My name is Buddy

Glass breaking? I swear to Celestia, on my second day of work, if there's a break in I'm gonna be pissed. It's not even supposed to be my shift!

I clasp against the wall like it has a pony magnet, listening for anything else. I hear a quiet "Shh" and the pitter patter of hooves, but no words. Until..."I can't see anything!" A whisper/shout echoes in the darkness that is way to high pitched to be labeled as threatening. What are they, kids? Poking my head around the corner, I can't see a thing, but apparently whoever was in there could as I hear gasps. Going off that,

"Alright, who's there?" I demand more than ask as I round the corner. I hold off on turning on the switch for lights and give them a chance to reveal themselves.

Silence...

I awkwardly shuffle my hoof over the wall until finally the lights burn up my eyes, having to squint for a few until I can see even a foot in front of me. I can hear fine though as tons of little steps and dashes are made through the bar like a herd of rabbits would make as they run from a predator.

"Run!"

"Hide!"

"Which one?!"

Once my vision un-blurs, I find a group of three fillies. A yellow pony underneath a table, a white one in the middle of the room staring at me, and just getting a glimpse of a small orange pony dashing behind the counter. Now what the hell is this? Why are there three fillies in the bar? In the dark?

"What are you three doing in here?" After a moment, the orange pony defeatidly walks out from behind the counter as she realizes she isn't hiding from anyone and they stand together, quiet. They're just little kids, really little. I remember when I was young. I broke into my sisters room and messed up her bed like a mysterious villain, but I never broke into a bar! "I guess I should just go tell your parents..."

"No!" they shout in unison, their prepubescent voices voices making a terrible shriek when done together. I don't even know their names, but they're young. How would they know that?

"Mhm...So you mind telling me what you three are doing in here?" I try to be stern and all, but I look like I'm acting more than actually trying. And I'm not a good actor at all.

"We're trying to be ninjas..." The yellow one mutters with yet another accent, one reminding me of Applejack's. Huh...That's a coincidence.

"Ninjas? I don't remember thievery being part of the job description." I have no idea what being a ninja is about, or even if it is a job, but I know for sure these three don't know either. And they didn't steal anything, but why else would they break in? To hide for the whole day without me noticing? Sure that's sneaky, but it doesn't accomplish anything.

"We weren't gonna steal anythin', we swear!" The accented filly quickly pleas, while another chimes in,

"Yeah! We're just trying to get our cutie marks!"

Oh...Cutie marks? That put me back. Cutie marks...So they don't have theirs either? That strikes so many emotions and memories in me I can't even focus on one. My parents, school, college, last job, hurt, hate, redemption, empathy, glory; all of that passing through my head like it's a blender.

"Uhm...Mister?" One of them speaks up, moving a little closer with her head perched higher to look at me.

I didn't even realize I was spacing out. Shaking my head very lightly, I smile down at them with a sigh. "Alright girls...You can get your cutie marks somewhere else, cause today...You got caught." Trying to be as sarcastic and humorous as I can, I put my hooves across my chest and tilt my head high. When I do, theirs drops low.

"Sorry..." They mutter together and begin to walk away. Man...Not much more depressing than three depressed fillies walking away because you told them to leave.

Before I speak, I sigh loudly and gesture them to stop. "Alright, alright...You can stay for a little while, but when I say go, you go." I look at each of them as I speak, like a security camera, or interrogator.

Their faces glow and they all jump up and down, grinning widely. "Thank you!" It's like they're telekinetic; they say so much in perfect unison it's kind of creepy. Or maybe they say the same things so much, like thank you and sorry that they've kind of gotten used to the timing. That's also worrying!

I make my way past them and behind the counter once again, while they look around the bar, now studying it in new light.

"Glad you can see what you're looking at now?" I nonchalantly ask as I pull out my personal cup and a new wash cloth and start scrubbing. It got dirty over night...Excellent, now it looks like I'm actually making use of my time.

