The Crusade For Cabbage

Chapter Tree: Alley Cat

I figured after an action packed day like that, I deserved some rest. I merrily trotted down yet another side street, my head clearer than it should have been, considering I drank six half-mugs of pony vodka. As I searched for a place to spend the night, I asked Discord a few choice questions.

Did you cause alcohol to be my hangover cure?

No, but I find it intriguing. I think it has something to do with your name.

My face was the picture of incredulity.

That's fucking stupid. Why would my name have anything to do with my alcohol tolerance and lack thereof?

Think about it. Aren't all the ponies named after their future personalities and future cutie marks?

I thought about that as I turned off onto a side street of a side street.

Most of them, I guess. But that still doesn't make any sense.

You're preaching to the choir, Waffle.

I grumbled something unprintable in reply. I supposed that in the grand scheme of things, it made sense for Discord to not make sense.

Now you're getting it.

Shaddup.

The sun had nearly set, and I still hadn't found a suitable encampment. I didn't have any cash—bits, rather—and I doubted there were any hostels in the entirety of Canterlot. Realizing that I'd have to spend the night outside, I searched for an alleyway to call my own.

I found one beside some sort of photography store. There was even a huge cardboard box conveniently nearby. I peered inside, and saw that it was almost full to the brim with those little foam peanuts used in shipping crates.

My inner child really wanted me to jump inside.

Come on, you know you want to...

Apparently, my inner nutcase wanted me to do it as well.

"I really shouldn't," I said to myself as I backed up to get a running jump, "but I'm going to anyway!"

I pranced into the box with glee, and frolicked in the miniature sea of foam packaging. I was suddenly a little kid again, back in one of those ball pits at a Chuck E. Cheese's, except there wasn't an exorbitant amount of fecal matter in the cardboard box.

Unfortunately, I soon realized that the box wasn't entirely devoid of whatever was shipped inside. I was in the middle of a graceful swan dive when my horn bashed against something hard.

"Sandpaper on my nipples, that fucking hurts!"

Apparently bashing your horn against something was the unicorn equivalent of getting kicked in the balls: it hurt just as much, except the pain was concentrated in my head instead of the area surrounding my genitals. Breathing through my teeth, I waited until the pain receded to a dull throb before figuring out what the hell was at the bottom of the box.

Diving underneath the foam peanuts, I came back up with a very heavy object. Managing to cusp it between my stupid hooves, I held it up to my own light source, a nearby streetlamp. I soon realized that it was a freaking iron ball and chain, the kind that were worn by prisoners back in the day.

What the hell was that doing there?

This can only end well...

Wait, what? What do you mean by that?

No response.

Fine then. Be that way, you serpentine shmuck.

Grumbling to myself, I heaved the medieval apparatus out, causing it to crunch loudly when it hit the cobblestone. With that out of the way, I made a little furrow and tried to curl up. For whatever reason, no matter which way I twisted and turned, it was uncomfortable as sleeping on a bunch of ball bearing.

Thankfully, before I started foaming at the mouth from eating the packaging out of anger, Discord had a few choice words.

Pace around in a circle before lying down.

I was understandable confused.

What? Pace around in a bloody circle? What, like a cat?

Exactly.

That's stupid.

Now-now, tsked Discord. Cats are intensely magical creatures that sleep for sixteen hours a day. Wouldn't you think that they would've ascertained the perfect method of falling asleep after thousands of years, hmm?

...That still doesn't make it any less stupid.

With a scowl, I walked in a small circle. For good measure, I did it again. I plopped down and immediately felt my eyelids grow heavy.

What black magic is this?

Cat magic. The darkest of the dark arts.

I was asleep before I could respond.

\\\\\

"C'mon, you lout," growled a voice. "Get outta there! I got work to do!"

I cracked open a bleary eye and immediately wished I hadn't. There was a pony with a face that not even a mother could love peering into my lovely home, and beyond that, the sun shined down with malicious intent directly into my pupils.

"I'm getting up, I'm getting up. Give me a minute, fuck." I stood up and shook to dislodge whatever foam peanuts were still clinging to me. I half expected to wake up in my crappy apartment, as a human again, but I was still stuck as a pony.

I told you: find a cabbage, and I'll send you back.

I haven't forgotten.

After getting all the cricks out of my neck, I tried to jump out of the shipping box: tried to being the key word. I landed on the edge of the box, which not only knocked the wind out of me, but had the added effect of flipping the box directly onto the ugly-ass pony that woke me up. After wriggling my half that was pinned, I stepped back and admired my handiwork.

"Oi! How the hay'd you do that?!" cried the pony from within.

"Accident. Sorry." The apology was automatic: I wasn't actually sorry. Served him right for waking me up at—

Eh, Discord? What time is it?

I saw a mental image of Discord looking at a poorly drawn watch on his arm.

Sorry, my timepiece is out of batteries. Let me draw some new ones. A blue crayon appeared in his claw, and after some furious scribbling, the watch turned into a Rolex. Ah, there we are. It is... half-past eight. In the morning, in case you weren't aware.

I'm an asshole, not a nincompoop.

I looked around and saw what appeared to be Canterlot's garbage truck equivalent; a single pony-drawn chariot with space a-plenty for the festering rubbish that all cities had.

I smirked. The garbagepony was evidently trying to clean up the alleyway, and I made it ten times as difficult as it should've been. "Have fun getting out of there without spilling thousands of those little foam peanuts, buddy."

"Buck you!"

Surprisingly jovial for someone who just absolutely ruined that pony's day, I whistled a merry tune and continued my lookout for some cabbage.