Peace Breakersby _Vidz_ChaptersEp. 1: A Warm Welcome: Ch. 1Ep. 1: A Warm Welcome: Ch. 2Ep. 2: Ground Rules: Ch. 1Ep. 2: Ground Rules: Ch. 2Ep. 3: Ol' McRobbers Had A Farm: Ch. 1Ep. 1: A Warm Welcome: Ch. 1Peace Breakers Episode 1: Chapter 1: A Warm Welcome The train whistle blows, and two stallions step out onto the wooden planks of the station. As it leaves, the stallions carry bags of luggage that are strapped around their waists. The tallest bears a cobalt-blue coat and short, neatly combed brown mane. His big glasses shield his gray eyes, and his attire is merely composed of a red, button-down polo. Beside him—his clearly shorter companion—a silver-coated, younger stallion with a longer, messy brown mane of a darker shade. As for his wardrobe, it only consists of a combination of a white shirt and a black jacket. The two of them turn to each other, wondering what their next step should be. . . “Okay, you walk in front of me for a second,” the taller stallion suggests. “What for?” the shorter stallion asks. “Just do it before I smack ya.” “Go ahead, do it then,” he taunts. “You know what, fine, I’ll do it myself.” The taller stallion walks a few paces ahead as his companion follows behind. “There, now that was the first step.” The shorter stallion shuts his eyes, taking a deep breath to calm himself. “Okay, how about I lead us?” He walks over to a sign displaying a map of the area that shows streets and village names. “Where you going?” “To look for a place for us to stop.” “I thought you said you were going to feed us.” Puzzled, the shorter stallion scratches his head. “I ‘never’ said I was going to feed us. . . Now, I’m going to look for directions, and you wait there for a minute.” “One . . . two . . . three—” “Will you stop counting?!” “I’ll only stop counting if you stop pouting.” “Yeah, alright. . .” The shorter stallion examines the map, ignoring anything else his companion might have to say. “Okay . . . It looks like the nearest town is called ‘Ponyville’—” “Stop.” The taller stallion reaches out his hoof. “Did you say ‘Ponyville’?” “No, I said Donkeytown. Yes, I said Ponyville!” “Do you think we’ll find ponies there?” “. . . You know what, Rum, we might. We just might.” “Well, I guess that was obvious, but do you think we’ll find any villes?” “Only one. . . That would be Ponyville.” “So, let me get this straight. There’s a ville.” “Uh-huh.” “With ponies in it.” “Yuh-huh.” “And it’s called Ponyville.” “That’s correct.” “Am I losing my mind?” “I’ve been asking myself that since the first day we met.” Rum smiles, and claps his hooves ever so slowly. Rolling his eyes, the shorter stallion begins his trek to Ponyville with Rum following by his side. They soon reach the end of the path to a big sign that reads: Welcome to Ponyville, then gaze out at the wide open view of the town. The sun alights the village, giving it a sort of comforting glow. Ponies fill the streets, and laughter echoes to the stallions’ ears. “Gee,” the shorter stallion begins as he and Rum explore the streets of Ponyville. Glancing at the various food stands and cottages. “This place seems a lot different than back home.” “Yeah, I haven’t had the need to look over my shoulder. And it’s starting to get sore there.” “I’m telling you, if we run into some spazzy, loud and obnoxious pony; I’m going to go back to the train station.” Suddenly, they stop dead in their tracks as they notice a pony cut in front of them. A bright-pink mare with a wild and poofy mane of a darker shade passes them by. They watch, examining the absurdity of her mane until she is completely out of sight. “. . . So, yeah, let’s hurry up and try to find someplace to stay.” “Can’t it wait? I’m tired from being on the train all morning.” “That’s why we need someplace TO STAY!” The shorter stallion raises his voice, causing many of the townsponies to gawk in his direction. “I can help!” A cheerful voice shouts from behind the shorter stallion. He jolts and whips around in surprise to find the pink mare from earlier standing before him. She bears a smile that stretches from ear to ear, making him feel a bit uneasy. “Woah there, lady,” Rum begins. “If you open your mouth any wider, I’m afraid your jaw might fall off.” “My jaw won’t fall off; it’s attached to my face, silly!” “Have you ever sailed a ship?” “What does that have to do with anything?!” the shorter stallion interjects. “I just want to know if she has a boat called, ‘The Obvious’.” “I don’t have a boat, but I want a boat!” says the pink mare. “I’d take all my friends on boat rides!” “Yeah, and I can be your first mate!” Rum nudges the shorter stallion with his elbow. “Anyway, now that we’re done talking about boats and . . . mates, you said you can help us find a place to stay?” “Oh, yeah! We have a great hotel here in Ponyville! But first, allow me to introduce myself!” The pink mare hops and skips in a circle around them, singing a tune at a rapid pace that particularly rattles the