Pilots and Weather Updates
Pilots and Weather Updates
“You’re live in three minutes, Dick," called an irritated-sounding voice from within the editing room.
Dick wasn't done making himself look as fancy as he could. He straightened his tie, fixed his collar, checked the tie again, adjusted his blue suit cuffs, flicked a stray brown hair away from his eyes and, lastly, checked the damn tie again. I swore his improvements actually made him look worse.
I, meanwhile, buried my head in my hooves. His "fashion sense" demanded I wear the most purple-y business suit he could find, decorative fake glasses, and he had my golden mane done up in a beehive. "Tacky" was too tame to describe.
I glanced around our shamble of a studio, with a barely functioning teleprompter in front, and cameras pointed at us so shoddy in construction that if I sneezed, it would break at least two of them. Even our backdrop could be drawn better by preschoolers. The only thing not offending to the eye was what Dick spent most of our budget on: a fabulously crafted desk hewn of waxed oak, the centerpiece of the studio.
There was no conceivable way this could work. I'm still not sure what he even said to me to convince me this would work, but even so...
“This is a dumb idea. No, wait, correction: this is the dumbest idea you’ve ever conceived."
“There’s no room for naysayers at the news desk, Pigeon. Besides, if you’re here, this can’t be a dumb idea," he said with a knowing smirk on his face.
I glared at him. “My name is not Pigeon! And your name isn’t ‘Colonel Sanders’ or whatever you’re calling yourself!”
“It’s ‘Dick Sanders’, and I’m using fake names for a reason, Pigeon Hole.”
“See?!" I screamed in his face, causing his mane to blow back a bit as I yelled, "Right there! I don’t even like that name!”
He was unfazed. “Pigeon, it’s not about if you like the name. It’s about if others like it, and more importantly, remember it.”
I crossed my hooves. “I do not want to be remembered as a pigeonhole, Clam.”
He held a hoof to his lips. “SHH! No real names!”
“Two minutes!”
“Why? We’re not live yet. And, to reiterate: I still think this idea is ludicrous, and I can’t believe you roped me into it.”
“Don’t forget I roped more than just you, Pigeon. We also needed at least one weatherpony and two reporters for local and nonlocal news.”
I narrowed my eyes. “And the sports mule?”
“Donkey," he corrected.
“Whatever. Why him?" I asked as I pointed to the donkey in question, who held a bottle of Sunset Scotch in his hooves. "Look at him! He's drunk, and we haven't even started yet! How did you even find him?"
“One minute!”
“I met him in a bar during a game between the Phillydelphia Horseshoes and the Cloudsdale Stormers. He called the game in favor of the Stormers by a--" he made a wide gesture with his hooves "--massive spread of twenty points.”
“And was he right?” I asked, unconvinced.
“Oh Tartarus no, but he was the only one who had the balls to make that call before passing out on the floor in a pool of his own vomit.” Dick said all of that with a straight face. He wasn't even remotely joking.
“...and that’s why you hired him?”
“He also makes fantastic croquettes," he said with a grin, as if that was enough justification.
“What does that have to do with anything related to sports?”
“It doesn't," he admitted, "but let’s see you do the news on an empty stomach, Pigeon!”
“For the last time, stop calling me Pige--”
“We are live in three, two…”
~~~
“AAAAND good evening ponies of Equestria!" Welcome to PNN, your source for your daily pony news! I’m Dick Sanders...” He paused, waiting for me.
“And I’m…” I sighed, “Pigeon Hole…”
“...and tonight, we bring you…the news.
“Over in Manehatten, a group of textile workers for Prancer Incorporated have been on strike for the past week, citing poor working conditions including the use of dangerous equipment, no working ventilation system, lack of benefits and no bathrooms...wait, no bathrooms? Clerk, is the teleprompter right?”
"Yes, it is," I heard through my earpiece. Dick bought a cheapo headset system where there's only three frequencies that work, and this was the first.
His eyes widened. “Huh, wow. That’s actually terrible."
