Fescue
Saturday
Admiral Biscuit
Saturday was a day to unwind, to not think of work. To not think of working, a day to sleep late, eat brunch instead of breakfast, go out to the lake, or to invite friends over for a barbeque.
Or even better, be invited to one of those things.
Saturday was also sometimes the day to catch up on household tasks, just little ones that didn’t get done during the week.
Such as mowing the yard. An hour’s investment, the sun was shining, and there was nothing that said being lord of the fiefdom like mowing the lawn.
Except when the lawnmower wouldn’t start.
It had gas in it, and the pull cord pulled just fine. The motor would catch briefly and then quit.
Probably just the spark plug.
The tool kit’s in the garage, a mechanic’s tool kit from Sears, back when Sears was still a going concern.
The plug looks okay, but who knows. They’re cheap, and the hardware store isn’t that far away.
•••
In-stock, $3.99 for a Champion plug and $7.99 for a genuine Briggs & Stratton. Couldn’t make that much of a difference, but an extra four dollars is a small price to pay for peace of mind.
Naturally, that doesn’t fix it.
•••
A few hours later, the air filter and oil have both been ruled out. The engine turns, so it’s not a seized bearing. It ran fine last time it was used; it’s just being belligerent. Maybe it’s got too much gas in it, maybe not enough.
The manual doesn’t help. The air filter housing comes off easy enough, though, and looking down the carb is an important diagnostic step, maybe.
The garage door’s open because it’s not safe to run a lawnmower in an enclosed garage—never mind that it currently doesn’t run. A beer in hand is another good diagnostic step; backyard mechanics on TV never fix anything without a beer in hand.
All that’s missing is the nosy neighbor.
“Mister Hendershot?”
Perfect.
“You can call me Craig.” Her voice, lilting and musical as befits a unicorn. Elegant and imposing, despite her diminutive stature.
“What are you doing?”
“Fixing my lawnmower. Well, trying to. You don’t know anything about lawnmowers, do you?”
She shakes her head. “Why?”
“I have to cut my grass before the neighbors complain.” Before one specific neighbor complains, the same specific neighbor who is offended by yard gnomes. “It’s too long. It was raining last Saturday and I didn’t get to it. By tomorrow, Henrietta’s going to be out here with a ruler and if she finds a single blade over six inches, she’s going to call code enforcement on me.”
“Oh.” She looks out at the lawn and back at the lawnmower. “Well, I know some ponies.”
“Do any of them know how to fix a lawnmower?”
She shrugs. “Maybe, it’s never come up. But they know a thing or two about cropping a lawn.”
•••
A flock of pegasi, a herd of horses, and a blessing of unicorns. Or was it a luck of unicorns? Whatever it was, none of them knew anything about lawnmowers, but when it came to cropping a lawn, well, they knew a thing or two. They didn’t have to get out the weed whipper to clear around the dozens of yard gnomes, they got their muzzles right in there and nibbled off the grass.
And they didn’t accidentally run over the other landscaping and spit it out the chute—an easy mistake to make with a lawnmower.
Saturdays were meant for sleeping late, relaxing at the lake, or barbecuing. Not pushing a lawnmower was relaxing, but it wasn't fair to the crew who had showed up and helped out. The thought had percolated, slowly, that this was a backyard party.
Craig still had a boombox, and it had a slot for CDs. Ponies loved musicals. Jekyll and Hyde, The Count of Monte Cristo, Hamilton.
Beer, apple juice, water, lemonade, the only thing missing was the grill, but what would the point of making food be when the ponies had a veritable buffet in front of them? Grass as fresh as grass could be, a thick luscious fescue sprinkled with a few weeds here and there. Apparently a delicacy for some. Gnomes on the border, and then some proper—or so the realtor had said—landscaping against the house. It grew and needed to be weeded and the gnomes watched over it.
Of course Ms. Henrietta Bundermann showed up, and as she rounded the corner her hand was reaching into her purse and the tape measure surely contained therein.
Not today, Ms. Bundermann. Not today.
“What in heaven?” She fanned herself, clearly offended by both the half-cropped lawn and the fantastical pastoral tableaux thereupon. Thomas Kinkaid was a piker; even his wildest fever-dream never would have included a rainbow of ponies nibbling at the grass, and yet. . . .
“Craig Hendershot, what have you done?”
“What have I done? I thought I’d change up the normal barbeque, really get to know the new neighbor and her friends. Turns out they all love a shaggy fescue, who knew? There’s plenty left if you’re feeling peckish. I’m sure they’d share.”
“If . . . if. . . .”
Seeing someone’s brain completely lock up is a new experience. Her face got red and her mouth hung open and no more words came out.
There was compassion and there was twisting the knife. Given that it was Henrietta, the choice was obvious. “There’s plenty of beer too, if you want one. Or apple juice, if beer’s not your thing.”
“This isn’t over,” she finally hissed and then stormed off, accompanied by Edmond singing that he was dead.
