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The Call of the Derpy

by Pacce of the many Mustaches

Chapter 1: The Call of the Derpy


It was a sunny afternoon out in the apple orchard when Applebloom found herself tending a unhealthy looking sapling. She was busying herself looking over the sickly plant when the wind shifted some leaves in a nearby tree and Applebloom was shocked to find a pony's shadow looming over her. She turned around quickly and found herself staring into the smiling face of Derpy, the local mailmare.
"Hello," the grey Pegasus said with a fast and exaggerated wave.
"Um, hi there... Derpy," Applebloom always felt weird calling her that. No one in all of Ponyville knew if Derpy was actually her name or just an unfortunate nickname she had grown accustomed to. It also didn't make Applebloom any more comfortable how she had the tendency to stand there staring at you waiting for you to speak, as she was doing right now. "So, do you have some mail for me?"
"No." Derpy said simply.
Several more uncomfortable seconds passed as Applebloom hoped she would take up the reigns in the conversation. As near as she could figure, Derpy wasn't dumb, she just had an odd way of going about everything and one had to be direct with her. "So what does bring you out here?"
A light shone behind Derpy's eyes, this was the correct question. "I came here to help you, of course!"
"Help me with what," Applebloom asked, entirely lost.
"With your butt, of course," Derpy said matter of factly and then paused losing all expression on her face. "Wait, no. That came out wrong." As Derpy began to walk in slow circle her eyes also wandered in various directions, it was something she was known for and something Applebloom tried to not stare at. She did not succeed. "What I meant to say is I that heard you'd been looking for help about your butt symbol."
"You mean, my cutie mark? That was weeks ago and I'm pretty much over it..." Applebloom tried to protest but suddenly found that Derpy had thrown a hoof around her, pulling her in.
"I remember when I got my cutie mark! And what a day it was! Most important day in a pony's life, you know. It's the day you realize what you were truly meant for. Me and my friend, Ditzy Doo, had both been very late in getting ours. Boy was she ever surprised to find out her special talent," Derpy paused to laugh, but then looked seriously at Applebloom. "But perhaps that's a story better left until you're older. Anyway, she had decided we should hit the town to celebrate!"
Applebloom was about to ask just how late they were in getting their cutie marks when Derpy let go of her and began her famous pacing. "Then again, that's how she wants to celebrate everything. I wonder if maybe she's actually got a serious problem and she goes to clubs to feed her addiction and I m enabling her. But then again all she ever does is dance and nurse a single drink while I'm the one always at the bar for the entire night. Is it possible that I'm projecting onto her?" Derpy suddenly looked very sad, as though she were about to cry, as she looked into Applebloom eyes. "Am I an alcoholic?"
Applebloom was at a loss for a solid minute before saying, "Your cutie mark."
Derpy blinked and then looked back at her flank, "What about it?"
"You were telling me the story of how you got cutie mark."
"Oh yeah!" Shouted Derpy, smiling again.
"So what does it mean? What lead to your discovery of your one true calling?"
"I don't know actually. I had too much to drink that night and when I woke up, there it was," Derpy then turned around so that her backside was facing Applebloom, she then began to shake it slightly. "Do you have any idea what it could mean? It really bothers me not knowing!"
Applebloom stared wide eyed and began to back away. "Oh hey, I think I hear Applejack calling me!"
"I don't hear anything," Derpy said as she put a hoof to her ear.
"That is, I just remembered I was supposed to meet her. Gotta go!" And then she started running for the barn. She heard Derpy call out her goodbye, but now Applebloom's mind was solely on her own flank. Her previous and anxieties had all been forgotten and replaced with a single thought. Whatever her cutie mark would be, she prayed it wouldn't be a series of bubbles.

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