For days at a time, Thunder Clap would spend hours in his room trying to just replicate the design of Spangle’s candy machine. He even ordered one and took it apart piece by piece. The mechanism was simple manage of levers pushing the piece of candy from a holding chamber and into a holding chamber after it was pushed up. And when the lever was pushed down it cycled out the piece it had in the chamber and pulled one from the reserve while launching the piece it had ready into the air and then repeat. Spangle’s rifle wasn’t making things any easier; every way he could think to do it, he couldn’t find a good way to mount the design without cutting into the rifle.

Eventually, Thunder Clap was spending most of his time in the shop. Late at night he would forge all new parts. Piece after piece, a slimmer barrel took shape. The metal lathe roared constantly as he tried to find the right size for the musket ball. Once the barrel was done, Thunder Clap forged a housing for the barrel and the lever mechanism. He screwed in the barrel with his right hoof until it wouldn’t budge. After closing off the housing, Thunder Clap three rounds into the rifle. The idea was that when the package was lifted into the firing chamber, a needle would pierce the package of gunpowder, spill the powder into the barrel and a blasting cap would ignite the powder.

The Thunder Clapper Repeating Rifle MK. I was ready to be tested. It could hold three shots and be reloaded by a chamber in the back of the rifle. The stock was short and fit better to the under arm of a pony and the lever was shaped so that a pony could cycle the rounds with just one hoof and still not take their eyes off target. The only downside was that the hammer had to be pulled back manually and the blasting cap, comprised of shock sensitive compounds, had to be replaced after each shot.

Thunder Clap held his breath. With Spangle watching behind him, he cocked the weapon and watched the package enter the chamber. He was hard to force shut but some resizing could fix that issue no problem. Thunder pulled the hammer back, placed a blasting cap on the nipple and shouldered the firearm. There were no sites on the gun, seeing as it was only a month since he had thought of the idea, the prototype needed a basic test before accuracy could be fine tuned.

With a quick pull of the trigger, the hammer slammed the blasting cap and a quiet pop came from the rifle, and nothing else. Thunder Sucked his teeth and took the rifle from his shoulder, just as he was about to take the whole thing apart when a thunderous bang shot from the muzzle of the rifle and a cloud of smoke billowed from the end of the barrel. The kick knocked the MK. I out of his hoofs and dug the rounded stock into the ground. Thunder Clap fell back on to his back in surprise. With all of the air shucked out of his chest and his mint green mane singed.

Spangle was at his apprentice’ side within an instant. “Thunder!” he shouted at the young stallion.

Thunder Clap shook his head and blinked a bit before seeing Spangle next to him.

“What?” he shouted back.

“Are you okay!?”

“I can’t hear you!”

“Are you okay?” Spangle said articulating every word so Thunder Clap could have some chance of understanding him.

“Yeah, I’m good.” Thunder said as the world turned off the mute button. “I’m good.”

“What happened?”

“I don’t know, I’ll have to open er’ up and find out.”

Thunder Clap took the rifle back into Spangle’s shop and carefully took it apart. Inside of the firing chamber, the charred wax paper stuck to the inside of the barrel and took about an hour to scrape it out fully. Thunder Clap nearly hit himself with his right hoof at his stupidity. Even if the wax paper hadn’t melted to the inside of the firing chamber, there was no way for the wax paper to be ejected from the weapon so the next one could be cycled in. He removed the other two and put them off to the side as Spangle walked in to the shop.

“You alright?” Spangle asked.

“Yeah, but the rifle didn’t work. There’s no way the wax paper can be used as a carrier for the round and be ejected.”

“Do you know what caused the misfire?”

“The pin poked the hole and spilled the powder like I’d hoped, but when the spark lit the powder; it burnt slow through the packing and then fired too late. Other than that, the lever system works great.”

“So, you ready to give up?”

“Not even close. Just because one prototype fails, that doesn’t mean that the idea doesn’t work. I just need to make something to hold the powder and the bullet that won’t melt when the gunpowder goes off.”

“That’s what I wanna here. I’ll leave you to brainstorm.” Spangle said moving upstairs to his office space.

Thunder Clap remained downstairs all day, cutting, hammering and welding six different metals into cylinders. At one end, a blasting cap was fitted to a small hole and held in place with some super glue. Once they were all finished, Thunder Clap loaded them with gunpowder, packed it down as far as it would go and put the first one in a vice. In his left hoof, a hammer ready to strike the blasting cap on the iron cylinder.

Just before Thunder Clap could hit the blasting cap, Spangle called from the stairs. “What are you doing?”

“Sorry, I thought you were working.” Thunder Clap replied.

“It’s three in the morning.”

“It is?” Thunder looked out of the window of the shop and saw the evening sky through the thinning threes. “It is.”

“Go home. Your dad probably worried sick about you.”

“I just have one test to do and then I’ll go home.”

“That test is going to be loud isn’t it?”

“Yeah it is. You might want to get your earplugs.”

The ebony Pegasus went past his light gray friend and pulled his earplugs form a small box after sifting through everything else. After the ear protection was secure, he stood behind Thunder Clap and waited for the test to begin. Thunder held the hammer back a moment before slamming it into the blasting cap. A small flash came out the end of the cylinder and a loud bang. Thunder didn’t budge, but Spangle, even with his ear protection, jumped. Thunder tossed the hammer and quickly took the cylinder from the vice in his right hoof. The thin iron cylinder was red hot and substantially wider.

“Well then. One design down and five more to go.”

“Five?”

“Five.”

Author's Notes:

Nexus: Do you have to punish poor Spangle like that?
Me: Who's the writer here and who's a creation of who's head?
Nexus: You know you can't exist without me so killing me in any way would kill you as well.
Me: If you don't stop doing this I'm going to write in you making out with Firebrand.
Nexus: You're bluffing...
Me: *holds up pencil and paper* Am I?
Nexus: How many jokes are you going to steal from that guy?
Me: *pencil come dangerously close to touching paper*
Nexus: Okay! I'm sorry. Can we just move on to the next chapter please?
Me: Gladly.