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Chapter 1: The First Dose6,677 words
Chapter 2: No Introductions3,088 words
Chapter 3: Chicken in the Grass2,476 words
Chapter 4: Making a Few Acquaintances 5,096 words
Chapter 5: Vitamins, Nutrients, and Ponies You Live With7,226 words
Chapter 6: Headlines and Horses7,658 words

Chapter 6: Headlines and Horses

My Daily Dose of Carotene

Chapter 6: Headlines and Horses

By: Stillmatic

So, to put things in a clear and concise way, I was basically bored out of my mind. Staple Crop, Carrot Top’s little sister, was sitting next to me and enjoying a smoothie I bought her with the money I stole from that doctor. It looked good. So good, apparently, that she had to stop, sit down, and then drink it. I believe it was mango-flavored.

See, I developed a theory as to why these pony things can grab things with those hooves of theirs. Hooves are flat. Flat. So you might wonder, how do they even go about their daily lives when they apparently can only grab things with their mouths? At first I assumed that only those unicorn ones could live a fulfilling life because they got magic. Wouldn’t be surprised, but that’s not the point. The problem with that is that ponies can grab things with their hooves, so what I think goes on is that they have some weird-ass magic in their hooves that helps them grab what they want to grab.

Crazy stuff.

You probably don’t give a damn about this though. Neither do I. But I did notice Staple was having trouble walking on three legs and grabbing the smoothie, so the younger ones probably develop that crap as they get older.

Which once again returns me to my previous statement: bored out of my mind. You know I'd have to be if I was coming up with stuff like this.

Anyway, we were sitting at a park bench, minding our own business as time was crawling by like an anorexic cripple out of their wheelchair. Yeah. That slow. I was still a bit messed up from the coke, so with my thoughts racing every second, my heart pumping unhealthily fast, and my right leg jumping in place, I sat there, eternally tormented.

Or, at least until I saw something. Turns out some guy was sitting next to us the entire time... Wait. Two guys... No, actually, two guys, and two little girl ponies. Not counting Staple, of course. She was just chilling and sipping, they were talking some unimportant drabble about crap no one cares about.

The two males had their faces shoved right into the afternoon edition of the local cage-liner. Why's this important? Because lo and behold, guess whose picture graced the front page. Three guesses.

Screw it, it was me. Again. Twice in one day. Let's not even consider the fact that whoever makes these can somehow churn out stories like nothing, but focus on the fact that I'm somehow famous for something totally blown out of proportion. The picture was of me when I was posing on that stump with a foot on it. I gotta admit, they did snap my good side.

But the headline... The headline was something else.

"Sex Defender-"

Hilarious.

"-Prevents Total Collapse of Ponyville School System."

I always did love the education system, even if it was a mess.

I couldn't make out much more than that, but I did see another story way below it titled: "The Dangers of Psychotropic Radiation and You!"

Needless to say, I found myself slightly interested in what they had to say about me. So I did the most courteous thing I could possibly think of at that moment.

"Hey buddy," I started, "You done with that paper?"

Staple was watching intently at this exchange of vocal information, still drinking her smoothie away.

A guy's voice responded with, "Just about. Interesting news we've been having today."

He pulled the newspaper away and I finally got to see this guy. Guy-pony with a brownish coat, some darker hair, and some fancy clothes. Nice clothes, honestly. But that wasn't the end of it. Not by a mile.

A more familiar voice answered, "Definitely. You see me in the picture on the front? I'm famous now."

Brass Buttons. By some ungodly force in this universe, we somehow crossed paths again, despite seeing each other less than twenty minutes ago. Which would also mean that someone's written and printed an entire newspaper in even less time...

Anway, Brass Buttons. This guy already got on my nerves for being so chummy with me, but as I sat there weighing my options, I realized I'd rather have an unnecessary ego boost about being mistakenly called a hero instead. Who knew.

So as Buttons pulled away his paper and the first one snorted at his comment, they finally noticed who asked to borrow theirs. Yep. Me. Buttons looked like he was about to rocket out of his seat if one of those girl-ponies didn't put a hoof on his leg to stop him. He gave her a grateful nod and motioned to me.

"This is the guy I was telling you about, Rich!"

Well, well, well. His name is Richard. That's a bit different.

I expected Rich to size me up or something, but he just stuck a hoof out and smiled, "Pleasure to meet you. I'm Filthy Rich, one of Ponyville's local business magnates."

