Sleeping Like a Rock
Chapter 2 – Sleeping Like a Rock
Curse these winding country roads! Trixie thought, straining against the harness of her carriage. Didn’t anypony ever teach these bumpkins how to draw a straight line? She’d been walking for days and every hooffall on the hard-packed dirt road sent a jolt of pain into her back. Her usually stylish mane was hanging in lank strands, filled with sweat and dust. Ooh, Dotted Line is going to regret this.
Cresting the next of this region’s seemingly endless hills, Trixie stopped and allowed herself a sigh of relief. Finally, she had arrived. In the valley below her, a path led off the main road. Above it, a depressing grey on grey sign reading ‘Rocky Road Farm’ swung reluctantly in the light breeze. With each oscillation, a thin squeal drifted from the sign’s hinges, setting Trixie’s teeth on edge.
From the Canterlot Royal Theatre to this. Trixie slowly rotated her head, taking in the view. In the fading light of the early evening, the land was shockingly bleak. It was as if somepony had come through and purposefully extracted the color from the world. Everything was a grey tonal variant. Even her brilliant blue coat was muted as the color struggled to show through the layers of dirt she had kicked up. Well, there’s nothing for it, she thought, reluctantly forcing the cart into motion again. The sooner I amaze the fools that live here, the sooner I can get my spotlight back.
---
I guess they weren’t kidding about the rocks, Trixie thought, eyeing her surroundings with distaste. The path wound through several fenced-in fields full of nothing but stones of varying size. With a sigh, Trixie finally let go of the notion that ‘rock farm’ might be some sort of colloquialism for playhouse or amphitheatre. The grim path had finally led her to an equally grim farmhouse, and in front of it, a grim-looking, grey-whiskered pony studying a line of rocks before him. As he heard the approaching cart, he lifted his head and gave her a cool glance, repositioning his pipe to better facilitate a frown.
“The Great and Powerful Trixie has arrived!” Trixie belted out in ringing tones. “You are advised to keep your hooves firmly beneath your chin. For otherwise, your jaw will surely hit the ground. Behold as Trixie—”
“You’ll be needin’ a pipe,” the stallion interrupted, scanning her from top to bottom. Nonplussed, Trixie tried to find the thread of logic.
“I, uh… what?” she asked, cocking an eyebrow. The stallion removed his pipe from his mouth, pointing at it.
“A. Pipe,” he said with exaggerated slowness. “We find a nice pipe keeps the mouth busy. It keeps the talkin’ to a minimum.” The stallion came over and solemnly took her hoof, giving it a subdued shake before dropping it again. “I’ll assume you’re the new day laborer, since your name is Trixie. I’m Humble Pie, and this is my farm,” Humble said, pointing his pipe towards the various highlights. “That there is the South Field. We raise rocks there. Over there is the West Field. It also has rocks.” Trixie rolled her eyes and unhitched the harness to her cart.
“Rocks should not concern you for the next hour, sir!” Trixie cried, opening the small compartment on her carriage that held her spare hat and cape. “Before you stands Equestria’s greatest purveyor of the eldritch arts! Trixie the Magnificent! Behold!”
The adrenaline rush of the show began to course through Trixie, and she hit the hidden button beneath the cart that made it come to life. Humble’s eyes widened as the cart unfolded. Suddenly the grey terrain around them was illuminated with the lights and sounds of Trixie’s well-rehearsed show. Her horn glowed brightly as she gathered her magical strength.
“Now, please direct your attention—”
“See here, young lady!” Humble growled, his eyebrows bunching together. “I’ll thank you to put a stop those lights and whizbangs. They’ve no place on my farm.” Trixie’s mouth fell open as she studied the stallion.
H-he’s serious! Trixie thought. She could feel the heat rising up her neck and across her face as she blushed brightly. Even here! she thought furiously. Even here where no one has heard of me, I’m rejected! She firmly clamped her jaw together, determined not to cry she pressed the button again and watched the cart fold in on itself.
“Now,” Humble began, “I can see you’re not too learned about rocks, but they’re a sensitive bunch. All of your loud talkin’ and lights and whatall else scares ‘em.”
“I’m scaring the rocks?” Trixie said, curling her lip into a sneer.
“Oh, ayuh,” Humble said. “These are organic rocks. We grow them in controlled environments. Government regulations, you know.” He picked up one of the stones from the line he had been examining. “You see this beauty?” he said, thrusting it into Trixie’s face. “Grade A limestone with a layer of rose quartz running through it!” Bringing it to his nose, he inhaled deeply. “Ayuh, packed full of minerals, this one is.” he sighed, nodding. Trixie’s head began to throb.
