This is my favorite chapter title so far. It's a quote (though I did ponify for censoring purposes) from In Bruges, if you haven't seen the movie, at least watch the scene with this quote in it for a good laugh, cause there is no laughing in this chapter.

Chapter Three – It's An Inanimate Bucking Object

The three undamaged wheels of her scooter dragged along in the dirt, making small trails in the ground behind her. The bent wheel was kept above ground, spared the humiliating job of creating a trench simply out of fear that it might break further. This was probably the first time in years Scootaloo had never rode home on her scooter. It was kind of depressing.

It also wasn't going to depress her. Scootaloo was sure the blue scooter could be fixed. It had to be. That scooter had been her best friend before meeting Sweetie Belle and Applebloom. She learned how to ride it before she could walk. In an attempt to remember life before her scooter, Scootaloo failed to come up with anything.

But it would be fixed. It was only a bent wheel, right? No way that could put her best friend out of commission. No way at all.

The orange filly abruptly stopped her trudging in front of a modest house at the end of the road. Looking back she saw the seemingly endless, three-pronged trail she had inadvertently dug stretching all the way to the edge of the street. Nope, that wasn't going to depress her.

Turning back to the house, her house to be accurate, she knocked on the door. Nothing. Her dad was absent again. Scootaloo didn't keep a spare key to the house on her, but she knew where her father kept the spare.

Rolling the welcome mat over, Scootaloo scooped up the key and inserted in the lock. The familiar click of the tumblers, and she was in. The magenta-haired filly no longer dragged her scooter with her, she propped it up against the coat rack that her father insisted on having, despite never having owned a coat. Instinctively taking off her helmet, Scootaloo realized that she hadn't need to wear it for the trip home. She set it by her scooter nonetheless, and moved deeper into the living room. There she found a note that had been hastily scribbled by her father.

Scootaloo –

Called into a business trip at the last minute. Sorry to do this to you kiddo, but it was urgent. Food's in the pantry and Derpy will stop by to check on you in the morning. Be back in two days.

-Dad

What else had Scootaloo expected? It was another good ole disappearing act by her father. No warning whatsoever and poof… he was out of her life for a few days. Then he would pop back in to say hi, and leave just as fast. It hadn't been so bad when Scootaloo's mom was alive. They used to stay up late and talk and make smores. It was like a slumber party that never ended. Until, well… it ended forever.

But Scootaloo refused to be depressed.

She walked into the kitchen, and selected an apple for her dinner. Chomping into the first bite, she kicked around what to do for the rest of the night. She had homework from school, but she felt like procrastinating it. It was math. She hated math.

May this day would depress her after all.

Biting into her apple, Scootaloo heard a loud clang. Perplexed, she looked at the apple and wondered for a moment if she had somehow caused that noise. Before she even had time to dismiss the thought, another loud clang occurred. This time Scootaloo could tell it was coming outside.

Glancing out the window, Scootaloo saw something she never expected to see outside of her kitchen window. Obsidian Glass was standing out in the street, flinging pebbles at a metal garbage can.

Clang.

Another stone ricocheted off the trash can. Scootaloo stared at Glass quizzically. There were plenty of questions racing in her mind right now. Instead of thinking about them, Scootaloo decided to take action.

The orange filly bounded out her front door and around the corner to Glass. His back was turned, so he didn't see her come out. He chucked another pebble at the trash can.

Clang.

He raised his hoof to throw another one. Scootaloo spoke first.

"Hey." She said. His hoof halted in midair. The white colt turned around and looked at Scootaloo with his piercing green eyes.

"Hi." Glass said. "Do I know you?"

"We're in the same class. I remember cause you burned Diamond Tiara at recess today."

"Oh, so that's her name." Glass said. "Well she earned it. Nice to meet you by the way." He dropped the tiny stone he had intended to throw and extended his hoof to her. She shook it.

"I'm Scootaloo." She said. There was silence. Glass grabbed another hoof-full of stones and when back to assaulting the trash can. After two dents had been made Scootaloo's curiosity peaked. "What are you doing?"

"Throwing rocks at garbage cans." He said nonchalantly. Scootaloo bit her lip. She hated sarcasm sometimes.

"I know, but… why?" She asked.

"Cause my dad is an angry drunk." Glass responded with an equal amount of indifference. Scootaloo blinked in shock.

"W-what?"

"My dad…" Clang "… is an…" Clang "…angry…" Clang "…drunk." He repeated striking the trash can harder each time. Scootaloo walked up next to Glass. She honestly didn't know what to say.

"Umm… sorry." She finally said.

"Don't apologize. It's not your fault." He said, hurling another stone. "My mom always sends me to my room when he gets drunk. I usually just sneak out and do whatever." Clang. "This time I felt like throwing rocks at a garbage can." He had one stone left. Looking over at Scootaloo he said, "I take it you don't like your dad too much either."

"Well, not really. How did you know?" She asked.

"Says it all over your face." He tossed her the last rock. She caught it easily. "See ya in school." Scootaloo watched him walk away for a moment as he rounded the corner by her house. Turning back to the trash can, Scootaloo decided to give it a go. She threw the rock as hard as she possibly could, yet it only bounced off the trash can with a dull pang. Inspecting the steel can, she saw that her throw hadn't even made a dent. Obsidian Glass on the other hoof seemed to have made a dent in every throw. Some even tore holes in the trash can.

Scootaloo was impressed to say the least. Then, she suddenly remembered she was supposed to ask Glass to join the Crusaders. Running to catch up to him, the orange filly rounded the same corner he had. Even though it had only been a few seconds since the dark-haired colt left, Scootaloo saw no pony there. Obsidian Glass had vanished.