Whatever, there was no law against ponies eating his lawn. The bylaws were clear on length of grass and keeping of animals, but said nothing about having friends over who wanted to listen to musicals and nom on the fescue.
•••
Henrietta called the cops, because of course she did. A brief discussion with a bemused deputy later, and an admission that there was no law against new friends eating the grass. The party continued in the backyard where the grass was taller and apparently tastier, and the musicals got turned up just a notch. A few nudges of the radio ensured that it was exactly facing Ms. Bundermann’s patio, because who didn’t enjoy Lin-Manuel Miranda?
Also LikedSimilarAuthor
- Admiral Biscuit · 8.4k words · 256 4 · 3.1k views
- Admiral Biscuit · 1.6k words · 194 6 · 2k views
- Admiral Biscuit · 2.6k words · 239 2 · 2.1k views
- Admiral Biscuit · 2.5k words · 169 3 · 1.7k views
- Admiral Biscuit · 3k words · 219 3 · 2.2k views
- Admiral Biscuit · 1.7k words · 307 3 · 2.9k views
- Admiral Biscuit · 1.3k words · 198 6 · 2k views
- Admiral Biscuit · 1.2k words · 299 9 · 3.2k views
Stats
Page generated in 0.61 seconds
Total duration
1,001 users online
301,980 hits today, 2,921,617 yesterday
FIMFiction
My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic Fanfiction
Designed and coded by knighty & Xaquseg - © 2011-2024
Follow & Support Us
Support us
SubStar
Chat!
Discord
Follow us
Twitter
MLP: Friendship is Magic® - © 2024 Hasbro Inc.®
Fimfiction is in no way affiliated with or endorsed by Hasbro Inc.®
Ah, this tickles the schadenfrude. Lovely story.
I would love this guy as my neighbor! I would also share my music (Weird Al) and let them tromp through my yard as well, if I had a home in the city.
Well, that's amazing. Story notes were awesome, too.
So... who paid who for the lawn?
ah another cute and cozy admiral biscuit story
i've said it before and i'll happily say it again, i love how you write slice-of-life. Makes me feel like I could look outside one day and have a pony neighbor casually eating dandelions or clover out of the lawn. Or a pegasus at the
bird feedersnack tube, but that's a different story.Love this story😁👍🏼👍🏼
Admiral, you've done it again, a short and sweet slice of life.
I would die a happy man if I could have pleasant ponies (or any of my other favorite characters for that matter) as neighbors.
As to Henrietta, we live in an HOA neighborhood, and we used to have a lady just like that (she moved out thank goodness).
A Rainbow of Ponies. That's their new group name, head cannon accepted.
The top half of this story read so much like your "this was my day at the garage" blog posts, that I started the story with the comforting sense of familiarity that you get from sitting down with an old friend. It was nice.
Then you segued right into "ponies are the friends you didn't know you had" territory. Ho do you make me nostalgic for things I've never experienced?
A Blessing of Unicorns. A Nuicense of Karens. (We spell it wrong just to annoy them)
very short... But it's still made me laugh when they eat the grass.
This is the second Karen story I've seen featured in as many days. Not that I'm complaining, but what's up with that?
10671539
The lawn came with the house... along with the plentiful gnomes.
Great excuse for a regular party every few weeks in spring and summer. Plentiful drinks, maybe some BBQd veggies since the more regular ‘mowing’ sessions will mean less fresh food and Craig’s place will become a regular pony party central... much to Henrietta’s displeasure.
10671704
I was trying to phrase it in an open fashion. Of course the lawn came with the house but who paid who? Was the lawn care paid for or was lunch paid for?
Just an FYI, there are places that let you rent goats to do this for your lawn.
Ah, the joys of an HOA.
10671714
Ahhh, I see. I suspect it was an ‘everyone wins’ scenario... Craig gets lawn care and his neighbour and her friends get free dinner, drinks and entertainment... sure Craig has had to supply drinks but, eh, not a bad deal for lawn care and a social Saturday with your new neighbour and her friends.
10671518
*a pony hearing a Weird Al song* "How did Cheese Sandwich get on the radio?"
Human: "No, that's Weird Al."
Pony: "Sounds just like Cheese Sandwich. He's one of THE party ponies in Equestria."
.. and a bunch of somewhat nosy neighbours peering over to see what all the fuss is about, and then slyly wondering what would tempt the unicorns into their yard, because their grass isn't getting any shorter.
Is... is that really a thing? Please tell me you just invented this absurd type of person.
Ponies to fescue!
10671792
Sadly, no. Houseowner associations and similar are a magnet for petty people who wish to wield their minuscule authority over others with self-righteous zeal.
Heh, nice. :)
Glad I could help with this. (And yes, you can say I did.
) Delightful little vignette.
this should be Karen gets de-hooved.
i love it and i wood offer my yard as next but right now it is under snow and i am feeding hay to my pony's.
or Karen gets eaten up with the nayghbor solution.
10671792
Unfortunately yes. Homeowners associations are breeding grounds for psychopaths.
