Sweet Apple Acres was draped in the glorious evening sunset, and it was having a strange effect on John Macintosh Apple. The massive, red stallion occasionally took quick breaks from the plow to admire the scene of his family farm, and how it looked so much larger and different than the barely five acre little farm that his grandparents had started back in the Frontier Days. Despite the popular belief that all Apples were obsessed with their properties, Mac personally wasn’t too keen on being tied to a simple plot of land until he was worm chow...especially more now than ever. The farm had some serious financial problems. Regardless, he still took some pride in how well he and his family had expanded it with more acreage of land for crops and several new buildings...unfortunately, one barn had been destroyed by Pinkie Pie while the other barn's roof had been damaged by the Crusaders. But they were Apples. They would endure. The Apples had always been hard-working ponies who stressed the importance of family, loyalty, and pride. Big Mac particularly found that last quality to hold a great, personal significance, though he didn’t feel the former two qualities were of a lesser importance.

The big stallion unhooked himself from his plow and tossed his sweat-soaked yolk onto the ground, taking care to not step on any of the soil work he’d spent all day meticulously cultivating. He cracked his neck and yawned mightily…it had been a grueling day. The soil had been as hard as granite after that last drought…not easy to break up. He needed a quick break. Keeping an eye out for either of his sisters, he reached into his leather saddlebag and lit up a Mareboro cigarette with his father’s butane lighter, breathing the rich smoke in deeply while taking in the waning sunset. He smoked a lot nowadays… He smoked even more now than back in the service. And only smoked filter-less. Filtered just didn’t cut it for him. Probably stress or something.

He always had to be careful to hide his habit from his sisters, as Applejack would lay into him for setting a bad example for Apple Bloom. AJ knew about some of his “bad” habits, but she generally left him alone if he kept them hidden from Apple Bloom and herself. It was somewhat of a "out of sight, out of mind" policy. But wasn't it ridiculous to be cowed into submission by his 110 lbs. little sister? So what, if she caught him? (I think that now...but later...) He had just worked his goddamned flank off from sunup to sundown. If he was going to work from sunup to sundown without so much as a single complaint, the least AJ could do was lay off with the speeches:

“Dontcha’ know it’s bad for ya'?! Ain’tcha never hearda' emphysema, Mac? I don’t wanna’ have to work this entire goddang farm all by my lonesome, while yer ass sits up in a hospital bed with an oxygen tank!! What if yer baby sister sees yer big ass smokin’, huh? You know she idolizes ya' and copies whatever ya' do!” He knew most of her aversion to the habit was personal. Lung cancer had taken their father.

And as though his thoughts had telepathically alerted her, AJ topped the hill and caught him redhanded. (Fuck) The tan, freckled filly was glaring at him with an exhausted expression…she was obviously tired from the long work day like himself. Maybe she’s too tired to go off on a fucking tangent about the dangers of smo-

“Goddangit, Big Mac! (Ugh…no such luck…here we go…) I turn my back for a damned minute, an' here you are! I’ll betcha' were sneakin’ out here all day, thinkin’ no pony’d catch ya'!” (God…Celestia…just shut her up. Not now.)

“I ain’t in the mood for this, AJ. I don’t wanna’ hear it right now.” Big Mac was a bit surprised by his own response. Usually he let his sister nag him until she was all nagged out. Hopefully, he wasn’t making an annoying situation any worse by-

“You ain’t in the mood?! Yer off pollutin’ yer lungs and probably ditchin’ out on chores! Where in the sam hell d’you get off tellin’ me you don’t wanna’ “hear it?” Mac did something he thought he would never do. Through clenched teeth, he menacingly hissed out a reply to his sister. His face was inches from her own.

“I’m tired. It’s been a long day. I’m a grown pony. I'll do whatever the fuck I want.” His sister hung her mouth open in shock. She was right to be a bit surprised. Even Mac himself was surprised.

He wasn’t sure what was making him so averse to hearing another one of AJ’s famous “sermons.” It couldn’t be the exhaustion, seeing as to how the two of them were always burnt out after a day like this. And it wasn’t as though her “mothering” Apple Bloom and himself was anything new. After their mother had passed away, AJ had been trying to fill her role for years now. She was always (and often hypocritically) berating them for not being careful. Regardless, this was sure to not end pleasantly.

“What’s gotten into you, John?! Talkin’ to yer sister like that!” He couldn't answer her. He didn't really know.

Although it probably wasn’t found to be that “reprehensible” to most ponies, the Apple stallions were always taught to respect mares; no matter how disrespectful or unreasonable they were. This included the usage of profanity. Big Mac had never said so much as a single “damn” in the presence of any filly; let alone his sisters. His father would come back from the grave itself just to throttle him for such a thing. And he’d probably bring his mother along with him to do the same. Why was this different?

“I ain't in the mood fer one of yer lectures. It don’t concern you, personally. You run off to yer little friends’ houses every other day, fuckin' around to let off steam. All I got is the occasional smoke break. Stop preachin’ to me ‘bout every little thing I do that don’t suit yer fancy. Grow the fuck up, and learn to mind yer own business.” Something was wrong. Heavy bruxom. Sweating. Lip curled with contempt. Something familiar. Black. Scratching. Why now?

"Y-you ain't got no right talkin' to me like that!" She started to back away. He had never seen her do this until just now. He couldn't stop. He spat out two words in a shaky voice...he could barely form the syllables...

"Not...now..." AJ eyes were wide with shock and concern. (Why now? Not now.) She was backing away farther now. She was scared. He was scared.

"D-dontcha' 'member how Pa raised ya'? This ain't like you!" She was right. But it didn't matter.

He didn't care right now. Normally he did. But not right now. Not now. Now is different. Didn't matter. Maybe it never fucking mattered. AJ deserved to get a taste of her own medicine now and then…but something wasn’t right. This wasn't right. With seemingly no warning or cause, John Apple's fury had grown to a point to where he couldn't hide it…let alone control it. And it was all just over a little bit of nagging? He was hyperventilating. His blood was boiling. He could barely think. Focus. Try to stop it. His baby sister. Five years old in her little, light brown Stetson. Her little cowgirl hat. Carrying a doll in her mouth. Looked just like the one Princess Twilight had...the one he kept. Trotting next to him. Too little to help with the chores. Sweet and adorable. Wasn't working. Burning. (Fuck....cut it...breaking...)

"Fuck it...go away..." His tone of voice was barely audible. It was an alien voice. One he hadn't used in a long time. (Please leave...get away from me...not now...)

“Y-yer wrong fer talkin’ to your sister like that, Big Mac…w-what's gotten into you alluva' sudden? Actin' all scary an' mean?” His jaw almost dropped in awe of her reaction.

She had sounded…defeated!! And apologetic! And even timid! He scanned over her features again to confirm it all. It was indeed true. His fearless and adamant little sister actually appeared crushed down. A part of him felt a grim satisfaction in the sight. Was it the sadist in him? No. He loved both his baby sisters. It was just her fucking mouth sometimes... She could talk to him like he was just out of diapers all year round, but it was “wrong” for him to point out HER flaws for once?! But this felt wrong. She had a sort of look that was reminiscent of a penitent foal who had just been scolded. It was…kind of unnerving…and entirely alien with any context of AJ’s personality. She looked pitifully at the ground and muttered…

“Gettin' up in my face and cussin’ at me fer bein’ worried ‘bout yer health…If I don’t worry, who will? You don’t seem to care one bit...” (Ah..hell.)

