Opportunity in the Community
“I believe I am not being hyperbolic when I state that of all the unpleasant days that have darkly dawned across Equestria’s domain, today is definitively the worst.”
Flam centered his shoulders before putting all his weight into another shove of their cart. It remained firmly stuck in the muck of the bog. “It’s certainly not great,” he said. “But things could be worse.”
“How?” Flim demanded. He ran a hoof through his hair, but between the swamp muck and the lingering tar and feathers, only succeeded in causing it to stick straight up. "Please elucidate. I would certainly find comfort in discovering even one singular way in which—”
Woomph.
“Brother, your tail is on fire,” Flam noted.
Flim quickly planted his hindquarters in a greenish puddle, the smell of burning hair mixing with the swamp’s normal fecal fragrance. He grimaced. “I suppose you think this is the universe’s attempt to expose my complaints as exorbitant?”
Flam stared past his brother into the mists of the swamp. “No. But… that might be.”
With a bone-rattling roar, a hulking figure leapt out of the fog, more sudden flashes of fire erupting all around the pair. Flim and Flam backpedaled rapidly until their own cart blocked their retreat.
“What have we here?” the beast rumbled. As it stalked closer, a small disinterested part of Flam noted the beast had two heads. The much larger, terrified part of him was focused specifically on the tiger’s slavering jaws.
“A fresh meal, delivered right to us, sister.” The creature’s goat head cackled. “Tonight we shall dine well. On…” The goat blinked. “Chickens?”
Flim hastily tried to brush off the feathers that remained stubbornly tarred to his coat. “No, madame, uh. Not at all. We are but simple travellers, entrepreneurs nonpareil, journeying through your beautiful and bucolic marshlands.”
“Sister,” the tiger head growled. “What’s a nonpareil?”
The goat narrowed her yellowing eyes. “I think some kind of candy.”
The tiger licked its lips.
“What my brother means is that we’re ponies, not chickens,” Flam piped up.
“Good,” the tiger said, smiling toothily. “Chickens always give me gas.” The chimera took a step forward, more flames springing up in a ring that surrounded the ponies and their wagon.
“Wait! Can’t we talk about this?”
“Naaah,” the goat bleated. “I’d rather just eat you two up, and then have your load of apple pies for dessert.”
Flim and Flam exchanged a glance.
“Uh,” Flim said, some of the terror draining away in a moment of confusion. “We’re not carrying apple pies.”
The chimera stopped. “You’re not?” the tiger said, suspiciously.
“No.”
The two heads leaned together in quick conference. “Darn. There goes our surprise! Now how are we supposed to help her feel better?”
“Sssurprissse?” a grumpy voice hissed. A third head appeared over the other two, as the creature’s tail slithered into sight. “Why are you two being ssso loud?” The snake head broke out into a bout of hoarse coughing before spitting something green and globulous into the swamp.
Flam took one look at the snake’s dull scales and droopy eyes and elbowed his brother in the barrel. He inclined his head, eyebrows waggling with meaning.
Flim gulped, and then stood up straight. “Excuse me, ladies.”
The chimera leaned forward, and Flam found himself suddenly the subject of three baleful stares.
He nervously reached up to adjust his hat before realizing it had been left behind in their haste to escape their last town. “We’re not carrying apple pies. No, ma’ams. We’re currently transporting the finest homeopathic remedies, palliative panaceas, and curative nostrums!”
Three pairs of eyes narrowed in unison.
“Medicine,” Flam cut in. “We have lots of very good medicine.” He rapped sharply on their cart, and all four walls collapsed in a spring-loaded mechanism, revealing a full display stand of colorful bottles.
The tiger and goat’s eyes grew wide. The snake leaned in, blinking owlishly. “What? I can’t see, bring me closer.” The chimera obligingly turned its back to the two, and the snake slithered in to examine the bottles, wrapping around to uncork the biggest.
“Okay,” Flam whispered. “Get ready to run. We can’t risk them realizing that the medicine doesn’t actually do anyth—”
There was a shriek, and both Flim and Flam jumped. The chimera whipped around, paws thundering down on either side of them. Flim found himself inches from the tiger’s jaws and Flam just as close to the goat.
“Sisters!” the snake babbled. It shrieked again and Flam belatedly realized that it was some kind of horrid serpentine squee. “This is fantassstic! It’s just like the ssscale ointment that Mother used to make when we were little.”
The chimera backed up, the heads sharing a perplexed look. “Really?” tiger ventured.
The snake dipped its whole length in the biggest bottle, pulling back up to preen in the reflection of a nearby puddle. Its eyes twinkled brighter and scales shone with a renewed vigor. “I feel better than I have in years!”
The tiger grinned. “Oh, good. Then you’ll be right back to normal after we’ve eaten these—”
“Absssolutely not,” the snake said firmly. “We will sssee these fine gentleponies on their way. In fact...”
The snake pulled them off to the side, the tiger and goat wincing slightly as it dragged their whole body into some scrubby bushes. When the creature sullenly walked back, the snake had wound itself around an old and suspiciously red-stained bag.
The snake dropped the bag, and it landed with a familiar clinking sound. Flim cautiously nosed it open to see the gold shine of bits – more than the two had seen in a long time.
“We’ll take all your medicines,” the snake continued. “And you sssimply have to ssstop by in the future. You’re always welcome here!”
The tiger and goat glowered, but the snake hissed at them sharply. “Yeaaah,” the goat reluctantly said. “Thanks for making our sister feel better.”
“Our... pleasure?” Flim said. He stood staring back at their cart as the snake cheerfully poked around amongst the bottles. Flam had to grab the bag of bits and hastily drag his brother away.
They didn’t waste any more time, not pausing until the sounds of the sisters chattering had vanished in the distance and the swamp had dwindled down into nothing but shrubby trees and occasional splotches of mud.
Flam scratched his head. “Brother, are you thinking what I’m thinking?”
“Hm.” Flim stopped, sitting down on a nearby rock. “That for possibly the first time, our goods and services were both fully effectual and appreciated by the local populace, leading to a mutually beneficial interaction for all parties?”
“Yes.” Flam shivered. “This really is the worst day.”
Flim nodded sagely. “Let us never speak of it again.”