I shook his hoof, "Lyor Coleman. I'm one of Ponyville's local heroes, apparently."

"You bet!" Buttons encouraged. "He's been doing good things around this place, I tell you. Superior things!"

He's probably right, but that didn't stop Filthy Rich from asking questions.

"So, how long have you been in Ponyville?"

"Consciously? Less than a day. Funny how many things can happen in the span of a few hours. Even how much of a story, really."

"Of course, of course." He pulled his eyes from me to address a slurping sound. Staple sat there, eyes wide as she viewed the exchange between adults. Amazing. "Hello there, Staple Crop. How are you and your sister today?"

The "word for a young, female pony" stopped drinking the smoothie and smiled a huge-ass smile, "Great! Carrot just got done with your shipment, Mr. Rich! And now she's friends with Mr. Lyor too!" Good lord. "I think they may be special somepony's, but-"

I yanked the smoothie away, stopping her mid-sentence. She forgot it all before I even handed it back. Even I can recognize some ambiguous accusation like that. Not gonna let a rumor like that get around, even if I am going to get the hell out of here as soon as possible.

Rich looked amused, "So, are you her foalsitter, then? And where is Carrot Top, actually?"

"Carrot Top just asked me to go and pick her sister up while she talked with her roommate."

Some word in the sentence caught his attention, "Oh? How is Derpy?"

"Interesting," I replied, not really knowing any other word.

Buttons elbowed his friend with a grin, but Rich played it off like a real gentleman. And when I say "like a real gentleman", I mean knocked his friend over. Funny how different cultures have different contexts.

"Hey! Watch it, Daddy!"

I looked around the guy-ponies and saw what I'm now guessing are their daughters. One was grayish with glasses, the other was basically pink with other colors that no one ever likes including into a mix. She had some royalty crap on her head, but that's unimportant. They were both looking at their dads with looks of bemusement. Guy things like hitting your friend or busting his chops seemed to universally go under the radar when it comes to females. Not that I expected otherwise.

Buttons' eyes lit up, "Oh! I forgot to introduce you to my daughter when you gave your speech at the schoolhouse." He nudged his daughter to the ground and towards me, "Say hello to Mr. Lyor, Silver Spoon!"

She seemed mildly interested in me, "Hello, Mr. Lyor."

Rich did the exact same thing, and his daughter was in front of me a second later, blowing a lock of hair away, "Hello, Mr. Lyor."

Rich chuckled, "Diamond Tiara can get a tad fickle with new ponies, you see."

"Daaaaaaaaaad!"

Not wanting to get involved with some familial bullshit, I said the only thing that would distract them, "What's up, kids?"

They immediately broke off their pretty passive faces and looked at each other, then me. Collective gasp from both. Suddenly, from Diamond Tiara, "You're from the city?!"

Once again, amazing. Why this was such a big thing was getting weird.

"Yeah. A pretty decent city, too."

"You sound like you're from Manehattan," Silver Spoon observed loudly.

"Nah, I'm from Boston." Best city ever, mainly because it keeps coming up in conversation. "Best city ever, mainly because it keeps coming up in conversation."

Yep.

"Where's that?" she asked. "Is it near Trottingham?"

"Nah. It's over in Massachusetts. Not the best state, but it's okay." I never was much of a fan of northern places. "Hey, are you three in the same class?" Probably a stupid question seeing as though it's a single schoolhouse, which somehow manages to teach all grades apparently.

Staple nodded, "Yep! I think we sit on opposite sides of the room though."

"Why don't you three go play or something like that? I'm just gonna read the paper for a bit."

They did leave, but they didn't play. More like head over somewhere nearby and start talking shit about their classmates or some similar stuff.

Good for them.

Rich handed me the paper and I started skimming through the article about me. It was really well-written, I'll give it that. Sure, it was filled with blatant lies about me, but at least they were positive ones. For example, I was apparently master orator and philosopher who came from a forest of wisdom.

Apparently.

Moving on, I noticed other things that seemed out of place. I'll just start listing the cumulative things that I've done to help the fine, but stupidly named town of Ponyville:

1. As the headline said, prevented the collapse of the education system.
2. Chopped down a tree and use the stump to give the greatest speech in town history.
3. Defended the rights of all sexually repressed males in the country.
4. Gave all of the children reason to pursue higher education beyond what was expected of them from society.
5. Defeated a Diamond Dog invader force.
6. Caused a decline in rapist activity nationwide through #5.
7. Set precedent for no-tolerance policies for sexual harassment for law enforcement.
8. And this one felt very strange to read, but I also seem to have tamed a wild Cockatrice. I feel like that's gonna affect me sometime later, if the others don't beforehand.