Now he felt guilty. All the trappings of anger had evaporated as quickly as they had manifested. She almost looked ready to cry. He'd never wanted to upset her. In fact, he didn't even think it possible. Didn’t she compete in some sort of “Iron Pony” competition once? And she was a talented rodeo star. She practically exuded “I’m tough” from her very pores. He had heard her bickering with her rainbow-maned Pegasus friend before, exchanging some pretty harsh insults back and forth usually related to their competitive rivalry. But none of their arguments had bothered her like this. Maybe it was just that HE had said those things, and that HE specifically had put her in her place. He hadn’t wanted to hurt her feelings or scare her. He just wanted her to back the fuck off. He was tired.

Before the awkward argument could get any more uncomfortable, Granny Smith had stuck her head out of the kitchen window of the farmhouse. She had been cooking supper for the past three hours…and thank God…he was grateful for the interruption for once. What was she saying?....He could barely hear the old bat…

“Hey, young’uns! Stop workin’! It’s quittin’ time! Come inside and wash yer hooves!! Supper’s ready!!” Hmm..certainly no mystery there.

Regardless, he couldn’t have loved his barmy, old grandmother any more than at that moment. (Granny, yer an angel.) It certainly helped that he could smell the biscuits and gravy with potato dumplings she’d cooked all the way from where he was. He glanced at AJ, watching as she slowly made her way down the hill to the house.

“We’ll talk about this later.” That wasn’t encouraging. She seemed to have gotten her steel back with that one comment. Well, that particular tangent comprised of AJ bitching at him for virtually nothing was future Mac’s problem. He started making his way down the hill, letting the cool wind dry his sweat. (No.) He couldn't let her simmer like that. He was in the wrong. He had to own up to it. She had only been worried about him. And he had cut her head off for little to no reason.

"Jackie...wait up a minute." He had used her childhood pet name. He only used it when he wanted to get her attention. As a little filly, AJ could only pronounce "Jack" correctly. The diminutive form of the word inevitably stuck. But it worked. She turned towards him...she was still a little bit angry...but mostly scared.

"I'm sorry...I didn't mean to say all that an' cuss atcha'...I think it's the stress an' whatnot. I'm fine now, though. I 'ppreciate you worryin' 'bout me, sugarcube." Her eyes softened.

"It's okay, Mackie. I know ya' been worried 'bout the bank loan an' the harvest. I ain't about to let no big shot city-slicker from the bank take the farm away from us. I'll be damned 'fore that happens! We'll get the money together, big fella'. It's gonna' be alright. You can always think up a plan with that freaky, genius brain o' yers. We'll pull through like always, okay?" Mac had never especially liked his own diminutive nickname...but hearing it meant AJ wasn't mad at him anymore. And...she and the rest of his family thought he was a genius after he'd taken that IQ test a while back...he knew better.

"Eeyup." He pulled her in for a hug...but he'd forgotten that he was still drenched in sweat.

"Ewww! Mac! Yer all sweaty! An' ya' smell like a dang buffalo!" She was giggling. Good. Back to normal.

"Yer sweatin', too, sugarcube."

"Yeah, but mare sweat don't stink like guy sweat. Scientific fact."

"Huh. Where'd ya' read that "fact?" In one of Miss Rarity's fashion mags? 'Bout as scientific as callin' a fart "potpourri." AJ had caught another case of the giggles. Even better. She wasn't worried anymore.

"Oh, the hell do you know, ya' dang buffalo? ...but...you sure yer alright? You been real squirrely lately, John. I'm worried 'bout ya'." Wrong again.

"I'm fine, baby doll. You go get supper 'fore it gets cold, alright?" Lying...fucking lying...

"Okay. If you say so...come inside when yer done huffin' on that cancer stick. An' wipe yer hooves off 'fore ya' track dirt in the kitchen." He smiled in acknowledgement.

She trotted down back down the hill towards the farmhouse. All was normal again. Except for him. He wasn't. He inhaled the smoke...holding it in...it calmed him down a little. Normally, when he got this worked up he would calm himself down by holding a certain somepony's doll. He knew most ponies would find it somewhat creepy, but the alternative was much worse. When the anxiety and rage were too strong for even that to work, Mac would go visit his old squadmate who had served alongside him and who later became Ponyville's current constable. The constable was one of the few true friends Mac ever had. (Steel always knew how to calm me down. He done the same stuff as me...had them same problems...)

He glanced up at the sunset again to find it had changed it’s color to a deep, candescent cerise. For some reason, that particular hue seemed familiar...in some sort of personal, cryptic way. (Where do I know that color? Whatever.) This was his favorite time of day; when the sun was going down, and the air was nice and cool. His thoughts turned back to his bossy, little sister. She was always dominating everything and everypony on the farm that didn't ascribe to her plan. She wasn't exactly a "control freak", but she was bound to butt heads with somepony eventually. It was usually endearing, though.

Normally, he didn’t care. He was happy enough to let the stubborn, little filly hold the reigns, seeing as to how she wasn’t usually this domineering. As long as she was allowed to take charge of the daily running of the farm, AJ was happy. She was typically pretty laid back about whatever he did (not that she's ACTUALLY in charge or anything), and she had always been loyal to her family and honest with everypony. She did genuinely love and worry about him, as did he the same for her. She just needed to shut the fuck up once in a while. Overall, she was a good sister. No doubt. She had only been worried about him. For good reason, too. Since he'd gotten back home almost two years ago from the service, he’d had some problems getting back into the swing of farm life and dealing with his family.

He eyed the receding sunset’s last plumes of brilliance. His family had been nothing but loving and supportive of him. AJ and Apple Bloom even had declared him some kind of hero…(what bullshit)..of course, they meant well, but they had no idea. Granny Smith hadn’t moved a single thing in his room and even arranged a massive Apple family reunion to celebrate his return home. He'd never seen so much damn food in his entire life! Say what you will about Apples being stubborn or inbred (That latter insult is unmerited…fer the most part.), but they know how to cook and host a shindig. Even if he had felt unwelcome or foreign to his own family, they’d have never let him go off and seclude himself somewhere in a sullen, alcoholic stupor.

But that run-in with his sister had bothered him. It wasn’t so much that he had scared her or cursed in the presence of a mare. AJ cursed a good bit herself. No. This anger was different. He slowly started to recognize it. It was the same feeling that he had last experienced two years prior to his discharge. This wasn’t a petty, explosive anger. It was an awful feeling. A black, scratching thing inside his skull. An abyssal rage smoldering inside him that he’d had to constantly suppress. Always there. Always scratching…churning his thoughts into lurid obscenities...burning…he had fought it for years now.

And he had felt that same rage just bickering with his little sister over something so initially trivial. What shocked him was…for a brief moment…he had pictured himself smashing his hoof into her pretty face…just to shut her fucking mouth...shards of teeth and bone...broken jaw and nose...bleeding...(fuckfuckfuckfuckno...) To stop the nagging. He was horrified by this idea…that he could even think such a thing…he loved both his sisters dearly and would never...(But I did picture it.) A cold shame washed over him as he opened the screen door to the farmhouse. The antiquated, rusted hinges squealed like a metallic swine.

