Chapters At the market road just leading up to Manehatten, one could see a black carrot farmer pull a cart-load of carrots towards the city. If one looked closely enough, they might notice the giant swarm of all-consuming vermin called parasprites who chased him as well.
“I’ve had it with these mutherfucking parasprites, on this mutherfucking cart!”
The parasprites ignored his remarks, and continued using the same strategy that they had used the past twenty minutes. They would fly up in the air to gain altitude, and then they would dive down and swallow a carrot or two in the descent, only to fly up again to repeat the whole thing.
“Fuck off, you little shits!”
By this point the swarm had grown three times in size. It’s not that they multiplied, it’s the fact that the scent of the farmer’s carrots had spread out across the entire area, causing parasprites to fly in close, searching for the delicate fruit.
“Quit eating my livelihood! Go for some delicate food instead, I have kids to feed!”
Unaware of the fact that his carrots were what the parasprites craved the most, the poor carrot farmer continued his long lasting gallop towards the city in the hopes that he might receive help, or that the parasprites might chase some other, more delicate food.
Little did he know however, that his carrots were the most delicate food that existed in all of Equestria.
“Bullshit!”
Uhh, yes they were. His carrots emitted a scent which would drive ponies mad as well as a taste which would dwarf every other food that the consumer had eaten before in sweetness.
“You’re lying!”
And while the scent and taste were godlike, if that was all the carrots had, then they would still just be ordinary carrots, bu-
“They are ordinary carrots!”
But, these carrots contained something much greater than that. Their texture was something that could throw entire planets into war. The carrots would be hard and rough on the outside, but on the inside they would reveal themselves to be as soft as jelly. This meant that the taste would be equalled out across the entirety of the fruit, caus-
“Carrots aren’t fruits, dumbass!”
“Anypony !”
Anyone who experienced something like this would crave it for all eternity, turning them into the carrot farmer’s slaves. This farmer had a whole crowd of ponies locked up in his barn, waiting for their next carro-
“Who do you think you are, accusing me of slavery?! I’m black for fucks sake!”
Waiting for their next carrot. A carrot they would never receive. One might think that the reason these ponies wouldn’t get their beloved carrots was the cold heart of the carrot farmer, bu-
“Fuck you!”
But the cold heart of the carrot farmer wasn’t always the case. Sometimes, his harvest could’ve gone bad. Other times he might have slept through the entirety of the season, letting his slaves watch, as their beloved carrots would rot in the grou-
“First you accuse me of slavery, then you accuse me of sadism! You’re sick!”
As their beloved carrots would rot in the ground. But not today. Today, the carrot farmer was being chased by a swarm of parasprites, all of whic-
“You don’t say!”
All of which craved his carrots. One might think that these parasprites ate up all of the carrots, but in reality, someone else had noticed the pattern of the parasprites, and exploited it.
“What’re you talking about?”
Someone had seen his chance and climbed up on the cart, and begun eating all of the carrot farmers DELICIOUS carrots, allowing him to regain some much needed streng-
“There you are! I’m going to get back at you, you little shit! No one, I repeat no one eats my carrots.”
What’re you doing, if you stop galloping the parasprites can get to the carrots! Don’t stop, for the love of Celestia, don’t stop!
“I don’t care about the carrots, all I care about is you. No one insults me while eating my carrots.”
“Don’t think that hiding under the cart is going to help you!”
No! I have a wife and two kids! Don’t get near me!
“I came down here to kick tail and chew carrots. And I’m all out of carrots.”
ARRGH!!!
The rain fell on me in cascades, soaking my coat in the cold liquid. Even though my raincoat had been sealed tight, it didn’t grant me any protection from the relentless torrents of water. My mane and tail had both doubled in weight, the absorbed water taking their toll as my hooves thudded against the pavement.
But I didn’t care, not even for a second. I had a goal clear in mind, a clear objective that had to be reached. So I continued walking forward, despite the endless attacks from the elements.
At one point I briefly considered casting a spell to erect a small forcefield around me to protect me from the rain, but I quickly realized that it would cost more energy than it would save me. Nevertheless, I continued moving forward, my goal fresh in mind.
I remembered just how uncomfortable the coat had been at first, seeing as how it was three sizes too small. But I can’t say that I was in any position to complain, I had just stolen it on the way out of prison after all.
Even so, it was far better than anything I had ever gotten inside the prison. Not that they gave us any clothes that is.
The only things they’d ever give us was the name tags etched onto our chests. On the first day we arrived, they came up to us, and placed a collar around our necks. After they had done that, they’d attach a number and a name to the collar, effectively showing the world who we were.
After the name tag was in place, they had one of the unicorns at the prison come up, and cast the spell the inmates called “tatoozer.” Not the best name, I know, but what can you expect from inmates?