... So to put things in very basic terms, I was apparently a person who was both heroic and wise. Heroic? No way. Wise? I'd settle for cunning, but even that might be pushing it most days. Still, I was, in some weird way, flattered and confused. It'd probably be best to ignore it entirely.

My mind drifted briefly to what Carrot Top and Derpy might be doing or talking about. I was pulled away, just about literally, by a tug on my pant leg. I looked down to see another one of the girl-ponies. White coat, and some two-tone hair. Did I already meet her? Can't remember.

"Mr. Lyor?" I nodded. "Rarity sent me to deliver this to you!"

I don't know how I didn't notice it before, but my shirt and suit coat were being dragged around inside of a plastic bag thing with a hanger sticking out. At least they didn't get dirty. I picked up my clothes, tossed them on, stood up, readjusting everything, and sat down as the universe realigned itself and resumed its order. It felt good. So good, I did this.

"Here, kid." I handed her five of the gold coins, "That's for you." I then pushed another ten into them, "And that's for your sister doing a good job. Tell her I said 'thanks'."

Apparently, a five coin tip was a lot of money to little kids, because she bolted away fast as hell. I shrugged and started reading an article on the applications of thermocline transducers, whatever the hell those were. Once again, I was interrupted.

"Hey Lyor, that guy over there looks like he's talking about you. Keeps looking over here and whispering to his friend."

That caught my attention. And not in a good way.

Carrot Top

"Derpy, pleeeaaasse. Can't we just drop this?"

I was practically begging Derpy for the past half hour to just forget whatever assumptions she was making and talk about something normal already. Granted, normal wasn't exactly something I could use to describe conversations with her, but normal for her at least. But she was stuck on talking about Lyor, who just woke up today for Celestia's sake! Kinda funny how much can happen the in span of a few hours though...

Still, I wish she'd drop this. It was downright awkward.

"Not until we deconstruct his wording and figure out what he meant!"

I stared at her for a second, "Doctor Bleeding Heart said he was in shock most of the time before he came in. He was missing a part of his head, Derpy! How could Lyor have possibly been thinking straight? And another thing! Nopony even knows him that well yet, so why are we jumping to any conclusions ? Especially one like this!"

"But-"

"This is all probably weirding him out way too much. That can't be good for his health."

Even from something like that, she got encouraged. Well, encouraged enough to press her hooves together at the side of her face and squeal like a schoolfilly, "See! You do care!"

Unlike her, my hooves were rubbing my temples. This was getting out of hand.

"We've already established that I care enough about his health that I waited by his hospital bed for a week, alright? Whhhyyy do you think there's something more to this when there isn't?"

She shrugged, "I thought you two would look cute together." I groaned out loud. "And besides, don't you think it's time to move on from that troublemaker?"

"Caramel wasn't a 'troublemaker', Derpy. He just didn't have any social etiquette and that's why he ended up losing potential friends. If there was a more oblivious stallion..."

For a quick second, I found myself thinking about Lyor and Staple, and what they were doing.

Lyor

"You happen to know this scumbag, by any chance?"

Now, let me make this clear to you: I said that loud enough to draw attention from ponies at least thirty feet away. It was obnoxious and boisterous and completely unnecessary, but I'll just chalk it up to my amazing ingenuity.

You might ask yourself, "Why would you make it so obvious, Lyor?"

The answer is really simple: "Because I can."

Rich was confused, but Buttons didn't seem bothered in the least. God knows why, but he seemed like he was just waiting for something to go down. Totally like a cop.

Anyway, by saying that, I got the two schmucks to look over towards us, jaws a bit loose. Hate that look so much. It's very birdbath-ish. So, lemme just give a really quick description of these guys.

One was basically a carbon-copy of that doctor I stole from with the exception of his ass-marking being some stupid apple bullshit. The other was way bigger and really red with some ugly freckles and blondish hair. Hell, I have red hair and even I don't have freckles. Then again, I'm not really that pale, which makes me wonder what this guy's excuse was when he's goddamn red. All in all, they looked just like any of these other pony things. Kind of expected, honestly. They all look the same.