“All rocks are packed full of minerals,” she said, rubbing her forehead. “They’re made of minerals.”
“Oh, sure enough,” Humble replied mildly, biting lightly on the stone. “Low quality, ordinary minerals, but at Rocky Road Farm, we believe a better environment makes for better rocks.” Humble took off his wide-brimmed hat and held it solemnly over his heart. “For generations, my family has worked to raise Equestria’s finest stones in a responsible and sustainable settin’, and I believe the results speak for themselves, eh?” He turned the rock over, displaying its every contour to Trixie. “A truly fine one, this, but we can’t have your nonsense here. It disrupts the process.” Leaning away from the farmer, Trixie found herself scanning the shadows.
This is some sort of joke, she thought. A publicity stunt. Any second how, Dotted Line is going to jump out with the press and we are all going to have a big laugh. I’ll just play along for now. “Oh, yes,” Trixie breathed theatrically. “The Great and Powerful Trixie can see that this is the finest rock she has ever laid eyes on!” Warming to the performance, Trixie stood on her hind legs, thrust her front legs high into the air. “For it takes a star to know a star, and Trixie is the brightest star—”
“Oh, that’s fine,” Humble said, nodding. “The rocks like it when you talk to ‘em in third person. Gives ‘em an open feeling. Kind of, well, community-ish, if you know what I mean. Follow me, please.”
Left standing alone in front of her cart, Trixie found that, no, she had no idea what he meant. Irritated that he had the temerity to walk off in the middle of her soliloquy, she followed reluctantly.
---
Humble stopped in front of a weather-beaten barn that was as grey as everything else on the farm.Trixie had taken to examining her own dirty hooves every few minutes to remind herself that color existed.
“Well, this is the start of the operation, so it’s where you’ll begin,” he said, struggling with the heavy bar that extended across the door. “We keep it locked up tight to keep out the predators.” Confused, Trixie opened her mouth to speak, but was forced to trot quickly after Humble as he ducked into the barn. Inside, he retrieved a small lantern from a nail on a wall and cupped her ear with a hoof. “Quiet now,” he whispered. “These rocks are the most sensitive.”
“What rocks?” hissed Trixie, trying to penetrate the gloom of the barn. She could barely see her hoof in front of her face.
“Patience,” Humble replied, striking a piece of flint and steel together repeatedly. Finally, a spark caught the wick and the lantern issued a feeble glow. “Ah, that’s done it. Now, look.” Humble walked into the barn’s inner recesses, holding the lantern high above his head. Curious in spite of herself, Trixie followed. Emerging from the darkness, she could see rows and rows of tiny, four-poster beds no wider than her hooves. “These are the bed rocks,” Humble murmured to her from behind a hoof.
“Really?” Trixie replied coolly, arching an eyebrow at him.
“Oh, ayuh,” he replied. “Little rocks need lots of rest if they’re going to grow up strong.” He continued down the row, adjusting the tiny comforters on a few of the small rocks to more properly cover them. Trixie tried to pierce the barn’s murky atmosphere, hoping against hope that she would see Dotted Line’s smiling face waiting for her.
This pony is either yanking my chain or mentally unstable, Trixie thought, throwing her hooves up in disgust. Enough of this. There must be other work. Squinting in the darkness, she turned back toward the crack of light from the partially opened barn door. “The Great and Powerful Trixie has a tight schedule and she regrets that she must be off. Please send along your payment to the agency.”
“Oh, I don’t think so, miss,” Humble said over his shoulder. “You see, you are contracted for a week of service until my wife returns from the Hoofington Rock Roundup. Since the kids are grown and gone, she’s the only help I have.” As Humble began to make his way back to Trixie, she found her mouth suddenly dry. Below the soft light of the lantern, Humble’s stoic, unyielding expression spoke volumes.
This man truly doesn’t know who I am! Trixie thought, her heart racing. He actually means to make me do manual labor!
“You might be wonderin’ if I mean to make you do manual labor,” Humble said, bending over and listening to one of the stones. “Heh. Little imp. He’s snorin’.” He carefully turned the rock over. “There you go, little one.” Tucking the blanket back around the stone, he fixed his eye on Trixie. “And yes, I do.” Flipping her hair, Trixie turned back toward the barn door once again.
