Twilight Sparkle Requires Belly Rubs

"Oh you have got to be kidding me!" I cried as I peered into the engine. The coolant pipes could be fixed easily, the battery could be replaced in a day, however the engine's overheating warping the pistons rendered the engine completely useless.

"Jesus." Alexander grunted, shutting the hood gently in case something else on my pile of junk wanted to fall off. "I've seen nothing like it before Atlas. I can fix it, though it will take some time."

I leaned up against the wall, the cool stone pressing on my back. I waited for a while before speaking, "How long Alexander?" I said, putting my hands into my pockets.

"About a week even if I can find the parts, from what I saw in there the engine is some sort of Frankenstein creation. I counted seven different car brands inside of that engine Atlas, where the hell did your friend get this thing?"

"He told me that he won it in a poker game from a pretty shady guy at the bar."

"Did he tell you anything about this guy in particular?" Alexander said, moving over to an ordering manual to record what he needed.

"Well he was pretty drunk when he got back, all he could talk about the car he won from this sucker at poker. The only thing else that he mentioned was that he had some weird tattoos on his arms, most of them looked like regular biker ink, but one really caught his eye, it was a car split in half bleeding oil."

I jumped as Alexander's booming laugh echoed throughout the garage. As i looked over at him doubling over I wondered what the hell just happened. Alexander was normally a straight forward man who usually had no time for jokes. Yet now here he was, needing a chair to sit on since he was laughing so hard. "What's so funny?" I asked mildly annoyed at the situation.

Alexander lent back in the chair and wiped the sweat that had beaded on his brow. "Well Atlas," he said, wheezing from lack of air, "it seems that your friend won a Chopper Car."

"Chopper Car?" I asked, "What the hell is that?"

"Well," Alexander continued, "that "sucker" that lost his car in a damn poker game wanted to get rid of it. When a chop shop wants to clear out, much like the one that was busted a couple of weeks ago, they want to get rid of as much incriminating evidence as possible. So they lump it all into one car not caring even if it runs or not. Then they find the first bastard they can offload it on, and just like that most evidence connecting them to most of their crimes is gone. Your friend was their bastard,"

"And when he realized what he got," I continued, "I was his bastard. Son of a bitch!" I yelled, punching the stone wall, which only resulted in some scratched knuckles.

"Do you still want me to fix it up?" Alexander asked standing from his chair, walking in front of me.

"Sure, I don't have anywhere else to travel to since Arcadia Inc. rejected my resume.," I paused for a moment before speaking again, "Also Anthony..."

"Hmmm?" he questioned.

"I didn't know about any of this Chopper car stuff, but since your doing so much extra work on my behalf, there's no way that I can't just not pay..." I stopped as he rested his hand on my shoulder.

"Don't worry about it Atlas," he said, a smile working its way over his face, "you've got the world on your shoulders, its not my job to pile on anything else. How about I have Bob drive you back to your apartment, you shouldn't have to walk back in this terrible weather."

"Thanks Alexander." I said, walking out of the garage to the parking lot where the tow truck was. I climbed in and while waiting for Bob I pulled out my phone to check if I had missed anything, a message, a call, anything from Arcadia or any of the other jobs that I had applied to, nothing. I slumped back into the seat, but as I was about to close my eyes the default ringtone came pouring through the speakerphone. Popping my head from its resting place, I tapped the green phone icon and put it up to my ear. "Hello, Atlas Calihan speaking," I stopped my normal introduction at the sound of static. "Hello?" I asked again, "Is someone there? Hello?" The static continued, but as I was about to pull it away from my ear the static cleared slightly and I could hear snippets of sound.

"Hello.... Calihan.... offering...... proposal...."

"Speak up!" I cried, "I can barely hear you. If you are offering a job to me say something!"

The static overtook the voice for a second and I almost hung up again yet the voice replied. "Indeed.... proposal accepted? Pay.... wanted?

It was asking me if I wanted a job! "Yes, yes!" I said, tears on the verge of release, "If you are offering a job I accept!"

"Confirmed..... meet..... time.... set...." the static was getting louder and louder, drowning the words in a sea of fuzzy sound. I decided to hang up and call later when I reached my apartment. I closed the phone, severing the contact just as Bob was climbing into the truck. He looked over at me, and not asking any questions about why I was nearly crying, he started the engine and pulled out of the lot.

One hour later Bob parked the truck in front of the complex doorstep, and I opened the door and climbed out onto the barren sidewalk. No one in their right mind would be out while the wind felt like it was freezing your blood through your clothes. Bob tipped his baseball cap to me as a sign of good luck and gunned back into the street. I opened the door and was greeted with the warm embrace of the indoors. I waved at the supervisor, Ms. Aberdeen as I walked past the front desk and made my way back to my room. I cracked opened the shades just enough to let thin rays of sunlight permeate and dissipate the shade. I had tried to keep the place clean, yet with everything that had been going on I wasn't able to keep up with a somewhat overwhelming tide of untidiness. I didn't bother to take off my tux as I flopped on my four poster bed, the wooden supports creaking under the weight of my body and the cracked bedpost's age. I flipped open my phone and flicked through the menus until I was staring at the "Return Call" option, slowly and mockingly flickering at me.

I took a deep breath and clicked the button and placed the phone up against my ear again. I quickly decided against laying down for my first phone interview, and regrettably hoisted myself up, trotting around on the cream colored carpet. As the dial kept ringing I looked on the wall behind my desk and saw a framed piece of paper. "Congratulations Atlas Calihan" it read, "for obtaining a Masters degree in Massage Therapy!" I huffed at the worn document.

"Lot of good its done me now hunh?" I sneered to no one in particular. I had taken the class because I thought there would be more job positions open for an apple cheeked senior fresh from college. Much to my disappointment there was nothing in-state, and so I was left high and dry, no job, and a Masters in something that I thought I loved. I shocked back to attention though as the dial tone clicked and a voice spoke to me. I almost introduced myself, but something was very off. The voice sounded different I was certain, so I shut up and listened, my heart growing as frozen as the winds outside with every word.

"The number that you have dialed is no longer in service," told a robotic female voice, "please make sure that the number is correct and try again. Have a good day."

My mouth fell open at the last words, my heart sank so far that I swore I could feel it beating into my guts. "No!" I cried "No!" I re-dialed again, same result. I shivered not from the cold, but from shock. I slumped back onto the cotton comforter again. Of course, there was never any chance that I was that lucky, no chance that when I was at my lowest point someone would drop a sack of gold in my lap. I stared up at the white drywall ceiling, eyes tearing up, closing the phone gingerly and placing it back into my jacket pocket. My neck twinged suddenly and a sting of pain ran up my neck. "Ow!" I cried, slapping my neck, I sighed and lowered my hand. Just another thing to add to the pile of pain that was my life.

My name really rang true now, Atlas the titan, titled with holding the world on his shoulders lest he be crushed under its weight, and oh Lord did the world feel heavy now. I spread out my arms to a eagle position, my legs hanging off the edge of the bed. Today's excursion had left me exhausted and it wasn't even two o'clock yet. I sighed, "Screw it." I said as my eyes slowly closed, "tomorrow is a new day." and I closed my eyes, falling into a deep sleep.