"Yeah! this place is so cool..." The orange filly says with saucer eyes as she looks at some of the large painting over the walls ad at some of the colored lights.

"Do you work here?" The little white one asks, spinning around.

Well obviously, but I can't tell them what I do. "Well sure! I'm the guardsman; I make sure little fillies like yourselves don't come in and ruin the place. If ya do, you get in biiiiiiiiiiiig trouble!" I give a sly grin, mostly to myself for my childish work. They all believe it though and gulp down their wallows.

"Golly...Wh-...what's your name mister?" The small yellow one tilts her head as she asks the same question I've been asked more ties in 24 hours than in my whole life.

"Mr. B." I'm really getting used to saying that on command now. Am I really just that interesting that ponies ask my name five minutes after meeting me? I hope not, because that'd drop my standards of living. "What are yours?" I put my hooves on the counter and lean forward, hoping they all don't shout it together like everything else.

They get together in a line each side to side, the yellow one to my left, then the orange one, and the white filly at the right. The girls at the ends lift up their hooves and shout one after the other, "I'm Sweetie Bell!" Then, "I'm Applebloom!" Finally, "I'm Scootaloo!" They drop their hoofs and give big toothy smiles.

Well that was needlessly over the top, but I give a clap none the less and smile. For a moment, I wonder just how I'm able to clap...

"and we're the Cutie Mark Crusaders!" They shout together, once again in perfect unison.

So they search for cutie marks? I thought I was an odd ball when I was a kid, but that takes the cake. "So what does it mean to be a 'Cutie Mark Crusader'?" I really am curious cause it can mean a lot of things, and I have time to kill, so this is a perfect time waster until they have to go.

"We have a clubhouse!" Scootaloo yells out tenaciously.

"We were in the papers!" Follows in tune Sweetie Bell.

"and we..Uhh..uhh...Do cool stuff!" Awkwardly chimes Applebloom.

Yep...I remember when I was young like them. Didn't even know how to answer a question without bragging about something. "Well that's all really fascinating, but what does it mean to be a crusader of cutie marks? Do you just...Go out and look for them, or what?" I ask as slowly as I can, dragging this out.

"Oh!" Begins Applebloom, "We do stuff for cutie marks!"

Scootaloo quickly corrects her with a try-hard cool voice, "What she means is...We are on a quest for our cutie marks!" She gives a big dub grin while Applebloom glares at her.

Now that, I definitely can relate to. It seems there's lot's of ponies out there that pursued bravely for their marks, doing whatever, even being a ninja. That's a really depressing thougt that these three share a lot of my sorrow. Maybe they don't need to go yet...

"Why are you little fillies doing that? They're just marks." I say blankly, shrugging when I say 'Marks'.

They gasp, pushing their heads together over dramatically. "Just marks?!" Sweetie Bell slithers out with her gasp.

"They're only the most important part of any pony! It shows what their super special talent is!"Blasts Applebloom, once again yelling every line.

"And they look really cool!" Adds Scootaloo with a big grin.

Most important part? Such bullshit...I don't need a little mark on my flank to tell me what I'm good at, or for any pony to tell me what I'm qualified for. I'm tempted to go off on a rant right then and there, but I hold myself down. they're young, they wouldn't know. But...Perhaps I could show them a little something?

"Cool huh? Want to see something cool?" I ask, raising an eyebrow for emphasis on 'cool'.

They all shake their heads together without skipping a bit.

It would be pretty funny to do something unexpected, like tell them to leave. It'd be funny for me at least. I walk back around the counter and once I do, I turn myself to the side, motioning to my flank. My blank flank.

They each gasp, one after the other they like it was choreographed. "You don't have yer' cutie mark!" Applebloom blurts out to the world. The other two stay silent as Applebloom says all there was needed. I don't have my mark either.

"See? You don't need your 'cutie mark' to be somepony." I say that, but I'm nobody. Just a schmuck bar tender that's trying to be philosophical to a trio of fillies.

