living thing awake is a desk clerk. There are grey couches and chairs, along with magazines for the bored adults that await for appointments. I hold the two baby griffons as I walk over to the pony desk clerk, tired as fuck. She smiles at me as I walk up, but frowns at the sight of griffons. “Excuse me,” I say. “I need to find homes for these two.” The pony looks at the sleeping griffons before looking at me with a nervous expression.
“I-I’m sorry sir, we can’t...” she trails off, making barely audible mutters.
“What?” I ask.
“We uh, can’t take griffons...” she explains. I blink as I process this information.
“Why?” I ask, furrowing my brow.
“Well, there’s been a new law in place recently...” I can tell that the pony actually feels bad for the little ones. It’s the same expression I see whenever someone sees someone else genuinely forget their passport, thus getting denied.
“Well, where am I supposed to go then?” I ask her irritably.
“....” The pony looks around uncomfortably. “W-well, um, we’re the uh.... only adoption center now...” I stare at her, dumbfounded.
“What do you mean? It’s Manehatten! There’s gotta be somewhere right?” I ask. She chuckles nervously.
“... N-new city law?” She answers nervously. I groan.
“Dammit, racist ponies,” I mutter, facepalming. I’m so goddamn tired of ponies and their bullshit. I turn to leave as the embarrassed pony sputters.
“I’m sorry, I know the law’s bad, but I can’t really do anything about it,” she explains. I half assed a wave bye to her as I walk out, carrying the little griffons.
It’s the next day, I’m carrying a baby in a basket to work as I walk down the streets. Whisk agreed to take one of the griffons today, but she decided that having both of them would be too much. I call bullshit, but I don’t think I even have enough energy to argue today. I got home too late to work on anything having to do with whatever the fuck that pony gave me yesterday. I’m not even going to try and do it. He wants it done the next day? Do it your-fucking-self.
I arrive at my office, and I am greeted by that solider pony. He stands at attention as I enter. I note how he doesn’t acknowledge the baby in the basket. Must not be too concerning to him then. “Anonymous. You have my papers done?” He asks.
“Nope,” I say, leaning to the mic. However, a hoof stops me and shoves me back into my seat.
“What do you mean ‘no?’” He asks angrily.
“It depends, do you mean no, as in the answer, or do you mean no, as in the answer to life?” I ask sarcastically.
“You were supposed to do them!” He yells. I scoff.
“I’ll get them done once I have time.”
“You had last night to do them! That’s one strike!” He yells. With that, he marches out furiously. Military or not, he’s an asshole. I look over at the basket to find that the little one is now asleep. I envy its ability to do that. I lean towards the mic and finally start the day.
“Next!”
Three hours later, I’m nearing the end of civilians allowed to pass. I massage my face, hoping it could relieve any stress of some kind. It’s not working, but it was worth the shot. I look up as the next entrants walk in, revealing themselves to be two hippogriffs. One was a light blue, and the other was a dark orange. I smirk at the color scheme as they hand their passports.
“...” Both of them stare at me with obvious anxiety, awaiting to hear the sound of two stamps. I look at their papers and pause. Their passports were issued in a city at the Separatists’ country. I look up at them with a raised eyebrow. Both of them are sweating rather profusely.
“... Separatists, huh?” I ask. I see their eyes widen in horror. “... Why do you want to go to Equestria?” I press, crossing my arms. The orange one gulps audibly, but the blue one answers.
“W-we can’t stay there,” she nervously says.
“Why?” I ask. The blue one clears her throat as she tries to recompose herself, while the orange one visibly relaxes a little.
“... We can’t be together there...” I nod. I heard that the Separatists were extreme about certain things. I guess sexuality is one of them.
“Okay, so why Equestria? Why not go to the other Hippogriffian kingdom?” Before the blue one could answer, the orange one suddenly scoffs.
“Remember the worldwide war? To them, we’re just traitors, and we thought Equestria would at least be okay with us,” she says bitterly. I nod again and look at their passports. I frown as I look at their weights. Since they’re both in here, their weights are combined, making me have to add their weights from the passport together. However, their weight total is off by five pounds. I look at them and finally notice the saddlebag the orange one is carrying. I frown, remembering Luna’s words about terrorists.