shorter stallion’s ears. “Hey! My name is Pinkie Pie; welcome to my home town! It’s a place where nopony can cry, pout or frown!” “Hey,” Rum whispers to his companion. “Watch this.” He then forms the biggest frown he can, and widens his eyes as he gazes at Pinkie Pie. However, as she’s too invested in her song and dance, she doesn’t even notice Rum’s ridiculous face. “It’s Ponyville! The place that I adore! So, come with me; and you will see, it’s the perfect place to be!” She tosses a bundle of multi-colored confetti that rains down on the two of them. Pinkie Pie stands before them with that same big smile, awaiting a response. The shorter stallion, bearing an unamused face, turns away and attempts to leave. Rum grabs him by his jacket and pulls him back to his side. After shooting him with a serious glare, the shorter stallion sighs. “Thank you, Pinkie Pie, for that wonderful song,” says the shorter stallion in a sarcastic tone. “This is Rum, and—” “And you are?!” “. . . Ale, my name is Ale.” “Well, it’s the most pleasurable of pleasures to meet you Rum and Ale! So, onward to the hotel! Just so you know, renting a room costs about 120 bits for—” “Ahh!” Rum freaks. “Ahh! Why are we shouting?!” “We uh . . . we’re a bit short on bits.” “Oohh . . . well, what do you two do for a living? Ponyville is filled with opportunities!” “We’re homele—” Ale pokes at Rum’s side to get his attention, beckoning him to lean closer so he can whisper in his ear. “Rum,” Ale begins. “You can’t just tell her that we’re homeless.” “Why not?” “Because if you do, then what kind of job are we gonna get? Nopony’s gonna want to hire some homeless nonames.” “So, then what do I tell her we do?” “I don’t know, just make something up. Something that’ll guarantee us a job.” “Got it.” Rum looks back up at Pinkie Pie. “We happen to be professional bakers from Manehattan!” Immediately, Ale can feel his heart sink. He pulls Rum back down to whisper to him, filling with anxiety. “Baking?! Why baking?!” “I-I don’t know! It’s the first thing I thought of!” “That’s fantastic!” Pinkie Pie cheers. “Really?” The both of them ask in unison. “Yup! I know just the place!” Ep. 1: A Warm Welcome: Ch. 2Peace Breakers Episode One: Chapter Two Rum and Ale are guided to a big cottage resembling that of a gingerbread house. The walls are brown as shortbread, and are lined with a frosting-like design. The both of them glance to each other in confusion as Pinkie Pie prances around the doorstep. “And here we are!” she cheers. “Welcome to my humble abode, Sugarcube Corner!” “You . . . live in a cookie?” Ale asks. “Hey, it fits,” Rum whispers to Ale. “It’s a cookie house for a kooky pony.” “I know! Isn’t it great?!” Pinkie Pie reiterates. “This is the bakery owned by Mr. and Mrs. Cake, and they are going to be the ones to hire you for the job. Also, if everything goes well, you two could possibly rent out a couple guest rooms!” “So your bakery doubles as an apartment complex?” Ale asks. “Well, look on the bright side, Ale,” says Rum. “At least you get breakfast in bed.” “Ugh, don’t tell me the beds are brownies and the pillows are marshmallows.” “Of course not. The beds are made out of sponge cake, and the pillows are cotton candy!” Pinkie Pie assures. “Yeah, Ale, don’t be stupid,” says Rum. “You know what, you’re right. I’ve doing it all wrong. I should’ve traded in my flapjack bed for a large brownie instead. Please, accept my apology.” “Apology accepted. Lucky for you ‘one’ of us has some common sense around here.” “I’m flattered, honestly. You can be so kind sometimes with the things you say about me.” “Yeah, you should hear the things I say about you behind you back.” Ale smiles and grinds his teeth. “Yup, the fun we have. . .” “Come on, you guys. I’ll introduce you to the Cakes.” The three of them enter the bakery, and are immediately hit with a strong smell of sweetness and sugar. Just like the outside, the inside of the diner is decorated with the same sugary features. Candy cane support beams along with peppermint tables assure Ale’s suspicions of how far the ‘candy’ concept went into this structure. “Are those the cakes?” Rum asks, pointing to a couple of cakes resting on the checkout counter. “Yeah, Rum, go ask ‘em for a job.” “Gladly!” “Umm . . . well—” Pinkie Pie attempts to interrupt. Rum approaches the counter where to cakes lie. “Hello, my name is Rum. I’m a world famous super-duper baker pony, and I’d like a job at this bakery made of bakery. . .” He lays his elbow onto the countertop as he waits for a response. “Oh . . . giving me the silent treatment eh? Think this restaurant’s too good for me eh?!” “Alright, Rum, calm down,” says Ale nervously. “Well, what do you think of ‘this’?!” Rum slaps the cake off of the counter as it flies through the air. Rum turns and sees that both Pinkie Pie and Ale’s faces are now covered in chocolate cake. “Oh . . . my bad. In my defense, since the whole building is made out of pastries, I figured