They all look at me like I'm a super pony though, their eyes wide, and mouths agape. "You should join the cutie mark crusaders!" Suggests Applebloom, to which I immediately shake my head. Her face, along with the other two, dim in excitement. "Why not?" Sweetie Bell asks, pouting her lips.

That's just not my style..I've gone through that phase a long time ago. I know it's just a kids thing, but still. Maybe I could just agree and move on with it without really having to do anything. "I don't need mine." Good..Maybe now they'll let it go. Who am I kidding, they're kids. Little tenacious fillies with fire in their hearts, they aren't going to stop.

"You don't need yours?!" Questions Scootaloo, more curious than surprised.

Hmm...I probably don't need to tell them anything more than a 'Yes', but there's something in me that is just pushing me to tell them my reasoning. Why I don't believe in the whole 'cutie marks' thing, and why it agitates me so much. Yeah...I think I'll do that. "Do you fillies want to hear a story?" I should have said, 'Alright, storytime!' just to be ironic.

They each jump up and plop down right in front of me, beaming at my face as they listen intently.

Kids...Well, here we go. "I was much like you three at one point in time. when I was younger, yeah, but I can tell you girls got things with more optimism. I..Was alone. Maybe that's why you are more successful than me? Anyways, I got a lot of bad rep in school for it. Everyone else had theirs...Hoola hoops, flying, writing, creating, all of that. I had none of it. I have none of it. and I don't want it." I pause for a moment, letting my words sink in. "I was trying to get a job from a..." I can't tell them who he really was, they won't understand. They're too young. "Pony, and you know what the difference between a letter in your mail of approval and failure is?" I look at them, getting a little too into it. I have to calm down, they are just kids.."The fact your competition has a mark for it and you don't." I stare glumly at the ground, closing my eyes before I continue. "Can you tell me what a pony with a cutie mark does better than one who doesn't? I guarantee you that if I practiced hard enough at playing Poker, I'd be better than somepony with a Poker cutie mark!" My eyes get a little watery; I did not plan for that...They see it too, so I take a moment to collect myself. It's like I'm just pouring out my inner demons, not realizing I'm just talking to fillies. Little innocent fillies..."My point is: Experience over natural ability." I give a final sigh, looking at each of their faces.

Scootaloo just stares at me, blinking a couple times before ducking her head. Sweetie Bell does the same, but instead keeps looking at me. Her eyes looks hurt, full of empathy, or sympathy. I don't know the difference at this point. Applebloom is just looking at the ground, I'm even able to see her eyes. It's like three different similar reactions. Scootaloo stares, then looks away. Sweetie Bell just stares. And Applebloom just looks away. Really odd...

Who am I to say all this to a couple of little fillies? they didn't deserve any bit of that. "I'm sorry..." I rub a hoof against my face, wiping off the already dried couple of tears.

The only one to respond, Sweetie Bell, mutters an "It's okay..." then she too, is looking at the floor. Now things have come full circle.

Alright...I guess I have to do it. "I'll..." I dread the very word I'm about to speak..."be a Cutie Mark Crusader." I bow my head in defeat and sigh. What I didn't see is each of their heads shoot up with beaming faces and immediately surround me. Wonderful.

"Yay!! Yur gon' be a cutie mark crusader, really?!" Applebloom excitedly asks, hopping up and down. That reminds me of that pink mare that bounced unnaturally everywhere.

"Yes...I am." I grimly respond, raising an eyebrow as they all yell out,

"Yes!!" Again, do they just plan their lines out or something?

Oh Cellestia, what have I gotten myself into? "Yes, yes...Relax, Please." I rub a hoof on my head, beginning to get a headache. Now that is just wonderful. Having to tend bar with a headache is probably the worst thing ever. Then I remember that I have all day too. Well shit.

