I'm fairly impressed. The ponies here are pretty friendly, and it's a very diverse town. I know that I had made such a ludicrous decision as to take part in Plumbing, considering the water lines here aren't all that bad. I can make do.
Two carnies. Flim and Flam, they call themselves. Supposedly they have a cider business that went haywire after a competition to see who gets to create cider, or so I've heard. I remember my brother talking about it. My brother.
I never met him. My brother's name was Jimmi Nutron, and he was a nut farmer. He looked out for my family as if they were all that mattered. My mother keeps telling stories reminiscing about his past. In very many ways it's a strenuous task to listen to her ramble on about his brief life. I myself cannot listen to her stories, to me they're unjust.
One of the epics my mother has told me was about his passing. Tragic yes, even for Bulk Biceps. I've seen him somewhat upset after a story from my father. Even he doesn't like telling the stories. I will try and recite it from memory.
Jimmi was walking away from his friend and soon to be professional scooter rider, Mikey Haylor's apartment. Yes, my brother was a scooter rider. Anyhow, as he was leaving for a taxi carriage, a professional racer named Pony Stewart rammed him as he was reading a scroll. Jimmi never got to the nut farm the next day. I can't remember all the details. Stewart was forgiven soon after the accident out of grief. My mother could tell he was equally as distressed as we were. An appalling accident, yes; considering Jimmi was so young.
My father gathered up his bits and bought an abandoned cottage on the outskirts of this town. Cobwebs and broken glass, yes, but in hindsight it's in okay shape. Some cobblestones are missing, but I'm pretty sure my father will cope with it. For being about 350 bits, it needs work. But hey, it's 350 bits, so you could expect this. Heh, to be in the city it was far more expensive; roughly 1500 bits to live in an apartment. Considering my family is rather low income (The absence of Jimmi and the nut farm, and the fact my mother doesn't work), we were grateful for what we had. I see this buttercup pegasus mare on my route to work every other day. I've tried to say hello and introduce my self but she runs (despite her wings) or hides her eyes behind her mane. Timid, yes.
"Are you Balsa Steel? The plumber we called for?" A pony with a bi-colored mane asks hesitantly. "Yes, Balsa Steel; the plumber you needed. By the way, who's we? I thought you were the only one who lived here?" "Oh yes, Lyra. She's not here right now, hehe. I'm Bon Bon." She put her hoof out for a shake. I return it courteously. Okay, they live together. I could care less. I'm still living with my parents and to be honest, I should have moved out. I should move out. I have no bits but a job. "So what's the problem? Clogged drain? Broken water main? Shattered pipeline?" She replies with a simple nod. I assume it's a shattered pipeline. Those can be a helluva fix, especially if the entire pipe is gone. I noticed the Rash LP's and wondered if she or her room mate were fans. "Oof, that smell of septic is woozy." I begin to feel light-headed. I'm praying to Celestia that this is an easy fix. As soon as she opens the door I see it. Septic tank overflowed. But why? Why in the house? WHY NOT OUTSIDE? Sometimes I want to sit down and think about the residences here. "Okay, I'll tell you this. Don't pay me because I can't pump a septic tank. I know a friend who is an omniscient about pumping. Literally, he knows the fastest and slowest-yet-most effective ways to unclog a drain." Bon-Bon looks at me with a puzzled look. "Okay... but where exactly is he?" That's where my big mouth spoke too soon. Las Pegasus. Too darn far to come by day. He'd have to fly by night and get here by dawn. Too long to have a clogged septic tank. "Uhh, on second thought, I'll see what I can do."
Good grief. I need a shower. Like now. Pumping a septic tank with little to no experience is a dreadful task. Not only does it smell horrendous, afterwards you smell absolutely disgusting. Definitely do I need a shower. "Oh Balsa, you got a job for Wednesday! It came in the mail, sweetie." Now what? I haven't even showered yet! Oh well, what's the worst that could happen; I could be forced to Dodge Junction to sweep dirt? I opened up the scroll and it read:
Balsa,
Hello, I'm Leddy Gee. As much as it pains me to ask, I have encountered a severe problem in the water main outside my residence. Lalex and Peil have tried to help out but no luck. Then again Peil was using his drum sticks and Lalex was using his guitar. Anyways, I'd be willing to pay if you complete the task. Thank you, Leddy Gee.
I am a huge Rash fan, and to do a task for a legendary bassist? Ha! I'd do that no matter what!
Then again, I don't have any experience with water mains. That's a two pony job.
"Hey Balsa! You Ready yet?" Those are the words I wish my father, Head Vice, had never said. Manehattan was nice, but far out of our price range. We simply couldn't stay there. My mother , Marey Jane, was finished packing. "Say, Where exactly are we moving, pops?" I asked hesitantly. I then remembered my belligerent father never responded to questions when he's fully engaged in an activity. He tossed my redord player along with my Rash vinyls into the back of the wagon. At this point I'm sure he broke all but one, Still Image Frames. I had that one in my saddlebag. "You're gonna hate me for this son, but Ponyville is where we're moving."
Ponyville. Yes. That place. I could care less about where we would move half the time but Ponyville? How about no. I'd rather be working at Dodge Junction in the dirt sweeping business than plumbing here.
My name is Balsa Steel, and I'm being forced to the outskirts of a small town.
