Prologue: My Autobiography, Pre-Ponyville
So...where to begin? Hmm...there's so much I could say. I mean, my life has just been kind of...everywhere. That makes my life sound depressing though, like there's been no constants at all in my life. That's not entirely true. Yeah, my life has been pretty insane, and really nothing has been same for a long time now, but it's not depressing; not depressing at all. I think I should really explain though....
Ok, so I was born into a moderately wealthy family who lived on the West Side of Manehatten, just like thousands of other young colts at the time. I lived there my whole life, mostly. I went to school there, hung out with my friends there, had my first kiss there...and some other stuff that I'm not entirely proud of.
But anyway, that all changed on a dark summer night. It was just a normal old night: I had been out with my friends after a long day of work at my dad's retail store (where I proudly worked as a sales clerk). We were out at local pub, drinking a few beers (it was a weekday, so we couldn't go all out like on weekends) when it happened. Something that changed all our lives forever.
It was about nine p.m. when it happened. A stallion walked into the bar, but he didn't look entirely like a normal stallion. He was an earth pony, dressed in what appeared to be a pinstripe suit, sunglasses, and a hat. He was also carrying a briefcase in his mouth. It was suspicious from the beginning. The bartender saw him immediately, nodding upon his arrival, and disappeared quickly behind the bar, a serious look appearing on his face.
The manager of the bar (whose name I cannot reveal, due to legal reasons) emerged a few tense minutes later, also with a stern expression. He gave a curt nod to the strange pony as well, and proceeded to lead him and the bartender to a vacant table in the corner.
Most ponies in the pub paid no attention to the strange meeting that was taking place, but I had to watch. I mean, all my friends were off talking to mares they were trying to take home that night, so I had nothing better to do.
The three ponies sat talking for twenty minutes and still nothing out of the ordinary happened. I was just beginning to lose interest, thinking it was just some business meeting, when it happened:
The strange pony sprung up and threw his chair down. He ran into the back, quickly followed by the bartender and the manager, who were both clearly flustered by what had happened. The two burst through the door just as a large crash came from the back room, which had clearly sounded like a large number of glasses had been thrown to the ground.
I took a look around the pub, and I couldn't believe my eyes. No pony, no pony in the entire pub had heard the crash. Everypony was still freely enjoying their evening, as if nothing at all had happened.
I'm not entirely sure what made me do it. Realistically, I should've just sat on my bar stool, finished my beer and walked out. But some crazy voice in my head said: You should go check on that. Not only was I crazy to even think that, but I had to be even crazier to listen to myself.
I slowly rose from seat and took another long look around the room. Everypony was still caught up in their drinks and potential mares/stallions for that night. I sat my drink down and slowly walked towards the edge of the bar. Still, no pony saw me. I walked towards the door leading to the back, knees shaking. I took one last look back, still clear, and plunged through the door.
The sight inside was shocking. Broken glass coated the floor, giving it an eerie shine. The briefcase that the strange pony had been carrying was laying on the floor just inside the door, ajar, but empty. Across the room, stood the strange stallion with a bloody sword in mouth. Below him lay the crumpled bodies of the manager and the bartender, both were very still and coated with blood.
I stood, mouth agape in silent scream as I looked at the horrific scene. I took a slow step forward, and my hoof crunched on the broken glass covering the floor. The strange stallion turned to face me, his eyes gleaming.
He advanced on me, brandishing the sword like a true master. I panicked and ran back out the door.
I'm not quite sure how many tables I knocked over, drinks I spilled, or how many ponies I pissed off on the way out, but all I know is that I made it out of there alive, which, honestly, is all that matters to me.
Now, I had never run through the streets of Manehatten at night (that I can remember. Like I said, I've done some stuff I'm not proud to admit), but I seemed to find my way to the police station no problem. I burst through the doors of the building and told the mare at the front desk everything that had happened. She sent me through the back and I told the police the exact same story.