10671777
Wasn't there a story or two about pizza delivery pegasi? Heck, landscaping sounds like a natural job for the ponies. Maybe not eating it all the time, due to nasty chemicals used before they got there, but at least doing many of the same jobs.
And there can never be too many scenes of pegasi swooping in to the back yard for a quick splash after a long day at work during those Summer days. Might get thestrals in the evening too because the lights attract moths and such.
This is... Art
pbs.twimg.com/media/EfA3qc-XkAABS4N.jpg
I like the local cops who take a very dim view of repeat nosers wasting their time, so they are very happy to share it in return.
I love this little slice of wholesome joy. It was a wonderful thing to come home to after a long night of work. It has the right amount of fun, joy, and a dash of zaniness and chaos mixed in for a good laugh.
See I would have done the same as this guy but gotten 2 dozen shot glasses and 2 to 3 bottles of vinaigrette, French/Russian, and Ranch and loaded those into the glasses so if they cared to alter the taste they could. That and sodium is their beer in many ways to it be like jello shots. Still would get the apple juice, lemonade and OJ, cause hey its a garden party you have to be a good host.
There's a reason you're known as the king of slice of life you know?
🤣 if only this could happen I real life! It would be hilarious. 😢 That poor Karen 😈😂
10671732
bonus points for getting to thumb the nose at the local busybody.
As cool as it would be to have ponies grazing your lawn into shape, I couldn't help thinking of some of the... complications that they might encounter when dealing with the average lawn.
"Sir, your dog has a urinary tract infection."
"Uh, yes. We've been treating Max for that since yesterday. How did you know?"
"I'm a vet."
"That doesn't expl–"
"You'll figure it out. By the way, I'd like another beer, please."
10671574
Consider yourself fortunate. Grandpa owned a parcel of land he'd inherited from his father and a subdivision grew up on the access road. Idiot Karens that ran the HOA there couldn't get it through their thick skulls that no, he wasn't in their little fiefdom, had zero interest in joining, and could tell them exactly what he thought of them when they tried to make him.
10671770
The probability of Weird Al and Cheese Sandwich ending up in a duet would approach 100% within a month of Equus-Earth access.
Pinkie would know how and where. She always does. She knows.
In fact some time ago I saw a respectable film music critic who’s been reviewing film music for more than 25 years saying that he didn’t enjoy Hamilton even one bit. Huh.
10672131
yeah, that's why Rarity never eats grass right off the ground.
(That, and bugs.)
THANK YOU GREAT story to share and brighten people's day with
10671729 Not even an HOA necessarily some towns and cities have rules on the books about yards. Though generally unlike an HOA the city or town gets involved not only is it a fine but some of them will cut it for you at a great rate.. Great for them not you.
10672118 10671729 10672113 Sadly I can see the next HOA meeting banning having ponies cutting your grass
No matter what settings, plots, or characters there are in your stories, you always make everything absolutely enjoyable to read! This is just so wholesome, adorable, and humorous all at the same time and I could never grow tired of your awesome writing! I hope ya didn't mind, but I definitely had to read this beautiful fic of yours!
Audio Linkyloo!: https://youtu.be/VAofG36395s
(I don't mean to offend anyone with this comment in any way!)
Even if that hasn't been a thing before, it is a thing now.
Spending Saturday wathing ponies "mowing" the lawn?
I'd have no problem with that.
Great story, Admiral!
10672131
10672233
I'll just mention this:
10672134
I've heard some real horror stories about bloated ego HOA's. I hope things worked out for your grandpa.
10672435
Grandpa was a tough old cuss that took no s**t from anybody. The HOA came out the worst every time they butted heads. In fact, he outlived the HOA.
Ms. Bundermann, I'd surmise.
All the more reason to turn the volume up another few notches.
10672239
They'd probably try it but within 48 hours there would likely be an antidiscrimination lawsuit served on them by one of many groups who I'm sure would be keeping an eye out for these types of shenanigans.
Another delightful story. Thanks!
The HOA only cares if you don't have money to throw at them to keep them quiet. People get on my family's case all the damn time about our house(And our Neighbor Dave's, good man, funny story about his I'll tell after the rant). But the lot on the other side of the fence? Not a peep. Grass literal feet tall, weeds out the ass, broken down ass house, but the guy literally has government officials in his pocket and money out the wazzoo. Literal rat problem and fire hazard, but nothing we can do about it.
ANYWAYS.
So my neighbor get's his fence graffiti'ed, just lets it sit cause, honestly, nobody really cares since it's on the side yard and he's a bit of as hippy anyways, so he probably dug the street tags on his fence. HOA get's on his case so what he does is he paints the entire fence PURPLE. This also pisses off the HOA, but everybody's like "WE like the purple fence tho" at the meeting, so HOA literally can't do shit without pissing everybody off. Best win ever.
TRUTH.
Such a sweet, enjoyable little story.
10671506
Thank you!
10671514
I also wish I had pony neighbors. I’ve got one working lawnmower and at least three that don’t; I have the experience and tools to fix them but not the desire.