the owners were too.” “You—” Ale wipes the cake from his face. “—have got to be—” “A genious!” Pinkie Pie exclaims as she gathers a large lump of cake off of her face. “That is a fun, new way to eat cake! Let me try!” Pinkie Pie hurries over to the counter with the last remaining cake near Rum. “Hold on, you can’t be—” “Heads up, Ale!” Pinkie Pie launches the last cake into Ale’s face, recoating him with a mix of chocolate and yellow cake. “Of course, why didn’t I see it coming?” Ale mumbles as he furiously wipes the cake off of his face once again. “Because you were too busy being a sourpuss,” says Rum as he tosses a sour candy into his mouth. “Okay, Pinkie Pie, why does ‘he’ get to ruin your cakes and eat your candy?” “I’m not ‘ruining’ her cakes, I’m teaching her new and exciting ways to eat. Just like the fancy chef that I am.” “Celestia. . .” Ale looks up to the ceiling. “Please, help me.” “Okay, now allow me to get Mr. and Mrs. Cake. Just give me a moment.” Pinkie Pie clears her throat. “Mr. and Mrs. Cake!” she yells at the top of her lungs, shattering both Rum and Ale’s ears. “What is it, Pinkie?!” Two voices call from above. “I found two stallions looking for a job!” “Oh, perfect! We’re getting behind on orders!” “So is that a yes?!” “What?! Yes! Hold on, let’s get them started!” “Wait! I wanna give them their orientation!” “Are . . . Are you sure?!” “Yeah! I’ve got this under control!” “Well . . . okay!” “Oh, and they need a place to stay! Is it okay if I show them the guest rooms afterwards?!” “W-What?!” “Thank you!” Pinkie Pie turns back to Ale and Rum. “She said it’s okay! Now, let’s see what you bakers can do!” Rum then leans over to Ale. “I’m really starting to like this filly,” Rum whispers. “Allow me to show you two the kitchen!” Pinkie Pie leads Rum and the dirtied Ale into the kitchen, where everything isn’t made of sugary sweets for a change. “Now, all you two have to do is simple. Just whip us up a batch of the best treats you can!” “Uhh. . .” Ale raises his hoof. “I have a—” “Good luck!” Pinkie Pie smiles. She exits the kitchen, leaving Rum and Ale to their own devices. “—few . . . questions.” Ale finishes. Rum and Ale glance to each other troublingly, wondering what they should do next. They walk around examining all the different baking tools, unsure of what exactly each device does. “Well, this is great. Now we gotta cook something, and we don’t have the slightest idea of how to cook!” Ale shouts. “I think the first step is: we need proper chef’s hats,” says Rum. “No, it’s not. We need to come up with something fast, or we can kiss this job goodbye!” “If that happens, I’m going to be the one kissing her goodbye, not you.” “Listen, Chef Charming, how about instead of focusing on the mare, we focus on baking?!” “Do you really think I’m charming?” “I’d be lying if I said I did.” “Well, that doesn’t sound that hard for you considering you lie all the time.” “Oh please, name one time I’ve lied.” “You’d like me to answer that question wouldn’t you?” “No, because we’d be here forever since there is no answer.” “Only a Sith deals in absolutes.” “Stop quoting Pony-Wan Kenobi and find a recipe book! There’s gotta be one somewhere!” “We don’t need a recipe book, all we need is the chef’s hat and a bright idea!” “I’d sooner believe you’d pull a chef’s hat out of nowhere than one of those.” “I love how supportive you always are.” “Rum, please, I’m begging you. For once, could you please just help me out here?” “What do you think I’m doing?” He asks, grabbing a box labeled ‘cake mix’ from a cupboard. “We’re going to make cupcakes. Now Ale, here’s what I want you to do. I want you to find the cups.” “You mean tray, I’m pretty sure you make cupcakes in a tray.” “What the hay are you talking about? We’re not making tray cakes.” “Celestia. . .” Ale gazes back up to the ceiling. “From the bottom of my heart, save me.” Ale turns away from Rum, rummaging through the drawers and cabinets for a recipe book. Rum spots a stack of plastic cups on the nearby countertop, sparking an idea. “So, are you going to help with these cakes?” “No, Rum, what ‘I’m’ going to do, is I’m going to save us by trying to make some ‘proper’ cakes. You go ahead and do . . . whatever. I’ll just have to get us out of this mess,” says Ale without even turning to look at Rum. “Oh, going to make some ‘proper’ cakes.” Rum mocks quietly as he tears open a box of cake mix furiously. He grumbles as he pours the mix into several assorted plastic cups he set up on the countertop. “Hey, Ale, help me with these ‘tray cakes’.” Ale quietly mocks as he pushes aside an assortment of bowels and pots in the bottom cabinets. “And they’re going to expect ‘us’ to bake something. . . What am I going to do?” Ale pulls open a drawer, and takes a breath of relief as soon as he reads the words, ‘recipe book’. He pulls out a big, brown cook book and immediately flips through the pages. He scans each page until his eyes are caught by a set