What happened the week following the murders, I can't be entirely sure of really. I can't remember anything that happened, so I've been forced to rely on what others have told me happened. I think I'm just repressing the memory of it happening or something like that, because everything I've heard seems like stuff i would do, I just don't remember doing it.
So yeah, as the story goes I went home and slept that night (which I highly doubt I actually slept). I missed work everyday that week, spending day and night at the police station trying to identify the stallion who committed the murders. The cops were...well...less than helpful in the investigation. During our line-up sessions, I'm pretty sure they gave up after the fifth try (it consisted of two children, an elderly stallion, and even my own father), appearing to just pick up the first few ponies they saw on the street.
However, there was one good thing that came from the investigations: they found who the strange stallion was working for. For years, Manehatten had been dealing with mafia problems, and the stallion matched the perfect description of a few of the mafia hitmen.
That didn't make me feel any better. So now, not only had I witnessed a murder, but now the mafia was sure to be after me for witnessing said murder.
So, naturally, the police did the most rational thing possible: they relocated me.
I started in Las Pegasus. Another big city, where I would feel at home, more or less. Plus, how could I complain about all the casinos and night clubs so close to my house? It was the perfect place: the perfect city to get lost in; the mafia would never find me there.
It took him two months to find me. One day there was a knock on the door to my house (provided by the relocation services), and it turned out to be the hitman who had killed the two stallions at the bar.
So I ran, again.
Next was Canterlot. Yeah, that was going to be it, for sure. No one would dare attack anypony with Princess Celestia looking over the city.
For a while I thought that theory was correct, but he showed up after four months.
Appleooza was next. Only lasted three weeks there.
And so that trend continued...Vanhoover, Fillydelphia, Baltimare...it really didn't matter where I went, he would always find me in just a couple months at the most.
So, the relocation service did what they called Plan B: they used magic and changed everything about me. My once green coat was now a nice, soft, blue, and my gray mane was changed to white. Needless to say I was happy with the improvements. Of course, I was still an earth pony, but hey, what can you do?
Figuring the hitman would be watching most other cities still, the relocation services dropped me off in the last available place in all of Equestria: Ponyville, somewhere that I could start my wonderful, new life...
Author's Note
This should be the only chapter with anything close to gore. Sorry if you weren't expecting it.
Chapter One: A Nice Welcome
I stepped off the train, my hooves touching the hard wood that covered the ground at the Ponyville Train Station. During my constant relocation, I'd seen plenty of train stations, and Ponyville's was...well....okay, I guess. Sure, everypony there was extremely nice and helpful as I pulled all my numerous bags off the train, but the station itself was just alright. It was a bit dilapidated, loose floor boards here and there, and it was a small station, but all and all it was acceptable.
I got into my small saddle bags and pulled out a small piece of paper, containing the instructions for my new life in Ponyville. I had grown used to this by now. Every time I came to a new town, I would get a new address, a new job, a new alias, et cetera, et cetera.
The small paper I retrieved from my bag was much smaller than any other paper I had received from the agency. It read
Ponyville
Name: Norman
Job: Baker
Home Address: 456 West Mane Street
I put the paper back in my bag and sighed. I always seemed to end up on a street that had some bad pun about pony anatomy. Plus my name was Norman this time...I was hoping for something much cooler. Better than last time though, I thought happily, sure can't be worse than Periwinkle, which was clearly a feminine name (and my coat wasn't even that color...I don't know what these people are thinking half the time when they give me new names...)
The train station faded away as I began to make my way through the town, slowly due to my number of bags. The town was actually much nicer than I had thought it would be. The slightly run down train station had given me the wrong impression of the town itself. The houses here were so nice and colorful, and the ponies in the actual town were even more helpful than those at the train station. I got at least a dozen offers for help with my bags, which I kindly declined (I liked to carry my own bags, for whatever reason).
My new house sat about half way down Mane Street, which was the street that cut straight through the middle of the small town. It was small house, more of a cottage than anything. The outside was just so...quaint. The small thatched room went well with the white washed outer walls. I loved it right away.
