> Predicaments in Ponyville > by The Princess Rarity > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > “What do you mean my grandmother is dead?!” > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Predicaments in Ponyville by The Princess Rarity EVENT ONE: Ditching Work A carriage siren went off, ponies started to scream and there was a loud crash in the crossroads of Uptown and Downtown. It was Manehattan, as usual. No matter what time of day, this chaos went on; and yet somehow, ponies still chose to live in the rush of the city. The sun just barely started peeking out from beyond the horizon, and the city lights were fading out because of the daylight. Another morning in Manehattan, the strange harmony would never cease to exist. Coco let out a groan, and placed a pillow over her face as the alarm clock across the room started beeping. How could it be seven ‘o clock in the morning already? Wasn’t it only a few minutes ago, she had laid down to rest for the evening? ...although, surprisingly, the alarm went off within seconds. Not that Coco was complaining, but she did find it a bit strange. Normally, it would blare for a while until she or her roommate would throw the thing against the wall in frustration. Nevertheless, she snuggled back under her comforter and closed her eyes. Ten more minutes, and then she would get out of bed and get ready for work. She let out a soft sigh to herself. Work. It wasn’t that she hated it, but it was still tedious. Working nine to five was far from fun-- --a sudden voice interrupted her thoughts. It wasn’t loud, or intrusive, like usual, though. Usually, Coco would be awoken with screams and protests, with a few vulgarities thrown in. But the familiar voice was soft… sort of sweet. She couldn’t make out what the voice was saying, but it did leave her perplexed. “Yes, yes, it’s very sad, I know.” Coco peeked out from the covers, and looked into the kitchen to see her roommate talking on the phone. “Grace?” she asked. “What are you doing?” The better question was why Grace was so cleaned up and refreshed at this hour. Her mane was brushed, she had one of her ties on -- a red one this time around, and her glasses were on straight. Typically, at seven in the morning, Grace would be hating the world and chowing down on sugary cereal. Coco couldn’t help but also wonder why Grace was on the phone: wasn’t it a bit early to be calling ponies? “We’re putting together the funeral arrangements right now,” Grace said. Her tone of voice wasn’t raspy and playful, like normal; it was soft, kind, almost heartwarming. “Yes sir, we’ll be back on Monday. Well… I will be, anyway. I’m not too sure about poor Coco. You see, she was very close with her grandmother and--” Coco shut down on listening from there on out. Funeral? Grandmother? She bolted out of bed at a speed that was nearly impossible for an earth pony, and she stumbled into the kitchen, snatching the phone out of her roommate’s hooves. “What do you mean my grandmother is dead?!” she hissed. “Gimme back the phone, marshmallow,” Grace growled. “You’ll blow it.” “What do you mean?” Coco harshly whispered. “Why didn’t you tell me?” “Just play along!” Grace shot back, as she fought for the phone. “You’re gonna thank me later, honest!” It took a minute, but soon, Coco let out a gasp of realization and held onto the phone, not allowing her friend to get it back. “Grace Janine Manewitz, if this is another one of your stupid stunts,” she mumbled, playing tug of war with the telephone. “It’s too early for this!” Despite her attempts to play keepaway, it failed and Coco fell flat on her rump as Grace yanked the telephone back. “I’m sorry about that, sir, my apartment doesn’t get good phone service,” she said, immediately switching back to the much lighter tone of voice. “Now--” She stammered and her expression fell. “You want to talk to Coco? Well, sir, she’s upset and--” The sound of their boss yelling on the other line was heard very clearly and for a moment, Grace looked genuinely scared. “Whatever you say, sir!” She shoved the telephone back into Coco’s hooves, and mouthed the words, “Play along!” Coco groaned as she picked up the phone. “Hello?” she muttered. “Pommel? Your roommate’s tellin’ me that your grandma bit the dust,” Their boss took a pause, no doubt to smoke a cigar. “This true?” Without even thinking, Coco instantly replied, “Apparently so.” She noticed Grace acting out crying, and rolled her eyes. Coco wasn’t going to do something so stupid; but she did contemplate many ways she could hurt her roommate without causing too much damage to the apartment… “You gotta be back