of directions for a recipe of rather scrumptious-looking brownies. “Okay.” Ale sighs. “It’s just brownies, how difficult can this be. . ? I probably shouldn’t say that. Every time I do, something ends up going wrong.” Ale glances over his shoulder to Rum who is preparing something. He can’t quite make it out as his back is in the way. “Well, if I mess this up, maybe—just maybe—Rum’s won’t be . . . horrific.” Rum mixes together a concoction of cake mix, water, sugar and chocolate chips in each individual cup. He lays them all onto a metal sheet, and slides them into the oven. “Now, a professional would want to get this done as quickly as possible. So, the only solution would be to just turn up the heat a little.” Rum grabs the knob of the oven and turns it all the way to ‘high’. Rum gazes at the cupcakes through the little window in the oven door, quickly becoming impatient and fidgety. “Hmm . . . I’m going to need whip cream.” He then makes his way to the fridge, pulling open the big white door releasing a rush of cool air. Ale goes down the list of ingredients needed for the brownie recipe, struggling to understand just how he’s going to have to utilize all of it. “Let’s see . . . eggs, sugar, flour . . . vanilla extract. . ? What does that even mean? Do I have to . . . extract the vanilla? I-I don’t get this.” Ale can feel sweat forming at the base of his forehead, and the temperature in the room has suddenly gotten warmer. Assuming it’s just his nerves getting to him, he proceeds to gather the rest of the ingredients. He follows every direction, measuring every ingredient by the book. Feeling a confidence building inside of him, his worries begin to dwindle. With his mixture poured into a tray, he gets ready to set it into the oven. Grabbing the handle of the oven, Rum whips around the whip cream gripped in his teeth. “Hold on a minute!” Rum calls. Upon whipping himself around, the can of cream flies through the air and knocks Ale on the head. He stumbles backward, slipping on the mess of cake mix and water Rum had made on the floor. Ale falls flat on his back, and the brownie batter coats his upper torso. “Ooohhh. . .” Rum’s eyes widen with surprise. Ale drops the metal tray to wipe the batter from his eyes, taking an enraged deep breath as he gets back up to his hooves. “. . . Rum?” Ale calmly begins. “Yes, Ale?” “Do you think you can get me a cup of water, and a bag of flour?” “Is there a reason you’re always asking me for favors?” “You know, you’re right. I’ll just get it myself.” Ale grabs one of the spare plastic cups from the counter, and fills it to the brim with sink water. He picks up the bag of flour he used for his brownie mix, and carries the two items back with him. The two of them stare at each other in silence for a moment. With the cup of water, Ale splashes it onto Rum’s face. As he drips wet, Ale follows it up by hurling the bag of flour so hard that the impact busts it open. Rum stands frozen, scrunching his face as the slimy concoction covers him. “Of course you know, this means war.” In a flash, Rum gallops to a little table with a large plate of freshly made cupcakes. He topples it, using it as a barricade as he hurls cupcake after cupcake towards Ale. Like bullets they relentlessly strike him as he attempts to guard himself with his forelegs. Ale desperately makes his way to the fridge, opening the door to shield him from the onslaught of cupcakes. Rum halts his fire with a cupcake in hoof, waiting for him peek out. Moments of silence pass until a barrage of eggs are fired in Rum’s direction. Ale peers around the door to throw each egg with as much force as he can. Many hit the table, but as soon as one pelts Rum in the cheek as the yolk explodes over his face, he immediately hides to protect himself. “No thanks! I’m a tank!” Rum taunts as he carefully inches his table barricade to the fridge. Nearing Ale, he needs to think of something fast as he can’t land any egg shots like this. As soon as he is just close enough, Rum plans out his next attack. However, he can feel a rush of cold liquid pouring over his head as Ale leans over holding a jug of milk over him. Infuriated, Rum jumps up to shove Ale into the fridge and quickly slams the door shut. Rum leans his back onto the door to keep him trapped inside, filling with the pride of securing his victory. However, with just how quick he filled with pride, he fills with fear as Pinkie Pie and two other ponies enter the kitchen. Each of them scan the kitchen in pure awe of the mess. “What. . .” the mare begins. “What ha—” The oven door then bursts open with flames, sending the charred mess Rum had made splattering over the opposite wall. They all scream as the flames grow higher, and Pinkie Pie rushes to the wall to retrieve a fire extinguisher behind a glass case. She smothers the flame in the white foam, then leaves the destroyed oven with wide eyes. Rum’s eyes dart from the three ponies to the mess they made, realizing