Chamber pots are a man's best friend.
“ You haven’t paid for your drink yet again Dowell.”
A discarding grunt was the barman’s expected reply. Looking right at the wall behind the barman as he savored the final swish of his paint, Cassidy Mac Dowell dropped the chilled glass onto the counter top with a final thud. Life is hard and Dowell was no stranger to this fact given his upbringing in rural Ireland during the mid half of the 20th century.
Pointing his straight edge jaw at the rounding barman, Cassidy’s steeled blue eyes held the man firm as he pondered the man’s statement. His penciled lips fell south the more he thought about the man and his finished pint before raising up from his ash worn bar stool.
“Nature a cals this ol’ mule. Put te drinks with te otters.” He declared as he slightly staggered from his seat to the lone door carved into the dark corner of the fine establishment.
The owner sighed deeply before gripping the glass as someone would a bat and quickly began wiping it down. There was no need for words since he knew Dowell long enough to know the money will come, for if there was something that man could be proud of it was his ability to work. What really worried the barman though was he knew Dowell long enough to know if he kept pestering him about the money.. well it would be a nice vacation from work.
So, the barman and the few regulars said nothing as the iron boar of an elder walked pass them on his way to the crowned chamber pot. His attire didn’t stand out and was as bland as the old pub’s somber backdrop; his faded emerald green vast almost matched the shadows casted along the wall while his finely pressed white dress shirt stiffly fough any wrinkles that dared show themselves. Cassidy looked like he acted: a hardass gentleman.
He ignored their silent eyes as he bypassed the few tables and chairs between him and this single door tucked away in the back and before he knew it found himself cramped in this outhouse size commode. There was no “luxuries” as he thought of them but the bare basics which were a standard partially cracked mirror, a single almost unusable commode, and just enough paper left to get him by.
A quick look in the mirror confirmed the patches of red on his white beard were still red and in fine order, but he ran his fingers through them just to make sure. With this realization finalized, Dowell proceed to do what nature had called him in here for. His stomach turned, nose clenched, and muscles tensed for what was about to come next; his stone hands griped the iron buckle, lifted it up and in one perfect motion did an about face and dropped his trousers.
No words were needed but the understanding that the relief was real.
Despite the condition of this commode it was useable and in life that was all anyone could ask for wasn’t it? The ability to have something available when needed is a bare necessity of any human and by Saint Patrick himself he was exercising that right!
Cassidy grunted following it with a heavy splash and resumed his meditation.
It’s times like this one can isolate and detach themselves from their responsibilities and the outside world for a short time. Many reflect on various topics plaguing their daily thoughts or dream of possibilities to come: Dowell did none of this. A waste of time he believed could be better spent elsewhere like hurrying up before some gimp stole his stool. So he poured every gram of will he had into concentration.
It was intense. His brow wrinkled more than a man his age needed, creating valleys for the river of sweat to flow through as it painted his face red. The tension was so immense that he swore the entire room was shaking right along with him; feeling this increased movement Cassidy braced himself for the worst by firmly placing his left hand on the cold wall while grabbing the paper roller with his right.
This action did little to help. Because due to some bizarre laws of nature Cassidy ended up transferring the vibrations into the very wall supporting him. The whole room shook along with him almost mocking his struggles has he desperately fought to stay on his porcelain seat.
“That dam gammy! He coodn't bill a fence post ticking out of te ground without fooking et up!”
His voice was lost amongst the clattering of broken glass and roof plaster falling from the ceiling, flaking as it descended to pelt him everywhere. He cursed up a storm that would have have popeye coming to him for pointers. Oh it was a little too much for men much younger than him, and in a feat of pure inhuman ability released his hold over the roller and quickly reached behind him and pulled the little silver handle down. And just like that the rumbling started dying down ensyc with the whirling tornado of water as it carried away its victim to the deepest pits of the earth.
Cassidy sighed in relief as his temporary throne turned festival ride came to a halt, leaving his old feathers ruffled as he took in the state of room. The mirror that was perhaps the closest to matching his age was giving its all imitating a greek tragedy, lying broken all over the floor. The sink sported a single crack down the right-hand side of the bowl.. wait that was already there. A quick glance up confirmed the ceiling was shite, and poorly built which didn’t surprise him now that most of it now powered everything in the room including him.