to work on Monday, ya hear?” the bossman snapped. “Y-yessir,” Coco stuttered. Even over the phone, her boss’s voice was scarily demanding… “Enjoy a three-day weekend then,” he grumbled, and the line abruptly went dead. “Well, my grandmother is dead, so I don’t know how I’m going to do that,” Coco said sarcastically as she glared at Grace. She raised an eyebrow, got up and put the phone back into the receiver. “So, would you care to explain what’s going on?” Grace laughed nervously and pulled her tie. “Good news; we don’t have work today! We can enjoy our Friday! Even better news, to my knowledge, your ‘ole grandma is still alive!” she said. Coco turned deadpan. “You used the oldest get out of work excuse on our boss?” she muttered. Grace hesitated, then shrugged nonchalantly. “He believed it!” she defended. Coco really, really wanted to smack her friend upside the head, but she was too tired. Instead, she facehoofed and shook her head. “You are unbelievable,” she grumbled. “Hey, I got us a day off!” Grace argued. “When was the last time we had one of those?” “It’s an unfair day off!” Coco shot back. “It’s a lie!” “And you make it sound like it’s the first time I’ve done something like this,” Grace mused. A stammer escaped Coco, but she decided not to keep at it; she would never win. Besides, Grace was wholeheartedly correct; she pulled stunts like this at least once a week, and it had been a month since her last crazy idea. Coco should have known that something would happen soon. While her intentions were good, the way Grace went about it wasn’t exactly right… “I need some coffee,” Coco muttered to herself. She turned around, where the coffee machine was, and flicked on the switch. She took a mug off of one of the hooks, and rubbed her eyes tiredly. A yawn escaped her, and she felt like banging her head against the wall when the television started blaring. “I wonder what it liked or what was missing.” “Well, I know what's missing. Talent. I'm getting out of here, you hacks! Talentless hacks!” “Yikes.” “Could you please turn that down?” Coco muttered. “Nah,” Grace said, with a smirk. She sat at the kitchen table, and kept her focus on the cartoon. Well, at least that was back to normal… Coco poured herself a cup of coffee, and took a sip of it. Thankfully, the caffeine made her feel a bit better. She took a seat on the other side of the table, and she looked at her friend. “So, do you have any plans for our day off?” she joked. “Actually,” Grace said. She reached down, grabbed her purse off the floor, and held out a brochure. “I do!” “The Ponyville Tribal and Heritage Festival?” Coco read. “Ponyville’s last summer festival?” She pursed her lips, and thought for a moment. She took another sip of coffee. “I haven’t been there in years. What made you think of this?” “I’m bored, I wanted a day off, do I need a reason?” Grace replied. “So hurry up and get ready, we got a train to catch in thirty minutes!” ...and so, in shock, Coco promptly spit her coffee back into the cup. “It’s too early for this,” she repeated as she slammed her face down onto the table. > “Did we really need first class for a two-hour train ride?” > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- EVENT TWO: Boarding the Train After being practically dragged out of the flat, Coco found herself waiting on a train platform, eating a packet of generic brand uncooked toaster pastries for breakfast. Grace was talking about nonsense, and the station was relatively calm for seven o’clock on a work day. Coco snapped out of her trance when she heard her friend say something surprising. “Wait, what?” she asked. “I know, right?” Grace said, with a scoff. “I can’t believe we got first-class tickets. I owe Monty one big time this around.” She took one of the toaster pastries out of the aluminium foil without asking and bit into it. “You think I should, like, take him out for dinner or something as a thank you? I mean, I did buy him coffee yesterday, so there’s that.” “How in the world did Baymont get you train tickets? Most importantly, why?” Coco inquired. Grace shrugged. “We were chatting it up after lunch break on Wednesday, and I told him about how I needed a vacation. Apparently, his uncle’s cousin’s half-sister works for the train company so he hooked me up with the best seats,” she explained. Coco raised an eyebrow. “Uh-huh,” she said slowly. “But think of it this way,” She took the last bite of her toaster pastry. “Did we really need first class for a two-hour train ride?” Grace bestowed her famous smirk. “Hey, never look a gift horse in the mouth,” she retorted. Coco rolled her eyes. “More like,” She