“There has been a misunderstanding,” Trixie said with a disdainful sniff. “Trixie has been sent to amaze and confound, not haul rocks around.”
“Oh, don’t make that face. I read up on your abilities when you signed up for the job. It’s your skills I’m needin’.”
Trixie felt the tension begin to drain from her body. Finally, this was beginning to make some kind of sense. Of course Dotted Line wouldn’t have given her a job hauling rocks. Laughing to herself, Trixie dusted herself off.
“Well, then. Which of Trixie’s vast powers do you call upon?” she asked, illuminating her horn. She knew from countless hours in front of her full length mirror that this made the stars and moons on her costume shimmer and dance, dazzling the audience before she had even begun. “Are there boulders to be reduced to pebbles? Shall Trixie astound you with—” Trixie’s horn went out as Humble turned and ambled off into a dark corner. “Hey, are you listening? What is it that you require?” she demanded.
“Your agent said you’re a fair hoof at pullin’ a cart,” Humble answered, motioning in the corner. To Trixie’s dismay, it contained an ancient covered wagon. It was, of course, grey.
“You’re not serious! You can’t be!” Trixie sputtered, backing away. Humble hung his lantern on a metal pole attached to the harness and began working on adjusting the straps.
“Well, I wasn’t serious once. My daughter, bless her heart, she threw us a ‘party’. Darnedest thing I’ve ever seen. Ah, there,” Humble said, working the dried leather out of its rusted buckle. “It gets stiff with sweat, you know. Hard to work with. If that happens to you, just spit on it some and it will loosen up.” Trixie’s knees began to feel weak. “Anyway, we thanked her most kindly, but I had to put my hoof down when she tried it again. That kind of silly behavior just doesn’t have a place here. Not with rocks.” Humble fixed her with an eye and scowled. “Now come here, miss.”
“No,” Trixie squealed. “I’m Trixie the Magnificent! I’m known across Equestria!”
“You’re goin' to be known across Equestria as Trixie the Faithless unless you hold true to your contract.” He held the harness out to her. “Now, do you want me to have to send word out that you welched on your job?” Trixie slowly walked forward, her eyes filling with furious tears.
I will never forget this! she thought, snatching the harness away and fitting it around her body. When I climb back to the top, this horrible stallion will pay. They’ll all pay!
“Now, see, that wasn’t so bad. Down that first aisle, please,” Humble said, trotting toward the beds. Trixie shot him a glance filled with loathing, but he had already started off. She strained against the harness, gritting her teeth as the straps bit into her skin.
“What do you have in this thing?” she whined. “It weighs a ton!”
“Get movin’ a little faster and it’ll be apparent.” Sighing, Trixie quickened her pace, but jumped as a discordant jangle erupted from the back of the wagon. “No, no,” Humble said, shaking his head. “The speed’s got to be just so. Otherwise, the lullaby doesn’t play right.” Trixie curled her lip as she passed the farmer, varying her speed to try and get some sort of melody from the contraption.
“You brought the greatest entertainer Equestria has ever known here to play lullabies for your rocks?!”
“No,” Humble returned, peeking inside the wagon as she passed. “I brought you here to play lullabies for my rocks.” He retracted his head and fixed her with a stern gaze. “Now, you’ll need to walk up and down these aisles until all these little rocks get nice and sleepy.” Trixie stopped, stomping a hoof.
“But you already said they were asleep!”
“I said one of ‘em was asleep! The rest of ‘em are just sittin’ there, gettin’ cranky as we chew the scenery away.”
Surely there must be some way out of this. Some authority over contracts. This pony has clearly lost his mind decades ago. Trixie had never felt so lost before. Even after her series of humiliations following her show in Ponyville, she had at least been working in her craft. How did I end up here? she thought, wiping her tired eyes with her least dirty hoof.
“Miss, I know you’ve had a long day, so I’ve chosen an easy chore to start us off,” Humble said, not unkindly. “You just soothe my little rocks to sleep here and then we’ll head off to bed ourselves.”
Bed! That’s it! Trixie thought, perking up. I’ll sneak away at night and find the authorities. One look at this place and they’ll authorize my release! Flipping her hair to the other side of her face, she glanced back at Humble. His eyebrows shot up as she gave him a winning smile. “Of course. The Great and Powerful Trixie loves rocks. Nothing would please her more than to see them sleeping peacefully.”
