Super Colt: The Story of a Background Pony

Work Title: Story of a Background Pony or The Adventures of Supercolt

Chapter 1

By every apparent indication, it was to be a day like any other day. As it had always been, Caramel Apple had been awakened by the call of his rooster, Cluck. As it had always been, he got out of bed, did his mane, went downstairs and ate his breakfast. There was nothing special about today. Just like there’s nothing special about me, he thought, solemnly. It was true. While poor Caramel tried his best at life, the best never seemed to come to him. Just the other day, the day of Winter Wrap-up, he’d been entrusted with something as minor as carrying the grass seeds, and he couldn’t even do THAT right. He was, in short, a failure. He would never stop wanting more.

Presently, Caramel was going back upstairs to brush his teeth and find his saddlebag. Before he began brushing, he said to himself something he said to himself every morning in the mirror:

“Who knows, Caramel? Today might be your day.” He used to say it with confidence, but lately, he’d giggle after saying it. It being his day no longer seemed possible. The daily “Who knows?” was now all he had left of his once strong and unquenchable ambition. Having finished brushing his teeth, he went back into his room to look retrieve his saddle bag, which contained important documents for work. He kept it under the side table next to his bed. He trotted back downstairs, opened the door, walked outside, and closed it behind him.

Once again, there didn’t seem to be anything special about this day. All was as usual. He proceeded to turn in the direction of his workplace, but bumped right into somepony. The impact knocked him on his back and caused his saddle bag to pop open, spilling most of his work documents. The other pony, by contrast, seemed utterly unaffected by the collision, physically or emotionally. He was a rather big fellow, and he just walked right on by, with not so much as a “sorry”, thinking to himself how rude it was of Caramel to run into him. There was a time when this sort of thing would have made Caramel very cross, but at this point in his pathetic life, he’d gotten used to this sort of thing. He hustled to pick up all his documents, shove them back into his saddle bag, close it, and continue walking. The incident had cost him valuable time, and he had now had to walk slightly faster if there was to be any hope of getting to work on time.

As had become routine, incidents like this seemed to just keep on happening for the entire walk, to the point where he was forced to run as fast as he could for the final stretch. “Come on, come on, come on...” he yelled to himself while running. Despite his best efforts, he could not escape the inevitable conclusion; he was late to work. This never ceased to disappoint him, but it was nothing out of the ordinary. His life was not good. He worked at the Ponyville Express, the sole newspaper in Ponyville which wasn’t the school paper, which nopony cared about. Not that many more people cared about the Ponyville Express, but it was a job. There was a time when Caramel’s boss, Ink Murdoch, would have been infuriated at this tardiness, but he’d become used to it over the years. “Glad you decided to show up today, Caramel,” he said, quite insincerely. “I’m sorry, Chief,”, replied Caramel, “I’m trying to get here on time, I really am-”

“Shut up,” interrupted Murdoch. “I want to talk to you for a minute in my office.” Caramel sighed. “Yes, sir,” he said. He proceeded to follow Murdoch into his office. Murdoch sat down at his desk. There was another chair in the room, but he didn’t ask Caramel to take a seat, so he didn’t. “Listen, Kid,” said Murdoch, “I know you’re trying, but that’s not enough. I can’t have you late to work every day like this.”

“I know, Chief, and I-”

“Shut up.” Caramel obliged.

“Kid, I’ll give you one more chance. But if you’re ever late again, I’m sorry, but I’m gonna have to let you go.”

“Thank-you, Chief,” said Caramel, “it won’t happen again.”

“It’d better not.” Murdoch turned around in his swivel chair, so that his back was now to Caramel. “Now, get to work, assuming you remember where your cubicle is.”

“Yes, sir,” said Caramel, trying to hide the annoyance in his voice. He backed out of the office and proceeded to his cubicle and set to work.

As he labored tirelessly at his desk, he thought of someone who used to work with him. Her name was Film Reel. She never seemed to notice that he existed, but he’d spent every minute of every work day noticing her. She was beautiful. She was also highly successful. While he remained at his dead-end job, she’d moved on first to another paper in Canterlot, and then to an on-air channel. She’d never known he’d existed, but he was so proud of her. It was a long while before he stopped daydreaming and got back to work.

It had been a long day, but Caramel was finally back in his bedroom. It wasn’t even dark out yet, but he was getting ready for bed nevertheless, because he REALLY needed the sleep. It was only around 5:15 PM, but it felt like 1:00 in the morning. He was simply THAT tired. The day, like most others, had dragged on and on by, as though it would never end. This was because he wanted more than anything for it to end. First there was being late to work, then there was the threat of losing his job, then there was an extremely long, extremely unsatisfying work day.

He got the job done, but it was an insidiously boring job. The Express faced the same problem as the local school paper, the Foal Free Press; nothing particularly interesting every really happened in Ponyville. Whenever something did, the story ALWAYS went to one of his coworkers rather than himself. Lady Luck never quite cared for him.

The walk home had been just as unfriendly as the walk to work. Incidents like the one from that morning happened so often on both walks that he was beginning to wonder if ponies might be going out of their way to run into him and put a damper in his already not particularly high spirits.

But none of that mattered now. It was finally time for bed now, finally time to put the troubles of the day behind him and escape to the land of rest.