“Turn to the scanner,” I say coldly. Without waiting for a reply, I press the button to scan, and I wait for the x-rays. Getting the photos, I take a quick look and notice that there’s something in the orange one’s bag. I look closely, squinting my eyes to try and see what it is. It looks like a bomb. I sigh deeply and sternly look at the two hippogriffs. “... Here you go,” I say, stamping green on the blue hippogriff’s passport. She thanks me and the orange one holds out her claw. “I’m gonna have to hold you for a minute,” I say menacingly. I turn to the blue one. “Go ahead, she’ll catch up with you,” I encourage. She nods, thanking me again, and walks out. I turn to the orange one again. I harden my glare, and point to the saddle.
“What’s in the bag?” I ask harshly.
“Well, you know, makeup, bits-“
“Bullshit,” I interject. She stops talking and settles with staring at me, expressionless. “Give it to me,” I order. Wordlessly, she hands me the saddlebag. I open it to discover that my suspicions were correct. Despite how shit the design seems to be, it looks like it’s capable of doing damage. What makes me nervous, is that the wires are not in standard color. “... You’re very good at lying,” I remark, looking up at her.
“...” she stares at me silently as I reach for the walkie talkie. I start to talk into it, but I stop as I realize there are tears going down her face. I look at her eyes to see that she’s trying to hold all her emotions in. I can see that she doesn’t look angry at all, just sad. Not a normal terrorist response. I try to bring myself to talk into the device, but I seem to be unable to do so. I look at the hippogriff again and felt a slight pang of pity for her. I recognize the look she has, signifying her reluctance of doing any of this. I sigh inwardly as I try to come up with a way to allow her to pass, as well as getting rid of the bomb. She’s probably the only one who knows how to disarm it, so I can’t risk the royal guards trying to disarm it. I also have a lot of leverage here, being able to allow her to pass and all. I clear my throat.
“Why did you have the bomb?” I ask. The orange hippogriff refuses to answer and just continues to stare at me. “... You didn’t want to do this, did you?” She looks away, towards the floor. “... How do I disarm it?” She looks at me, still silently crying, and keeping silent. I realize that she’s not going to talk anytime soon. “... Look, we can make a deal,” I say calmly. She still refuses to show any emotion. “If I disarm the bomb, you can walk away from it all as long as you promise not to do it again.” The hippogriff remains silent. Suddenly, the bomb starts to beep. I look at it in horror, along with the hippogriff. I glance at the baby griffon, still sleeping in the basket. Shit. I clear my throat. “Hey, we don’t have much time, okay? Tell me how to disarm it.” She looks up at me in horror, but still refuses to speak.
I rack my brain desperately as I try to think of what I’m supposed to do. Suddenly, the baby starts crying, scaring the hell out of me and the hippogriff. At that same moment, I get an idea. I pick up the baby and cradle him, showing the hippogriff. “Look, you have a good number of reasons to stop this,” I say. She looks at me nervously. “One, you’ll probably live. Two, you’ll see that other hippogriff again. Three, if you don’t disarm the bomb, she’ll only remember you for murdering two people, one of which is a child,” I desperately say. She looks at me with fear before looking at the baby. “I swear you’ll be fine,” I continue. She looks at me one last time, clearly arguing with herself in her head. The beeping suddenly becomes faster. I can only think of curse words as the beeping continues.
“How can I trust you?” The hippogriff asks.
“Does this look like the fucking time for trust!? Disarm the damn thing already!” I yell impatiently. She flinches away from me, and looks at the bomb nervously. There’s still an argument in her head. I shut my eyes tightly as I pray to God we don’t die.
Suddenly, the beeping stops.
The griffon’s crying, however, hasn’t. I open my eyes to see that we’re fine, and the hippogriff is panting. I pant as well, setting the baby back in his basket as he continues his cries. I put my face in my hands and sigh in relief. “... That was fucking close,” I mutter. The hippogriff nods. I look at the door out of my office and pause. “... I could have left at any time,” I absentmindedly remark. The hippogriff blinks in surprise before glaring daggers into me.
“So why didn’t you get someone!? Why did you waste your time with talking to me!?” She yells. “You even put a child’s safety at risk!” I nod.