“Well, that’s fine. Just fine,” Humble said, solemnly nodding his head. “I’ll be walkin’ behind you with the water.” Trixie bit down on her tongue as he opened a cabinet and brought out a tray of tiny glasses. Filling them from a nearby spigot, he set the tray in the bed of the wagon. “Now, just go slow, but not too slow. Moderately slow to sub-fast-ish, I’d say.”
Groaning, Trixie leaned into the straps and the wagon lurched forward again. As she picked up speed, the song from the cart began to change. What had sounded initially like a set of bells being hurled violently down a very long staircase now became something beautiful. Despite herself, Trixie found herself smiling gently and humming along, until the harness dragged her forcefully to the left.
“Steady there,” Humble said as Trixie jumped to avoid one of the beds. “You’re goin’ to need to keep a sharp line. Tight quarters in here, after all.” Trixie gritted her teeth and turned to meet his eye.
“It’s your cart!” she snapped. “Trixie was doing her usual amazing job, when it twisted to the side for no reason!” Humble set down another tiny glass of water on a nearby rock’s end table.
“That’s where you’re wrong,” he returned as he moved to the next rock. “It’s for a very good reason. See, my wife has a limp from a nasty rock bite a few years ago. That cart is designed to compensate for it.”
“A rock bite?” Trixie asked, trying to wrestle the cart back into the center of the aisle.
“Oh, ayuh,” Humble answered, his gaze growing unfocused as he recalled the incident. “She was plantin’ in the east field when a stampede of wild rocks came chargin' down the mountain. She ran, but one of ‘em bit her, and her ankle just hasn’t ever been quite the same.” Trixie slapped a hoof over her face and briefly ground her teeth from side to side.
“So there was a landslide?” she asked, rubbing her temples. Humble scowled, pulling his pipe out of his mouth to point at her.
“Did I say it was a landslide?!” he barked. “That’s rocks a-playing! This was an attack!” Humble swept the weathered hat from his head, throwing it to the ground. “I’ve worked the rock fields for forty years, filly! You think I don’t know friendly rocks from aggressive ones?”
Trixie shrank back from the stallion’s sudden, intense fury. As her gaze swept around the barn, she was acutely aware of how isolated she was here with this madman. Smiling and batting her eyelashes, Trixie offered him a small curtsy that was only slightly hampered by her harness.
“Never in a million years, sir!” Trixie purred. “Trixie was merely joking. She had hoped a bit of levity would help move the night along.” Humble retrieved his hat, dusting it off. Setting it back on his head, he frowned, smothering Trixie’s charm with his cool gaze.
“Miss, movin’ that cart is what will move the night along, so get movin’,” he said, gathering a hoofful of glasses. “And mind the wheel. Every fourth rotation at speed, it pulls left, so you’ll need to go right.”
“Why don’t you just adjust the wheel?!” Trixie said, exasperated. Humble shook his head, slowly, and pushed on the back of the cart to prod it into motion.
“That there is a precision instrument. No tellin’ what would happen if we fooled with it. Plus, change spooks the little ones, here.” Giving up, Trixie heaved the heavy wagon into motion again, throwing herself to the right every fourth step and cursing the day she signed with Dotted Line.
---
Never again! Trixie thought, wiping the streaming sweat from her face. Outside the barn, the cool night air helped to refresh her, but nothing could distract from the painful stitch in her side or the raw patches on her chest where the straps had rubbed her skin from blue to pink. That stupid cart and its stupid wheel! Never again! Tonight, I escape this madhouse.
Humble closed the barn door and pounded Trixie on the back, sending her sprawling into the dirt.
“Well, it took us some extra time, but now the little rocks can sleep soundly,” he said, yawning widely. “Let me show you to your room.” Picking herself back up, Trixie rolled her eyes.
If this idiot thinks I’m letting him lock me in that filthy house, he can think again. Dragging her hooves with weariness, Trixie walked slowly back to her trailer. “Oh, no,” she said, trying to stifle a yawn of her own. “Trixie wouldn’t dream of imposing. The trailer has all the comforts she is accustomed to.”
“Suit yourself, I suppose,” Humble returned, shrugging. Turning to make his way, he gave Trixie a casual wave. “See you bright and early. Lots more to do tomorrow.” Trixie forced herself to give him a cheerful wave in return.
Oh, I’ll be up bright and early, Humble. Bright and early and on my way to escape this madness.
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I'm kinda hoping that this whole thing turns out to be an epic deadpan prank.
