Chapter 23
Musings of a Mad Newt

“Personal journal entry number, uh… Ah, fuck it, nobody’s ever going to read this anyway,” I muttered as I gingerly squeezed the bloody water from my mop, taking a brief moment to gaze around the ruined remains of the bar, a veritable lake of blood and viscera stared back. “Bastards.”

Soaking the mop head in fresh water I continued with my monotonous task, scrubbing at the congealing mess with my usual dogged determination. “On the off chance I’m wrong though, and any of you ponies actually survive to find these notes I have but one nibblet of useful information for you; find Diamond Tiara, kill her, it’s all her fault... Seriously”

The pink flamingo feather faithfully scribing down my every muse took pause at these words, the little black book below it lowering slightly. “What? Oh, come on someone needs to take the blame.”

Good help is always so hard to find…

Whilst slinging the mop over my shoulder I grabbed the bucket of sludgy water and headed for the kitchen, the need to replenish the necessary cleaning supplies only serving to darken my already deteriorating mood. Hookah Up would never be the same.

I took pause as I passed the booths near the back, the slaughtered Masters right where Alex had left them. “That son of a bitch actually did it, thought for sure I’d rounded up enough. Crap, I owe Patches five bits…”

As much as I hate to admit it, Patches was right. After seeing him fight here it has become obvious that I stopped observing Alex much too early, he’s far stronger a pony than I gave him credit. Perhaps, mine will prove useful someday as well…

After entering the kitchen I headed for the sink in the back, trying but eventually failing to suppress a smile as I took in the sight of the gleaming space. This room had been spared the worst of the fighting, it was the damn vamps, they had trashed the place during their brief stay and I had spared no effort in its restoration, just as I would with the rest of the place.

Vamps are NOT housebroken…

I let out a sigh of satisfaction as I dumped my bucket of grisly grime down the drain before turning the faucet to hot and waited as the steaming liquid filled the container. “Alex Rustwing, I suppose that’s a name we will all be hearing a lot in the future, either in the great halls of the legendary, or echoing faintly through the dark voids, lost and forgotten amongst the souls of a dead world. Either way, he has my attention. And you would be remiss to look away now.”

After shutting off the tap of the me-sized sink I turned to once again inspect my handiwork, nodding in approval as I stared at the gleaming appliances and stacks of cookware. Indeed, Alex had turned out better than I’d hoped. Obsidian might have a few surprises coming his way in the near future if this keeps up.

A smile tugged at the corners of my mouth as the clouds of steam from the sink wafted forward, obscuring me from the view of the eyes watching from above, always there and ever vigilant, lest I get out of hand.

“Well, perhaps it’s time we took things up a notch…”

Author's Note

Here's the first chapter involving a perspective swap! I hope you enjoy it as Dollars has been wanting to include one for quite some time now. This is all written by him with a few edits from me, the next chapter will be out SOON I promise!

-Jake