the consequences are about to take form. Rum carefully opens the fridge door a tad. “Ale, we gotta—” Before Rum can finish, Ale bursts out from the fridge sending Rum to the ground. Crazily, he nonsensically screams as he hurls a large, rectangular birthday cake with the word ‘surprise’ written across it with frosting. The cake splatters over the three ponies, and Ale’s heart quickly sinks. Rum looks up at them, as a smile comes upon his face. Soon, he begins chuckling, and the chuckling becomes full-on laughter. Ale, unsure as to why, laughs as well. Pinkie Pie’s eyes nervously dart to Mr. and Mrs. Cake as she too joins in the laughter. Rum pounds the floor as he is overtaken by his laughter, and Ale laughs and shrugs as he looks at Mr. and Mrs. Cake. However, their faces grow furious, and unlike the other two, Ale can feel the fear slipping back in. “Miss Twilight Sparkle!” Mrs. Cake greets from the doorstep. “Please, Mrs. Cake, you can just call me Twilight.” “Oh, yes of course!” “Umm, I hope you don’t mind me asking, but what exactly happened to you three?” “Oohh, we just had a little mess in the kitchen is all.” “I see, so how can I help you today? Was there another cookbook you were looking to find?” “You know, I’m so glad you asked! Although I’m not looking for a cookbook this time around.” “Oh, well, what is it you needed?” “Pinkie Pie just happened to come across a couple of lost stallions in town, and they needed a place to stay, somewhere to work. . .” “I see. . .” “Now, we ‘could’ have offered them these things. But, you know, we don’t have any room—” “But I thought—” Pinkie Pie attempts to speak, but is quickly silenced by Mrs. Cake’s hoof. “Anyway,” Mrs. Cake continues. “We were hoping that perhaps ‘you’ wouldn’t mind taking them in for us!” “Oh! I-I don’t know. I mean, my library doesn’t really have any guest rooms or—” “Oh, please Miss Twilight! These two could really use your hospitality. Otherwise, they have nowhere else to go, and will have to sleep in the streets! They have not a single bit to their names!” “Well. . . I’m sure I could arrange something.” “Fantastic!” Mrs. Cake hurriedly pushes Rum and Ale through the doorway and into her home as they clutch their bags. They and Twilight lock eyes as Mrs. Cake rambles. “This is Rum, and this is Ale! I’m sure they will be eternally thankful to you for this—I know I am!” “W-Wait, wha—?” “Thank you again Miss Twilight! So long!” With big smiles, Mr. and Mrs. Cake along with Pinkie Pie gallop away from Twilight’s home. Trying to grasp the situation, Twilight turns and looks at Rum and Ale as they confusedly stand next to each other with their bags. “Well, that was fun,” says Rum. “Who wants cake?” Ep. 2: Ground Rules: Ch. 1Episode Two: Ground Rules: Chapter 1 Twilight, Rum and Ale continuously glance back and forth at each other unsure of where to go from here. Twilight nervously clears her throat, and tries to handle the situation that’s been thrust upon her. “Well . . . welcome to my home, The Golden Oaks Library. My name is Twilight Sparkle, and—forgive me—but I’m going to need to get your names again.” “I’m Beer, and this is Booze,” says Rum. “Umm . . . I don’t think that’s—” “Then why did you ask us?!” Rum shouts, exasperated. “W-Wha—I-I—” “Rum, honestly? Do you have to be this way twenty-four seven?” “Hey!” Rum shouts. “The convenience store of Rum is open all hours, where all jokes are only one bit!” “Yeah, limited supplies last.” Ale then turns to Twilight. “I’m Ale, and this is Rum.” “Oh, okay.” Twilight now relieved. “Well, it’s nice to meet you both. If you don’t mind me asking, what was all that about earlier? Between you and the Cakes.” “Which cakes?” Rum asks. “The food items, or Big Butt and Scarecrow?” “Uhh, that’s—” “What he MEANT to say!” Ale immediately cuts off Twilight as he steps in front of Rum with a big, nervous smile across his face. “Yeah, what did he mean to say, Ale?” Rum intimidates. Ale whips around to glare intensely at Rum, who’s holding a hay-eating grin. “I think I’ve heard enough,” says Twilight. “Clearly, you two should just take your bags and—” “Twilight! What’s going on?” Rum and Ale turn to see a little, purple dragon walking down the set of stairs behind them. He rubs his eyes as if he’s just been woken up, and notices the three of them standing in the middle of the room. “Oh, we’ve got company.” “Oh my Celestia! Dragon!” Rum yells, pointing his hoof. Ale turns, quickly filling with anxiety as his eyes are met with the horrifying sight of the deadly lizard. “Ahh! Kill it before it eats us!” Ale cries. Both he and Ale rush towards the dragon. Ale, flailing his forelegs wildly and Rum on the verge of bucking the little dragon. Both Twilight’s and the dragon’s eyes widen with fear as the attackers gallop across the floor on a bloodlust. As the dragon shields himself with his arms, Rum and Ale suddenly find themselves unable to move. They are enveloped by a pinkish aura, and are