The big red one finally broke out of his catatonic stupor of thought displacement and realized what I called him, then called back to me, "Ya'll better watch yourself, pardner. Ah don't take kindly to the words y'er usin'."

Of course, I didn't give a shit.

"Of course, I don't give a shit." Thankfully, the kids were off somewhere else and didn't hear me. But he sure as hell did. He seems really sensitive.

"We also don't take kindly ta those sorta words 'round here neither," he said, starting to come closer to us. The other one he was with was practically hiding behind him.

I raised an eyebrow, "'Neither?' Who the hell taught you proper grammar? A pitchfork?" I turned to Buttons and Rich briefly for council, "You guys seem educated past kindergarten. Your schools let kids fail without learning how to speak real sentences or something? Hicks'll be hicks, I guess."

That really riled him up. Like, severely.

He practically puffed a cloud of smoke out of his bulging-ass nostrils towards my direction, "Now just hold on a darn minute, pardner. I'ma honest-ta-goodness, apple-pickin', hard-workin' stallion doin' his best." Big Red looked smug, "City-slicker like ya'll wouldn't know nothing 'bout any'a that anyways."

"So you admit to being uneducated trash, then?"

I was tearing him up, apparently. Brass was grinning ear-to-ear at this point and Rich seemed to just watch this stuff go on in his own amused, little state. The big one, on the other damn hand, was so pissed off that he became even redder, by some weird turn of events I had no part in. Honestly, can I even be blamed that this escalated to this point? He was talking shit about me with his butt-buddy. That's more than enough reason for me to retaliate.

"Best not say somethin' ya might regret," he threatened, poking me chest pretty hard.

Thank god I still had the vest on. Still, I was not amused by his bullshit. So I stood up, which basically meant I was now taller than him than I was sitting down, and also more intimidating. I briefly considered raising my arms as high as possible to see if I could scare him off. Unfortunately, he didn't back down, despite the pony behind him tugging at his tail in a crappy attempt to pull him back.

I thumbed to the individual in question, "That your gay lover? I thought your kind fucked their own sisters, not their brothers."

Now, it was at that particular moment I dealt the blow I was saving. This could have done one of two things: shamed him into trying to disprove me and fall apart; or make him really, really angry.

Obviously, with my luck, it was the latter.

His eyes practically shot out, his neck veins were all bulgy, and I could tell this guy was getting overly aggressive. I was prepared though. That thing on the end of their legs shot out for a gut-shot, but I swerved away at the last second. It went straight through the back of the park bench though, so there's that.

Now knowing that this guy could possibly punch a hole through my skull, I made some distance and ignored the growing crowd around us once those pieces he punched off sliced right through the side of an apple-cart and mashed the products into sauce. I tossed my jacket on top of a random pony and yanked out my stiletto, ready for some one-on-one action.

"Ah warned ya, ya varmint! Now y'er gonna git your beatin'!"

He was thoroughly mad, but I knew I had it under control. All I need to do was slice him like I did those dogs and he'd run away crying to his mom. Who he probably gets into bed with too. Just saying.

But about that action... I didn't actually get much of that, mainly because he somehow managed to charge at me, flip around as I was about to dodge, and then somehow kick my hand and dislodge my stiletto from my hand, which then went flying into a helium tank used by a mime-looking pony that was filling balloons. Needless to say, the thing went flying upwards from being punctured near the bottom and basically made like a missile and went into a house-shaped cloud in the sky that I just noticed. The cloud promptly exploded, while my stiletto landed safely on someone's roof nearby.

Also, my hand was broken now.

I cursed loudly and booted the approaching pony square in the face like a gent. It reeled back for a second, which gave me the chance to boot it again, then another time. By now, it's nose was pretty bloody while my hand was swelling like a mobster tossed into a river, which was pretty bad. He was also even madder now. Go figure.

With my focus broken for that one second, he managed to use his rear legs to do a double-kick against my chest. Thankfully, my vest cushioned some of the blow. Not-so-thankfully, I'm pretty sure at least one or two my ribs was now broken. Which also hurt as well, I might add. Still, I wasn't planning on giving up just yet.

Mind you, I was thinking this as I was looking up from the ground, a bit of blood get closer to my mouth, with one of his horse-foot-things resting on my chest, probably ready to crush it entirely. I might have bit off more than I could chew this time, but I knew it wasn't over. How, you might ask for the fourth time? Simple.