I tried to make a good impression. “It is appalling, Dick. Just imagine how many tireless hours those ponies have worked their hooves while holding it in," I added.
“And that might be even more of a mess if they chose to relieve themselves in the workplace."
"They did that too, Dick," Clerk said through the earpiece.
“...wait, they actually did that?!” Immediately, he started looking himself over.
“What are you doing, Dick?” I asked.
“Checking my suit’s brand name.”
“What? Why are you--”
“I picked up this suit three days ago! If it came from there I don’t even want to--” He stopped checking as soon as he found the tag and read it. “Oh, thank goodness. It’s from Hoofington’s.”
I paused as I gave him an incredulous look. “...we’re covering a story on the plight of the mistreated textile worker ponies, and you’re checking your suit just in case it came from their factory?"
“Well, I can’t exactly sympathize much with their plight when I’m wearing a piss-stained suit!” He checked his suit again, then almost leapt out of his chair. “I’ll be right back to freshen this up a bit. I’m not taking any chances.”
“How on earth are you going to do that? This is a live broadcast, Dick!” Clerk yelled.
“Just cover for me! I’ll just be a few minutes!” He exclaimed before dashing out of the studio, knocking over one of our cameras in his haste.
Clerk sighed through the headset. "Keep going, Pigeon."
I rubbed my temples for a brief moment before straightening myself. “In any case, we’ve sent one of our reporters out to the scene, and he’s being patched in now." I hit a switch on a radio buckled to my flank, hidden behind the desk. “Sky Seeker, are you there? Sky?”
“Dick, we’re...uh...on our way to the textile factory right now,” came an uncertain voice as the camera feed lit up, showing a cerulean pegasus walking on a cobblestone road and surrounded by lavish-looking buildings.
“This isn’t Dick, Sky. It’s Pigeon.”
“Who’s Pigeon?”
That was it. Professionalism be damned, I wasn’t dealing with this Pigeon business anymore. “Uuugh...it’s Lily.”
“OH! Hi Lily!” Sky greeted with enthusiasm on the screen before tilting his head to the side. “Why did you call yourself a bird?”
“I didn't call myself a bird, Sky. It was my news name. Was."
"Oh! You mean like how Clam is Colonel Sanders?"
"No, it's Dick Sa--" I brought a hoof to my face as a headache started coming. It always came when Sky was involved. "We're getting off track here. Are you in Manehatten?"
"Yes! Absolutely!" he declared proudly.
“You’re positive of this?”
“Eighty-six percent sure!”
My hoof dug deeper into my head. “...Sky, did you take the right train?”
“Correct!”
“What’s the biggest building or landmark you can see right now?” I asked, noting the camera panned over a large castle in the distance.
“Uh, one sec." He turned a full 360 onscreen, and then another 180 before stopping and screaming, "A giant white castle!”
The hoof dug deeper. "That's Canterlot, Sky."
"...what?"
"You're in Canterlot. Not Manehatten. Canterlot."
He spun around again, just to confirm his surroundings. "...oh. So does that mean--"
"Yes, you took the wrong train."
"Oh chicken livers!” His wings stood on end as he clasped his head in between his hooves. “What do I do, Lily?!"
"I don't know! Just find something to report on there!" I yelled, slamming my hooves on the desk.
His eyes lit up with realization. "Huh...should have thought of that. Thanks Lily!" He cheered before sprinting off camera to do gods-know-what for finding news.
“You’re welcome, Sky.” As the feed cut off, I rubbed my forehead with both hooves. "...I have a feeling that when I ask him how he functions, he'll tell me where the luncheon is."
“What luncheon?” Sky asked before gasping. “There’s a luncheon here?!”
I quickly flipped the switch back to the first frequency before my hooves found a comfortable spot to dig into my face again.
"I'm back!" Dick declared as he strided back to his seat, wearing his freshly pressed suit. "So, what did I miss?"
"You missed me wondering how this news show ever got off the ground."
"Oh, you're such a joker, Pigeon Ho--"
My hooves hit the desk. "Lily! They know my name is Lily now!"