frozen in place as the dragon takes a breath of relief. “Have you two lost your minds?!” Twilight asks as she walks towards the frozen stallions. “This is my friend, Spike! And you two were just about to attack him!” “Wait! You don’t understand!” Rum cries. “It was just a joke, you see? Just a joke!” “Just a joke? He could’ve gotten hurt!” “I’m sorry! We didn’t mean it!” “Please, Miss Sparkle! It’s our fault! We were just scared is all!” Ale begs. “W-We were just afraid for our lives!” “Well, that doesn’t excuse your complete lack of respect and courtesy to the ponies around you. Especially after what you said about Mr. and Mrs. Cake.” “No! Please, forgive me!” Rum begs. “Yes! Please, forgive him!” Ale adds. “No, forgive ‘us’! W-We don’t know any better! Please, don’t kick us out! We have nowhere else to go!” “We’ll have to go out in the street again!” “Kick ‘em out! Kick ‘em out!” Spike urges in a low voice. “Well. . .” Twilight raises an eyebrow, pondering to herself. “Please, Miss Sparkle,” Ale continues to plead. “We’ll do anything to make it up to you! W-We can be better ponies! We swear!” “Hmm. . .” The aura around Rum and Ale vanishes, and they both fall painfully to the floor. They rub their heads in agony as they look up with Twilight towering over them. “Fine, I won’t kick you two out.” “Yes!” Rum and Ale cheer in unison as they each grab on of Twilight’s hooves while still laying on the floor. “Thank you, Miss Sparkle!” says Ale. “Yeah! This means a lot!” Rum adds. “However!” Twilight begins as their smiles quickly disappear. “You can only stay under one condition.” “Name it! We’ll do anything!” says Ale. “Well—” Rum attempts to interject, but is immediately punched in his side by Ale. “The condition is: you can only stay here if you promise to ‘learn’ how to be better ponies.” “Easy! We can do that!” Ale celebrates. “Shouldn’t be too hard to figure out.” “And I’m going to be teaching you two how. I’ve been studying friendship for quite some—” “Uugghh.” Rum groans. Twilight glares directly into Rum’s eyes as he—realizing he’s made a mistake—covers his mouth with his hooves. “I’ve been studying friendship for quite some time, and I feel like this is a perfect opportunity to share what I’ve learned. This may even prove to be a valuable learning experience for all of us. All you two have to do, is follow my instructions.” “Whatever you say, Miss Sparkle. We’ll do it,” Ale assures as Rum simply nods his head with his hooves still covering his mouth. “Great! Because your first lesson begins now.” “Oh . . . well, what is it?” “I want you two to apologize to Spike.” Rum and Ale turn to Spike who is patiently waiting with his arms crossed. They get up from the floor, reluctant to take a step forward. “I-I don’t wanna,” says Rum. “He looks angry.” Twilight sighs, trying to sustain her patience. “Yes,” she begins. “That’s because you attacked him, and if you’re going to start making friends, you should apologize when you hurt somepony else’s feelings . . . or attempt to actually hurt ‘somepony’ in this case.” “Okay. . .” Rum moans. He inches closer to the dragon, still fearful. “I’m . . . I’m sorry for trying to kick you to death.” “Yeah, well—” Spike attempts to speak. “Ahh! He’s yelling at me!” Rum shrieks. “That’s a sign he’s going to attack! Ale save me!” He turns and leaps into the air towards Ale. “Wait, what?!” Ale shouts as he watches the incoming Rum hurdle towards him. Without any time to react, the two of them collide and tumble over the floor; fighting and shouting nonsensically to each other. Twilight presses her hoof onto her forehead as a headache ensues. “This is going to be impossible.” Ep. 2: Ground Rules: Ch. 2Episode 2: Ground Rules: Chapter 2 Twilight, Ale and Rum are sitting on a wooden bench near a public park, filled with families tossing Frisbees and frolicking about. She had simply said they would go for a walk before their lesson began, and spoke nothing of what her plan would uphold. “I want a haydog,” says Rum. “Why are you always hungry? You fat lard,” Ale asks as he rolls his eyes. “I’m not fat. I’m just big, and I’ve got a lot of room in there.” “Yeah, and there’s apparently a lot of room in your head too.” Rum tilts his head, desperately searching for a way to retort. “Yeah, you got nothin’.” “Will you two please stop the arguing?” Twilight intervenes. “That’s not the reason we came here.” “Then why did we come here? To sit around and stalk these families while they play with their children? That’s messed up Miss Sparkle.” “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Rum asks. “Maybe ‘you’re’ the sick one.” “You know what? You’re going to get real sick of me smacking—!” “I’m already sick of you!” “Rum!” Twilight raises her voice. “Will you stop egging him on?” “It’s okay Miss Sparkle, he doesn’t know what he’s doing,” says Ale. “And Ale. . .” “Oh, what did I do?” “You need to stop starting these arguments.” “. . . But he’s still lardy.” “Twilight, he’s