The cavalry came to my rescue.

Of course, when I say cavalry, what I really mean is that god damn chicken-lizard hybrid sped towards us out of nowhere and made the entire crowd around us start to freak out. It was clucking like mad, distracting Big Red long enough for him to remove his foot thing. It only got half way though, because this chicken was doing some crazy shit at the moment. Like, its eyes were glowing red directly towards the jackass who knocked me over.

I shimmied away and managed to get myself up despite the pain (slipped myself something when no one was looking). Anyway, the "cockatrice" was staring off with a really scared Big Red. Serves him right. Crazy asshole who is apparently frightened by chicken-lizards that seem pretty harmless.

Or, they seemed pretty harmless. That assumption was made way before I saw this one, and I seriously mean this, turning the doodoo head to stone. I looked back at Brass and he was rocking back and forth with anticipation. The hick pony struggled to break free, but that wasn't doing jack shit. He was really afraid now, and seeing as though he couldn't move because of the creeping stone crap on his body, I decided to rub it in his face.

"That's what you get, you brainless, uneducated, worthless trash."

Extremely harsh by their standards, considering the crowd seemed really uneasy by what I said. Still, I've always been one to push my luck like an asshole. I was going to pry some info from him while he was still alive.

I kneeled to his height and snapped my fingers in front of his face, "Why were you two talking about me?"

His frightened eyes snapped to me quick, not losing the fear for a second, "C-Caramel said ya'll were foolin' 'round with his gal!"

So the little shit, who seemed to have disappeared, was jealous because he thought I was apparently trying to hit on his woman? Absolutely stupid.

"Who's his gal, huh? Come on, you're wasting your own time here," I reminded him, flicking the stony surface of his chest. The stuff was almost a third up his neck by now.

"Carrot Top!" He was about to yell out for help, I think, before someone shouted towards him.

"Big Mac!" Out of nowhere, some yellowish pony sped up to the pony named after a burger. She was looking at different parts of him, desperate enough that I think she was trying to find some place to break off the stone. I mean, wouldn't that shatter him into little bits or something? I thought that's how it worked.

I looked down at my little buddy and saw him clucking a few times. His eyes get a little less brighter, and the weird ass shit going on to the burger-pony slowed down a bit. Him and the other pony were talking really quietly to each other, but I could tell they were practically defecating themselves where they stood with how screwed he was. And it was here that I jumped into even more action.

Using my foot, I scooped away the bird-snake from having its head caved in by a kick from Yellow. Also, Yellow had a cowboy hat on for some reason, but that was my focus for only, like, one and a half seconds. She looked like she was about to start crying, and I'm sure the frustration of having her chance of saving this schmuck sent flying out the window didn't help much either. I picked up the cockatrice and held it tight so she wouldn't be able to snatch it away. Speaking of which, no matter where I moved the little shit, his eyes were glued to burger horse. Creepy.

"Please!" I was pulled out of my rambling thoughts only to be stared at by some pitiful, cowboy hat-wearing, yellow pony. She was already in tears at this point, and I still couldn't figure out why she even gave a damn about this guy. "Ya gotta call off y'er cockatrice! Big Mac di'nt deserve this!"

Now, I'm not usually one to argue, but he sure as hell did. It's incredibly rude to talk about someone right in front of them, especially if you do a terrible job of doing it secretly. But as I looked at the way the circle of ponies around were staring at me anxiously, I realized that turning this guy into stone would probably be a bad idea.

Rule number six of business: Good PR always leads to good profits. Nerve-stapling is a big no-no too.

So basically, I would definitely win some enemies by killing him off. Figures. Then again, killing someone just for something as small and simple as what just happened doesn't seem that smart of an idea in the first place. Guess I just jumped the gun on this one.

"Alright," I started, tapping the little bastard I was holding on the head to get his attention, "You did your job well. Now reverse it so I don't have to deal with the bullshit afterwards."

It clucked a few times, and I seriously attempted to see if I could understand any emotions being conveyed by the damn thing. I didn't pick up on anything, so I just covered its eyes until they stopped glowing. A few more clucks and it just sat there in my arms while the pony named after a burger basically passed out as the weird stone stuff wore off of him. The cowgirl was cradling him and as I made my way to leave this weird ass situation, I heard her mutter something about "what the city-slicker did ta ya."