Through the obviously shitely built walls he heard his fellow compatriots mumbling to each other including many more that certainly weren’t there before taking care of business. Perhaps they came to gawk and give that gammy his dues for endangering the town with his terrible plumbing. Whatever the reason for the increased traffic it just meant more bodies between him and his stool.
Finishing off the roll of paper, Cassidy threw it away since the plumbing wasn’t working. Grabbing the edges of his trousers and in one motion stood up while buckling it; an efficient time saving method he himself had honed over his life and while nevering advertising it was very proud of this feat.
He finished quickly and crouched down to gently grab a shard of glass roughly the size of his palm. His fingers held firm around the even edges never pressing down to hard as Cassidy tilted the shard back, forward, and side to side checking his image. Besides a few flakes of the ceiling’s plastering and some dust he had came off relatively untouched. This was fixed with a quick pat of his vest and a flick of his cap to have him looking presentable once more.
Standing up, he was about to wash his hand when he remembered it was the damn plumbing’s fault for his wonderful experience and promptly wiped his hands on the sides of his pants before going for the door.
“O’ I’m Ok ya bunches af lazy fawks!” Cassidy declared has he opened the door and stepped outside?
The light finely assaulted his sight to the point he instinctively backpedaled back to which his head only found the close door. Being a man and a farmer Cassidy learned early on how to deal with pain involving a simple, one line statement his father had told him once.
“Deal whith et” A statement he had taken to heart.
“Celestia! What is it?”
“I don’t know, a Minotaur perhaps?”
“Is it alright?”
Cassidy waited to respond while rubbing his irritated eyes. A trick he had discovered that didn’t do much of anything except to give the illusion he was in pain. He gave them a chance to approach and ‘help’ this old man or see if he was alright, but it never came. An injustice that wouldn’t be tolerated by any means and if none of these “caring” folk were going to ashame the lot than it was once more up to Mac Dowell to do it.. namely through yelling.
“I could be bleeding on the floor with me guts hang’n out and ye wood still b asken me am alright! Yoo sarry bunch coodnt care fer a deed tree!”
His voice could carry a pitch; a pitch so loud that on numerous occasions the barman and his fellow patrons would buy him drinks as tokens of their appreciation. Their little sighs of relief when he took breaks to enjoy the drinks weren’t important, but what was is if needed Cassidy could make his point known.
This was proven true when traces of his insult were still heard echoing seconds after, with accompanying silence he knew he add their attention. He ceased his trick giving his eyes a couple of blinks to clear away the blurriness, even going as far to use his sleeve to get rid of the excess tears. Once more he blinked and it was enough to clear his sight…
“Woo let te dam anmals inside?”
“ANIMALS!?”
“YES! I don’t care ef yoo cun talk but ets no excuse to be enside. Git ot!” Cassidy shouted has he started waving his arms in the air making his way to the gathered eyesore horses.
This tried and true tactic worked about as well as running through a flock of birds, they whinned and neighed as he approached. At first the little horses panicked and sought the safety of numbers but once they realized it only made it easier for him to follow, they settled on the next best thing, running to their princess.
Cassidy wasn’t a fool and stopped his terrifying corralling tactic once he actually took notice of the Vatican like room and it's equally colored popequese ruler sitting on her golden throne. Said pope horse and her guards didn’t look all to please with him herding their fellow herd-mates; Cassidy stood a little taller squaring his shoulders to give that extra bit of stature as the two parties did settled into their own version of a Yankee Western.
Five sets of eyes met his own harden gaze, each one telling him more about these unnaturally defiant horses. The smaller ones were all huddled close to this throne which obviously was the herd leader, who continued to eye him with uncertainty but mostly wonder at his presence. By this subtle exchange it could be suggested the large, winged… wait a minute.
Cassidy took a double take at the now obvious wings and horn accompanying said horse leaving him to briefly wonder just how he had missed it. The armour clad miniatures noticed this sudden change and had slowly crept up to the front of the herd, leaving the mutant horse and the others behind as they continued moving closer to him.
The lot was likely hungry but tough shit.
“I dunt have ane food so git!” He shouted while waving his hands in the air to emphasize his point.
At first, the stunt worked and the four horses flinched taking a step back while their companions turned away to huddle and shake. The clattering of their teeth was enough for Cassidy to clamp his ears shut and was about to yell at them when heard someone calling to him; a heavenly voice purer than any water used in his drinks, a pitch so beautiful it could bring a boy to tears.