"What? Why did you--"
"I spoke with Sky while you were gone."
He regarded my statement for a moment, then nodded. "...okay, that makes sense. Where is he?"
"Canterlot."
"Took the wrong train?"
I rolled my eyes. "Of course."
Now it was his turn to sigh and rub his forehead. "...okay, is he still there?"
"Yeah, looking for news. I'm trying to make him at least somewhat productive, unlike someone else I know.”
"Hey! Image is everything, Pige--I mean Lily!"
"Not when you abandon your job to do some dry cleaning!" I countered.
"Uh, Dick, Pigeon?" Clerk asked from the editing booth.
"Lily!"
"Whatever. We're still live, and as entertaining as this is for me, I still need news."
Dick turned to address the remaining cameras. "Right. Sorry, Clerk. And I apologize, ponies of Equestria, for my absence and my co-anchor’s explosive personality."
"Kiss-ass," I muttered.
"Breaking news!" Dick yelled, ignoring my statement. "The rainbows regularly produced by Cloudsdale's weather factory have come to a sudden halt! Our weathermare based there has the report." Again I flicked my switch on the radio to the last frequency, noting Dick did the same. "Light Rain, what's the situation over there?"
The video screen flickered to life as a dark purple unicorn appeared, standing outside the aforementioned building. "Dick, the situation is dire. Discord, the resident draconequus of Equestria, is responsible for the lack of rainbows.
"According to eyewitnesses who were touring the factory today, he suddenly materialized inside, muttering something about 'tasting the rainbow'. It was then that he found a vat of rainbow and began guzzling it from the tap.
"That was six hours ago, and the situation has yet to change. Staff have reported seeing his gut distend to a remarkable girth, and despite reports of the spiciness of rainbows being hotter than the hottest pepper on record, Discord has showed no signs of slowing down."
“Wait, he’s chugging the stuff like a beer keg?” Dick asked.
“Uh, yes, he is, Dick,” Rain said.
“Holy crap, he’s got some balls. I once tried topping my salad with some of the stuff before eating it.”
I looked at Dick curiously. “And how did that go?”
“It lit my salad on fire.” He paused. “Then the plate...and the table.”
I blinked a few times. “Is...is that healthy to even consume?”
“Yes. It’s prescribed as a colon cleaner, or for those that really want a kick added to their meal,” Dick clarified.
“It’s even used for Ursa mace!” Rain added.
“...why do you two know so much about this?”
“I fell into a vat once. That was not fun,” Rain clarified.
“And my salad lit on fire. It’s one of those things where you don’t believe it happened, so you do research on it just to confirm you aren’t crazy.”
I didn’t even hear Dick’s statement, too focused on imagining Rain falling into the world’s hottest hot tub. “I think I was better off not knowing.”
"Anyway, has anyone made any attempts to stop him?" Dick asked.
"No, but they've sent a letter to Canterlot requesting aid in the matter. It is unknown when help will arrive, but hopefully it will arrive soon. I'll keep you posted as the story develops."
"Thanks, Rain. And while we're here, what's the weather going to be like this week?"
"Well..." She brushed the back of her mane with a hoof. "...with all the focus going on at the rainbow factory, none of the ponies' weather team schedules have actually been compiled yet."
"...so what you're saying is you don't have a forecast yet?"
"Affirmative Dick, but I'll get back to you with a report as soon as I'm able," Rain affirmed with renewed confidence.
"Well, thanks Rain!" he said, then whispered, "...for nothing..."
"Anytime!" As the feed cut out, we flipped our headset switches.
I glared at Dick. "I heard that."
"Heard what?"
"You know what."
"Well, she's a weathermare!” He flung his hooves outward. “Without a weather forecast! What kind of weathermare doesn't have a forecast?"
"Dick, she just said why she didn't have one!"
"That's no excuse for being unprepared! She could have gotten the report, like, three hours ago!"
My ears batted. I had to confirm they still worked. "...are you deaf? She said Discord started drinking six hours ago."