Bah, I was just defending myself. How did I know this? Well, all of the fine but gullible citizens around me seemed to believe so. There were a few that actually cheered at my supposed ability to command wildlife. Probably another story for the papers. But seriously, this was way too much drama for my tastes. I'd rather avoid these sort of situations if I can. Knowing my luck though, I'll probably end up in a whole lot more like them. Maybe because these horses were way more dramatic and paranoid than most people ever would be. They become very skittish when there's more than a few of them in one place, I think.

Weird.

Anyway, Brass Buttons came up to me as I plucked my jacket from a swooning pony, put down the bird-thing, and threw it on.

He was grinning like an idiot, which seemed fitting mostly, "Holy cannoli! I was skeptical of what they said in the paper about you and the cockatrice, but now everyone will know not to question it!" The guy waved a fan he plucked out of nowhere towards his face, "Jeez, we should find a bookie for this sort of thing. I can see it now, 'Big Mac versus the Cock Tamer!'"

What the hell.

"That doesn't exactly have a ring to it," I pointed out. "Or sound appealing. At all."

Rich smirked a smirky smirk and nodded his finely groomed head, "I'll have to agree on that one. Though, I will admit the concept of training cockatrices to fight each other sounds like it could be profitable if properly regulated."

And somehow, I had just brought cock-fighting to this world. Only it was a lot more fucked up in this case.

If I was bothered, I didn't show it. Instead, I thumbed back towards the somewhat unnecessary calamity that just went, "Who were those dopes anyway? Anyone important?"

While I did expect Rich to make a response, it was Brass that spouted out first, "Hardly. I mean, the only Apple from that family I can actually respect is probably Granny Smith. Applejack too, for the most part."

Filthy Rich shrugged. "It isn't as if there's anything wrong with the family," he mentioned off-handedly, "but I'm normally only ever willing to do business with those two. Never Big Macintosh. He's completely unreasonable about pricing his produce."

"I take it that Applejack is the one with the hat?" They nodded. "She sure seemed upset. Like bad-"

I was cut off by a tugging on my arm sleeve. Normally, I'd backhand anyone trying that sort of stuff from behind, mostly because I'll state again that this is very expensive material and I don't want people's grubby hands all over it. Of course, these things didn't have hands, and I know I'd have to eventually ask what the hell those things were called, but the only reason I didn't react negatively was because I assumed that it might have been one of the kids doing it. So I turned around.

Lo and behold, it was the same damn Equestrian we were talking about. Her hat was tilted down enough that I couldn't see the upper parts of her face, but I did notice a bit of saliva on my sleeve.

That bitch.

Still, I didn't need to get in a fight again, especially now that I remember that I had a fractured rib, and broken hand and some sort of monster following me. I'll just head to that doctor again for the third time today once I find my stiletto. But enough of that. This pony wanted my attention, and now she would have it. I just hope she didn't surprise me by trying to kill me or something as a form of revenge.

She pushed her hat up a bit, just enough for me to see her green eyes as she stared up at me, "... Ah... Ah'm sorry fer Big Mac attackin' ya like that. He ain't normally so quick to fight somepony and he's usually so calm." I could almost feel like Rich and Brass wanted to snicker. This "Applejack" continued her sob story, "Still, n'matter what either of ya said, it wasn't right fer it ta get that far." She held out that damn thing towards me, "From tha entire Apple family, Ah apologize fer causing ya trouble."

Such a nice and sincere apology. Almost a shame that my response was stopping mid-handshake and asking, "What do you call these things?"

It took a few moments before she realized that what I said wasn't even acknowledging what she said but going onto some other shit. Applejack looked at our handshake and furrowed her brow, "Er, a hoofshake, partner? Ya know, like somethin' to seal a deal or make amends or such."

She was obviously confused, but I didn't really care so much because me not knowing what they were called was bugging me like hell. "I meant the thing I just grabbed. You guys walk on them and stuff."

"It's a hoof, sugarcube. All ponies got 'em."

I barely even noticed. Wowzers.

"Huh. I probably should have known that."

"Hope ya don't mind me sayin', stranger," she started, "but ya stick out like a sore hoof in Ponyville."

I'm not sure if she was being sarcastic or not, but she was sorta smiling. I think. Hell if I know.

I idly fiddled with one of my cufflinks and made sure it was straight, "Well, that's a bit understandable seeing as though I've been in a coma for around two weeks or something. First day out of bed."

