High School is Annoying

by Granite

The Old Mobster and the Homeless Mare

Scootaloo rested under a makeshift shade structure behind the bowling alley. School day was over, and she didn't really have anything else to do. Mr. Kingpin let her camp out there, even though it probably wasn't the best for business. It was dark enough back here where most ponies couldn't see or didn't bother. There wasn't much to look at anyways. A crappy canopy made of discarded metal piping and one of Rarity's old quilts that she totally stole. Underneath that was an old mattress with a older TV. One with antennas and junk so she could pick up the local channels. Other than that it was just her and her scooter gathering dust and rust.

She started at it nostalgically for a little. Since she learned to fly she never took it out anymore. There wasn't really a need. But it helped her do many things back in the day, including get her cutie mark. Very late. But it still happened. It didn't even work anymore, but she could never bring herself to trash it. There was too many memories. Good ones, which she needed now more than ever given the circumstances.

Her head snapped at the noise of the back door opening. The big, scruffy Manehatten stallion with the tan coat, the 5 o'clock shadow and the scratched up hooves of the typical hardworking Earth Pony that she knew a little more than most. Mr Kingpin was basically an partially annoying landlord to her that didn't charge her money for her stay. They were hardly friends, and they almost never talked. The deal was pretty much "Don't bug me I won't bug you." That was how it stayed. He normally let her know when the work day was over, which he was doing now. He spoke in the gruff accent typical to Manehatten ponies. "Shifts over. You can come in now if you wanna."

She got up lazily, taking almost a full minute to sit up. He rarely invited her inside, but it was better than outside. She followed him to the ball counter, where he parked to polish the bowling balls before he left. She walked right by him and sat in a chair on the end of the lanes. She used to come here pretty often as a filly with her friends. She sat in the same chair every time.

She stared up at the pulsing neon lights, halfway wishing she was high so this would've been more interesting. Then the stallion behind her spoke up. "Hey kid. Can I talk to you for a second?"

She sighed annoyed "No."

"You sure about that?"

"Pretty sure"

"Alright Guess you don't want the job then."

Scootaloo suddenly sat up. "What was that?"

The old stallion smiled small. "The job. One of my attendants walked out on me. Figure I'd at least give you a shot, since you piratically live here."

She stood up and trotted over to the counter."That sounds like work."

He turned to open the lock on the cash register. "Yeah. Kinda the point of job. But I don't expect something for nothing." He slammed a packaged roll of bits onto the till, pouring them out into the drawer. "You'd get your pay, which means you could get off my back porch."

She spoke with a sassier tone now. "Why would I do that? I don't mind paying nothing for what I got now."

He slammed the drawer closed. "Because I'm kicking you out."

Her mood went from smug to worried in a heartbeat. "What?! You're just gonna throw me out there?! I thought we had a mutual understanding!"

He put a hoof up, interrupting her. "I'm giving you the choice. You can start working for a paycheck or you can get the hell out. You walk outta here, that's on you."

He walked around the counter to another door. He unlocked it and it swung open. She followed him into what appeared to be his office. He sat down and pushed some papers her way. "That way I don't get pegged as an insensitive old bastard."

She sat down in a chair and looked at the papers. It was a pile of employment stuff. She looked back up at him. and he was putting a coat on. A pinstripe suit jacket that reminded her of the mob. Then she noticed a black and white picture in a frame. It was a group of stallions all wearing the striped suits standing next to a massive . "What's this?"

He looked briefly at the picture. "Just me and some buddies from my younger years."

She examined the picture, then looked back at Kingpin. "You were in the mob?"

"Put it frankly yeah. I was young and stupid"

"And rich by the looks of it. What happened?"

He paused and sighed. "I grew up"

She frowned. "That sucks"

He raised his voice a little, getting a little irritated. "No it doesn't. I keep that picture to remind me of my bad choices. We weren't good boys as I'm sure was obvious. We broke the law. We hurt ponies." He sat in the chair on the other side of the desk. "You remind me of my younger self. Careless and stupid. It comes with youth. I'm not kicking you on the streets cause I don't wanna see you get in trouble. I'm hoping working here will give you some sort of self worth. So wadda say kid?

She stared at the picture a little more. "What would I have to do."

"Just show up after school. Be sober. Keep ponies happy. Manage the lanes. Isn't that hard."

"How much do I get payed for this?"

"Starting wage 15 bits an hour. That's more than most. Use it to rent a place."

A long silence passes before she speaks up. "Fine."

He smirks. "You start next week then. Now get out."

She stood up and walked out of the office, out of the building and back to her little hideout. This wasn't exactly good news for her. She was strictly apathetic about her current living conditions, and she hated working, but she couldn't afford getting kicked out from the back. Kingpin knew there wasn't a choice for her, despite offering her the option to take it or lave it. But at least he was offering to help. At least she had something to tell her friends.

Comments

[Soaring Skies]

>thinking deleting comments is going to solve anything
i.imgur.com/OtZVqwR.jpg

[Granite]

4434593 He was being rude.

[Valvatorez]

4436867 Here.

Here's how it should have played out:

Wow, you're being a dick, but you are right. I could use an editor even if I don't like your tone.

But, like most authors, it doesn't happen.

[Granite]

Can we not turn this into a debate please? I handled that badly. Whatever. Let's just move on and forget about it. Please? I don't have time for this.

[Valvatorez]

4438040 No debate here. You fukked up and rejected criticism. Literally, nothing is up for debate. Learn to not be such a kid.

[The derpman]

This is a ok set up for a few things that could happen, I hope this story continues to be good.