The minute he crossed the threshold of the old house into the kitchen, he swept his mind clean of threatening emotions that could alarm his family, and he changed his concerned expression to a featureless “poker face.” Taking great care not to track mud from his hooves into the kitchen, he washed his hooves for dinner and dried them on an old washcloth. He pulled up a chair next to his grandmother and took in a nose-full of the warm smells coming from the delectable spread she had made. Hot damn…warm biscuits with mushroom gravy…potato and cheese dumplings…and a platter of country-style tomato, onion, and cheese omelets. Well, maybe living on a farm with your family wasn't all that bad after all…he always had access to the same kind of food that city folk traveled miles out into the boondocks to find. (“Oh, look, honey! What a quaint, little hole-in-the-wall! I bet they have some super-authentic, local food!”) The thought forced him to crack a little grin, knowing full well that most of them came out here for the hard cider and moonshine. (Can't blame ‘em. It’s good stuff.)

In fact, that one little, blue Pegasus who was friends with AJ seemed obsessed with their cider. She once helped AJ paint all of the new fences he had built around the freshly plowed soil last year for a solid week just for a small barrel of the non-alcoholic stuff. This wasn't to say that she was particularly good at painting anything, seeing as to how AJ had to go behind her with a bottle of paint thinner. (I reckon she was one of them ponies in grade school what couldn’t color in the lines.) But an entire week’s work for some glorified apple juice? (God, don’t let Granny ever hear me say that out loud.) She was practically a junkie for the stuff.

Strange filly. She always seemed to hang around the farm, too. Even when AJ wasn’t around. He had caught her sleeping in their apple trees more than once, not that he personally gave much of a fuck so long as she didn’t cause any problems. She usually tried to avoid him for some reason. They'd never had a proper conversation. He hadn’t even learned her name properly, despite her near constancy of presence. (Prismatic mane…scratchy voice…Shit fire! Tip of my tongue.) It was going to drive him crazy now…what was her name?

While laying into his dinner, it occurred to him that it was a bit strange how well so many of the Apple family could cook with no training whatsoever. It was uncanny…AJ could cook up whole meals by the age of six, and he was no slouch either, seeing as he could use the barbecue grill like no other. …and all this culinary talent just seemed inherently part of being an Apple. He wolfed down the remainder of his biscuits and dumplings and started reaching for one of the omelets. He always ate as much protein as he could get his hooves on. No sense losing muscle with a job this physically demanding. He'd read some hippopological books he'd gotten from the library that theorized on how all modern ponies had evolved from the omnivorous Old Horse raiders who had traveled all throughout the world. Those horses could eat anything, in the granted exception of Apple Bloom's cooking.

That reminded him of something: Wasn't Apple Bloom an exception to the rule? The poor little thing could hardly make toast, let alone any of the exquisite dishes laid before them. As he had just laid his hoof on the serving spatula, a squeaky, little voice called out, confirming the worst possible scenario for an Apple family dinner. The little voice repeated itself, summoning even more dread from Big Mac than he thought possible… (Okay. Seriously. Do I got some sorta' telepathic suggestion powers?)

“Hey, Big Mac! Aintcha’ listenin’? I made you a special omelet! Granny wanted to help, but I told her that I can make it on my own.”, the little filly chimed in a sing song voice. As a bonus exacerbation of his horror, he saw that she was wearing AJ’s oversized apron covered in repulsive stains… (Great! All aboard the Dysentery Train! First stop, Uncontrollable Diarrhea Station.)

“Uhhh…sugarcube…are ye sure you don’t want me to run through how to cook up an omelet again?....just so you remember fer uhh…later?”, croaked his grandmother, only belaying the inevitable for Big Mac. He locked eyes with her, silently communicating his gratitude to her and his solemn surrender to his fate.

“No, Granny! I’m almost ten years old now, so that makes me a big pony! I gotta’ learn on my own, if I’m gonna’ figure out how to cook on my own. Go ahead and try it, Big Mac!” Mac knew the futility of explaining the fault in her reasoning. (Thanks for tryin', Granny.)

He looked down at the amorphous, gray mass of uncooked egg whites and cheese that lay limply on his plate and fought to retain control of an already overstuffed stomach. What the hell was this thing? It actually managed to look even less appetizing than Bloom’s last batch of cupcakes, a fact that he didn't think was even possible until this very instant. AJ sympathetically gave him a pat on shoulder. She didn’t seem upset with him at all anymore. (Maybe she's makin' peace with the soon-to-be departed.)

(Well…fuck it. I done lived long enough.) He bravely amassed a gooey chunk of the substance on his fork and swallowed, hoping that the horrid mess wouldn’t touch his tongue. (No such luck.) His reaction was immediate. This…was quite possibly the nastiest damn thing he’d ever eaten. Somehow..the texture of the omelet defied any sense of culinary decency, as it retained a gelatinous outer form, but his sister had managed to somehow burn the vegetables inside...leaving a God-awful charcoal taste. (I don’t think I can do this.)

Second bite. He summoned the will to gulp it all down, bracing himself for the inevitable wave of nausea that would follow. (Come on, man...one more bite...you can keep down veggie omelet MRE's...you can keep this down...) The second chunk slithered into his gullet, leaving a slimy trail of some sort inside his mouth. But it was over. (I’ll kiss the ass of every god in heaven, if I live through the night.) And he had managed to maintain his stoic composure the entire time, despite that aberration of eggs, vegetables, and cheese defiling any of his former notions of a just and decent universe. Sometimes he amazed even himself…

“How was it?! Didja’ like it? Did I overcook it? Undercook it? Come on, Big Mac, I need feedback!” She had somehow done both. He couldn't even begin to understand the thermodynamics as to how that was possible.

“It was delicious, Apple Bloom. About as good as anythin’ Granny can make. Thank you.” He saw the old mare grin at the blatant lie.

“Alright! Maybe I was wrong about not getting a cooking Cutie Mark after all! I guess I just wasn’t tryin’ hard enough. Thanks, big bro!”

The tiny filly planted a kiss on his cheek and ran off to use the living room phone to call her fellow Crusaders about her “success.” He was glad that a local telecomm company had set the farm up with phone lines. It finally felt like the old place was entering the New Age of Technology...now all they needed was air conditioning. But the phone lines had come with a price: High-pitched, overly enthusiastic squeals generated randomly throughout the day. But as long as she didn’t run up the phone bill too much, he could bear the noise. It had been expensive enough just setting up the damn phone lines. Mac turned towards his grandmother and sister. They were both looking at him adoringly. It seemed his “sacrifice” had more than made up for his argument with AJ. Hopefully, he’d be able to keep this nasty mess down during the night. But he wasn’t especially optimistic. The veggie omelet MRE was in a middleweight class. This was a heavyweight fight.

“I’ll clean the table an' help ya’ll with the dishes.”

“Not after what you just went through fer Apple Bloom, you ain’t! You just get yerself a shower an' hit the hay.” She was proud of him again. He was glad...he'd never wanted to hurt his family for any reason.

“Eeyup.” Mac was in no shape to argue.