"That's worse!” he exclaimed. “That means she had six hours to convince them to give her something so she can do her job!"
"You seriously haven't considered that they're not so much focused on weather when a draconequus is sucking their rainbow vats dry?"
"He can drink all he likes. It doesn't sound like he's having a problem with it," he stated as if it didn't even matter at all. "What I’m having a problem with is that she doesn’t have a weather report. End of story.”
I sighed. “Clerk, can you get her back on the line? Mister Impatient really wants his report."
"Having trouble reaching her right now, but I have a feed from Sky. He says he found some news."
"Ugh...fine, patch him in." Clerk nodded, and flicked a few switches in his booth until Sky was onscreen.
"Lily? Colonel Sanders? Are you there?"
“Dick Sanders, Sky. And yes, we’re here. You have news to report?”
"Yes!" he declared with a wide grin and staring blankly into the camera. There was no follow up.
My hoof was on my forehead in an instant.
"...so what is it?" Dick asked.
"OH!" Sky produced a small baggie of white powder. "I bought this."
It took me a few seconds to register what he was holding. "You bought drugs?!"
"No, the guy that sold me this said that I'd be able to see the world after trying it!"
"So, drugs then?" Dick asked.
“You’re not helping!”
"He didn't call it a drug! He called it moon dust!"
"Moon dust?" Dick asked with curiosity.
"I don't care what they called it! Don't try it!" I cried.
"But this bag cost me fifty bits! I can't just let it go to waste!"
"You can and you will, Sky, unless you want your first news story to be your untimely arrest."
Sky gasped. “Lily, that’s a great idea!”
I paused. “What? Wait, NO--”
Before I could finish, Sky ripped open the bag and started cramming the powder in his mouth like a foal would with a cookie jar.
“Oh, you are so taking the fall for this,” Dick snidely remarked.
“SKY! What are you doing?!”
“Ahm taphkin thuh drughs!”
Both hooves were on my head now as they bored into my skull. “I don’t believe this. I can’t believe this.” Next to me, Dick was busy stifling his laughter, and failing miserably.
“Beewheeve what?”
Slowly, slowly, I raised my head and looked at the white powder-stained face of Sky Seeker, his cheeks slightly puffed out as if he’d just consumed a baker’s dozen of powdered doughnuts.
“Nevermind. Sky, are you okay?”
He swallowed, and within moments his pupils dilated to an unreal size. “Oh gods, this is sweet! It’s like I’m eating out of the candy factory’s sugar vats!”
My mind reeled. “Sky, get to a hospital! There’s no telling what you’ve just eaten!”
“Whoa…” Suddenly, his head started to bob and weave around a bit before he started bounding like a jackrabbit. “I feel dizzy, but crazy full of energy!”
"Hah! See? It was sugar," Dick said. "He'll burn out in about an hour, then the cameramare will get him here safely. No worries."
"Oh oh! Now I gotta find a guard!" Sky yelled before running off-camera. The cameramare made a short pan to the right, catching him gunning it around a corner as he shouted, "Guards! Guards! I'm high as a kite! Whee!"
Clerk turned off the feed as I stared blankly at the screen. I turned to Dick with a worried look on my face. "Are you sure about that?"
He shrugged. "Eh, not really. Best case scenario now is he gets thrown in prison for being a public nuisance."
"Perfect, so now an arrest is guaranteed." I responded with yet more rubbing of my temples. "Well, at least he won't get in anymore trouble at that point."
“Either that or he’ll wake up in a gutter with an ‘I heart mom’ tattoo on his flank.”
"Or that...wait, what?"
"Sports time!" Dick shouted as the camera feed cut over to the drunk donkey standing in front of a green screen, still clutching his scotch bottle. "Bronco Buck, what are your picks this week?"
The donkey belched, then approached the green screen. Then, just as he was about to say something, he emptied his stomach all over the left side of the screen before falling over, passing out on the spot.
"...aw crap, he didn't even make it to the picks!" Dick cried. "I wanted to bet on a team tonight."