I heaved my bags inside the house and fell in love with the house even more. It was small, very small in fact, but it was great none the less. The front door lead into a small living/dining room, which was clearly the largest room in the cottage. There was a large window on the front wall. The room also housed a small couch and a few chairs here and there on one side of the room, but was empty other than that. On the other side sat what appeared to be a very small kitchen.
Through a door to the right was a bedroom with a bed large enough for only one pony. I threw my bags into the room and continued to explore what was left to see of the new house. I left the bedroom and scanned the room, finding a small door just to my right, which led to the bathroom, which was also quite small.
So, all in all, the house was...well...small, as I've made clear, but I loved it, more than anything before it. For once in my relocation life, I felt like I was home.
I walked back over to the bedroom and opened my bags, staring at my few belongings. I had a couple things from my home in Manehatten, but other than that everything I owned was from my random adventures throughout Equestria. I pulled a casino chip out of the bag, one I had stolen from my first night in Las Pegasus...that was truly a great night, even if it did result in a bit of...intervention.
I moved my bags back out to the living room, where I could draw the blinds and look out the window and watch the variously colored ponies of Ponyville go about their daily business. It was quite interesting really; I saw a gray pegasus fly on an uneven course as she delivered mail to the various houses (including mine, which I made a note to check on in a few minutes); a teal colored mare was walking side-by-side with a cream colored mare, who was clearly in disagreement with something that the teal mare was saying; there was a large red stallion dragging a cart full of apples, being chased around by a young, yellow, filly. I could go on like this for hours, of course, the town had so many things happening.
After fifteen minutes or so, I decided it was finally time to check the mail that the gray pony had brought for me. I opened my door and made my way down my sidewalk to the mailbox, which stood at the end. The sun was shining brighter now than had been earlier in the day, and it lit the town up so much more, reflecting the various colors of everypony.
I opened the mailbox and surprising amount of mail fell out. I somehow managed to bring it all back inside and threw all the letters on the table in the kitchen. I looked through them carefully, ensuring not to miss anything. Bill (already!)...letter from the mayor, welcoming me to Ponyville....a letter from somepony named Pinkie Pie saying she was "super-duper excited" to meet me....a letter from the relocation service, verifying my location...and...and something interesting.
I opened the final letter. It was a letter from my employer. Strange, I thought, normally I have to wait a while before I get some kind of job in my new city. I went for a month without a job before, because the relocation service had so much trouble finding me a job, so getting a job my first day was really a shock. Good shock or bad shock, I couldn't really be sure yet.
The letter was very short, and read:
Dear new employee,
You are expected to be at work at approximately 4 p.m. upon your first day of arriving in Ponyville. Our location is at the corner of Mane Street and Celestia Avenue.
See you soon,
Miss Derpy Hooves
A sudden rush ran through me as I read the time in the letter. 4 p.m. I took a glance at the clock. 3:45 p.m. I sighed deeply. Yep, I thought, here we go again.
So I ran. First to my room, grabbing the first tie i could find in my suitcase; I didn't even see what color it was. Next, I ran out the door, almost throwing it off its hinges. I was about halfway to the street before I realized I had forgotten to close it, and had to go back to ensure that it closed before I set off at a sprint again.
I raced through the streets of Ponyville, flying past all the various colors of ponies as fast as my legs would take me. Turns out that Celestia Avenue isn't that east to find, because it was about ten minutes before I even saw a sign for it, and it was still a half mile down the street.
I was so excited by the sign that I lost track of my surroundings and collided head on with a white mare who was walking in the opposite direction. She let out a slight "Oof!" as she hit the ground, and I called a quick "Sorry!" over my shoulder as I kept going. I'll make it up to her one day, I bet, I thought as I charged onward.
Four minutes later I was trotting in front of the store. Still full of adrenaline, I burst straight through the doors, insistent on not being late my first day. I glanced at the first clock on the wall that I saw. "Ha!" I couldn't help blurting out, "3:59! I'm on time!"