He limply nodded and slavishly went upstairs, taking a quick shower and heading straight to bed after a rather violent bout of vomiting. (I knew I couldn’t keep this shit down.) He lay on his mother’s old quilt, fixated on what had gone through his mind earlier now that he was alone. The anger had almost taken him completely for little reason. It had happened before. A great, gaping void of ebony. A big, black backwards thing that threatened to overpower his mind. Never before, though. Not like this. Not in front of his family. He languidly closed his eyes as one last thought shot through his head. An important question.

Why? Why now?

“Hey, Twilight! Open up, willya’?” The lithe, blue Pegasus knocked on the crimson door to the Ponyville Library..which was oddly situated in a living tree…a fact that she had always found weird. Trees don't have books inside them. Sugarcube Corner was dessert-themed...but that made sense. (Aaauggh! Come on! Why is she always so slow to answer? It’s so annoying.) Her irritation was abated by a sound from inside. She composed herself quickly upon hearing a series of clicks from the door. A diminutive, purple dragon stuck his head out.

“Hey, Rainbow. Here to see, Twi? She’s stuck in some book about Philosophy of Magic and junk. She’ll be busy with it for a while.”

“Aw, crap. Thanks, Spike. But can I just go up and talk to her anyway? Only be a minute.”

“Sure, no problem. But you won’t be able to grab her atten-woah!! Rainbow! What’s that metal stuff in your face?!” The baby dragon pointed at three small, metallic objects embedded in her nose, lip, and left ear.

“Just some piercings, dude. Relax. I got ‘em done yesterday after work.”

“Jeez, Rainbow…Did they hurt?”

“Nah. So, whaddya’ think?” She really thought they completed her whole "rocker chick" look. She had gotten them done at the nearby tattoo parlor, and she'd wanted a tattoo to match...but she knew better. You couldn't get rid of a tattoo.

“I…don’t really know what to think. I don’t know anything about what’s “cool” nowadays stuck in the library and castle all the time. Maybe you should ask Twilight.”

“Oh, I’m sure she’ll love ‘em, dude.” (Man, this’ll be even better than that whole “Future Twilight” thing. Okay, maybe not that funny.)

“…right…I smell a big argument coming, and I don’t want anything to do with it. I’ll be at Sugarcube Corner until “Her Majesty” is done lecturing you or whatever. You know how anal-retentive she is. Have fun hearing all about "the dangers of unsanitary tattoo parlors and lead poisoning." She's on edge as is right now." Spike rattled all this off with a sort of detached resignation. He looked exhausted from cleaning all day...he really needed to get out more.

“Heheheh…no prob, Spike. If you want, we can hang out later. I know you’re crawling the walls right now. Seeya’.” Spike answered with a simple, grateful nod on his way out the door.

The pint-sized dragon was always at Twilight’s side, helping her with all the practical things a complete nerd like her couldn’t do. Also, he always seemed to be the sole voice of doubt when it came to all of their crazy adventures. If it weren't for his complete loyalty to Twilight and her friends (especially Rarity), she doubted he'd still hang around. Those two "dragon incidents" had worried her. How did somepony (or err…some..dragon) as young as Spike turn out so cynical? She still loved the little dragon's unique brand of sarcasm. But she was getting sidetracked. She'd just come to ask if Twilight wanted to hang out later that night.

Rainbow walked into the cool, dim interior of the library where her newly-crowned princess and Alicorn friend lived and obsessively poured over any academic texts she could find. A library as a home was definitely a match for her. Rainbow walked over the foyer, taking care not to knock over any of the innumerable stacks of books…all of which Twilight had apparently read. (Nerd.) She hadn’t been in here in a while. Usually, her visits revolved around borrowing an unread Daring Do novel, but she had already torn through the entire series. And the next novel wasn’t due for release until November…it was mid-April. (Dammit! Why can’t A.K. Yearling write faster!?)

“Hi, Rainbow. It’s nice to see you decided to use the front door instead of the windows today.” The prim and proper voice of her friend coming from behind her made her jolt. Did Twilight just sneak up on her? Or was she just going deaf or something?

“Dude. Are you still on my case about the busted window? I already got it fixed for you. And what’s with the ninja routine?” Twilight chuckled at her candor.

“I didn’t mean to startle you. You were just focused on that pile of Daring Do’s you’ve already finished. And I’m not hounding you about the window. I just never understood why you couldn’t use the door.”

“Doors are overrated. So what’re you up to?”

“Reading a series of treatises on the philosophy of magic’s proper usage and abuse. I have to bone (Heheheh…she said ”bone”…) up on all my knowledge for the upcoming consortium at the castle. I don’t want the Saddle Arabian wizard emissary to think Princess Celestia’s protégé is an uneducated dolt!...ehehehe…uhh…ahem.” Rainbow could tell by her purple friend’s nervous laughter that she was petrified of embarrassing her mentor.

“Sounds boring.”

“Oh, it is. For once, I agree with you, Rainbow. Well, at least refreshing what I already know is boring, but learning something new and exchanging theories with experts is always fun.”

“Don’t sweat it so much, Twi. I’m sure you’ll blow ‘em away. You’re like a walking, talking dictionary and encyclopedia…pony…thing.” (Heheheh…I said “blow!”… Jeez, what am I? 14?)

“I appreciate your faith in me, Rainbow. Anyway, I’m taking a break for a bit, so we can talk. Would you like some tea?” Twilight sauntered over to the tiny stove top and set a kettle on to boil. Twilight was still too far away to notice what was different about her appearance today, seeing as she was about as nearsighted as a rhinoceros with pinkeye.

“No, thanks. I’m good. I just wanted to come over and get your opinion on something.”

“Oh? Regarding?”

“Can’t you see what’s different about me today, Twi?”

“Err…not…really, Rainbow…what?”, said a squinting Twilight Sparkle.

“Jeez, dude! Just wear the glasses! You can’t see shit without ‘em.”

“I DO wear them. Just for..uh…night time reading. I don’t like wearing them in public. They make me look…frumpy.”

“The hell does “frumpy” mean?!”

“Unflattering and awkward.”

“Heheheheh...but like...that’s so totally you in a nutshell. No breaking news there, yo.”

“Hilarious. Anyway, what was it that you wanted my opi-huh? Did you get your nose and ear pierced? You've got a lip ring, too.”

“Yeah. Whaddya’ think?”

“Huh. I guess they look okay. It’s just a bit “out of the blue.” I can’t say I’m personally fond of facial piercings, but it’s your face, Rainbow.”

“Oh...okay. Cool.” "Crazy Twilight" wasn't coming out to play. Oh well.

"They’re not too intrusive or garish, and they seem to fit your personality...but I’m no Rarity when it comes to judging appearances.”

"Okay. Thanks...I guess..."

“Not the typical reaction associated with mild approval, Rainbow.”

"Oh, no...it's nothing. I thought you were gonna' go off on me or something."

Now why would I do that? I had my ears pierced when I was a filly myself. I wouldn't dream of getting my nose or lip pierced, though. It looks painful."

"Nah, dude. It didn't hurt."

"If you say so...oh! The kettle's boiling! Just a second." Rainbow's geeky, purple friend cheerily turned towards the stove...Rainbow saw her chance. It would likely piss Twilight off...but it would be worth it. It was too damn funny not to try. She reached forward with one forehoof and stepped on the back of Twilight's left rear ankle.