I ignored Dick. "Clerk, get an ambulance please. And a mop."
"Wait!" Dick shouted. "Clerk, what's on the green screen?"
"Cattleman Moovers and the Flitsburg Streamers."
"Alright, alright. Now then, which did his vomit cover more?"
My jaw opened. Was I really, seriously hearing this?
"Uh...looks like it's covering the Moovers more, Dick."
"And there you have it, folks! Buck thinks the Moovers will suck this week, so contact your bookies!"
My head fell to the desk. This was actually happening.
“...Dick?”
“Yes, Lily?”
“Am I dead yet?”
“You’re not if you can smell his vomit from here.”
I sniffed the air, then pitifully moaned.
“Oy, hate to break up your mental breakdown Lily, but Rain’s got another update on the factory situation.”
“And does she have a weather report?” Dick asked.
“She didn’t say.”
Dick brought a hoof to his head. “Set up the feed.”
In a few moments, Rain reappeared onscreen, this time in the factory with a giant brown bulge behind her.
“Hello again, Rai--OH SWEET GODS WHAT IS THAT?!” Dick yelled as he pointed at the bulge.
“That is Discord, Dick. We’ve just gotten permission to enter the factory, and Discord is still drinking.
“However, aid has finally arrived. Fluttershy and Twilight Sparkle are currently speaking with Discord now to try and coax him out of his rainbow binge.”
“Ooh, get in close so we can hear, Rain!” Dick said.
“No can do, Dick. Although we’ve permission to enter the factory, where I’m standing is the closest I’m allowed to go near Discord, and--”
Suddenly, a massive rumbling noise echoed within the factory, and Discord’s gut vibrated with intensity.
“Uh-oh. I know that noise,” Rain said before yelling, “RUN!”
Discord’s mouth became an impromptu fountain of every color imaginable, striking the roof of the factory so hard it blew a hole in it. The giant brown mass that was Discord’s gut slowly began to shrink as he deflated like a balloon.
I could only watch with disgust and awe at the sight. Dick, I was sure, was just watching in awe.
“Wow!” exclaimed Dick. “Look at those colors!”
Definitely awe.
As the last spurts of rainbow flew from Discord’s mouth, Rain retook her spot on the camera. “So...you wanted a weather report this week?”
Dick shook his head to regain his senses. “Uh, yes Rain. What’s it going to be like?”
“Rainbow rain for the next week. Wear all the clothing you can, and protect your eyes the most. No, seriously, protect your eyes. Also be prepared to use a lot of detergent. Rainbow doesn’t wash off easy.”
“Well, thanks for the report, Rain. Hope you brought an umbrella!” I said, trying to salvage what was left of what I thought was the only real news story we had.
At this, Rain laughed. “I don’t need one!”
I paused. “...you don’t?”
“I fell into a vat, remember? You sorta get immunity to pain after something like that.”
“Oh...well, uh, have a nice walk home?” I said, completely unsure of how to react.
“Thanks!”
As the feed cut out, a brief silence lingered before Dick started up again.
“Well, there you have it, citizens of Equestria. Stay indoors, and don’t leave without wearing every piece of winter clothing you have. We’ve got a reporter to bust out of prison and a drunk’s mess to clean up in the meantime. Until next week when the rain stops, this is Dick Sanders from PNN, your Pony News Network, signing off.”
As Clerk turned off the feed, a silence lingered for about ten seconds. Just ten, because that’s all I needed to gather my thoughts enough to speak coherently.
“I quit.”
Dick looked at me. “What?”
I left my chair. “I quit I quit I quit! I’m done! This...this...none of this makes any sense at all!”
“But Lily--”
“NO! I had expectations walking into this, and every last one of them was destroyed via horrific reveals or incomprehensible stupidity! I’m done, finished, and leaving.”
“I’m telling you, you can’t leave!” Dick cried with...concern in his voice? Nah, not him.
“Watch me!” I declared as I stepped out the back door, looked up at the sky…
...and saw rainbow rain.