But as I looked around for the various reactions of the ponies in store, I noticed that the whole store was empty. Even the chairs had been placed on the tables and the floor was still wet from mopping in spots, meaning that it had been closed for a while.
There was a shuffling in the back and a pony that looked very similar to the gray mare that delivered my mail poked her head from behind the door leading to the back. "Actually," she said with a smile on her face, "that clock is five minutes slow. You're actually five minutes late."
"Dammit!" I yelled, then covered my mouth, forgetting where I was for a second. I offered an apologetic smile at the pegasus. "Sorry, didn't mean to use that kind of language on my first day."
The pegasus stepped out from behind the door, revealing the rest of her gray body. "Eh," she said with a shrug, "doesn't matter much to me when there aren't customers here. You can say whatever the hell you want when were closed. But as soon as customers show up, that's when you have to be careful." She walked over to me and offered her hoof to shake. "My names Derpy Hooves, but you can just call me Derpy" she said with a smile, one of her eyes going off center as she said this, "and I'm guessing you're Norman?"
"Yeah I am, nice to meet you," I replied, taking her hoof and shaking it. Then a thought occurred to me. "You can just call me Norm though."
"Alright Norm," she said, her eyes returning to center, "so, you're interested in working in the baking industry?"
I had been through this routine a number of times; the agency always submits my job application making it look as if I would be the most broken hearted stallion in the whole world if I didn't get the job. I had become half-way decent at acting, just because of this.
"Oh yeah," I replied, hoping the look on my face was convincing, "I've loved baking for a while, and I felt it was finally time to get into an actually bakery and start earning money by doing it."
I was shocked at her response. She giggled.
"What?" I asked in a too-harsh tone.
"Nothing," Derpy said with a smile and a slight shake of her head. "I can just tell you're lying. No one is actually that interested in being here at your age. No offense," she added quickly, noticing the slightly hurt look on my face, "it's just that ponies with a true passion for baking start here as fillies, and they're normally here for a few years."
"Oh," I replied with a smile of my own, "you're good. Most ponies buy it when I tell them I want a job because I have a passion for it."
"Guess I'm not like most ponies then, am I?" There was a certain in her voice. It almost sounded as if she being a flirty, but I pushed the idea out of my head as fast as I could. Why would my boss be flirting with me?
A silence followed Derpy's question. I used the moment to take in the scenery of the room. It was a classic ice cream parlor turned bakery. The floor was tiled, black and white, and it was covered in various booths and tables that looked as if they were from the classic Equestrian "swing" dance era. A long bar stood against the wall that Derpy had come from. This was clearly where the customers would order their food. The whole front of the store was a large window, which I had failed to notice during my rush to enter the store.
Derpy cleared her throat suddenly. "So," she said, more professionally this time, "you know how to take orders from customers and repeat them to the bakers?"
I felt an unintentional smirk cross my face as I thought back to my job as a waiter in Fillydelphia. "Yeah, I think I can handle that, no problem."
"Good. You would be surprised how many ponies actually can't..." A distraught look appeared on her face. Clearly a nerve had been struck.
"Well," I said quickly, trying to change the topic and get whatever was bothering Derpy off her mind, "is there any kind of training I need to do this?"
"Nope, you should be alright," she replied, the smile returning to her face. "So, what's today...Friday? Okay, I have workers for the rest of the weekend, so you don't need to show up 'til Monday. 9 a.m., ok?
"Alright," I said, returning her smile, "see you then Derpy."
"See you then, Norm," she said with a twinkle in her eye.
The rest of the day was relatively simple. I didn't do all that much, other than go out for a relaxing dinner at a small cafe just down the street from my cottage. It was good, just a grass sandwich and some cola. I went back to my house afterwards, reflecting on my day.
Wow, I thought happily, climbing into bed, this has definitely been the best first day ever. I think this is going to work out great. Between all the nice ponies here, my beautiful house, and my great job prospect with my amazing boss, I can't see any way this could go badly.
It was the greatest greeting I could've ever asked for. And, little did I know, I would be meeting somepony very important the next day.