"Flat tire!!" It was a joke her dad had pulled on her since she was five years old. But Rainbow was far more coordinated and athletic than her friend...Princess Twilight went careening face first into the stove.

"Gah!! Owww....my head....Rainbow!! What the hell!!?" Oops.

"Oh, shit!! You alright Twi?! I didn't think you'd...like...dive-bomb into the stove..." Rainbow helped her stand back up. Twilight had a rather nasty expression on her face...Rainbow knew what that face meant.

"Why in Celestia's name did you do that?!" Twilight held her bruised head with one hoof; her nasty expression darkened even further. She really needed to lighten up.

"It was just a joke! I do it all the time with AJ!" (Wait a sec...that came out wrong...)

"Trying to give me a debilitating case of brain damage is funny?! Is this a derivative of some new, sadistic trend in comedy of which I haven't been made aware?" She was being overly dramatic. Rainbow knew her friend's head was as hard as granite. She had slammed her own head into the back of Twilight's once after getting dragged into the Diamond Dog mines. Not fun.

"Jeez, Twi...lighten up! How was I supposed to know you have no balance?!"

"Because I've told you before, Rainbow. I only just got the hang of flying finally." It was true. Rainbow had just forgotten it. Twilight could barely fly thanks to her virtual lack of equilibrium.

"Oh, yeah. Hey, I'm sorry, dude....but ya' gotta' admit...hehehe...it WAS pretty funny!" Twilight wasn't laughing.

"Trying to give me a concussion isn't really funny...but it's okay. You didn't mean it. It was an accident." Sort of an accident...but how was it her fault that Twi barely had the coordination to walk in a straight line? (She'd never pass a flying sobriety test.)

“That's it? You're not gonna' go all preachy on me, are ya'?"

"Of course not. I'm not your mother. You're twenty years old. Besides...the effort on my part would just be another exercise in futility."

"Oh. Rad. Usually you flip the fuck out."

"I...do NOT...flip the f-word out." Rainbow snickered as Twilight indignantly struck a regal pose. Rainbow had always thought it funny how her purple, nerdy friend went to extreme lengths to avoid cursing.

"Oh, yeah? Don't you remember how you went ballistic that one time where you caught me using one of your zu-“

“We’ve agreed to never mention that again, Rainbow. You swore to me. Remember?”

“My bad. Won't happen again. Scout’s honor.” (The Zucchini Event….)

“So, this was all some sort of joke? Or a weird ploy for attention? You only seem to come visit me when you're bored or want to borrow a Daring Do novel.”

“Well...I was gonna' ask you something...it was the real reason I came over...I kinda' forgot now...but I guess you're right. I have been pretty bored lately.”

“Lovely. Good to know I'm an endless source of diversion for you, Rainbow. Maybe next time you're bored, you can turn the gas up on the stove while I'm gone so I burn my eyebrows or something when I light it...in the off chance that the library doesn't explode.”

“Hey, I don’t judge what YOU do when YOU’RE bored! You're making it sound like I just use you for pranks or something.”

“No...that's not at all what I meant, Rainbow. You just have a tendency to get into trouble when you're not keeping busy. And I don't mind company, but can't you find better things to do in your free time than play pranks on me? Why not read a book or go to the beach? The weather’s warm enough for it.”

“I can’t read normal books! They’ve got those…long-ass words that you like to use. And I can’t find a bathing suit in my size.”

“I already know you're a lot smarter than you let on, and ponies don’t usually wear clothes anyway, Rainbow.”

“Well, maybe they should..uhh..start wearing clothes. Everypony can see everypony else’s downtown business!”

“1.) That's irrelevant. 2.) You don't need clothes to cover your unmentionables. That's what tails are for.”

“Now that I think about it…that does seem kind of a dumb thing to say...weird, too. But what was I gonna' ask you...” She languidly began stretching out her wings while trying to remember the initial reason for her visit.

“I agree in both respects. You seem to be gravitating more towards the "dumb/weird" dichotomy as of late. Hmm...I think I used "dichotomy" out of context...” Twilight was smirking. Good. At least she wasn't pissed off anymore...but Rainbow didn't have even the most elementary understanding of what the word "dichotomy" meant.

“Hehehe...Jeez! I get it! I'm sorry! I'm a jerk! Happy, now?”

“Absolutely. Just try to think about the potential consequences before you do decide to fatally prank somepony. This was almost Pinkie Pie-esque...albeit you've yet to have unintentionally demolished one of Applejack's barns like she did. Is that all you wanted to talk about?” Rainbow enjoyed how verbose Twilight was, although she'd never admit it. Even though Rainbow pretended to have a disdain for "nerdiness" and "eggheads", she admired how shockingly brilliant her friend was.

Twilight was almost frighteningly smart. Like alien smart...or some sort of robot kind of smart. She could read a single page of a book in two seconds and remember all of it. And she knew more about history and magic than anypony Rainbow had ever known. She could see Twi's credentials hanging on one of the walls of the tree-library. It was two doctorates: one in theoretical magic and another in theoretical physics. The 23 year old mare had earned a dual doctorate from Celestia's School for Gifted Unicorns! It was something unheard of...no pony had ever earned their doctorate (Let alone TWO!) at so young an age. Twilight had been studying at a 12th grade high school level at the age of nine. Rainbow had never even graduated...she had quit school her freshmen year at Cloudsdale High. It wasn't easy to hang onto your self-esteem around Twilight...(Just talking to her is enough to make anypony feel dumb as a bag of rocks wrapped in Derpy's hair.) It didn't help that she was also one of the most powerful sorceresses alive...and a princess to boot. It almost seemed like Twilight had too many perks in life for it to be fair to anypony else in Rainbow's eyes...even though the purple princess never acted arrogant or superior to the local Ponyvillians. It was no wonder why she was chosen to be Princess Celestia's protégé.

"Oh, whatever...now what was I going to ask you?..."

The only pony in town who could match the local princess in brains was AJ's brother. A light blush came to her cyan cheeks...she had always carried a torch for the big guy. For years. AJ had told her that her family paid for Big Mac to take the same IQ test as Twilight at the Castle library, where it was administered by royal scholars. The big, red stallion had the...exact...same...IQ as Twilight!! What were the odds?! She'd never have guessed it either. He'd always just seemed like a silent, muscle-headed gorilla (well...a really hot gorilla...wait...that came out wrong.) He'd never opened his mouth long enough for anypony to figure out how smart he was. The massive, musclebound pony had barely ever talked to anypony...he barely even talked to his own family.

"Take your time, Rainbow...just don't pull any more pranks."

Mac probably didn't have anywhere near the same education as Twilight, but AJ said he was almost as much a walking encyclopedia as the mauve genius herself. According to her, Mac was also like a calculator when it came to numbers, and he had an incredible penchant for epistemological deconstruction when it came to philosophy. Of course, Rainbow had no idea what the latter of those two things was, but it had the desired effect. He was smart AND strong...he was pretty much the most sought after bachelor in Ponyville. All the local mares fawned over him...to a somewhat repugnant degree. Rainbow might have been pretty enamored with Big Red, but she'd never stoop to their level...making "boo-boo eyes" and giggling incessantly about him. She hated gushy, girly bullshit. It was no wonder why most mares in town disliked Rainbow. She didn't fit in with most of them...and they might be jealous of her Element of Loyalty status.