The point of this spell was to meld the collar and the name tags into our skin, turning the text on the nametag into a tattoo, while making the collar unremovable. With this in place everypony could see that we were inmates, and they had a collar on our necks that they could attach a chain too.
It’s almost as if we’d been branded, but unlike branding, this tattoo could be removed. That is, it could be removed if you got pardoned from your crimes and released from prison.
But I was sentenced to life in prison, and I had just broken out, so there’s no way I’d ever get rid of this tattoo. Everypony would be able to see what I was, so I needed something to cover myself up with.
So, on the way out I grabbed the closest coat I could find. Too bad it was the janitor’s rain-coat, that guy is bucking small. Furthermore, I’m allergic to wool, and guess what this thing’s made of?
Wool. Buck my life.
Still, it’s not all that bad, as I plan on returning to the prison once my quest is completed. I’ve made some friends in there, and honestly, I miss them.
Well, they’re not exactly friends , they’re just too small to fight back when I mount them, but that’s irrelevant.
My point is that my life is within those walls. The outside world has evolved into something different and strange since the last time I was out here. I can’t live out here.
Hell, now we have four princesses and an empire just to the north! There’s no way I’m capable of living in this world, but I should know enough to complete my task.
“Mom, did you see that?” A voice called out to my left.
I had been so caught up in my thoughts that I hadn’t noticed that I might’ve been seen in the thunderstorm. It hadn’t been a problem out on the road leading up to Ponyville, but inside the town I had to be careful.
With this in mind, I quickly leaped into the nearest bush, trying to hide from the prying eyes of foals and mothers.
“It’s probably nothing, just ignore it.” A feminine voice answered.
“But I saw somepony out in the rain, mom!” The first voice replied.
“Don’t worry about it,” the second voice began, “there’s nothing out here. Look! Can you see anypony out here?” From my improvised hiding spot I couldn’t see much of what happened, and the rain didn’t help much either, but I could see that the mare held out her hoof at the last part of the sentence.
The foal then looked in my direction, and glared at my bush for several seconds before turning around. “Yeah, you’re probably right, mom.”
With that sentence, they both continued their trot, heading towards whatever they had to go too. Knowing them, it was probably a warm home, with a nice bed, and a good cup of tea.
My cell was actually very similar. It was also warm, but that’s because everyone constantly broke into fights. I didn’t have a nice bed though, but that didn’t matter, seeing as how I always fell asleep on top of my cellmate.
“Oh god, I miss him already. I have to finish up quick, and return to Pink Sugar! The school is not far off!”
Filled with motivation, I jumped out of the bush, and galloped in the direction I thought lead to Ponyville Elementary School.
I galloped like this for several minutes, but I didn’t arrive at the school. Stomping in place, I came to the conclusion that the school had moved since the last time I was out of prison. It made sense, I hadn’t been outside for twenty years.
Realizing that my quest had been in vain, I decided to trot back to the prison. As I turned around, a newspaper came flying on the wind and hit my face.
Pulling off the newspaper, I couldn’t help myself from reading the headlines.
PARASPRITES RAMPAGING MANEHATTEN! CARROT FARMER LOST HARVEST, THEN PROCEEDED TO BEAT UP A HOMELESS PEGASUS WITH THE LAST CARROT!
Deeming it worthless, I threw the newspaper off to the side. I never took my eyes off of it however, so when it flew up in the air, I got a full view of its destruction as it got hit by lightning.
Normally, I wouldn’t bother telling this, but as it got hit, the light from the thunderstrike illuminated the nearby area. During this split second, I noticed a single house, built alone on a meadow.
From what little I had seen of it in that one second of thunder, I realized that it was the one thing I had been looking for all along.
The school.
With renewed energy, I galloped towards the school whilst preparing my bowels for what was to come.
When I arrived before the school, I realized just how lucky I had been when I saw it for that split second. If I had been standing at any other place, or watched it from any other angle, I would’ve missed it.
But yet here I was, standing before the school with my bowels screaming for release. I couldn’t have been more lucky. Not only had I noticed the school, but I had also eaten my cellmate Pink Sugar’s food rations. The stage was set, and everything was prepared.
Looking for a way in, I noticed the there was rows of windows at the side of the building. With a little bit of magic, I used a rock to clear out one of these windows, effectively clearing an opening for myself.
When I entered the school, I couldn’t help but notice how warm it was inside. The teachers really cared about their pupils, seeing as how they would keep the school warm during a thunderstorm.
Clearing my head, I looked around; searching for the blackboard. “I need to find it, it has to be here. If it’s not here, then the entire journey will have been in vain!”