cleared her throat and tried to mimic her friend’s raspy, dry tone of voice. “If it’s free, I’ll take it!” “I do not sound like that!” Grace argued, as she struggled not to laugh at how ridiculous her friend had sounded. “That sounds like somepony who smokes three packs a day or somethin’!” She shook her head playfully. “But, look! You’re already having fun! I toldja, ditching work was the best thing we’ve done in a while.” “I hate admitting when you’re right,” Coco teased, with a sweet giggle. She reverted back to her regular voice, and patted down her mane as the wind blew it. “So, the Tribal festival?” “Like I said, I was bored,” Grace said. “We got the brochure in the mail and I thought why not. I used to go there every year when I was a kid. It was pretty awesome seeing all of the dragons and griffons and stuff. I even met a batpony from Neigh Jersey once. He was pretty cute.” She pursed her lips and thought for a moment. “You know, not to brag or anythin’, but I ended up making out with him and his sister in the photo booth.” Coco’s eyes went wide. “Too much information,” she muttered. Grace chuckled softly. “What can I say?” she declared as she pushed her glasses further up her muzzle. “I was crazy when I was a teenager.” Coco huffed. “You’re still crazy,” she pointed out. “Guilty as charged,” Grace admitted. The sound of the train arriving was on the horizon, and ponies began to file out onto the platform, making things much more crowded. All sorts of characters and jokesters appeared, all rushing around, reading their tickets. However, Coco was surprised when Grace immediately pulled them to the front of the platform, and pulled two slips of paper out from her saddlebags. “Oh, I’ve got a golden ticket~” she sang softly to herself, with a smirk. “All aboard!” the conductor yelled. “Two first-class seats, good sir,” Grace declared as she held out the tickets. The conductor raised an eyebrow, and took the papers. He looked at them, and adjusted his glasses, squinting at the hoofwriting. “Are you Golden Manuscript?” he said skeptically. Grace nodded. “Call me Goldie,” she replied. “And this is my friend, Chapeau Plume. She’s Prench.” Coco was about to open her mouth to say something, when the conductor suddenly spoke up. “Can I see some ID?” he inquired. “Uh,” Grace stammered. “We left it at home.” Aside from what she said only moments ago, this was actually the truth. “But we can still get on the train, right? And have our first-class seats?” She batted her eyes, and gave a small smile. “Please?” The conductor scoffed. “You’re assigned to seats 25B and 26A. Down the hall,” he said. Before Coco could protest, Grace dragged her friend into the train car and found their seats. “First class gets free food?” she mused, as she noticed a package of cookies on each of their chairs. She broke out into a grin. “Nice!” She winced when Coco hit her on the foreleg. “Gee, marshmellow, when did you learn how to punch like that? I thought you were all fluff.” “You didn’t tell me we had fake names!” Coco hissed. “Well, yeah,” Grace said nonchalantly. “Monty’s uncle’s cousin’s half-sister is the CEO of this company. You think she would let two average mares like us get first-class? These seats cost about five hundred bits a piece.” Coco’s expression went deadpan. “And what was wrong with coach?” she muttered. Suddenly, the sound of foals crying and ponies arguing was heard in the next car over. Grace smiled victoriously, and pointed in the direction of the sound. “That’s what’s wrong with it,” she said. “Still,” Coco grumbled. “This feels unfair.” “Stick with me, kid,” Grace retorted. “And you’re going places. That place will probably be in the back of a police carriage or in an alleyway hiding from a crazy pony, but it’s a place.” She hesitated, and shook her head. “Don’t ask how I’ve been in both of those situations on the same day.” Coco let out a sigh -- not bothering to pester her friend for teasing her about their five year age difference. Instead, she got comfortable in her seat as the train began moving. “So, how long do you suppose it will take to get from here to Ponyville?” she inquired. Grace shrugged. “Dunno, two or three hours? The festival starts at noon, so we got a while anyway,” she replied. She looked up, and noticed buttons, levers and strings, all to call attendants for requests of who knows what. Instantly, her expression lit up with her typical mischievous grin. Grace sat up, and pressed a random button with one hoof and pulled a lever with the other, softly laughing to herself. “What am I going to do with you?” Coco murmured, trying not to smirk.