"Yes...Your Majesty....as you command." Rainbow smirked. It always got on Twilight's nerves when she used the phrase.

"Ugghhh...you know I hate that, Rainbow."

"Oh, whatever. Now what was I gonna' ask you...?"

"Well...whatever it was, I hope it was important enough to bounce in here and start going all Pinkie Pie on me." Twilight giggled. Rainbow and her friends used the phrase "going Pinkie" as a euphemism for doing random shit. She laughed herself. Good thing, too. All the anger from earlier had dissipated as suddenly as it had manifested itself.

“Oh, yeah! That reminds me. Speaking of Pinkie, you wanna’ hit up the bars later tonight with us?” It was about time she remembered.

“Uhh...I think I'll pass...not sure why you even asked me. You know I don’t drink, Rainbow. Alcohol can cause brain damage...maybe not as much as smashing your head into a stove but...still.” (What a tool...she's still on about that?)

“So what? You can just come hang out with us. They got karaoke and food, too. You don’t have to get hammered or anything. That’s Pinkie’s job. Is Her Royal Highness too good to come get crunk with us commoners? I’d bet you’d be down if that Flash Sentry dude was coming along.”

“You know that’s not why I don’t want to go, Rainbow. And I’m still too busy studying to even consider it.” She detected a faint blush on her friend’s purple cheeks. (Heheheh…”cheeks”…dammit, grow up!!)

“I know, I know. I’m just giving you a hard time. Busting your chops, ya’ know? Sometimes I just gotta' remind you that I knew you before you were "Her Royal Majesty" or some shit. Anyway…so you’re sure you don’t wanna’ come out with us?" (Once again...that came out wrong.)

“I’m going to have to pass on this one, Rainbow…but thanks for asking. I’m not all that fond of the bar scene, but we can all go out to Canterlot together sometime if you want. By the way, didn’t the weather team break for their lunch hour at 11:00?”

“Yeah. What’s up?”

“It’s fifteen past noon. You’re 15 minutes late. I don’t want you to get in trouble with your supervisor.”

“Pfft. Whatever. You’d be surprised how little he cares. And it’s not like we got any REAL work to do. I usually get the entire day’s weather set up in the first hour. No worries.” Rainbow hated having to work on Sunday anyway.

“Alright, then. Well, I have to get back to work, Rainbow. Drop by some other time. I’ll be at Applejack’s later this afternoon to pick up a few things for my trip.”

“Sure, Twi. No prob. We'll all come visit you at the Castle sometime and hang out. We can check out the clubs in Canterlot. They got a pretty rad night life there and stuff. Tons of stuff to do there. Gotta' watch out for Pinkie, though. She'll go totally apeshit.”

"I...guess it couldn't hurt to go to a club or two...I do love to dance. Sure...why not? I appreciate the offer, Rainbow. Don't worry about Pinkie. I'll keep my eye on her, if she comes along." Rainbow giggled. She knew Twilight liked to dance, but she was pretty awful at it. She remembered how Twi had done that weird jig at the Castle garden party. It had been pretty funny.

"Alright! Finally gotcha' to do something fun for a change! Well...I guess I'll get outta' here. Good luck with your magic stuff. I'll seeya' later, Twi."

"Bye, Rainbow. Until later." Rainbow quickly flapped her wings and took to the air, rocketing through one of the library’s open windows.

“Use the door, Rainbow!!”

“No!! Overrated!!”

Earlier that morning at Sweet Apple Acres....

Big Mac awoke from his sleepy stupor with a start at the sound of whispering voices outside his bedroom door. The knob slowly began turning, but it stopped midway. Big Mac always locked his door. He also always kept a weapon handy…which in this particular case said weapon was a rather nasty looking throwing hatchet he kept in his pillowcase. He could hear the voices frantically bickering, making an overall pretty poor attempt at subterfuge. The sound of a hairpin sliding into the lock reached his ears. Why break into Sweet Apple Acres? They hardly had anything worth stealing. Unless...a dark, dreadful possibility crossed his mind. He readied the hatchet, praying that whoever this intruder was, he hadn’t planned on harming his family. (What if he already hurt ‘em?)

“Come on in, cocksucker…I got somethin' for ya’.” Mac was enraged at the thought of a home invader hurting his girls, and this time the anger was well justified. He bared his teeth, his face contorted in a grimace of pure fury. The door slowly opened, gradually revealing three small figures. A very familiar, little voice whispered something…

“Be quiet, Scootaloo! Yer gonna’ wake him up before we do the thing!” Another, more feminine voice announced it’s confusion.

“What was the “thing” again?”

“Ugh…really, Sweetie Belle? Don’t run into the door!” Mac hear a blunt Whump! sound as Sweetie had walked into the door before fully opening it.

“Ow. My head... Let’s just do the thing…that I…definitely still remember what it is.”

Big Mac frantically hid the hatchet under his bed and quickly wiped the enraged snarl from his face. He didn’t have time to hop back under the covers, but it didn’t seem to matter to the three intruding figures, as they started screaming in unison…at least two of them started in unison…Sweetie Belle was a full four seconds late.

“CUTIE MARK CRUSADERS WAKE UP CALL!!! IT’S 7:00 A.M!!!

“Awwww…he wasn’t even asleep. We practiced that all night fer nothin'. I guess we ain't gettin' a mornin'-related Cutie Mark neither.” (So, that's what that racket was last night?!)

Was there no sanity or goodness left in the world?! Also, when had he ever slept past 5:00 A.M.? He was usually the first pony awake. It was a Sunday, so he could take the day off. (But I still gotta’ go pick up them roof tiles fer the barn we got left from the hardware store. Why’d Apple Bloom think makin’ a trebuchet, chuckin’ rocks all over the place was a good idea?) Most of the week’s work was finished, but it wasn’t like him to oversleep...even though he'd be thankful for any rest at all, seeing as there would be little of it during planting and harvest time.

“Can’t we just try again?” ……………(Oh, what fresh Hell is this?!)

“We can’t just try again, Sweetie Belle. That’s like tryin’ to throw a surprise party, but ya' spoil the surprise. It just don’t work.” Mac breathed a heavy sigh and braced himself to hear their inevitable formulation of a new scheme to get their Cutie Marks. The Crusaders had been heavily reliant on him to help of late.

"So, what're we gonna' do now? We need a new plan of action, dammit! Hey, Red! Can we borrow your power saw?", asked Scootaloo.

"Eenope."

"Awww, come on!"

"Eenope." He wasn't budging. She'd likely saw her own legs off by accident. Or some other pony's legs by accident...or on purpose.

Scoots had always been the little felon of the three fillies. It was likely she who'd picked the lock on his door...a skill that a normal, little filly shouldn't know. As troublesome as Apple Bloom could be sometimes, she had nothing on Scoots. Mac remembered Cherilee telling him a rather unnerving story back when they were dating. Apparently, Scootaloo had set Diamond Tiara's desk on fire, after she'd made fun of her in front of a colt she liked. (That girl's headed fer prison one day...)

"Man, you're a wet blanket...so what now?" Whatever didn't involve him or destroying property and reputations alike would be a welcome change.