Luckily Cassidy Mac Dowell was a man and men don’t cry.
“So, a kelpie leds this herd uh? You think just because you cun talk et gives you the right to come inside?” Cassidy declared now that he was finally aware of the large ones identity.
“No my mysterious friend, but this is my home and I was hoping you would tell me how you enter my home so suddenly?”
“Your home izant here but out there!” He pointed to one of the windows.
“Its right! I just moved to Canterlot about a year ago and love it!”
“The prices here so high though! I much prefer the outer limits of Mane…”
“What? No! I mean outside, out of town in the open fields where you lot can frolic and shit as much as you want, but don’t do it inside.”
His words no matter how true seem to struck a chord with the little ones, for they suddenly grew a spine.
“Hey, you can’t oust us from our homes like that!” Several noded their heads in agreement but quickly stopped when the strange being raising one of its strange claws and shook it.
“Sir, that is enough.” All the ponies turned to watch as their princess finally rose from her throne and carefully descended it steps.
“My name is Celestia, and I rule over Equestria alongside my sister.”
“Than why is thair only won throne?”
“Quiet!” Celestia countered
“Why should I?”
“Because if you don't then I’ll be left with no other choice and will have to escort you from the castle.”
“Listen here you stubborn old ass! I haven't te foggiest how I got here but I know how I’m not leaving.” Cassidy declared has he took a taunting step forward, forcing the guards and princess to flinch back.
Capitalizing on this he raised his iron clenched hands into the air as he took a few light jabs. The Equestrians leaned forward ready to answer his declaration when Princess Celestia calmly walked toward their uninvited guest. He didn’t back away but held his fists close, just under his chin but a fist away from his chest just in case. Celestia said nor acted like the stance bothered her but in a manner befitting the Solar Diarch was actually smiling.
“Now, now. There is no need for such threats in front of my court, let alone my home. We all may have taken this a little too close to heart. It may hav…”
“I knew non of ye had no fight, but ye I thought would have gust a bit. Clearly your gust a somber ol’ box!” Celestia’s smile faltered, sagging at the corners.
“I’m afraid you’re confused dear gentlecolt. I’m an alicorn and not a ‘box’ as you suggest.”
“Yer ight. In fact ya probably the biggest two faced, devil’s ass slapping harlot! I wouldn’t trust ya words even if the good ol’ Saint Patrick himself came don and told me yer words were right as gold. Be gone with thee!”
Before anypony could react, including the princess, Cassidy propelled one of his iron fists forward tempered by years of manual work and harden by the very elements. It was too fast to stop and before they could blink it had connected squarely with the flattest side of Celestia’s muzzle. There was no sound of impact but the force behind it was felt and seen as it knocked the alicorn off her hooves and flung her nearly two feet back before giving one single POP as she hit the floor.
“Princess Celestia!” In unison shouted several ponies of those gathered before the guards broke rank and charged the creature that dare harmed their princess. Cassidy turned around to face them while bringing his fists at the ready, a thin smile on his lips as the guards rushed him.
“Now, this brings me back to my young’n days! Let’s see if you lot got a bit o fight in ye unlike this ol’ mare hre.”
They took his taunt in stride charged him ahead on. The first one to reach him was a blue haired stallion that had stood closer to the mare than the others. He was yelling as he bounced high into the air(waist high for Dowell) while the very tip of his horn glowed with the intensity of a light bulb. As the stallion prepared to attack his eyes, and every otherpony’s eyes widen in shock as the tall aggressor swiftly dodged( more like side step) to the right with his fist reared back.
WHAM!
Another perfect landing as this one connected along the stallion’s head. The force behind it immediately ceased the horn’s annoying glow and they watched as the guard mimicked their princess and hit the ground cold, this time even managing to get a couple of bounces before coming to rest.
“Any more?” Cassidy asked challenging as he returned his attention remaining three guards. When none answered he faked a step forward, which prompted the one on the right to scream before collapsing where he stood.
“By the Saint himself ya a bunch of ol’ softies! Never spoke rudely to anotter wit ot fainting let eloun bing en a fight?” He asked not out of anger but with some legitimate concern. The old man’s heart grew just roughly bigger than a one cent piece when the remaining two shook their heads no.
