Chapter 1: Skipping Town
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Gizmo practically danced as he stepped out of the shower, his hooves tapping against the tile floor. He tried himself off with a flourish, smiling at his own reflection in the mirror. He asked himself, “Who’s gonna have a date tonight?” He answered back, “Me, that’s who, handsome.” He flexed and kissed his modest biceps. His pale coat had a bit of gloss to it. The zits and vestigial moustache from his awkward adolescence had mostly receded into a bit of peach fuzz and just under a half dozen splotches scattered about his face. His front teeth were aligned but still a little big.
The stallion pranced about as he brushed his teeth, applied some cologne and put on his bowtie. “Bowties are cool.” With no further delay, he grabbed the bundle of roses and the box of chocolates as he skipped out the door. This time, he had it. This time, he knew that he would succeed. He couldn’t have picked a better mare, a fellow bookworm, an intellectual like himself. No more chasing shallow beauties like Rarity, or unattainable ones like Fluttershy. He reasoned that if he were worthy, they would have let him know. After all, Rarity was popular with stallions, and Fluttershy had managed to build herself a male harem of her own. His target was a gentle spirit, an intellectual with whom he could spend evenings in stimulating conversation, just enjoying each other’s company, someone who wouldn’t mind his geekiness, or the fact that he wasn’t the most macho stallion, or that he could be awkard at times. They had spent time together and she seemed to like him. “Yes,” he told himself, “I know she’s the one.”
Gizmo stood beneath an immense tree, its boughs shading the wide plaza. There he was. This was it. He swallowed. Time to do or die. He drew himself up to his full height and knocked respectfully on the door. He opened his mouth to speak, but found his treacherous mouth had dried up. “Coming!” a screechy voice answered from inside as the sound of clopping approached the door. Gizmo felt a drop of sweat run down his face. He wanted to bolt, but found himself rooted fast to the spot, condemned. He held up the flowers and chocolates like talismans. The door opened.
“Oh, hi, Gizmo,” said Twilight Sparkle. She gave him a quick glance up and down, raising her eyebrows in apparent astonishment. He tried to smile, but it came out as a grimace. He blushed pink.
“Hi, Twilight.”
Silence. She asked, “So… what can I do you for?” She struggled to meet his eyes.
He forced out the words, “Would you, Twilight Sparkle, do me the honor of watching the Hippocleides meteor shower with me tonight?”
She looked confused. Uh oh. “What?” Pomf! Her wings flared outward, visibly embarrassing the mare.
He drew himself up to his full height again and made his best afford to appear suave as he knelt down and presented her with the flowers and chocolates, asking, almost begging, “Would you, m’lady, please go on a date with me?”
Silence. Things grew worse by the picosecond. Twilight began awkwardly as she took his offerings, “Gizmo, I’m sorry, you’re a nice guy and all, but I don’t want to… go out with you.” No no no! Why couldn’t he think?
“I understand,” he chuckled sheepishly, cheeks passing pink and turning red.
“It’s just that I – It’s just that I, well… I’m not looking for a coltfriend right now.”
Quick! He needed to say something. “Are you into mares?” He instantly realized his mistake split seconds too late as the situation spiraled out of control.
Twilight’s lip curled. “What? No! It’s just that I’m more focused on my studies right now, being a princess and all.”
Stupid! How could he have forgotten? She’s a princess; she doesn’t need a dorky guy like me when she can be courted by nobles and aristocrats from all over the world. “It doesn’t have to be a like date-date. We can just hang out.”
Twilight stamped her hoof. “Gizmo, listen, I know what you’re trying to do, but I said no. You’re really sweet and a nice guy, and I’m sure you’ll make some mare really happy someday, but I don’t want to be anything more than friends with you.”
You’re a nice guy but. That damn escape clause; it was that one damn phrase which had sound the death knell of his romantic aspirations time and again. Every. Single. Damn. Time. Anger bubbled up within Gizmo. He had to say something, get satisfaction from her for all the times that damn phrase had thwarted him. Before he could stop himself, he shouted, “And what do you mean by that!? You say that I’m a great guy and any mare would be lucky to have me, but you don’t want me, despite admitting that I’m a good catch. I’ve heard it all my life, I’m sick of it, and I want to know what it means.”
Twilight shouted, “It means I’d rather go gay for Rainbow Dash than be with a pale, creepy, spineless, boring colt whom I’m not attracted to at all, and who should’ve gotten the memo that if he was worthy, a mare would let him know!”
Ouch. That hurt. The expression fell from his face. The anger vanished. Gizmo said simply. “So that’s it, I’m worthless… Good day. Sorry for bothering you.” He turned and left. He slunk back home. On his table was a bottle of fruity-flavored vodka. Gizmo soon lost track of how much he drank as he lost himself in the bottle.
To his dismay, the booze only made him feel worse, so he drank more, and so he felt even worse, and so he drank even more. And as he drank, he started ranting. “Call me worthless, would they? Why should I listen to them tell me that? How do they know what I’m worth? So I’m not smooth or handsome, but that doesn’t mean I’m worthless. Fucking bitches! How the hell am I supposed to know if they’re trying to tell me something, huh? Why can’t they just say what they mean?”
He thought back on his experiences. He had been rejected at every turn in Ponyville. Without fail, he always got nowhere with the mares. That constricted feeling came again into his chest. He had to get out of town. The door was right over there and his labcoat jacket hung on the doorknob with plenty of money in it. Maybe it was the booze. Maybe it was the frustration. Whatever it was, Gizmo stood up, got his jacket, stepped out the door, and walked out of town, into the night.