Big Mac had a strange relationship with the three fillies and their obsessive little crusade for their Cutie Marks. Sometimes their antics were a source of pure amusement. Other times they embodied the antithesis to order and sanity. (Discord would be proud, I’m sure.) He was torn by how damn adorable they were, and how he often had to play damage control for their more insane schemes that backfired. Quite frankly, he was getting rather tired of fixing broken windows and taking care of “boo boos” when they got hurt. It was all very draining.

He once even had to take them all to the ER for an awful case of poison oak after they ran through the woods willy-nilly during a camping trip. That very same camping trip had also cost him both his eyebrows after Scootaloo emptied half a can of lighter fluid into the campfire. It took two whole months before they fully grew back, and everypony kept asking about his new and perpetually surprised visage. (Had to use a marker to color ‘em in. Crude but effective.) He was thankful for having grown his eyebrows back by the time he started dating Cherilee...despite Scootaloo's subsequent fire that she'd started roughly at the same time in the Apple family's very kitchen. How did anypony start a fire by just rolling dough for pies? Scootaloo seemed to have an unhealthy obsession with burning things...and power tools.

“Apple Bloom, Sweetie Belle, and Scootaloo!! Leave Big Mac alone, and get down here for breakfast!” His sister’s voice was like an angel’s aria. (Thanks, AJ.)

Apple Bloom’s two little friends often came by the farm on their way to school to take part in Granny Smith’s legendary breakfasts. Seeing as their school was closed on Sunday, Sweetie and Scootaloo likely used their late-night rehearsal for their so-called "wake up call" as a flimsy pretense to have a sleepover. Hopefully, they wouldn't set anything on fire today. Or at least Scootaloo wouldn't. Maybe. He wasn't crossing his hooves on that one. The three little fillies scrambled down the stairs, making an unholy din and racket as they went. If he was going to get through the day, he needed a quick drink. He opened up his nightstand drawer, taking out an old, tarnished metal flask of bourbon that had belonged to his father. He estimated that he’d just need a little drink to get him through the morning. (Cheers, Pa.) The bourbon was cheap, but it did the trick somewhat. He was ready to tackle the day.

“Awwwww, yeah!! PANCAKES!!!!” The ear-splitting sound of several plates smashing into the kitchen linoleum below echoed up the stairs followed by his grandmother’s protest.

“Y’all damned little heatherns! Y’all better be glad that weren’t my good china!”

“Eenope. Gonna’ need the whole flask today.”

After seeing the three fillies out the door to go off and do...whatever the fuck they did usually on a Sunday and inhaling his breakfast, Big Mac headed back upstairs to get ready for the day. He opened the door to the guest bathroom…to find a sopping wet pile of towels on the floor. (Applebloom...dammit...) How could such a tiny filly need so many towels to dry off? And why couldn’t she use the other bathroom? Bloom and AJ shared their own bathroom, and he shared this one with his grandmother. (Whatever.) He tossed them into the hamper and stepped up to the mirror, taking in his reflection for the first time in a long while.

Woah. His strawberry blonde mane was getting long. It was almost shoulder length. Now he knew why AJ had been teasing him lately for looking like a crazy, homeless pony. And he hadn’t shaved in over a week. The thick stubble was forming a pretty convincing beard. Maybe he’d just grow it out for the hell of it. He had grown one of those survivalist style beards once. It was back when he was deployed to the Western Badlands just north of buffalo territory to stomp out the warlords and bandits who took advantage of the lawless region. They were trafficking Gryphonic weaponry, drugs, and mares abducted from Appleloosa. Even though he was already a veteran of multiple, nasty campaigns and innumerable blacklight ops, the sheer brutality of the Badlands bandits had still caught him off guard. What they did to that one pioneer…a mother of three..

“Fuckin' animals, man. What kinda' pony could do somethin' like that?”, he pondered out loud to himself.

Well, now wasn’t the time for retrospect. He eyed his profile in the mirror again. He wasn’t bad looking. A few scars here and there, but the thickness of his coat covered up most of the nastier ones. He had a pretty solid chin and jaw. But nothing special. (Well, I got Pa’s eyes. Don’t know where the red coat done come from, though.) He certainly didn’t believe he was as attractive as the local mares seemed to think. Maybe it was because Ponyville had a pretty blatant numerical disparity in genders. It was about ten to one for mares and stallions. Living out here in the ass-end of nowhere with virtually no single stallions probably made him seem like a pretty hot commodity by default. Of course, he didn’t have time for that sort of thing anymore what with the planting season coming up and all the general repairs that needed doing. He grinned. He didn’t fully understand his sex appeal, but he wasn’t complaining either.

He decided on keeping the beard, making doubly sure to shave all the stubble off his neck. (I don’t wanna’ look like one of them…comic book convention ponies.) After brushing his teeth and taking a quick shower, he sauntered into to his room and opened his closet. An old, chestnut brown Stetson hat was sitting on top a stack of newspapers. (Pa’s hat.) He hadn’t worn it since that one 96-hour liberty call in Fillydelphia. (Hehehe…good times, boy.) Eh. Why the hell not? He dramatically put his father’s hat on top his head, pulling the front brim down low over his eyes with a roguish grin. After grabbing a few leather saddlebags and putting on his toolbelt, he trotted downstairs and out the kitchen’s screen door. His fit of anger the day before no longer troubled him. Walking into the warm, morning sunshine, he muttered a single sentence to himself with a newfound confidence...

“I ain’t about to let a glorified hissy fit keep me from gettin’ done what needs doin’.”

Rainbow Dash landed softly on the cloud-made steps of the local weather management station. It was a pitifully small building with a single bathroom, supervisorial office, and break room. No wonder. Ponyville only had a team of five Pegasi plus her supervisor to manage the town’s weather. Not that they needed the extra help. She had no problems managing the cloud systems on her own. There was never much work to do. Ponyville was pretty small. She entered the tiny station, coming face to face with her boss just sitting down at his desk.

Stanley Cloudsweep was an almost awkwardly tall and thin, middle-aged Pegasus with a dark brown Stalliongrad style mustache and a cream colored coat. He was wearing a blue Wonderbolts cap (I have that same cap.) to disguise his receding hairline (You’re not fooling anypony, bro.), and he just generally looked like one of those ponies you couldn’t take seriously. The guy’s limbs were so wiry that they looked like they’d been stretched out on one of those old torture rack things. But her normally nonchalant boss had a concerned expression on his typically jovial, thin face.

“Hey, Rainbow. I know you just back from lunch, but I’ve got some news for you.” That didn’t sound good.

“Aww, crap. What’s wrong, Stan?”

“You remember that Imperial Weather Committee that came through here last month?”

“Yeah?”

“Well, normally they just approve our budget for every quarter. Just give us a big check and whatnot. But some of these new auditors are real ball breakers, kid.” (Just spit it out, dude.)

“I don’t like where this is going.”, she muttered as Stanley pulled out a document from his desk drawer.

“Yeah, me neither…well…how it already went. Apparently, that last audit uncovered...and I quote…”a gross misappropriation of taxpayers’ bits. The Ponyville chapter of the Imperial Weather Service has proven itself to be insufferably incompetent and wasteful. The last fiscal quarter’s amalgamated budget for this local weather station was spent entirely in less than two months total. New measures must be taken to prevent any further depletion of the Imperial coffers to fund this cesspool of a public service"

“Jeez…a bit harsh, right?”