hurting my feelings,” says Rum. “Alright!” Twilight shouts, losing her patience. “Clearly, if I’m going to be teaching you two anything, you can’t be near each other. Because neither of you can behave yourselves when you’re together.” “You sound just like the mother that left me when I was little,” says Ale. Both Twilight and Rum look to Ale with stunned expressions on their faces. “I . . . I don’t—” Suddenly, Rum bursts out with uncontrollable laughter. Flaring his forelegs in their air and leaning back against the bench, Twilight glares in his direction as his laughter slowly comes to an end. “Well then, I think it’d be best if we move away from that subject for now and focus on the lesson I’ve prepared for you two.” “Alright, fine.” says Rum. “Now, I’m going to teach you two how to make good first impressions. This time, without violence or insults.” “Easy.” As soon as Rum and Ale stand up to leave, Twilight holds out her hooves to stop them. “No, one at a time. Rum, you go first. Just walk up to somepony, anypony, and introduce yourself in a calm, collected and courteous manner.” Rum leaves the bench, scouting for somepony to meet. His eyes lock onto a young filly sniffing a flower. He puts on the biggest smile he possibly can, and approaches the filly. She notices the large shadow enveloping her, and turns her head to see Rum with his rows of teeth and wide eyes. “Why, hello there little filly,” he mutters. Instantly, she screams and gallops as fast as she can away from him back to her parents. They glare at him as they cradle their daughter. “How you folks doing?” The parents shake their heads, and leave the park. Rum returns to Twilight and Ale, shrugging. “I don’t see what I did wrong. I was only doing what you told me.” “Okay, but you don’t just walk up to some filly and . . . never mind. Ale, why don’t you try?” “I’ve got this,” says Ale, getting up from the bench. He notices an elderly mare sitting at another bench, and decides to approach her. However, he quickly finds that she’s in fact napping, and is unsure of how to get her attention without doing something wrong. “Pardon me, Ma’am?” Instead of waking, the mare continues to snore. “Ma’am? Hello?” He attempts again, but still is met without a response. “I bet she’s just dead. . . Wait a minute. . . DEAD?!” Ale begins to panic, and screams into the mare’s ear. “Ma’am! Are you dead?! Stay away from the light!” She awakens in a frenzy, grasping her walker and swinging it in Ale’s direction. “Who’s there?! Stay away from me!” She shouts as she whacks Ale repeatedly with her walker. “Ma’am! Stop! Please!” He begs as he is brought to his knees by her relentless onslaught. He scrambles to his hooves and gallops away, but is chased through the park by the surprisingly fast, old mare. “Help! Guys, help!” He yells as he gallops towards Twilight and Rum. “Get back here you hooligan!” The mare demands. “Maybe we should take this lesson somewhere else. Run!” Twilight and Rum join Ale in the gallop out of the park, with the mare still close behind. “Why isn’t she giving up?!” “I don’t . . .” Rum ponders. “Wait . . . it’s not US she wants!” Rum trips Ale, causing him to crash and tumble onto the dirt road. “Why did you do that?!” “It’s survival of the fittest, Twilight!” As Ale coughs from the clouds of dirt his body kicked up, he watches the insane mare burst through the cloud and loom over him. She raises her walker, ready to strike as Ale yelps at the top of his lungs. A pinkish aura coats Ale’s jacket, and he is dragged across the dirt road away from the mare’s walker as she slams it onto the ground. Twilight reels Ale in with her magic as she and Rum continue to gallop down the road dragging him behind. “That’s right! You better run!” The mare shouts as she shakes her hoof in the air. “You ain’t gonna convince me to buy no cookies!” The three of them manage to escape, coming to a walk to regain their breath. “Well,” Twilight begins. “I guess we’ll have to hold off on this lesson for a—” “No way,” says Rum. “I’ve failed you, Twilight, but I’m not ready to give up yet. I see just the pony I’m ready to introduce myself too.” “Really? Who’s that?” “Him, right over there.” Rum points to a rugged, filthy stallion with a beanie and scruffy beard who’s digging through a garbage can in an alley. “He looks like he could use a friend.” “Uhh, I’m not too sure if he’s the right pony to—” “Don’t worry, I know what I’m doing.” “I don’t think he looks like a hugger, Rum,” says Ale. “I knew a pony named Hugger.” “. . . What happened to him?” Twilight asks. “He tried giving a bear an actual ‘bear-hug’. . . In memory of Hugger, I’m going in.” “Be strong, Rum,” says Ale. “W-Wait, you still shouldn’t. . .” Ignoring her advice, Rum proceeds to approach the shady stallion. “Rum! Are you nuts?!” Rum nears the stallion who has his head buried in the garbage can. “Hey buddy,” says Rum, startling the stallion. “Huh?! Wha—who are you?” The stallion asks, now