"Coma?" I heard coming from behind. Rich looked curious, but raised his hooves apologetically and backed off when he realized he was butting in.

I don't know why he did. Wasn't like I was having a private conversation at the moment, and he seemed to have his head of his damn shoulders or neck or whatever the hell these Equestrians would use in this case. Still, I might as well answer his question.

"Oh yeah, it was some wild stuff." I sat on this ugly rock across from them and Applejack took my original seat.

Ass.

Anyway, I began my tale of utterly mundane occurences occurring within expected related occurrence ratios, or something, "A'ight, so this is what happened." They scooted closer in anticipation. "I got ambushed at my apartment and shot up pretty badly. I probably should have died right there, but obviously that wasn't enough. So they threw me off my balcony just to make sure, which was probably somewhere near seventy stories high."

"Whoa," Brass muttered. "That sounds like a serious shindig."

"Y'all got shot? With what?"

Ah yes, why exactly would I assume that any of these horses-slash-ponies-slash-whatever would know what being shot means? Hell, I just got attacked by a hick and he didn't even have a gun on him.

I should know, I didn't sell him one.

Before I could answer, I heard flapping and then something land on my shoulders. I was about to seriously bug out until I heard some clucking going on. I turned my head to see that damn cockatrice perched up left of my head, with its big ass tail resting on my other shoulder. I had to admire its sense of balance, but I quickly warned it that any bird crap on my body or suit would result in any applicable body parts of itself being turned into a delicious and nutritious meal for one. It clucked a few times and seemed to go to sleep after that.

Jackass.

"Anyway," I continued, "being shot means someone put a projectile through you with a weapon spits out metal and lead. It hurts a little. So, they tossed me from seventy stories, and the next thing I know, I'm on dirt and rocks. Which wasn't exactly the pavement I wasn't expecting, but sorta expecting, because I wasn't expecting to live, let alone expect to see the expected pavement of a street that I was, I assume from their point of view, expected to land on. Understand so far?"

Brass scratched his chin, but remained silent, so I went on, "Next thing I know, some weird looking black horse was talking to me while I was bleeding all over the ground. Forgot who, but I think someone said her name was Nightmare Spoon or something. I ended up shooting her in the head and crawling away."

I could tell the three were pretty speechless. Applejack especially, for some reason. It didn't last long though.

"Ya killed Nightmare Moon? That's a bit much, Ah'd figure. Hard ta believe ta boot!"

I thought on that for a second, "Well... If I managed to live with probably a fifth of my skull missing from a gunshot, I'm sure she could too. Well, probably not, actually. Still a mystery how I managed to get as far as I did before Carrot Top saved me."

Hell, it sounded downright fishy. If I weren't me, god forbid, I wouldn't believe me either. But unless my eternal soul is trapped in some childish reincarnation of a youngling's dream of crazy ass shit, which is entirely possible, there must've been something else going on for me to have lived. I mean, I really don't have the sort of endurance or psyche to maintain my own life through a sheer force of will. I tried that once, and it was really tiring.

Which, ironically, ties somewhat into my ideology of accumulating as much money as possible before I die. Which, ironically, I don't plan on doing because dying is a waste of time and there's too much money in this world for me to take to do so any time soon. Which, ironically, still remains a goal even if I'm in a dream or an alternate reality or dimension or world or whatever the hell I'm experiencing is. If you didn't know me, you might think I'd be discouraged from pursuing the lucre considering my situation of being in a completely alien place. If you did know me, you'd wonder why I haven't started selling firearms to the dumbest but financially endowed group I could possibly find. I'm temporarily stuck where I am, though.

Two reasons for that:

First, no product to move. Can't sell a gun that doesn't exist. (Did it once, made the same enemies that threw me from my balcony). I don't even think they have any close to gunpowder or shot or something. Which is bad for business, obviously.

Second, I probably needed a vacation from weaponry for a while now. Believe it or not, I'm only a moderate fan of things that kill people. The real attraction is the money to be made on selling them to people to kill other people who I probably sold to as well. A nifty little cycle, mainly because other groups tend to find these guns after plenty of deaths occur, sell them back to me at low prices so they can afford digging equipment, then buy some guns back at a higher price with diamonds (never gold), and take over other rebel groups and continue the process indefinitely. This happens because no one group lasts absurdly long for several reasons. It's usually in-fighting from kid soldiers hopped up on brown-brown (decent stuff), being exterminated or enslaved by another group.