That’s when I saw it. It nailed to the backwall, taking up all of the room, ensuring that everypony could see it at all times. It was perfect.
Walking up to the blackboard, I prepared my bowels for what was to come. “This is great, I can finally have my revenge on my exwife! That pesky schoolteacher made my life a living hell! Now I’m finally here, in her daughters school! Everything’s set and ready, and my bowels are prepared and waiting. They say revenge is a dish best served cold, but I disagree. I say revenge is a turd best left hot and smoking!”
And with that I bent over on the teacher’s desk, aiming my flank towards the blackboard. After ensuring my aim was perfect, I unleashed the kraken.
It was a glorious sight. Because it flew out in groups I could move my flank around, allowing me to hit all of the blackboard with my fabulous excrement.
Once I had emptied my bowels, I jumped up on the desk and turned around as to get a better view of the newly painted piece of art. But I couldn’t see it clearly, it was too dark.
“Silly me, why don’t I just use my magic to illuminate the room?”
And with that, I charged up my horn, allowing light to enter the dark room.
But it still felt like something was missing. I had turned the blackboard into a brownboard, but it wasn’t enough. It didn’t feel like a school, so my revenge wasn’t completed.
I quickly realized that the only thing I had to do was to write something on the brownboard, so I charged up my horn once more, and carved out some letters in the loose crust.
I still remember how good it felt to have written those words on it, the satisfaction that flowed throughout the entirety of my being.
But who can blame me? After all, what words could better express my feelings than those?
BUCK SKOOL!
My broom swept across the floor, bringing the dust into one pile, making it easier for me to pick it up with the tray. With the dust in the tray, I could lift it up and bring it over to the trash bag without letting the dust spill over the floor.
Or without letting the dust spill over the dust.
Because that’s all it is. The floor might be made of different materials, but essentially it’s the same thing. Everything and everypony is made of the same things. There’s a few differences here and there, but if you dig down to the basics we’re all dust.
Why does it even matter to continue? There’s only a few differences in our lives. We walk around on the ground, and live our lives in cities or rural areas. All of this is nothing but dust. If you’re a unicorn, you might live in the same area, but you’re going to be surrounded by magic. But in the end magic is just as meaningless as dust.
Even if you’re a pegasus, you’re still just surrounded by magic and water. And who’s to say that that’s even less meaningless than dust? Nothing matters in life or in death. One might argue that life in itself is worth living for, but just look at the alicorns. They live forever, so compared to them, our lives are nothing more than a second.
I put the broom back on its place at the side of the cart and pushed it towards the next room.
This wasn’t the first time I had to push a cart like this. I’ve lived as a janitor most of my life, so I’ve acquired quite a bit of experience when it comes to this particular cart, yet that’s not what I’m talking about. I’m talking about the type of cart that holds the dead.
My wife died a few years back, and that’s what opened my eyes to the truth about the universe. The death of someone so close to me, the one who I considered worth more than the entire world, was just as fragile as anything else in this world. So why did I even consider her anything special in the first place? She was no different from the rest of us, she was just... dust.
I stopped pushing the cart and opened the doors in front of me, allowing me to walk into the next room and begin my cleaning.
My initial speeches and conversations on the subject were met with the same reaction everywhere. Fear and rejection.
But who am I to blame them? I anticipated that something like this would happen. After all, it took the death of the one closest to me to open my eyes to the truth, so why should a single stallion’s experiences convince them?
But the rejection hurt nevertheless. I tried to reason with my children and friends, but nopony would listen to me. After a while, they’d just ignore me completely even if I came to them for a different purpose. This only strengthened my beliefs.
After all, what kind of sentient life form would turn down their father and friend because of his beliefs? They wouldn’t, unless our definition of sentient life was wrong. What if sentient life weren’t so special as previously believed? What if the only thing that separated us from the critters was the different arrangements of the dust that made up our bodies?
This was the only explanation that appeared in my mind, and I quickly accepted it. After all, if we really were as special as we said, they wouldn’t have turned me down as harshly as they did.
I finished sweeping the floor, and used the tray to bring up the dust in the trash bag.
“Fitting that I’m sweeping up dust, what with all of the things I’ve been thinking about lately. Not a single day passes by without a thought of Shining Ruby and the dust we’re made of.”
I can’t believe that I used to enjoy life as much as I did; it was completely ludicrous that I managed to live a lie for so long. A filter had been pulled down over my eyes, blinding me from the truth. That filter consisted of all the ponies I cared for, as well as the feelings I harbored for them.
My love for my wife brought a fake joy into my life, preventing me from seeing the truth about our composition. The friendship with my colleagues and my neighbors blinded me from the fact that there’s no meaning to our existence. The belief that my family would stay together, no matter what happened, only managed to strengthen the ignorance that I had built up over the years.