“I forgot,” I simply reply, starting to chuckle a little. She stares at me incredulously as I start laughing at how fucking stupid I was. That, and I think the adrenaline is still running through me. Once I finish my rather insane sounding laugh, I look at the bomb. “... That bomb’s not allowed,” I randomly point out. I look up at the hippogriff, who stares at me without showing any emotions. “I should detain you, even if it’s disarmed.” The hippogriff shakes her head.
“Look, just detain me already you son of a-“
“Good thing I can’t give a fuck anymore,” I remark, stamping her passport green. I hand her passport back as she looks at me nervously.
“... Why?” She asks.
“Huh?”
“Why did you trust me?” She asks. “Why did you give me a chance?” I look up in thought, racking my brain for answers. I really could have just made the guards detain her. Granted, they couldn’t disarm the bomb, but I doubt that they don’t have a spell or something to minimize the blast. Hell, I could have just denied her without even bringing up the fucking thing.
“... No fuckin’ clue,” I finally answer with a shrug. The hippogriff’s wings fall as she blinks in surprise. “Now, go away, I got shit to do.” The hippogriff continues to stare at me in befuddlement before walking out. I smirk to myself as I think of the last five or ten minutes of terror. “No fuckin’ clue at all,” I mutter, hearing the click of the printer. I take the citation and read it.
Entrant had weapons and/or contraband
Strike two.
“Whoopty-jolly-fuckity-doo,” I comment, crumbling up the paper. I toss it in the bin and lean towards the mic. “All civilians must leave the premises, the area is now closed off to non-military personnel. Thank you.”
It’s almost five. I keep a bottle in hand as I multi-task between giving the baby some attention, and paperwork. I sign certain things, crumple others, and write ‘fuck you’ on some of them. I had finished up the workload I was given yesterday, and set it off to the side. It wasn’t anything different from normal, but it had some stuff to do with the guards stationed here. The papers didn’t need to be turned in today, especially since they’re just request letters that I decide on wether they get granted or not. I stop to look down at the griffon once I notice he’s not moving much. He’s sleeping soundly, nestled in my arm. I smile and softly set him back in the basket. I place the now empty bottle on my desk and start to slump. Of course, the moment I try to relax, Sergeant Fuckboi walks in.
“Alright ape, are my papers done?” He asks. I sigh at the name and hand him the paperwork. “Good. It’s about time you earn your-“ The soldier stops as he looks at one of the forms. He turns around and slams it on my desk. “WHAT THE BUCK IS THIS!?!?” I look at the form and see that it’s one of my ‘fuck you’ signatures.
“It’s a ‘fuck you’ form,” I state seriously. He glares at me.
“Do you think this is funny?” He asks.
“No, I didn’t think it was funny, I think it’s beyond retarded. Thus, I wrote ‘fuck you’. Standard practice,” I say. The form had requested permission to take nearby apartments and housing for immigrants.
“Who do you think you are?!” The soldier asks.
“Look here Bald Lieutenant Dan, I don’t give a fuck how angry you are. I don’t care about your status or role. I think it’s a bit illegal to do that kinda dumb shit,” I point out. “Their housing’s private property. Their property, their rules.”
“... Strike three. Pack your stuff, you’re gone.” With that, the sergeant marches out. I scoff and lean towards the mic.
“To the soldier who just left the passport inspector’s booth, you’re a cock sucking son of a bitch. It’s not my fault you’re a racist fuck who couldn’t comprehend basic moral codes easily understood by most other ponies. So, fuck you, fuck your sister, and fuck this.” I stand up, grab the baby basket, Whisk’s picture, and exit the room. Upon walking out, I am greeted by groups of guards either staring at me, glaring at me, or quietly whispering. I keep an indifferent expression on as I start my walk home. Spearhead runs up to me, disgruntled.
“Anon! Wait!” He yells after me, catching up. He stops me, turning me to face him. “Why did you do that!?” He yells. I scoff.
“Asshole fired me because I had morals. See ya later Spear,” I say, continuing my walk. Spearhead’s face shifts into surprise and sputters.
“W-Wait, fired!?” He yells after me. I give a half assed wave, not turning back. Spearhead stares after me for a few seconds before shaking his head in disbelief. He turns back, and runs back to his group.