They each stop bouncing, Scootaloo taking a liberty of just one extra. "Now we have four! this is so cool..." She barely contains her excitement as she rubs her hooves together mischeviously.

"Ya! Now we're the four musketeers!" Applebloom says, bringing her hoof up to mine for a bump. I don't want to correct the little filly, so I just lightly tap my hoof on hers and smile.

"So...What do I do as a Crusader?" I can guess already, but I'm just blowing time at this point. I really want a drink myself.

They all stand there for a moment in silence, until finally Sweetie Bell breaks it. "You go on an adventure to find your cutie mark!" She yells out excitedly.

Oh that's nice, definitely not going for that. "Oooh..That's what I do? Well, how about I try and get mine here? You know, as guard duty...For little fillies, like yourselves?" I grin a bit, cocking an eyebrow evilly.

They all jump, huddling together. "Oh shucks..." Applebloom mutters.

Well, that got it done pretty easy. "Relax...I'll be an undercover Crusader. That sound good?" Sounds pretty stupid to me, but anything that deals with a spy to kids is about the coolest thing ever.

Their eyes glow as they see their opportunity here and nod quickly, this time nod in unison.

"Alright then girls, run along. I'm sure there's many other ways to get your cutie marks than being rascals." Rascals...what the hell kind of name as that? My mom called me it a lot, but I don't even know what it means!

"Okay!" they chant together before unsurprisingly running off together, scurrying out the bar.

Finally...Gone. Making my way behind the bar, I put my own personal cup to good use and pour myself some wine. If I wanted to forget, I wouldn't got some Moonshine, but I'd rather get into a good mood. So thus, wine. I'm no experienced drinker or anything, I just know some things. Have to thank my father for that.

While I'm drinking down a cup of some good, classic wine, something is always ringing in  my head. 'Cutie mark' Most idiotic name for a little sticker on your ass you could give. Who the hell am I anyway? A bar tender? Yeah, sure. A friend? I can be, I guess. I've already shown to some young mares I can be a good pony. Or was I showing myself...? Is this all backwards, and really I am the one being given advice? That whole unnecessary speech was really made so I could come to an understanding? But...What? What the hell am I looking for? What's my mark? It's not bar tending, it's not talking, it's not magic, it's not heroism, it's not writing. If I would have a mark, it'd be being an idiot because I've wasted so much time all my damn life searching for something that I'll never need.

I take another sip of my wine and try to slow my breathing. If I'm going to be tending bar with four hours of sleep going for me and just going through a rough memory, I definitely need a little something in me. I don't like to find comfort in drinking, but wine'll have to do.

The wine has a slightly different effect on me though as I begin to go back...Back to a time when I was young, out going, ready, and willing to do anything. When I was with my father...

--

"Dad!" I storm into my father's office where he is coincidentally having a talk with his new partner, Tanis.

"Yes, Bud?" His voice is particularly annoyed as he takes his eyes from Tanis and plants them on me.

"Why did you do this?" I ask, demanding an explanation with less anger and more shock.

"Because Tanis is more qualified." My father nonchalantly responds.

"More qualified?!" I ask, the shock gone and fully suppressed by my anger.

"Yes...?" He says, holding his hoof out as if he has a plate in it where I'm meant to put my words on.

"I've got a degree in Business & Trade! and I'm your son!" I cry out, smashing my hoof on the ground. I don't even pay attention to Tanis who is just sitting there like this is a daily occurrence.

"He is a very intelligent young colt and I'm not about to give you an advantage because you're my son."

Without letting another word come out of his mouth, I burst out, pointing a hoof accusingly as I yell, "No, fuck you! You think because he has a stupid ass mark on his flank that he will do infinitely better than anyone else?! Screw that! I know you don't like me and never will, so you can go rot like the old crackpot you are."

They booth stay quiet, and I don't even look at their faces as I walk back to the large double doors. Before I leave however, I tone my voice down to a much more serious octave. "You are not my father."