I placed the tray back up on the cart, and started pushing it in the direction of the next room on the list. Having an organized work schedule was the only thing that managed to keep me alive and kicking. My realization about the universe had completely pulled out all the motivation I had to live. It was, after all, completely useless to go on.
But despite everything, I still managed to get some slight, if almost non-existent enjoyment out of planning and scheming. It was one of the few things about my miserable life that actually seemed to have some meaning.
Because the act of planning mundane tasks in detail brought me such enjoyment, I would often take much pride in scheming my work schedule with even more perfection than I did the normal tasks, such as eating, drinking, showering and shopping.
I had even made plans for the different routes I would take on my cleaning shifts at the Royal Canterlot Palace. I had made several routes that adapted to the different situations that I could encounter. The different plans were made for the sole purpose of keeping me alone all while I cleaned.
It all required complete discipline though. One mistake, and I the entire plan would fall apart. If I lost a tool or dropped my layout of the building, I might end up in the worst possible situation: in front of another pony.
Satisfied with my location in the new room, I brought the cart to a stop and reached down to grab the broom, only to grab thin air.
“What?”
I walked out to the side to see the broom, but it wasn’t there. The broom weren’t attached to the cart, so I couldn’t continue with the plan. If I had lost something else, I might be able to continue, but not without the broom.
Had it been the map, I could’ve continued as I had long since memorized the layout of the palace. Had it been the lantern that the castle staff had attached to the cart, I could continue as the light from Luna’s moon would provide enough light for me to work.
But without the broom, I couldn’t even work. My job as a janitor was to sweep up all the dust in exchange for a few bits as well as an apartment in the outer parts of the Royal Palace. But how could I possibly sweep up dust without a broom?
Frantically, I took the lantern and trotted around the room, searching for the broom. But it wasn't there.
“Of course it’s not in this room, I just walked in here. I must’ve lost it further back.”
As I walked towards the door connecting the room to the previous room, memories of the broom flew through my mind.
But it was still just a regular broom. It was made to sweep up dust, despite it being made of dust itself. So why did I care for it so? What was so special about this particular patch of dust?
I walked through the doorway and entered the last room. Instantly, I started my search. Darting off to the right, I nervously shook my head left and right, hoping to find the broom standing in a corner.
Realizing it wasn’t there, I turned around to continue my search at the other part of the room.
“I need that broom. I can’t lose it! I need to find her broom!”
“...her broom…”
The moment I realized why the broom meant so much to me, I stopped in place, incapable of moving. I had been shutting off the entire world for so long, yet this single broom was one thing that I couldn’t discard.
For so long, I had believed that nothing in the world mattered, yet this one broom meant more to me than the entire world. Why did I love it as much as I did? What unique property did this broom possess so that I needed it as much as I did?
I had already remembered why just a second earlier, yet it never really struck through my skull before I uttered the words aloud.
“It was her broom. It was Shining Ruby’s broom.”
As tears started to cloud my vision, my body shook all over. At the end of the sentence, my speech had become a little shaky, and if I had continued speaking, that effect on my voice would only amplify over time.
Slowly, memories of our life started flowing through my mind like water would flow through a river on a wet autumn day.
***
Our first encounter at the Grand Galloping Gala forty two years ago. Neither of us were invited to the party, we just served drinks for everypony. We only noticed each other because we bumped into one another, causing me to fall for her. Both literally and figuratively.
Our first kiss during the Nightmare Night a few months later. We had been dating for weeks, but neither of us had taken the initiative to show our affections towards one another in such an intimate way. In the end, she had been the one to do so, much to the amusement of my fellow waiters.
The evening I proposed to her a year and a day later. We had spent the entire day cleaning up after the festivities the night before, and she was frantically looking for anything she might have overlooked. Getting her attention, I bowed down and presented the one thing she had missed in the day.
Our marriage half a year later. We were wed two weeks into January, which allowed the snow to cover her in a makeup much more beautiful than anything the nobles could buy with all of their bits.
The first foal we had almost two years later. It was a little pegasus, just like her mother.
***
All of these memories reminded me why I loved the world and the things in it. They all reminded me that the reason I started questioning it wasn’t the world itself, but rather a noble who thought it would be funny to take his airship out for a spin while drunk.
All of these memories reminded me that I still had family that lived, and that they waited for the day I would return home. In my sorrow I had withdrawn myself, allowing myself to grow nihilistic.
As I opened my eyes, I had to clear them of tears several times before I could even see the room around me. As I did I saw the broom lying on the ground, just a meter away.
Walking over to it, I picked up the broom. My eyes fell upon the inscription carved with care into the handle.
From a loving wife to her beloved husband