I open the door, and walk into my house. I sigh deeply as I look at the still sleeping griffon. I’m amazed this kid could sleep through all that. I can tell Whisk isn’t home yet, probably still at work. It’s almost six now, so it should be a couple more hours before she gets here. I set the basket down on the couch. I place Whisk’s picture on the coffee table. I place my fat ass on the couch, opposite of the basket. I turn on the television, hoping for some peace and quiet as I settle for television. Of course, the moment I think of that, the front door opens. Whisk rushes in with an umbrella and shuts the door quickly to prevent some rain from coming in. Apparently it was scheduled to rain today. She pants from running here before Checking on her basket to see that the baby is happily making noises. She sighs in relief and turns to see me on the couch. She blinks in surprise before giving me a questioned look.
“Fired,” I answer nonchalantly, never taking my eyes away from the TV. Whisk gasps and rushes over, setting her baby basket on the couch.
“Why?” She asks worriedly.
“I had basic morals,” I mutter, trying to seem disinterested.
“Oh honey, I’m sorry,” she says, sitting next to me.
“It’s fine. They’ll need me sooner or later,” I reply. They actually don’t, but denial has worked for me before. Whisk sighs and drapes a wing across my back in an attempt to comfort me. I simply keep my position, and stare off into the screen of the TV. Things will get better...
Meanwhile
Celestia groans as Luna bangs her head on the dinner table. “One. Simple. Damn. Order,” Luna voices between each bang.
“Luna, the guards are trying their best at the front,” Celestia replies, setting down the report from the guards.
“Sister, they managed to deplete half of their ammunition of arrows on birds. Bucking birds!” She yells.
“True, but-“ Celestia stops as a guard enters the room with a letter in hoof.
“A letter from Manehatten ma’am, from the Checkpoint,” he announces. Celestia sighs and takes it. What the hell is wrong now? She opens it and reads.
Your Majesty,
It is with great pride and satisfaction that I have to tell you that the nuisance under the name of Anonymous is now unaffiliated with the Manehatten Checkpoint’s reputation as of today. I also managed to-
Celestia sighs deeply, not even trying to finish the letter. She hands it to Luna, who stopped her head banging long enough to look at the contents. Luna simply breathes in sharply before ripping the paper in half. “May we get the axe?” Luna asks calmly.
“The battle axe?”
“No, the other one.”
“Do you mean the axe you used to execute ponies accused with high treason during the Dark Times?”
“Yes, that one.”
“...No, I’ll have a chat with him myself, though your way is very tempting.” With that, Celestia teleports out.
Sergeant Buff locks up the office as he finishes up closing the border. He cannot believe the absolute ridiculousness of everyone here. He had to find a substitute for the passport inspection office, who was barely capable of doing his job. Then, two other guards came in to complain about the decision to fire the ape earlier. What else could go wrong?
“Seargeant,” he hears behind him. He groans.
“What in Tartarus-“ he turns to face the speaker, finding it to be Celestia. He yelps like a filly before coughing to recompose himself.
“Sergeant, I received a letter about Mr Anonymous’ recent dismissal,” she says. He straightens up and nods.
“Yes, I believe it is a wise decision to cut the excessive weight from our workload here at the border,” he states. Celestia hums.
“I see. However, I believe you are wrong about him being ‘excessive weight.’ I believe him to be rather valuable,” she says. The sergeant bursts out laughing, but stops when Celestia looks at him sternly. “This is not a laughing matter Seargeant.”
“Princess, if I may, he is of no actual use. He refuses to follow my commands, and he has no respect for authority,” the sergeant complains. Celestia nods.
“They are valid points, and I cannot force you to take him back,” Celestia acknowledges. “However, I strongly advise you to find him and get him back.”
“I will not go to that stupid ape-“
“Human,” she corrects. He clears his throat.
“I will not go to that ape and apologize for correctly assessing that he is not of actual value here,” He firmly says. Celestia sighs.
“I did not ask you to apologize to him. I only advise you to get him back here,” she says. He scoffs.
“What makes you think he’d do any good here? He managed to get through all three strikes already.” Celestia smirks.
“Is that so? Tell you what, I will give you an entire week to improve the efficiency of the Border. If Anon was as ‘useless’ as you claim, you should have no problem in this task,” she says. “If you manage to improve it in the slightest, I’ll leave you alone on this matter. However, if you fail, you must consider taking Anon back. I will keep coming back to ask you to reconsider as well.”