Well Humble Pie wouldn't be a Pie if he wasn't a bit touched in the head.
Always felt Trixie got the shafted in the MLP universe. She really didn't do anything wrong in the first episode.
I've said it before and I'll say it again. Humble is best pony, yes.
2366454
A pun hasn't reached it's full power until it is agonizingly bad.
2366729 That's what I wanted for Humble. I wanted to make him every bit as insane as Pinkie, but with all the fun removed.
I'm of two minds with Trixie in that first episode. She's not technically doing anything wrong, but she's breaking social laws of etiquette. She's much more rude than she needs to be, and is lying about her background. I don't think she needed to have her life ruined, but she did need to be taken down a peg. I think the fault generally lies in the second episode. In giving her the 'You Ruined My Life' story, they made her punishment from the first episode much greater than it probably should have been.
2367139 Humble is the most fun pony I've ever written, hands down.
2368025
What social rules did she break? She's a performer who was heckled.
As for overstated her abilities. Again part of the performance. It's not her fault that Snips and Snails are idiots who can't tell the difference between fantasy and reality.
Calling her a liar is like calling Sigmund and Roy liars.
2368049 It's going to be a matter of opinion, but I think Trixie is going out of her way in the first episode to start a fight. Once she has achieved it, she works to humiliate, rather than just to best.
The thing here is that it plays on what is important to people and illustrates why social justice is generally not the same as legal justice. We can all agree that theft is generally wrong, but we can't agree on when a lie crosses the line. Lots of people will see building your career off of a lie to be totally unacceptable (Milli Vanilli) whereas other people see it as show business, and what does it matter if you are getting the show you came for. I can see it both ways. I wouldn't really care about the Ursa Minor stuff if it wasn't for Trixie's general cruelty in defeating Applejack, Rainbow, and Rarity. Even that is a grey area for me, as she is a showpony, but I do think that people have a responsibility in society to be decent. I think Trixie is over that line as soon as she hog ties Applejack and stuffs an apple into her mouth.
By the way, folks, I didn't delete that comment. I never delete comments. Just putting that out there.
2368436 Oh, man. Thanks for pointing this stuff out. I'm so bad about it. I'll get in there and fix it pronto!
–Emerging from the darkness, she could see rows and rows of tiny, four-poster beds no wider than her hooves.
“These are the bed rocks,” Humble murmured to her from behind a hoof.
H'oh my god.
–“Now, just go slow, but not too slow. Moderately slow to sub-fast-ish, I’d say.”
Lulz. I'm enjoying this story.
2368665 I'm glad!
This is by far the most ridiculous thing I've written. 
Oh man. This guy.
I understand this mare now. Where she gets it.
2371015 Man, I'm so happy to hear that!
That was my number one goal with this story. I wanted to make a character that could explain Pinkie's upbringing yet reconcile her outlook on life in relation to that upbringing. Thanks so much for reading this. I'll have a new chapter up soon. Probably next Tuesday.
Cute so far! Was hoping to see a little of Pinkie's sisters, but I can see it working this way too.
2371992 I've been back and forth over whether to put any of the rest of the family in, but their absence is really the motivation for the story. I might bring them in at the end. I haven't fully decided.
Thanks for reading this! It's a labor of love, so it's great that other people are interested in reading it.
2373224
I suppose I'm worried that the premise might run out of steam with just Mr. Pie and Trixie as the only characters. It can work, mind you, but there'd need to be some kind of dynamic between the two of them beyond Trixie's humiliation and Mr. Pie's off-kilter stoicism.
Honestly, the reason I initially read it was to see what kind of personality you gave the sisters (as we know nothing about them in the show), but I found the idea that Mr. Pie might or might not be insane pretty charming.
2375912 I don't want to give too much away, but their relationship will evolve. I certainly hope that you will like the places I'm planning on taking the story, but I assure you it won't all be just her arrogance versus his stoic insanity.
Looks entertaining. Added to Twilight's Library.
2377961 Thanks for reading it!
I like to imagine Clyde/Humble Pie lost his damn mind in the war or he can really communicate with the rocks.
Call the police.
Mr. Pie... I like that guy.
Nice job with his personality, man.
~Skeeter The Lurker
This may be the best version of Pinkie's father I have even encountered in a pony story, and I have read a lot of pony stories so that isn't a minor accomplishment.
Now time to sleep with some little rocks.
Crazy old stallion.