“Yeah. That’s a pretty bad sign. Usually those stuffy-ass government clerks try to sugar coat it for everypony. This doesn’t exactly inspire confidence. Also, we’re completely broke for the rest of the year. So…no new promotions or salary increases.”

“WHAT?! I needed that promotion!” She was almost in panic mode now.

Her rent was due soon, and she was relying on next week’s paycheck to pay it. Her roommate, Ditzy Doo, worked for the local mail service, but she didn’t earn enough to make up the slack for Rainbow's end. She had to figure something out, or she’d have to move back in with her mom in Cloudsdale. (There’s gotta’ be a silver lining here. Maybe we’re still getting next week’s pay before the cut-off date.)

“Yeah. And we’re not getting paid next pay period either. The auditors cut us off. But that ain't even the worst of it.” (FUCK! Silver lining, you suck!)

“How can they just “cut us off?” We’re government employees! We have guaranteed pay, benefits, and vacay!”

“Ooohh…uhh…yeaaah...(Why is he cringing right now?)…you see, Rainbow, that’s the thing. We’re no longer considered “government employees.”

“Did we all just get shitcanned, dude?! Man, I got a tortoise to feed!”

“Not exactly…but sort of…maybe. You ever heard of Nimbus Co.?”

“Yeah. It’s that private weather company based in Detrot, right?”

“That’s the one. Long story short: the auditors kinda went on a “pork barrel” crusade. They found all sorts of mismanagement of funds and whatnot, so they froze everypony’s pay temporarily.”

“Temporarily? That’s good, right?” (I’m so sorry I doubted you, silver lining.)

“Well, not really. At least not for most of us. Us little local weather stations don’t get those big, preapproved budgets like in the cities. Those guys get guaranteed pay increases after working for so long and whatnot. We have to dole out employee salary increases from our allotted budget. So…no cigar.”

“Okay…but you didn’t tell me WHY it’s a bad thing. What’s that got to do with our pay freeze?!” She liked her boss, but she was strongly considering strangling the gangly stallion. What was the point of telling her all this shit? Was she getting fired or not?

“Well…(If you say “well…” one more time, Stan!!..) the auditors sourced us and all the other local stations out to Nimbus. We’re all private now. And those Nimbus suits have some pretty stringent employment standards.”

“So, we’re not technically fired? We’re just working for a corporation now?” This was excruciating.

Why didn't Stanley just cut out all the minute details and get to the actual fucking point? This wasn't a pleasant topic, so his treating it the same as the tedious, platitudinous pleasantries that coworkers exchanged politely with one another by the water cooler didn't merit much sense to Rainbow. She just needed the bare bones. Stan was likely showing off his eidetic memory. Asshole.

“Well…(QUIT IT!) Nimbus had their own auditing committee go through most of the local stations already. They fired over 3/4 of all the local weather teams in Equestria. This started three days ago. After the Imperial Investigators finish their witchhunt for all the “wasteful larcenists”, Nimbus’ll take over the pay system and unfreeze it for the 1/4 they decided to keep. It was in all the papers, Rainbow.”

“I..uhh..what?” She had almost never paid attention to the news in the exception of postings for the latest Wonderbolts shows.

“It’s been a pretty big shitstorm. Celestia herself promised to prosecute anypony guilty of criminal waste and stuff. All the local station heads are getting the boot just to be certain. A ton of laid off weather guys are bitching up a storm right now.”

“So, you’re getting canned?”

Yep. I actually just put in my resignation notice. They kinda gave me an ultimatum: Resign with full government benefits while still a part of the Imperium or get fired by Nimbus without so much as a severance package.”

“How'd you get such a cushy deal?”

“Hey, I’ve been doing this for twenty years. I already earned my retirement. Been ridin’ the Mediocrity Train all the way. Ride had to end eventually, though, right?” She suddenly had an epiphany as to what a complete sloth her boss of almost two years was.

“Well, no wonder you’re so fucking calm, man! But I haven’t been here that long. I’m disposable!” (Silver lining, you still suck!)

“Hey, relax, Rainbow. There’s still a chance Nimbus’ll keep you. You pretty much did all the work around here singlehoofed.

“We should’ve never bought that movie projector for the break room!”

“Hey! Don’t you say that! We got see all three Batmare movies at work! And the popcorn machine was worth it, too! No job security is worth more than that!! That’s what I call riding the Gravy Train.”

“I thought it was the Mediocrity Train?”

“That, too. The Mediocre Gravy train.” "Mediocre Gravy Train" sounded like a shitty indie band to Rainbow.

“Jeez, man..I’m screwed.” She should’ve known that the station’s crap standards and schizophrenic spending would come back to bite them all in the flanks. Stanley’s hazel eyes softened a bit from seeing his prized employee so down.

“Look, kiddo. I feel bad for you, so let me help you out. I know one of the supervisors over at the Rainbow Factory who needs some new technicians. You can use me as a reference.” Stanley could quite possibly be the absolute worst reference in equine history.

“I’d need a tech school cert to do that stuff, Stan. Thanks for trying to help, but I think I just wanna’ go home now.” If she could’ve gotten a job there, then her mother would’ve made it happen by now. In fact, her mother was the pony who'd gotten her current weather management job in the first place.

“No problem, kiddo. I already sent the rest of the team home for the day. No sense hanging around here if we ain’t gettin’ paid, right? Oh, and cool piercings, by the way. They look really anti-establishment.” Stanley rattled that off without the slightest hint of sarcasm in his voice.

“Uhh..thanks?” Now the piercings seemed lame, having been awkwardly validated by a middle-aged stallion who wanted to look “hip” to ponies her age.

“Good luck out there, Dash.”

“You, too. Sorry you got canned, bro. It’s been nice working with you.” She flew off the station platform into the afternoon sky with new worries weighing her down.

The day had started off so great, too. With this run of luck, she’d get back to her apartment to find Tank dead from tortoise AIDS or that her roomie was turning into a werepony or something. She needed to talk to AJ about all this. She always knew how to calm her down, so Rainbow had confided a lot of her more "confidential" feelings in AJ. They had been best friends for years. Despite AJ's tendency to go off into sanctimonious, judgmental rants about her behavior and stuff, Rainbow knew any secret she told AJ was as safe as kittens...although she constantly ribbed Rainbow for liking a certain somepony. She could see Sweet Apple Acres from where she was flying. Thankfully, it was close by to where she worked.

“It just keeps getting better and better.” She could see the top of the one barn the Apples had left...thanks to Pinkie.

She was already a month behind on rent. If she lost this job, she was screwed! But there was another option. Earlier that day, she'd come across a flyer about a competition taking place in about three months...and the first place prize was 1 million bits! It was her only hope now. If Rainbow could somehow keep her douchebag landlord off her back for three more months, she could not only pay off her debts but also potentially never have to work again in her life! (How fuckin' rad would that be?! Pretty rad, I'd say!) She could just practice her flying all day! No more cloud kicking or anything! But...that competition would be tough. She would need some help.

"Maybe I can get AJ on board."

"

Author's Notes:

First chapter revised.