• Published 18th Nov 2020
  • 12,011 Views, 133 Comments

Big Trouble in Little Pony Town - Some Leech

Anon happens upon a new pony in town - a particularly large, strong, and unintelligible pony...

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Just a Little Off the Top...

“Whaur ur we gaun again?” Nord inquired, cocking her head over at him.

“If you’re asking what I think you’re asking, for the umpteenth time, we’re going to find you a job. I can’t afford to have you eating me out of house and home, so you’re going to have to work. Thankfully, there are a few places that are hiring in town,” he explained, rushing to keep ahead of her.

By the sweet, merciful grace of Celestia, the titan had passed out shortly after he’d escorted her back to his apartment. Once she’d seen herself into his room and collapsed on his bed, he was given some peace and quiet to plan his next move. Sneaking outside, taking care not to rouse his snoozing guest, he stole his neighbor’s paper and browsed the classified section.

After circling a few prospects, he curled up on his sofa and pulled his spare pillow over his head. Sleeping on the couch wouldn’t have been an issue, were it not for the fact that Nord’s snores sounded like a mixture of some primeval monster and a train engine; to make matters worse, as he was quick to discover, she also talked in her sleep. Needless to say, with the excitement of his day, all the noise, and having been robbed of his bed, his sleep had been less than spectacular. Upon waking up and ushering his guest out the door, the two set off on their little expedition.

“And here we are,” he sighed, waving over at one of the local barbershops. Retrieving one of the ads from his pocket, he handed the neatly cut slip of paper over to her. “Just go in, show them the ad, and see what they say. You can cut hair, right?”

“Aye, A've shorn a few an aberdonian`s burd,” she responded, smugly holding a hoof to her broad chest.

Taking a deep breath to steel himself, Anon clapped a hand on her shoulder and stared into her piercing blue eyes. “You got this…”

Giving him a nod, she turned and trotted into the shop. Anon stood outside, keeping a silent vigil through the large storefront window. The barber, a squat little stallion with a spruce mustache, looked a bit surprised with her introduction, though he had the wherewithal to listen to her. Though the man couldn’t hear what the two were saying, he noticed the coiffure point to the chairs, the tools resting on the counter, then to the door.

With his rudimentary instructions complete, the barber then eyed her from top to bottom. Shrewdly rubbing his chin for a second, pondering on some mystery, a eureka moment seemed to strike him. Tottering into the back, he disappeared behind a small curtain; moments later, he reemerged with a dusty cardboard box. Fishing within, much to Anon’s amazement, he produced a striped, collared shirt that looked to be just Nord’s size.

Having given his jumbo employee her uniform, and presumably having told her what she needed to do, the shopkeeper hopped into one of the corner chairs and began reading a paper. If being handed an outfit and allowed to tend to customers wasn’t a sure sign of success, nothing was. With his job complete, and Nord adorned in her uniform, Anon turned away.

Just as the man was about to head back to his house, more than happy to abandon her at the establishment, Thunderlane strolled by. On any other day, he wouldn’t have given a random passerby a second glance, though his curiosity got the better of him. Slowing and looking over his shoulder, he noticed the pegasus step into the barbershop. Seeing as how he was interested to see her first swing at hairdressing, he turned around and peeked through the side of the window.

Thunder faltered, noticing the gargantuan mare standing between the pair of barber chairs, but he didn’t stop completely. Beaming over at her prospective customer, Nord motioned for him to have a seat. The stallion paused for a minute, before reluctantly creeping forward and easing himself down to her left.

To Anon’s amazement, Nord really seemed to know her stuff! Rubbing his shoulder, she craned her neck and retrieved an apron for Thunder. Happily chatting away, despite the pegasus’ anxious expression, she fastened the smock around his neck, reclined the chair slightly, and eyed his mohawk. With everything going smoothly, and the shop owner blissfully ignoring his new-found employee, the man contentedly sighed - that was, until the mare bent over, rummaged around behind herself, and produced an honest-to-goodness battle axe.

Where she’d retrieved a medieval weapon that rivaled the size of a pony, or how in the nine hells she was holding it so proficiently in her mouth, he couldn’t say, but everything quickly went to hell in a hand-basket. With the barber distracted and Thunderlane frozen stiff, likely suffering some minor coronary and/or too shocked to move, she adjusted her grip and swung the axe downward in a large, sweeping ark.

The closest thing Anon could equate it to was like watching a train wreck - no matter how hard he tried to look away from the imminently horrifying decapitation, he couldn’t tear his eyes off the sight. The bearded blade soared down, barely missing the seated pegasus by a hair’s breadth. Shearing off the entire top of Thunder’s mohawk, revealing the dark flesh of his scalp, the weapon buried itself in the tiled floor with a thunderous CRASH!

Without saying a word, Nord stood, brushed off the shaved bit of the stallion’s head, and righted her customer’s chair. It was only when she started sweeping his mane off his shoulders did the man notice just how bad the situation was. The owner, undoubtedly having heard the commotion, sat with his mouth agape, though that wasn’t the worst of it. Poor Thunderlane had either fainted or flat out died in his chair and, if Anon had to guess, there was a good chance he’d soiled himself.

Realizing he only had a moment before either of the stallions recuperated, or possibly fell out of their seats, the man ran inside and grabbed Nord by the shoulder. “What the hell? You could’ve killed him!”

Knocking his hand away, she shot him an angry glare. “Ah juist teuk a bawherr aff th' tap! Whit's th' kinch?”

“You can’t just go swinging an axe around at people - er - ponies!” Anon muttered, tugging at her shirt.

Dismissively batting a hoof, Nord gestured to the terrorized pegasus. “Ah did juist braw - forby, he seems chuffed wi' it!”

Yet again, the man didn’t have the foggiest clue what she’d said. Regardless of how pleased she seemed to be with her work, they needed to leave and leave fast. Not only was Thunderlane in a catatonic state, but a substantial fissure had been cleaved into the floor. Between the destruction of property and psychological trauma, there was no way in hell her earnings from the single ‘haircut’ would cover the damages - as such, hightailing it was likely the wisest option.

Turning towards the door and tugging at his guest, Anon attempted to flee - that was, until she slipped from his grasp. Looking back, seeing Nord working to unbutton her shirt, he shook his head. “We can bring it back later - for now, just grab your stuff.”

The mare glanced over at him, shrugged, and moved to retrieve her things. Swaddling her clothing in one foreleg, she seized the axe in her jaw and pulled it clear. As she skillfully flipped the weapon onto her shoulder, she turned to face her guide and nodded. “Ah jalouse tis aff tae th' neist yin…”

Though he wasn’t sure how they’d be able to repay the barber for the trouble, or if they’d inadvertently committed a crime, he led his charge out. With any luck, the remainder of their attempts to find her a fitting job would be met with more success...