Cranky Doodle Donkey walked into Green Wall's Pharmacy, as he did once a month, to pick up his rheumatism medication.

He approached the counter, which for some reason was attended by a cow in a smock. He cleared his throat.

The cow turned. "Oh, hi, welcome to Green Wall's."

"Yeah, I'm here to pick up my prescription," Cranky said. "Name's Cranky Doodle Donkey."

The cow turned and rifled through every bin of filled prescriptions. She then turned and flipped through a huge white binder next to the register. All the while, she was chewing her cud and making loud, smacking noises. "Uh-huh...yeah, Mr. Donkey? Your prescription's on backorder."

Cranky blinked. "Backorder?"

"Uh-huh. Backorder." The cow smacked loudly. "Our supplier didn't deliver some things this week. They're coming back next week."

"Next...next week? But...I need that medicine today!"

"Yeah, I know sir, I'm sorry." The cow smacked loudly. "Wish I could help. Oh, but..."

"Yes?"

"You might wanna try Pill Pusher's Discount Drugs, over on Stirrup Street, sir. They're independent, they might have it." She waddled into the back, then came out a minute later with a box full of prescription order slips. She rifled through it until she found the prescription his doctor had written, then hoofed it over to him. "Here, take this to Pill Pusher," she said.

With a sigh, Cranky put the prescription slip into his saddlebag, then trudged wearily across town, his tired old joints aching worse with every step.

He arrived at Pill Pusher's Discount Drugs, which was teeming with ponies. It took half an hour just for him to get to the counter.

A perky young mare smiled at him. "Hi, what can I do for you?"

"Yeah, uhh...Green Wall's sent me over here," he said. He put his prescription slip on the counter. "They ran out of my rheumatism medicine, said I might have better luck here."

The mare looked over his prescription, then trotted into the back. She came back almost five minutes later. "Yeah, we can fill this. Give us fifteen minutes, okay?"

"Okay." Cranky sat down on one of the benches provided for customers.

An hour later, the pharmacist called out to him from the back. "Mr. Donkey? I need your insurance information."

"Of course," Cranky said. He stood, his knees aching fiercely, and trotted back up to the counter. He presented his insurance card to the pharmacist, who took it into the back and went to work on the telegraph machine.

Twenty minutes later, the pharmacist returned his insurance card to him, along with his prescription. He tossed a few bits onto the counter, thankful for low co-pays, then heaved himself wearily out the door and across Ponyville, relieved to not have to wait two weeks for his medicine.

By the time he got home, he was so tired all he could do was crawl into bed and sleep.

Then he remembered he needed to get firewood because it was going to be a cold night.

"Screw it," he decided, taking his medicine and drinking a generous swig of whiskey before pulling out every heavy, thick quilt and blanket he had and cocooning himself in his bed.

Author's Note

Loosely based on a personal experience.