“... Is this an order?” The sergeant asks.
“No, it is a deal you can refuse,” Celestia answers honestly.
“... Fine, I’ll show you how much more efficient I can be!” The sergeant says cockily. “In fact-“ he stops to pull out a document. Celestia looks at it as he jabbers on. “This order will be the first step to improve-“
“Sergeant, this is literally illegal,” Celestia interrupts. He stops and looks at the paper. It’s the one Anon had written ‘fuck you’ on.
“How?” The sergeant asks.
“The property you asked for is legally owned by those individuals, thus making it private property we would have to get grants for. I assume this is something Anon had denied?”
“B-but we gave them the property! We should be able to take it back!” The sergeant complains.
“It is against the law, so to do such an action should land you in prison, stripping you of any military status you have,” Celestia says. “In fact, this is good incentive to put you in prison right now if you had granted other requests that fall under this category of legalities,” she continues. The sergeant’s face went pale. He silently thanks Celestia that he hasn’t mailed any of the requests yet. “Even worse, since you are now the temporary Border Manager, If you had made this request, it would have been considered illegal as well.” The sergeant nods.
“Y-Yes it would have...” He quietly comments. Celestia smiles.
“Now, try to do good work sergeant. I will arrive everyday to examine your progress. Please try not to fail,” Celestia encourages, teleporting out. The sergeant waits a moment before breathing out a sigh. This is going to be a long week...
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Justice is delicious.
I'm not one for swearing much, but Sgt. Bull (there's a reason I'm calling him that) done fucked up royally...and royalty proved it.
Although I am curious to see how things would go down if Luna talked to him.
Karma. Is a. Biiiiiiaaaaaaaattcchh.
I hope Anon keeps the babies.
Unless you are numbered 40 to one
Your force shall soon be undone
9606188
I don't think Luna was joking about that axe, but that's just my opinion.
At least Anon gets to take a break. Sgt. Bull is probably going to get court-martialed before the end of the week.
9606350
That's probably how the next chapter will start.
9572975
No, actually, you don't need guns to have bullets. The term "bullet" is actually a general term for a form of projectile ammunition. Some objects used as ammunition for a Sling (or slingshot) is a bullet whether it's a small stone, a bead, a marble, etc, just as if you throw a pencil from your hand or an arrow from a bow it can be called a missile.
He’s gonna have to beg and it’s gping to be delicious
Well, shit.
He is going to have a bad week.
Ok I know ponys even in the show for the most part lack common sense so I can suspend my disbelief quite far in fanfic and/or in the show but.......HOW THE HELL DOES A DECENTLY RANKED MILITARY PONY, A SERGEANT TO BE SPECIFIC NOT KNOW A BASIC LAW IN HIS OWN COUNTRY!!!
Not bashing you (the author) in fact I'm quite enjoying the story so far especially Luna, Anon and there friendship, I'm bashing the character for being beyond stupid
I'm really curious about how is the pony race still alive.
9606519
Magic
That sargent is fucked
Great story by the way love it
I enjoyed it till the end of this chapter. You to nice, ya asshole.
Eh, interesting addition with the orphans. I'm probably in the minority here who isn't the biggest fan of kids, and just thoroughly enjoys a couples interaction without them in the mix though. Just hoping Anon just finds a happy home for them. It would certainly avoid the 'we're not ready but HEY HERE'S KIDS trope' with a couple.
That writing device gets really tiring and worn out, at least for me. Furthermore, he and Whisk also have a lot to work out and...well... do in life before that pretty significant milestone. Good on you Anon for knowing your limits.
But amusing development as always, and further cementing the eternal question of how some ponies haven't self-destructed.
...and why Celestia isn't on constant migraine medications from how her subjects live and breath without her assistance.
9606543
Well, like how it’s depicted here, he DOESN’T want kids yet. He knows he’s not ready yet. I’ll let that sit.
9606559
And I find it very admirable that you wrote him with that self awareness. Many times I've read stories where the characters don't even bother to self reflect in any way- so, well done.
Oh man I so want to see that pony having to suck up his useless pride and apologize... Hnnf please let it happen...
Is it weird for me to restrain myself from cursing out loud to whatever the Sargent says?