I went off track by just a tad, so I'll get back on right now.

... Give it a second...

Rich looked mildly surprised, "I still haven't wrapped my head around her wanting to gather wild carrots. They sell well typically, but the danger isn't exactly a part of ideal working conditions."

"She can handle herself pretty well," I answered, shrugging. I decided to lie to help play up her reputation, "She did help me fight off a group of dog things."

"Dog things..?" I could see Applejack wrack her brain for this one, "Hrm... Shoot, ya mean ta tell me y'all beat up a buncha Diamond Dogs?"

"Basically."

Brass grinned, "I bet they left with their tails between their bruised up legs, right, champ?"

Oh boy.

"Not exactly. Carrot Top wanted to be a pacifist about it, but I made sure they weren't going to be getting up."

I let that sink in. "At all."

Sinking... "Ever again."

Sinking more...

"I killed all of them."

Applejack gasped, Brass didn't seem bothered in the least, and Rich was hardly shocked in any sort of way. God damn, he is chill.

In fact, he shrugged for like the fifth time today, "Good riddance." Cold, but admirable.

The only chick amongst us, unfortunately, didn't take well to that, "Whatcha mean, 'good riddance?' Them Dogs were trouble makers fer sure, but killin' 'em? That ain't right, Filthy, and ya know it."

I noticed him grimace at being called his first name, "Applejack, they're detrimental to large swathes of business within Everfree County." He pointed a hoof at her, "You don't feel it because they don't want anything to do with apples because of the Zap-Apples. But what about the gem trade? Or just about any caravan from the Oakleaf region? The Diamond Dogs are becoming a nuisance that are overstaying their welcome."

"Ya get compensated by tha government in full fer any lost product! Ain't a reason in tha world to kill a Diamond Dog, or anythin' fer that matter."

Rich looked like he was explaining some shit to a brick wall, "Compensation, but how exactly do our businesses benefit when they have no products to sell and lose customers because of that? You're being a bleeding heart, Miss Apple."

That reminds me...

"That reminds me..." I now said instead of thought. "I should probably head to that hospital right now. You know, seeing as though my ribs feel like someone liquified them twice and my hand is swelling up pretty bad." It's true, it was roughly the size of a small apple or orange.

I popped a perc, then said a general goodbye and was about to head off when I noticed a fat blob of red and yellow walking beside me. Lo and behold, Applejack was carrying an unconscious asshole on her back. Interestingly enough, she held him up pretty easily, it looked like. I'm assuming horses in my world can carry large shit too, so obviously that would transfer over here too.

Obviously.

Anyway, I was a bit irritated, so I asked, "Why are you taking him there too? All he did was faint."

She rolled her eyes, "'Fraid not, partner. Cockatrices turn things inta stone, and tha stone turns tha thing inta mush. Mah friend Twilight nearly lost 'er life once cause'a the darn things."

More interesting than her ability to hold fat and ugly things, I guess.

"So, they basically turns things into smoothies." Geez, what a place I ended up in. "How the hell is that even treatable?"

Applejack smiled a winning smile, flashing her green eyes and white teeth, "Shucks, yer gonna hafta ask tha doctor 'bout that one. Ah'm just a farmpony. Got no time fer tryin' ta learn all that medical mumbo-jumbo."

I could have told her that she was smart regardless, but I didn't feel the need to, so I just left it at that. We ended up making some conversation along the way to the hospital.

Overall, this was a sub-par experience at best. There wasn't much room for improvement. Still, I had to keep trucking on until I managed to get a meeting with those damn princesses. Until then, which would hopefully be soon, I'd have to dick around and try to kill time.

Yippee, what fun this is going to be.

Clearly.

Author's Note:

Well, this is long overdue. It's actually been waiting to be submitted for like two months. I mostly forgot about it until I remembered I actually exist in the third dimension where MLP exists as well.

Bullshit aside, sorry for the wait. If there are errors, PM me about it instead of commenting preferably. Cleaner that way and there are likely to be quite a few considering I just shipped this out with barely looking at it.

Maybe I'll be able to update more during the summer. But for now, I got like six papers that need to be written by the end of this week, so I'm off to wear down my fingers to nothing from fun.

Also, who the fuck would search these keywords highlighted: