A certain chef's assitant from Chowder appears in Equestria. Oh, the hijinks!
Schnitzel hated his lot in life, but carried on every day, knowing tomorrow could always be better, provided Chowder didn't eat all the food again or set the kitchen on fire.
Then he woke up in a magical place after accidentally inhaling too much Pizazz.
(I loved this show, by the way. Also, I know the way he's spelled in the picture is different from how I've spelled it, but come on; his name is based on a real food.)
“Schnitzel! Fetch me more Pizazz! We need to get this Fillet Ping Pong dish ready for a customer!”
The rock creature known as Schnitzel sighed, hauling himself away from his current job of mopping up the remains of Chowder’s slobber a few minutes before. Seriously, how could that little… cat thing eat so much in so short a time, and yet spill so much of it out of his mouth and all over the place? Of course, Schnitzel had to be the one to clean up; always him, never anyone else.
“Radda radda,” the lumbering creature muttered to himself, reaching up and pulling the big shaker full of Pizazz off of the top shelf. He turned and walked over to the dish Mung Daal was making; he didn’t know what it was made of, but to him, it looked like an obese frog’s bladder. It probably tasted like one too, but as little as he was paid, Schnitzel knew to keep his mouth shut most of the time.
“Ah, yes, thank you Schnitzel; Chowder, you can have the honor of dusting this dish,” the blue, big-nosed chef said, his long white mustache flowing from the hot air of his breath. "Just remember to not overdo it like last time; we don't want our minds switching bodies again."
“Radda radda,” Schnitzel said as Chowder rushed over and grabbed the shaker away from him. Thankfully their hands hadn't touched, or else Schnitzel would have had to wash his hands again before going back to work. Seriously, the grease and sweat that kid excreted...
“Oh boy! Pizazz! AHAHAHAHA!” Chowder shouted as he unscrewed the top and absolutely poured the dusty additive onto the dish.
"No Chowder, that's too much!" Mung shouted, rushing for the apprentice. But it was too late: the resulting explosion of the stuff blew the roof off of the place and sent Schnitzel into the far wall, as usual, his lungs absolutely full of the stuff. Cracks formed all along the wall where he had hit, and soon enough, the entire kitchen collapsed in on istle like some sort of culinary black hole. Then, mercifully, Schnitzel blacked out as Chowder was screaming something in background and Mung was pulling himself out from underneath a slab of custard-coated concrete.
.......
The first thing Schnitzel heard was a group of giggling voices that sounded suspiciously like little girls. Chowder was conspicuously afraid of one young girl in particular, so he probably wasn't around. Opening his eyes in confusion, the rocky fellow saw he wasn’t in the kitchen anymore. In fact, he’d never seen a place like this before; trees and birds and a sun that didn’t have a face. In fact, it looked more like a painting, and not an abstract one like where he was from.
The first thing he did was smile, something he had not done in quite a while. Then he started shouting for joy, running around in small circles like a dog, or Chowder sometimes, chasing its tail.
“Radda! Radda radda! Radda radda radda, radda!” The heavens could have heard his shouts of joy, for all he cared. He was free! Free from that kitchen, from Chowder and Mung Daal, from all that cooking and-,
“Howdy mister!” a voice said, causing his line of happy thoughts to derail, killing several passengers in the ensuing blaze.
Looking down in surprise, Schnitzel saw not one, but three pastel-colored ponies. They were absolutely tiny, barely reaching his knee. “Radda?” he asked. Maybe he’d inhaled more Pizazz than he thought…
“Radda? What kind of word is that?” the small orange one asked, her little wings flapping every now and then. “I’ve never heard it before.”
“Me neither, and I’ve read the dictionary like, twice,” the small white one said, her pink mane bobbing every now and then.
“Maybe that’s how he says hello! Radda mister!” the small yellowish one said, her bright pink bow bobbing in time with her head as she talked. “My name’s Applebloom, and these are my friends Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo. What’s yer name?”
“Radda? Radda radda!” Schnitzel replied, unsure if he had ingested some of Mung Daal’s cooking in the explosion as well as the Pizazz. This couldn’t be real, right? Talking pastel ponies greeting a rock monster from a culinary show…
Damn, it was real.
“I think radda is all he can say,” the one called Scootaloo said.
“Or that could be his name as well?” the one called Sweetie Belle replied. “Maybe his parents named him after a greeting, hoping he’d be friendly?”
“Sound like a mighty weird thing ta name yer child,” Applebloom said, walking up to Schnitzel. “Maybe we should name him?”
“How about Rocky?” Sweetie Belle asked, poking her hoof against his shin. “His skin is hard like a rock, and cold too.”
“Nah, that name’s too mainstream,” Scootlaoo said, her hidden hipster side showing for a brief second. “What about Stoner?”
“I don’t think other ponies would like it if we called some stranger Stoner,” Applebloom said, thinking. He was wearing what looked to be an apron of some kind, so he had to work in a kitchen… “Didja work in a kitchen, mister?”
Schnitzel decided talking wouldn’t get him anywhere just yet, so he just nodded.
“Are ya named after a food of some kind?” Applebloom asked. It may have sounded like a stupid question to some, but having grown up visiting a bakery run by a Mr. and Mrs. Cake, Applebloom had the distinct feeling this... thing would be similarly named. In fact, maybe she could eventually find out just what he was.
The rock thing nodded again. This little filly seemed to have a good head on her shoulders, unlike some of the other kids he knew that were around her age. Chowder for instance; completely dense and annoying.
“Is your name Butters?” Scootaloo asked. cocking her head to the side slightly.
Schnitzel shook his head. He couldn’t imagine ever being taken seriously by any... pony here if his name was Butters.
“Rutabaga?” Sweetie Belle asked. Another shake of the head from the rock creature; wrong answer.
“Dumpling?”
“Cupcakes?”
“Watermelon?”
“Pears?”
“Cauliflower?”
“Eggplant?”
“Persimmon?”
“Bagel?”
“Who’d name their kid Bagel?”
“Well, what kind of fruity parents would name their kid Persimmon?”
Applebloom hadn’t said anything, looking at the rock thing’s apron with an inspector’s eye. There, above a small pocket, she saw a name. “Schnitzel?” she asked.
“Radda radda,” the aforementioned rock creature said, crossing his eyes and nodding his head.
“Aw, Schnitzel was my next guess,” Scootaloo said, kicking a small rock with her foot. It had actually been “Sausage”, but she didn’t want them to know that.
"You think we should bring him into town? I don't see anywhere for him to stay out here," Sweetie Belle said, looking around the area. Indeed, in terms of suitable living for a creature as large and stone-looking as this Schnitzel, the housing market was nonexistent. Damn real estate price hikes...
"What about the other ponies?" Scootaloo asked. "He's not exactly normal looking by our standards, and if everypony reacted to Zecora like they did, then how are they gonna react to Schnitzel?"
"He's harmless, if a little goofy-looking," Sweetie Belle said, poking him in the knee again with her hoof. "Come on, what's the worst that could happen?"
"He gets chased out with torches and pitchforks?" Scootaloo guessed.
Schnitzel wasn't feeling the love here, and he wasn't sure he enjoyed being called "goofy-looking" by a little pony.
“The town's learned from their mistakes, so I reckon it'll be safe fer him ta come into town. So, Schnitzel, wanna see Ponyville?” Applebloom asked, hoping he would say yes.
The rock creature paused, rubbing his chin in thought. Well, he was away from Chowder and Mung Daal, and this place seemed nice enough, even if the one named after a scooter said other ponies might react badly to his presence. Oh well; he was a friendly-enough guy, right? He could make friends no problem. “Radda radda,” he replied, shrugging his shoulders. He didn’t exactly have anything pressing to do, so why not?
“I’ll take that as a yes,” Sweetie Belle said. This "Schnitzel's" language was impossible to understand, but at least he knew about nodding and shaking his head for "yes" and "no", or else they'd never get anything done.
The three little fillies led their new-found companion out of the woods and into Ponyville, which in Schnitzel’s eyes, seemed plain and yet so quaint. He was beginning to think he may have died and gone to some sort of bizarre heaven, devoid of Chowder and his previous line of work; the best kind of heaven, indeed. Sure, the locals angels seemed a bit strange, but he, he could get used to this.
“Say, if he’s got experience in the kitchen, maybe he could help us with our cutie marks!” Applebloom said as they approached the bakery. Every pony they passed either ignored them or just stared at Schnitzel like he were some bizarre balloon before carrying on with their business. Judging from his body type, everypony who paid attention would have thought he was a bit overweight and about as harmful-looking as a sack of moldy potatoes. “Schnitzel, what do you know about cooking?”
The rock thing blanched slightly at this, but hey, these weren’t like his former employers back at home, so maybe things would turn out differently? "Radda radda," he replied in a noncommittal tone. Sure, he knew how to cook; after practically living in that kitchen and watching Mung do all that "work", he had learned a few things. Like never put frozen food in the oven, or never put jalapenos in marshmallow treats.
"Hey, Mr. and Mrs. Cake, you mind if we us yer spare oven fer some cookin'? We're tryin' ta get our cutie marks!" Applebloom said as they entered the bakery.
"Sure thing dearie, only be sure to clean up your mess after you're done!" Mrs. Cake called from behind the counter, where she was too busy filing tax reports and ordering more insulin for Pinkie Pie to notice Schnitzel. Seriously, that girl ate so many sweets she'd likely grow to the size of a house in a few short years. "If you need any help, just give us a yell!"
"Aw, shucks, we won't be needin' any help," Applebloom said to her friends. "We got Schnitzel here ta help us! What's the worst that could happen?"
*Queue cooking montage*
"No, no, the cookie sheet goes in the oven, not on the stove!"
"Radda? Radda radda radda!"
"That's what I told her! We need ingredients on the sheet before we bake anything."
"Radda radda."
"Hey, y'all know the difference between tsp and tbsp?"
"I think that's "teaspoon" and "tea butter spoon."
"What's tea butter?"
"Radda? Radda radda, radda!"
"I don't know; how much is a cup?"
"Are you sure we should mix that cooking oil with that milk?"
"We need a leavening agent. Now, what's a leavening agent again?"
"Radda radda, radda radda, radda radda radda!"
"Yer right, Schnitzel; cooking is fun!"
"Hey, what's the difference between baking soda and soda? I just put some Coach-a-Cola in instead, will that work?"
"Hey, do you guys smell something burning?"
*End cooking montage*
It took thirty minutes for the firefighters to put out the grease fire on the bakery’s oven, with three little fillies and one rather scorched-looking Schnitzel standing off to the side. A crowd of ponies had gathered to watch the firefighters bring out the remains of several kitchen utensils and the smoke alarm, which had sadly not survived all that smoke inhalation. It could only take so much; the funeral would be later that week, with a twenty-one spell salute as a finishing touch.
“Well, I guess that’s the last time I try to make a banana smoothie,” Sweetie Belle said with a sad frown, knowing the olive oil/ketchup combo coating her rump was going to give her sister a heart attack. “No cooking cutie marks for us, I guess.”
“We were making a smoothie?” Scootaloo asked, some strawberry daiquiri dripping from her tail. “I thought we were making French toast! That’s why I had the eggs and syrup ready!”
“Then why did y’all ask me fer the lettuce and and a block of blue cheese if we were makin’ a smoothie?” Applebloom asked, trying to scrape some burned peanut butter off of her bow. “I don’t even like that kind of cheese! And tell me again, why did we need that mixing bowl full of cake batter and jalapeno peppers?”
“Radda radda,” Schintzel said to himself, putting his face in his hands. No, this wasn't some kind of heaven, and this wasn’t like home at all.
“Girls, I know you didn’t mean for this to happen, but to help pay for the damages, you are going to have to help the Cakes clean up all this mess, and do chores for them until they can afford a new oven,” Twilight Sparkle said, looking down on the three young fillies. To think, she had had her whole day planned out doing experiments with Spike on the properties of reptilian mating rituals, only to find out the Cutie Mark Crusaders had brought in some unknown creature and tried cooking.
Her assistant would be devastated; he’d even shined his scales for the occasion, something she usually had to do by holding him down and scrubbing him with a floor buffer.
“Well, I guess that’s fair considerin’ it was us that started that fire,” Applebloom said, nudging the ground with a hoof. “But what about our friend, Schnitzel? He don’t have a home, and he didn’t have anything ta do with that fire startin’. He even tried puttin’ it out before the fireponies showed up!”
“Radda radda, radda radda,” the stone creature said, motioning to the scorch marks all over his body. Somehow, his apron was untouched, a fact for which he was grateful. Otherwise he’d be naked, and unlike these ponies, he came from a place where clothes were pretty much a necessity no matter where you were; except for the shower and bath, of course. Plus, he hadn’t packed any extra aprons.
“Well, that is very... heroic of him, but if he’s going to stay anywhere, it’ll have to be with somepony with an extra room. None of the inns, so far as I can remember, have any spare rooms, what with that convention in town,” Twilight said, rubbing her chin with a hoof. What was that convention about, again? Something about... brownies? No, no, it didn’t have a “w” in it, and Lyra was head of the festivities...
“Whattabout you, Twilight?” Applebloom asked. “D’ya think Schnitzel here could stay in the library with ya until we find him some place ta live?”
“Well, I do have an extra room all cleared out, but it was going to be my new clopfic section,” Twilight said slowly, not realizing just what she was saying until it was too late.
“What’s a clopfic?” Scootaloo asked, cocking her head to the side like a dog who had heard a weird noise.
“I-I’ll tell you when you’re older,” the purple unicorn replied quickly. When the pegasus filly didn’t press the question, she breathed an internal sigh of relief; now that was a close one.
“So, can he stay with you?” Sweetie Belle asked sweetly, her little pouty face accidentally giving a passing firepony diabetes. She knew her biggest punishment would be when she got home; Rarity, if she survived the shock, would likely douse her in bleach to prevent the ketchup/olive oil on her from staining her coat. Why else were their coats so white and pristine? Rarity was addicted to using bleach.
“I’ll have to write to Celestia about this, but for the time being, I don’t see why not,” Twilight said, watching as the rock creature stood up. “Now girls, if you’ll excuse me, your friend Schnitzel needs to move in and make himself at home.”
“Radda radda,” he said to the three small fillies, giving them a small wave of goodbye before following the purple unicorn away from the bakery. Looking around the town, he came to realize something; there were a lot of mares here, and by a lot, he meant almost all of them. Seriously, everywhere he looked, he was lucky if he saw one stallion for a good seventeen mares.
Chowder’s friend Gazpacho would have a fear-induced heart attack/stroke combo; everyone knew he was scared of girls. After a few minutes of walking, Twilight stopped at the library doors. To the rock creature, her home would have looked utterly ridiculous, except for the fact he lived in a place that looked like a giant tea kettle. “Here we are, Mr. Schnitzel,” she said, opening the door and walking inside. “Mind your-,”
*Bonk*
“-head,” she finished sheepishly as Schnitzel grumbled and rubbed his face. He was a good two feet taller than the door was, and Twilight’s own head barely reached his waist. He was likely the tallest living creature in this town, so long as some recluse didn’t have a giraffe or something stored away.
“Radda radda?” Schnitzel asked, pointing at some scented candles and plastic sheets covering an area of the library floor.
“Oh, right, that,” the purple unicorn said, blushing slightly. “Spike? Spike! I’m sorry, but we can’t continue our research today; we have a visitor who’ll be staying with us for a while.”
“Aw, shucks, I was going to surprise you!” the little dragon shouted, his perch upon a bookcase they were passing no longer a suitable hiding place.
“Don’t worry, Spike, you’ll get plenty of time later to... investigate what we discussed earlier,” Twilight said with a wink. “For now, could you clean this up?”
“Yeah, yeah, I’ll get right on that,” Spike said, jumping down from the shelf and starting to pack everything up. “Who’s this?” he added, pointing at Schnitzel.
“Oh, Schnitzel, meet Spike: Spike, Schnitzel,” Twilight said. “He’ll be staying with us for some time.”
“Hey,” Spike said to the tall rock creature.
“Radda,” was all Schnitzel said in reply. This dragon seemed cool, and for once in this town, was actually a male. If he turned out to be anything like Chowder, though, Schnitzel would have no choice but to never let him be by him, if only for his own safety.
“Before we get you settled in, Schnitzel, I’d like to run a few things by you: is that is all right?” Twilight asked as Spike finished shoving the “studying” materials into an already-cramped closet.
“Hey, there’s where my sandwich from last week went to!” the dragon exclaimed. “Mmm, still good as the day I lost it.”
Schnitzel thought he was going to be sick, but he swallowed the rising vomit enough so that he gave the purple unicorn a nod in agreement. Certainly whatever she had planned couldn’t be worse than what those three little fillies had put him through, right?
“All right, first I’m going to ask you a few questions, so if you’d make yourself comfortable in this chair, I’ll be right with you,” Twilight said as she walked off, quickly pointing at a rather uncomfortable-looking chair to Schnitzel’s right. The rock creature sat down in it, only for his great weight to crush the legs into toothpicks. In a shower of teeth-cleaning debris, he landed on his bottom, the “seat” of the chair somehow still intact after that. Grumbling and rubbing his backside a bit, he just sat there until Twilight returned, this time with a scroll and some ink.
“Now, tell me, where are you from?” she asked.
“Radda radda, radda, radda radda radda, radda,” Schnitzel said, starting to go into great detail of his early childhood.
“Um... is radda all you can say?” Twilight asked.
“Radda? Radda radda radda! Radda radda, radda radda radda,” Schnitzel replied, feigning deep hurt for her being so culturally insensitive. This was the language he had always spoken, ever since the day he was born. It was the language of a proud race, a race of culinary warriors and war chefs stretching back thousands of years! Why, the very thought-
“I’ll take that as a yes,” Twilight said, circling her phrase “can only say ‘radda’ to communicate” on her piece of parchment. “Okay, since a verbal response is out of the question, and I would hate to aggravate your head injury any further by any nodding and shaking, I’d like it if you’d just respond to “yes” questions with one finger raised, and “no” with two fingers.” Yes, Twilight knew what fingers were; dragons had very dexterous hands, something Lyra Heartstrings had found out the other day when Spike gave her a massage.
The smell of an emptied bladder still lingered in a select few places.
Schnitzel sighed; well, at least this was better than trying to cook with those little fillies.
“Are you not from Equestria?”
One finger, the thickness of it reminding Twilight of some kind of soy sausage, coined a “soysauge” by both Pinkie Pie and New Jersneigh ponies everywhere, rose up.
“Are you a male?”
Almost shouting in indignation (seriously, did she not hear his deep and smooth baritone voice?), Schnitzel raised the same finger again.
“Those little things on the top of your head: are they your ears?”
One finger again; Schnitzel never realized just how odd he may have looked to these ponies. His head was square, as were his little ears, and he walked upright; no wonder the ponies who had seen him and paid attention seemed so confused. Plus, his toes looked like that of a dinosaur, and his hands were merely blobs on the ends of his arms, complete with his sausage-like fingers.
All in all, a very strange creature to these locals, indeed.
“Do you know how you came to be in Equestria?”
Two fingers this time, held aloft in what Schnitzel knew to be the “peace” sign, but Twilight saw only as a V, like the symbol gangster ponies made with their front legs when signaling to one another it was time to raid the passing ice cream wagon. Inner cities were a dangerous place for confectionary treats and such, especially when the retards emerged from the shadows.
“I can tell you understand what I’m saying, so I’ll skip any other language questions,” Twilight said, crossing out a few hastily-scribbled questions. “Do you have any other clothes with you besides that apron?”
Two fingers. Hopefully she knew some tailor or something, and since he wasn’t working in Mung Daal’s kitchen, Schnitzel would finally be able to get some clothes that not only fit right, but he wanted to actually wear. Maybe some slacks, a bowler hat, and a nice suit? He liked to look classy, if even only in his dreams.
“Okay, so, according to the Cutie Mark Crusaders, your previous occupation involved... cooking, correct?”
One finger. Okay, Schnitzel had to admit, this wasn’t so bad. Answering yes and no questions, or getting set on fire by three baking-deficient fillies? Questions were nice.
“Have you ever been in a relationship before?”
Okay, that was a fly ball that went waaay out into left field. “Radda?” Schnitzel asked, raising one finger.
“Just checking; there are a lot of rules to follow in Equestria, some of which are easier to understand if one is single. Okay, now, have you or have you not ever been in an accident of some kind before today?”
Schnitzel’s single finger almost exploded, he raised it so fast. Oh, if this pony could understand all the pain he’d been through, she’d likely put him in some sort of nice, padded room, hoping he didn’t just break and smashing through walls or rearrange the alphabet or something.
“I guess you have,” Twilight muttered, circling “possible recipe for disaster” under Schnitzel’s name. “Okay, have you ever heard of magic?”
Schnitzel snickered; magic? That was all fake, merely a sleight of the hand or something. So, two fingers; he was tempted to do three, just to mess with her, but decided against it.
“Ah, well, this may come as a shock to you, but in Equestria, us unicorns are capable of magic,” Twilight said, and as if to demonstrate, levitated a book from one shelf to another.
Schnitzel, if he could have, would have shouted something about witch, but managed to suppress it.
“Okay, okay, so do you eat primarily plant matter?”
Schnitzel shrugged, raising one finger. He’d enjoy a good salad now and then, but the meats of Marzipan City were always on his mind. Then again, in a world of ponies, he didn’t exactly believe he’d be getting meat anytime soon, so best to go with the flow for the time being.
“Okay, so as for a little side test, I’m going to test your reflex in your legs,” Twilight said, magically summoning a small hammer and hovering near the rock creature’s knees. “Let me know if you can feel this.”
*Tap
Two fingers; wow, Schnitzel wouldn’t have even know he’d been touched if he hadn’t watched it for himself.
*Tap Tap
Okay, that must have been harder, but for the life of him, Schnitzel didn’t feel that either. Maybe she just trying to not hurt him? He was stone, though, so maybe she couldn’t hurt him, even if she tr-
*SLAM
With the room spinning and tears forming in his eyes, Schnitzel clutched his sides, almost wheezing from the sheer force of the hammer tapping his knee. Okay, this was just as bad, if not worse, than the fillies from before.
“Did you feel that?” Twilight asked.
One finger this time; the middle one.
“Okay, enough of that,” the unicorn said. “Now we’re going to test your conductivity to magic and electricity. Don't worry, it'll be painless."
Schnitzel sighed; great, just great. He’d gone from being burned by some fillies’ terrible cooking to being some unicorn’s test subject.
After a troubling series of experiments, which included but were not limited to buoyancy properties, electrical conductivity, flame-resistance and ticklishness, Schnitzel was finally able to climb into the small bed in the spare room. Night was falling rapidly, and Spike had already gone off to bed, though why he had brought a sock with him, Schnitzel didn;t want to know. Sadly, the bed he lay in suddenly collapsed under his weight, the legs giving out as if under the weight of Tom, but he didn’t care; he was too tired to care anymore. Maybe he could care tomorrow, if his caring batteries had a chance to recharge during sleepy-time.
“Radda radda,” he muttered to himself, closing his eyes and attempting to drift off to sleep. This place was indeed a rather strange, and at times, scary place to live, even if he had been here for only a few hours. Still, if Schnitzel had to admit one thing, it was that it was still at least a bit better than his life back in Marzipan City. By now, Chowder would have undoubtedly drawn him into some harebrained scheme, likely having something to do with that rabbit Panini who had an unhealthy crush on the young cat-thing. As much as Schnitzel tried to have nothing to do with Chowder, usually out of a sense of self-preservation, he couldn’t help but feel sorry for him at times.
With that final (and surprisingly tender) thought, the rock creature managed to drift off to sleep, his body as tired as could be. The images in his mind flickered from coherent to utter randomness, and son became something else entirely.
High up in the castle of Canterlot, Luna was watching the dreams of her citizens through her mind’s eye, letting them flicker in and out as if they were nothing more than a roll of film. Her mental facilities were great enough that she could do this without strain, and her magic helped her as well.
After exiting a rather bizarre dream of Sweetie Belle’s that involved a tire and a tofu blender, Luna’s inner eyes swung towards the town library, where Twilight and Spike lay resting. Zooming in on Twilight’s dream, she saw what she usually saw: bright pink elephants reading books, performing trigonometry and balancing on unicycles, all at the same time. Luna knew something was wrong if Twilight didn’t have a dream similar to that; she was insanely sane, so much so others might never have guessed it from her dreams.
Switching over to Spike, Luna peered into his subconscious and saw two dreams at once. Adult dragons could dream like this, but for one so young, it was a bit unusual. In one, Spike was a mare’s dream stallion, going around and wooing mare after mare after mare, the trail of fainting and love-struck ponies stretching as far as the eye could see. She saw ponies of all shapes and sizes, many of them mares she had seen in Ponyville and Canterlot.
All of age, of course; he wasn’t some scumbag like Luna's nephew.
However, Spike’s other dream was something else entirely. Smoke was rising from burning skyscrapers as a giant orange-ish and bipedal lobster-thing walked around, scarfing up garbage and whatever else it could get its two massive claws on. The ground shook as it moved, ponies running everywhere as it carved a swath of destruction brought on by some old scientists' dream of giant stuff. Then, from a distant plume of smoke, emerged two enormous figures: a giant metal... monkey? It was upright, but had a horn and seemed to have an affinity for alcohol, as it drained an entire brewery in mere seconds. Next to it emerged a massive green and purple dragon, roaring defiantly at the mega-lobster. The titans of steel and scale gave each other fist-bumps and charged the gigantic lobster creature, shouting what must have been catch-phrases or something equally ridiculous.
“I’ll have to tell Twilight that Spike may have some issues,” Luna muttered to herself as she left the dream amidst a massive blast from the giant dragon. “Now, where is that-,”
She stopped; there was another presence at the library, one she had never felt before. In fact, it was unlike anything she had ever felt; alien to an extreme, but close enough to her own thoughts that she had little trouble penetrating the fog that enshrouded it. Had Twilight found some new sentient creature? She had yet to read the notes she received during the day, as she was asleep at that time. Peering deeper into the creature’s dreams, she nearly fell to her knees in-dream at what she saw.
Blazing colors flew across the largest kitchen she had ever seen. It was nearly as large as the palace she lived in, and yet... it was so empty. Shelves were everywhere, along with some kind of chandelier, but other than that, there was just so much... empty space. High above, smoke billowed out of a special-designed spout, and her eyes followed the trail down to an utterly massive oven. Seriously you could bake... at least four witches in that thing, provided the foals that pushed them it weren’t vaporized when they opened it.
Upon hearing thundering footsteps, Luna turned from her invisible spot to see a lumbering creature headed towards the oven. Rippling thighs, bulging biceps, a broadly-muscled back and toned abs, all somehow visible under a tight kitchen apron; it strode with a purpose matched in size only by its long, flowing locks of golden hair. With the strength of twenty – no, thirty stallions, it seemed to effortlessly open the blast-door-resembling oven and, with what appeared to be the utter thinnest of oven mitts, pulled forth from within...
“Buns of... steel?” Luna asked, watching as the light glinted magnificently off of the processed iron baked goods. Were those things even edible?
The creature, with a simple flick of its long hair, shut the oven behind it and set the tray of buns down on a table crafted from what appeared to be the finest concrete twenty bits could buy. The table creaked and somehow squeaked under the weight, but the massive creature seemed not to care. The heat from the tray seemed not to bother him at all, even as the glow of the furnace somehow shone from his slightly sweaty hide. Upon turning the oven off and putting away the mitts, he slowly strode by Luna’s spot, only to fix his eyes on her in sudden realization.
That face. That chin. That eye; okay, there were two of them, but Luna felt her mind go a bit dizzy as the creature looked down upon her, the lips forming a thin line. It appeared to be in thought as to her appearance in this kitchen of the gods; perhaps this was a cook of ultimate power, whose works surpassed even those of legend? The one called Boyardee had long ago created culinary works that had started mini-wars between the royal sisters, and the Pillsbury sect of the baker’s religion had long ago passed into obscurity, but this... creature seemed to be all they ever were, and so much more.
“Radda,” it said, its husky, smooth and baritone voice snapping Luna out of her dream-state altogether. There had been very few times that had ever happened, and those had all taken effort. This one just merely had to say that one beautiful, if a bit mystifying, word, and she was gone in an instant.
Rising from where she had somehow fallen to her knees, Luna tried to pry her way into the dream once more, but it was shut to her. That also practically never happened, and deciding it would be best to not try and press her luck, Luna instead walked over to her desk and began to write a letter.
Early that morning, Celestia knew something would have to be done about this “Schnitzel” Twilight had informed her of. The creature, according to the notes, seemed rather harmless, if a bit unsure of itself in Equestria, and perhaps she, being a princess, could invite him to stay in Canterlot in order to keep an eye on him. She too wanted to meet this creature, and perhaps-
“Sister!” Luna called, barging into Celestia’ personal quarters despite the do-not-disturb sign on the outer door. “We wish to speak with thee about the creature called Schnitzel!”
“Oh, um, Luna...” Celestia said, realizing she had been caught red-hoofed. She couldn’t have hid the evidence, even if she had tried.
Luna’s eyes widened at the sight before her. “You... you... you took him to bed with you? Even after we promised it was my turn this week?!”
“Luna, please, it was an honest mistake. I’ve been having trouble sleeping, and only he can give me the comfort I need!” Celestia replied, cuddling slightly against the poor thing in bed with her. He really didn’t know what was happening.
“But... but... but you promised!” Luna cried out. “He is my special friend! How could you just... take him without asking? How could you just taken Mr. Teddy?”
The teddy bear in question didn’t say a word, being wise enough to know when to stay quiet. Also, he lacked vocal cords.
“Look, Luna, I’m sorry, but can we move onto something else?” Celestia said, worried her sister was going to cry. “Here, you can have him for the next week as well.”
“That’s not good enough, sister,” Luna said, advancing in a dangerous manner, a gleam in her eyes that even Celestia had learned to respect and fear. Oh no, she wasn't going to cry: she was going to do something much worse.
“Two weeks!” Celestia said as her sister grabbed a pillow from the foot of the bed. Luna was the pillow-fighting champion of Canterlot three years running, and it had only been going on for two years. That was how skilled she was.
“You’re getting warmer!” Luna shouted through the pillow’s corner as she dove at her sister.
Under the merciless pillow assault, all Celestia could do was try and stage a counterassault with her own pillow, but Luna’s smaller size gave her a distinct advantage. She could dodge; her big sister was a bigger target, as was still a bit groggy.
“Three weeks, and for the upcoming holidays too!” Celestia shouted as the pillow relentlessly smacked her flank.
“Deal!” Luna said, letting the pillow fly loose from her mouth as she did so. Sadly, one of the guards outside had come in to check the noise, and flew back down the hall from the sheer force of the colliding projectile. “Now, about the one called Schnitzel...”
Meanwhile, in Ponyville, a certain rock creature was waking up to something that smelled delicious. Immediately recognizing that this couldn’t have been Mung’s kitchen, he put his apron back on and slowly made his way out of the spare room and into what he believed to be the kitchen. It was hard to tell, what with the sheer amount of books everywhere. You’d think a library would be a bit more organized.
“Oh, you’re awake!” a voice said, causing Schnitzel to look down. Spike was slaving away at a stove, piling untold numbers of what could only be flapjacks, toast and... grass? Oh, right; ponies. “You hungry?”
“Radda radda,” Schnitzel said, walking over to seat himself at the table. Wow, it felt good for once to not be the one helping with all the cooking. Gingerly, he sat down on the chair, hoping-
Crunch. Dammit, again with the flimsy furniture not being enough to support his bulk. These ponies; had they ever heard of steel before, or even bronze? Why was everything made of wood? It was a fire hazard just waiting to happen, and with a dragon living in a library, one of the most flame-friendly places in the world outside of a match and gasoline factory, one would really have to be careful to avoid spontaneous combustion.
“Here you go,” Spike said, handing the lumbering rock creature a pile of flapjacks. Gingerly biting into one, Schnitzel immediately liked it. Maybe the fact it wasn’t still moving from some partially-alive ingredient Mung always used gave it a taste he liked. Digging in from his position on the floor, he looked up to see Twilight walk in, her mane all fuzzy and her eyes a bit watery. Must have still been tired; or she suddenly had a cold.
“Hey, Spike,” she said, her words slurring slightly. “Didja get any mail this fine morning?”
“Actually, I did,” the small dragon said, handing her a letter. “From Celestia, though both she and Luna signed it. I wish I knew why; must be important.”
Twilight, rubbing her eyes and magically unfurling the scroll, intently read it for a few short seconds. “Well, Schnitzel, it seems you won’t be staying with us much longer,” she said.
What? They were going to kill him? Come on, he just got here, and despite his previous treatment, he was beginning to like it here! “Radda radda!” he cried out, to make his point even clearer.
“It seems the princesses want you to stay in Canterlot, possibly helping prepare food,” Twilight said. “Although if you are going to live there, then you’ll need some of the finest clothes bits can buy. Luckily for you, we have an excellent seamstress here in Ponyville who I’m sure would love to help you.”
Oh great; trading a mildly crazy librarian for two princesses who wanted him to cook. Schnitzel mentally shrugged as he continued to eat. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all.
So long as he didn’t have to put out any more kitchen fires or undergo some strenuous tests, he’d be okay, right?
“Well, Twilight, I’m most certainly flattered you’d come to me first, but don’t you think there could be others out there more suited for... what was his name again?” Rarity asked. “Tinsel?”
“Schnitzel,” Twilight said.
“Schnitzel... charming. Don’t you think others would be more suited for this?” the white unicorn asked. “I mean, his skin tone -if you can call that skin- doesn’t match any of the clothes I already have prepared.”
“He’s going to need something from scratch, Rarity, and he’ll need clothes like that if he’s going to Canterlot,” Twilight replied.
“Canterlot? Why on earth would he be going there?” Rarity asked, leaning forward as if trying to absorb the information from Twilight’s brain through eye contact.
“The princesses requested he be there, and since he’ll need clothes, I-,”
“Say no more, Twilight,” the white unicorn said to the purple, placing a dainty hoof over her mouth to stop the librarian mid-sentence. “If it was the princesses wish, then I shall accept your plea and give Mr. Tinsel-,”
“Schnitzel,” Twilight corrected again.
“-Schnitzel a proper set of clothes. Though, if you wouldn’t mind, do you think you could help me fetch some supplies from those cupboards over there?” Rarity asked, flicking her mane in the proper direction as she walked over to the rock creature. “Just scissors, measuring tape and the like; no need to go overboard, even if it is for a guest of the princesses.”
“Rarity, I’m not sure I’ve ever seen you so calm when dealing with matters of royalty,” Twilight said as she walked over to retrieve the supplies.
“Yes, well, it wouldn’t do good for me to make a bad impression on Mr. Shitzel-,”
“Schnitzel, Rarity: Schnitzel,” Twilight said again with a huff. Did this mare ever listen to a word anypony else said?
“Yes, of course: it wouldn’t do good for me to make a bad impression on the good... sir, and I need him to be in a cooperative mood for us to properly measure him. Darling, if you would please stand up, we can begin.”
“Radda?” Schnitzel asked, having zoned out slightly looking at all of the colorful fabrics this pony had hanging around her home. “Radda, radda radda.” Standing up, he took the stance any normal Marzipan City resident would have taken if they were just, well, standing. Paying attention to the ponies walking around by his knees, the rock creature watched as a measuring tape levitated in front of the white one. What was her name again? Eatery or something?
“Now, dear, if you could be so kind as to just hold up your... arms, we can begin,” Rarity said.
“Radda,” Schnitzel said with a nod, doing as he was told. Instantly the tape was stretched out, the magically-hovering materials whizzing between his body and Rarity’s eyes.
“Twilight, dear, take these measurements down on that pad of paper, will you? I have a feeling we’ll be here a while,” Rarity said. “He is quite larger than any other client I’ve had, you know.”
“Of course, Rarity,” Twilight said, secretly giddy at the chance to take down numbers and perform calculations.
Oh, Rarity: that was her name. Well, given she didn’t exactly look like any of the other unicorns in this town, except for that Sweetie Belle, he had to guess the name suited her. Still Schnitzel didn’t like the way she kept glancing at his paunchy belly. Sure, he wasn’t in as good of shape as he once was, but he was still plenty strong and limber and... stuff!
As Rarity rattled off some numbers and Twilight scribbled them down like a perso- ahem, pony possessed, Schnitzel noticed something peculiar about this place. It seemed as though this Rarity not only lived here, but worked here as well. Jeez, what a sad and lonely life, judging from the lack of any paraphernalia signifying there was a significant someone, er, somepony else in her life. Wow, a workaholic at a rather insignificant business with not much to show for it and without somepony to call their own?
Her life eerily mirrored Schnitzel’s own, or at least, did so in his mind. Still, it beat working at Mung’s: this place at least smelled nicer than that kitchen.
“Schneetzel, you may lower your arms now,” Rarity said, earning a face-hoof from Twilight off in her special corner. “Radda,” he replied, doing as she said. In all seriousness, could she not remember his name? It was simple, easy to pronounce and... yeah, that might have been asking too much of this seamstress.
“Okay, I’m going to go with a loose-sleeve design, so as to accommodate the large fatty tissue built up around his arms,” Rarity said, glancing over at Twilight. “Got that, dear?”
“Yes: loose-sleeve design to accommodate the excessive addition of lipids under the thick dermal layer of the biped’s appendages,” Twilight said, looking up only to see the two confused faces of Rarity and Schnitzel. “What?”
“Nevermind,” Rarity said quickly as her tape measure wrapped around the rock creature’s waist. “Oh, I’m going to need an extra-extra-large waistband for Mr. Schnitzo here; he’s rather rotund.”
“Radda?” Schnitzel said, poking gently at his own belly. Sure, he could push until his finger disappeared up to his knuckle, but come on, she didn’t have to be so blatant when it came to his physique!
“Hmm, I don’t think he’ll be wearing anything like a shoe: his feet just dulled the edges of my tape measure,” the unicorn said, blowing off a few bits of dust from where they had made contact with said feet.
“Radda,” he replied. Okay, that was to be expected; he was a rock creature, after all, so of course his skin would be coarse and rather hard. That, and he didn’t like shoes all that much anyway. Wait a minute, if ponies had hooves, why would they need shoes anyway? That’s be like trying to put socks on a flamingo or a hat on a rabbit; utterly ridiculous, not to mention useless.
“I think a bowler hat would be good for covering up the top of his head,” Rarity continued, her magic starting to summon cloth and cut it into pieces. “Maybe a pop-up collar, like a tuxedo of some kind. Surely it would be good for him to dress in black, if only to hide his out-of shape figure. Black is slimming, after all.”
“Radda,” Schnitzel sighed, resigned to the fact that one, this mare would never get his name, and two, he was going to be here a while. As she started cutting the fabric and holding it up to his body, Schnitzel let his mind wander, so much so that he didn’t realize there was a purple hoof waving in front of his face.
“Schnitzel! Are you in there?” Twilight asked, pumping her hoof furiously past the creature’s face. After managing to get all of the clothes properly cut and assembled, Rarity had gone off to sew them up, and Schnitzel... well, he seemed to have fallen into a trance of some sort. So, to try and get his attention in a more practical way, she poked him in his cold belly, which was rather hard, even though it was rather fat.
“Radda?” Schnitzel said in surprise, standing up rather quickly and narrowly missing a lamp with his face. He looked down at Twilight, who had taken a few steps back from his sudden revival. “Radda, radda radda radda?”
“Oh, Rarity’s almost done putting the finishing touches on your outfit,” the purple unicorn said. “We should be leaving for Canterlot shortly after that, though the means of transport are open to you. Do you want to take a carriage, or a hot air balloon? We never really use the balloon, so it might have some insects living in it.” Twilight failed to mention it had taken three exterminators and the lives of fifteen bug bombs to clean out the balloon’s basket for last year’s Running of the Leaves. If only they had also checked the balloon, then that poor family of spiders wouldn’t have been incinerated by the balloon’s hot air. The only one to escape that fateful day, a young spider named Steve, had sworn revenge on all pony kind after the race finished.
Until he was promptly eaten by a bird the next day, and thus the circle of life continued.
Well Schnitzel didn’t like to fly, and since he didn’t need to know any tragic backstory on spiders, balloons and revenge, he said simply “radda”.
“Um... okay, does that mean carriage?” Twilight guessed.
“Radda radda,” Schnitzel replied, nodding his head for added effect.
“Okay, carriage it is then,” the purple unicorn said, packing away her notes. She kept pretty much every note she had ever taken, all the way back to her first days at school. Sadly, this habit of keeping paper for just this and not recycling it had cost much of the north to fall prey to deforestation; all for her paper-hungry hobbies.
“Oh Mr. Schindler, I’ve finished your clothes!” Rarity called out, magically dragging behind her a big, neatly-pressed pile of fabric. “If you could be so kind as to put these on in one of the dressing rooms, I’d be more than happy to help Twilight arrange your transportation.”
“Radda,” the rock creature said, taking the surprisingly soft pile of clothes from the aura of magic that surrounded them. Walking away from the two unicorns, he slipped into one of the clearly-marked changing rooms. A bit cramped, but he’d be able to change no problem, right?
The sudden crunching noise of one of his outstretched legs going through the wooden wall said otherwise. Hastily propping a chair against it in the vain hope Rarity wouldn’t notice until he was long gone, Schnitzel changed and came out just as he could hear the carriage rolling up into the front yard.
“Well, I must say, he does look rather dapper,” Rarity said to Twilight as they opened the door for the rock creature. The carriage whined and pleaded and creaked under his weight, but the wheels held, if just barely. “He could lose some weight, though,” Rarity added in a loud whisper, to which Schnitzel just frowned.
“Thanks again Rarity; we’ll let you know how everything went,” Twilight said as she too clambered into the carriage. “Well, are you ready Schnitzel?”
“Radda radda,” he replied with a shrug of sorts. Sure, why not? Maybe Canterlot would be a nice place. Off in the distance behind them, a voice cried out from the boutique: "my beautiful wall!"
Oh, how wrong he was: Canterlot was like Marzipan on steroids and some pixie dust. Rolling into Canterlot was more stressful than trying to drive a car filled with Blast Raz Fruit while careening down the side of a volcano with some fat, sweaty mammoth sitting next to you whose mother needed money for clown college. The traffic jams were terrifying, the ponies were rude and snobbish, and even some of the police ponies looked like they wanted nothing better to do that go eat donuts and beat on hippies with some batons. Strange thing was, there were no hippies in Canterlot, so all they could do was go eat donuts.
Still, when a carriage rolls up outside of the palace amidst a blast of trumpet, ponies stopped and stared, with some even approaching to get a good look.
Out of the carriage he stepped, his clothes fitting him like a glove. The giant wore a pair of dark sunglasses, and his jaw was set as though he knew he was important. Every stride seemed to be made with purpose and in slow motion, set to the beat of some music by a Mr. Michael Colton and the Lonely Isle pony group. What was it about again? A pirate and a club and drugs and dropping something? The author loved the song, but didn’t want to be sued for copyright infringement, so he made up some ponified words and tacked them into the story.
All in all, Schnitzel had to admit he looked good in this suit and hat: that Rarity had really outdone herself. As he approached the opening doors, he looked over at a group of mares watching in rapt fascination. Glimpsing over the tops of his shades with a smoldering look, he gave them a wink and watched in amusement as they fainted away.
Looking ahead, he walked through the doors, giving one last glance to Twilight, who was waving from the carriage, and as the doors shut on this apparent high-roller, Schnitzel found himself in a whole new world.
“So, Mr. Schnitzel, we meet at last,” a voice said, and the sharp-dressed rock creature turned to find himself faced with two winged unicorns, one white and one deepest blue.
Quick, he had to think of something smooth to say.