Cassidy knew when to fight and when to drink, sadly they couldn’t fight and he didn’t have a drink which meant he would have to settle for another option. He relaxed his guard and looked down toward his trousers, gripping his belt in both hands as he thought about doing the sure fire way of installing toughness into someone by beating it into them, but decided against it: it was his good belt.
“Alright.” He stated has he ran his thumb and pointing figure through his beard. “I’m not sawry for noth’n but I do know a way to fix te prableen. Na grab them bowth and falla me.”
______________________________________________________________________
“Are you sure this actually necessary?”
“YES!” Cassidy shouted as he dropped his plow to throw a rock at the lazy slacker.
The rock missed its target, kicking up a puff of dust right next to the pony’s rear hooves but the message came through clear. Whatever other questions or concerns he had were quickly bucked into the wind as he ran back to his assigned job. Cassidy let his gaze linger for just a second before quickly returning to his plow to make up for lost time.
“Git Celly! Time's a wastin.”
“No. Enough is enough!” Celestia emphasized this point by stomping her hoof definitely in the turned dirt,. When this failed to elect any sort of emotion from her captor she began fidgeting nervously in her harness.”This is embarrassing to wear let alone be seen it.”
“Well u’l have to make do. I’m surprising we found something this this big and even more you had this in your room.”
What said was lost but something triggered the pale mare to light up bright pink which caused the others around him began whispering. This ended quickly when his gaze fell on them forcing them to back to work.
“Well what about Luna?” Celestia asked trying to change the subject.
“What does the moon have to do with plowing a field?”
“Not the moon, my sister!” She pointed her hoof to the far side of field where a dark alicorn being fanned under a rather tall tree.
“What about us dear sister?”
“Yes, what about her?” Cassidy asked
“Why is she exempt from...” She looked all round what was once her beautiful castle garden to her current wardrobe and standard plow accessory “...this?”
Cassidy once more let go of his plow to rub his fingers through his neatly trimmed beard. He did this for a few moments before removing his cap to wipe the sweat collecting along this brow before giving Celly the answer she didn’t want to hear.
“Because its simple rely.. I’d worked a farm nearly all me life and I know how a mare should look.” He donned his cap once more before grabbing the plow’s reigns and giving them a good whip. The wave was true and sailed along the reigns with enough power and speed to create a sharp CRACK once it hit Celestia’s flanks. The suddenness of it and the resulting sting caused her to yelp and against her will once more resume pulling the heavy plow.
“And THAT is not muscle there lass. Com on, we got till sun down to have this all plowed and planted.”With that final command the pair resumed the hard work laid before them as did everypony else.
It would be another several hours before the young mares known as the Elements of Harmony arrived and rushed to their princess’ aid. Princess Luna met them and explained the situation which didn’t sit well for them, especially for Rainbow Dash and Applejack. Another very impressive punch put the rainbow haired pony in her place while a quick bewildering and scolding to the farm pony about respecting her elders sent her running with her tail between her legs.
As for the others they kept their distance Cassidy noted except the overly eager purple one that kept asking him questions about his life and the farming techniques he was employing once her shock over Celly and her harness faded. This lasted until the sun went down and the relaxing moon came, rising high into the sky signalling the end of a hard day’s work.
Eventually Cassidy released the ponies under his ‘care’ and allowed them to return to their original duties. After some talks they moved his commode to another town of his choosing where he set up shop and built an exact replica of his favorite watering hole (name changed of course) Why eyes are always droopy.
Another first for Equestria whose ‘adult drinks’ were lacking and overnight caused good ol’ Cassidy to single handedly not only make alcoholic drinks the newest sensation but made him one of the richest and leading figures in Equestrian economics.
Still, none of this fame or wealth could change this oldy and to this day he can still be found tending to his land. It’s just a rumor and nopony can neither confirm nor deny if there’s any truth behind it but some ponies say that Princess Celestia herself visits his little farm, bring her ‘work harness’ with her.
Whoever claims this to be true are likely the very ones clinging to the grass to keep the world from spinning, and therefore their words should be taken with lightly.
…..
“Come on Celly, weir almost done with this row and than we can break by taking the hay cart to the barn.”
“Yes sir!”
Author's Note
I'm aware of the poorly written "accent" for Cassidy here but the story was written as a funny prompt for Write Club. Its not meant to be taken seriously. :)