9606491
National Security supercedes established laws and morals, at least according to those in ranking power.
Racist ponies are racist.
Ooo ho ho ho... Sargent, you are fucked. Detrix?
Detrix: Yes sir?
Get the flamenwerfer.
Detrix: *smiles a maniacal grin* yes sir! *looks over his shoulder* HANZ GET ZE FLAMENWERER! VERE HAVING BBQ TONIGHT!!!
I thought anon was given authority over the checkpoint and military acquisition at the checkpoint. and the military itself was to do its own thing completely separate. Wouldn't that mean that apart from Celestia telling him he got a strike, the sergeants rules are bullshit.
Also if that's the case, why the hell would you mouth off to the guy who has to sign off on everything?! That technically means he's got higher authority.
9606666
Inter arma enim silen leges. "For among [times of] arms, the laws fall mute", but it is more popularly rendered as "In times of war, the law falls silent."
But man that Sergeant just seemed like he would fit right in with the Titans in Mobile Suit Zeta Gundam...
Anon be like
15 Bits says at least one pony dies in one week. Actually, I'd say around 5-1,000.
9606697
Brother, get the Flamer.
The Heavy Flamer
Heeeey, Anon finaly got some free time!
With the boatload of money he earned, it should not be a problem anyway.
Anon should have kept going on the mic. He probably could have gone for a full min or two before someone tried to stop him.
9606943
Huh yeah
For Anon getting fired might actually help him Exponentially
Hey has Literal piles of gold, a girlfriend who may need help at her bar, and MAYBE turning into a family man
If the boarder checkpoint do need him back He may just say no...he'll probably laugh and say no...
Lets see if something different will happen
Eyy your not dead!
9606988
I know right!?
really awesome chapter and that part with the axe really got me 10/10 laughter points, pinkie would be so proud
9606844
9606697
I’m gonna need some heavy flamers for this heresy!
I figured it wouldn’t take long for things to go to shit without Anon, but that was impressively fast.
9607060
pics.me.me/list-of-khornate-massacres-from-wikipedia-the-free-encyclopedia-this-32523794.png
9606666
Maybe in our world witch is for the most part centered around who can kill who the most efficient and effective way and who has money and who doesn't, but in their world Celestia clearly states that that is not the case, monarchy and all that, you're ether stuck with a moral less tyrant, or someone who will draw the line on what needs to be done for national security (in fiction anyway)
What can you do
i.pinimg.com/736x/95/be/ac/95beacd43e7ca93d86fb9032ab455f27--princess-celestia-my-little-pony-friendship.jpg
9606543
That is an excellent question... Maybe she hides her meds in cakes?
I think Celestia wasted a good chance to tell the Sargeant about Luna's executioner axe.
Really enjoying this amazing story and can’t wait to see even more! Bring us more to satisfy our needs for good stories....or else. Keep up the good work!
9607152
BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD!
SKULLS FOR THE SKULL THRONE!
BUTTER FOR THE KHORNE BREAD!
9607706
I don't think they have covered how advanced Equestrian psychiatric care is in Equestria beyond Luna and her duties of warding off nightmares. Cozy Glow has to also want help before any actual progress could effectively be made...
9606564
Sadly others don't seem to possess the same self awareness. Personally im hoping he refuses to return, given his employer has repeatedly fallen short on her standards. Given past events I would expect her trying to get him back would involve threats, humiliation and demeaning him.
9608348
I think you replied to the wrong comment my good sir
Or I'm totally mis-reading it. (a high possibility!
9608369
The princesses are angry because he was fired, but didn't much care that he was run out of ponyville, qnd forced him into "therapy" with twilight despite her being both the cause of his troubles and unrepentant. Plus the repetitive genital abuse of gettting hit in the groin weekly by a sack of gold. They care now (apparently) but didn't much care before how he felt or thought.
9608481
OH!
Yeah, I totally agree. A genuine apology and realization would be nice I think. Maybe an awareness of 'oh. he might come off as a jerk, but he's really not that bad....oops.' He's been shortchanged so many times, it must get agrivating.
....Actually, if he just eloped with Whisk to go on a cruise and relax for a while, that wouldn't surprise me.
'But we need you at XYZ'
'Tough cookies.'
9606697
You misspelled his rank and I still agree with you.