Dinky's Mentor

by TriangleHead

Rating: everyone
Tags: Slice of Life
Length: 822

An accident, a school project, a stallion, a filly, a mare. What could possibly go wrong?

An accident in Doctor Whooves' clock shop destroys a special order, it'll need another six to nine months to repair. That, though bothersome, is expected. What is not expected is the little filly that comes into his life, and into his shop, because of the destruction.

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2012-06-01 17:29:03 UTC

Part One: Shattered

Part One: Shattered

He hadn't expected this.  Well...no, that was not true.  He had expected this...just not like this...and certainly not today.  Then again, perhaps he should have.  It was an unusual day after all.

Granted the day had started out normally: wake up at four in the morning, "feed" K-9, let K-9 out, eat breakfast, listen to K-9's analysis of the day before, go into the shop proper, scan the list of inventory, write down the days orders, check over the clocks, wind the older clocks, flip over the hourglasses, take the broken clocks off the shelves, take them into the back room, make sure nothing in the back room exploded...the usual.

"The usual" had ended however, when he failed to open his shop at seven-thirty.  "The usual" had ended when he spent the greater part of the morning rearranging the shop, dusting, polishing, and straightening up.  It was an unusual day...a special day...a day that had loomed in his mind for two months.  This day would change everything!

"Is all of this necessary Master?" K-9 had asked.

"Yes, of course it is!" He had replied.

It was.  After all, it wasn't every day the fillies and colts of Ms. Cheerilee's class came over.  He would be spending the afternoon showing those fillies and colts his shop, the clocks and other inventions he made, and best of all, he would be able to put any and all rumors surrounding him and his shop to bed...as long as K-9 stayed hidden.  Yes, a chance like this did not come up on a usual day.

The class had arrived shortly after noon (they had an early lunch).  He had been so excited to show them around he nearly tripped over his own hooves.  After a quick recovery, he had given them his well practiced speech: who he was, what he did, and how he did it.  There had been a group of three fillies that had interrupted him, asking how he got his cutie mark...but Cheerilee had quickly silenced them.  He had then gone around the room, showing and explaining some of his best projects that he had placed around the room earlier.  The kids, for their part, were enthusiastic...they had a lot of question.  He was all too eager to answer them.

Their biggest question: What is that thing over there, under the tarp?

His answer: We'll get to that.  I'm saving the best for last.

But, it was obvious to the fillies and colts and their teacher that whatever was under that tarp was special.  He kept glancing at it and grinning.

And then...it happened.  The thing that he hadn't expected...well...had expected to happen.  By his own hoof, by accident.

He had just started to show off and intricate, over sized hourglass, a beautiful blue and gold piece.  When the murmuring started.  He ignored it in favor of explaining the rotating hinges and the metal and glass work embellishing the top when, after a flurry of louder murmuring, and what sounded like a fight he heard a crash.

The "thing over there, under the tarp" had fallen from its platform and had shattered.

He didn't remember much after that.  He could remember pushing through the class that surrounded the object.  He could remember seeing the splintered wood, the cracked and bend hands, the busted accordion arm...the cuckoo clock was destroyed.

He could hear Cheerilee speaking, in what must have been a stern, disappointed tone, to her class.  She then gathered them up, turned to him, offered an apologetic smile, and left.

And now he sat alone.

He didn't remember calling K-9, but he have...seeing as the dog was scanning the busted clock.  He watched, vaguely, as the beam of red light swept from one end of the clock to the other.  The light passed over three or four times before dissipating.  K-9 then turned to him.

"The clock is not operational.  The clock will not be operational any time soon.  Many of the external and internal mechanisms are broken.  In this state it will take six to nine months of repair work before completion."

Boom.  Six months of his life gone.  Shattered by...something...somepony.

He sighed.  Held his head in his hooves.

"Master, I told you not to present this one.  Children are careless."

K-9 always knew what to say to make him feel better.

"I know...you told...but it was for the kids.  I wanted to show them something...great."  He glanced at the clock.  Not so great now.  Not so great an idea now.

"Did...did you see what happened?"  He asked, turning to his robotic pet.

"You commanded me to stay in the back room."

He sighed again.  "I did.  Yes, yes I did.  Well.  Then, I guess -- we'll just start over.  Yes.  I'll find the parts."

"And write the princess."  K-9 reminded.

"And write the princess."  He parroted.

"And your uncle."

"And my uncle."

He grabbed a broom and dustpan. "K-9, go make me a to-do list.  This way I won't forget...anything."

"Yes Master."

He started sweeping up the remains only after he heard K-9's wheels fade away.

It hadn't been a usual day.  It most likely wouldn't be a usual six to nine months either.