agitated. “Give me a kiss.” “What in the—?” “Shh . . . this is our moment.” As Rum leans in, the stallion grabs the garbage can lid and smacks him dead in the face. “Stay away from me you freak!” “Ahh! You sound just like the wife that left me!” Rum screams as he gallops away. “That’s right! You’d better run!” The day passes, and nighttime settles in. Twilight, exhausted from her seemingly endless string of failures, enters her home with her head hanging low. “Whew! What a day!” says Rum, stretching out his legs as he enters the library. “I think we had a very successful day today.” “Yeah, we met so many new ponies today,” says Ale. “I think we’re getting the hang of this whole ‘lesson thing’.” “No! You’re not!” Twilight fumes. Rum and Ale’s smiles disappear as they gaze into Twilight’s glare. “You two haven’t learned anything from my lesson! Instead you terrified a child, infuriated an old mare, disturbed some random stallion, and forced the fruit stand to close early for the day because you kept harassing the owner!” “I was just asking him a simple question,” says Rum. “No, you kept asking him if he sold fruit! At a fruit stand! For hours!” “You see, Twilight, he just—” “Stop. Stop right there, because I don’t want to hear anymore. You two have ruined so many ponies’ days with your games, and neither of you seem to be taking this lesson seriously!” “C’mon, Miss Sparkle—” Ale attempts to speak. “No! No . . . I’ve had enough for today. I need some serious rest if I’m going to recover from this. I’m not even sure if this is even worth the trouble you two have caused. Either I’m a terrible teacher who can’t even teach you anything on the first lesson, or you two are just unteachable!” Twilight storms off, as Rum and Ale turn to each other guiltily. “Just for the record,” Rum begins. “This is all your fault.” “You know, I’m not even going to argue with you right now. Thanks to us, she’s upset now. I hope you’re happy with that.” “Well, I tried. Plus, she didn’t kick us out yet, so I think it’s a win for us.” “Do you know what?” “What?” Ale then pokes Rum in his chest. “Ah! What was that for?” Ale pokes Rum in his chest once more. “Can you stop?” Ale pokes him again, and Rum attempts to poke him back. Ale grabs his hoof to stop him, but proceeds to push his hoof towards him. The both of them struggle to poke each other first, desperately wrestling with each other. They strain as they are brought to the ground, and Spike finds them as he climbs down the stairs. “Uhh . . . what are you two doing?” he asks. “We’re trying to poke each other hard!” “. . . Got it. I’m just gonna go back upstairs.” Spike leaves Ale and Rum to their little quarrel, and finds Twilight in her bedroom laying flat on her back on her bed. “Hey Twilight, how’d it go?” “Not very good, Spike.” “Yeah, I figured.” “What are they doing now?” “Trying to poke each other hard. . . Whatever that means.” “Ugh. . . What am I going to do, Spike?” Twilight rubs her eyes. “You could always just kick them out.” “I can’t Spike. These two need to learn the aspects of friendship.” “But aren’t they friends?” “I don’t even know, because they sure don’t act like it.” Twilight sighs. “All the more reason these two need my help. If I can just show them what true friendship is all about, maybe all the insults and arguing can stop. . . And everypony else won’t be giving us dirty looks in the streets.” “Well, it was only the first day. Maybe tomorrow will be better.” Spike then climbs into his little sleeping casket. “But if it was just the first day, and it was ‘this’ bad, then tomorrow can only be. . . Oh, I can only hope it’s not,” she mutters to herself. Ep. 3: Ol' McRobbers Had A Farm: Ch. 1Episode 3: Ol' McRobbers Had A Farm: Chapter 1 With Twilight and Spike holed up in their bedroom, Ale and Rum pace around the room wondering how they’re going to get to sleep tonight. “Hey, Rum?” Ale asks. “Now, Ale, you don’t have to say anything,” says Rum. “I know what you’re thinking.” “Uhh. You do?” “Yes, you’re thinking that we really messed up, and Twilight probably hates us. But I’ll tell ya, it’s not that bad. She only hates you.” “. . . I’m just not even going to keep this going. What I was ‘going’ to say, was that Twilight never showed us where the guest rooms are.” Rum shrugs. “Well, she probably expects us to find our own place to sleep around here.” “Shouldn’t we just . . . go up and ask?” “Well, we can’t just go up and ask her. Ugh, the whole situation just has me floored.” Rum falls face first onto the floor, with his voice now muffled. “Goodnight.” “Fine, I’ll go ask her.” Ale turns and grabs the banister with the intent of climbing the stairs, but instead stands frozen. Overcome with uneasiness, and the idea that he could possibly anger her even more so, he turns back around. “Actually, I guess we might as well just sleep down here.” Ale grabs a stack of books out from one of the shelves carved into the wood of the walls, and lays them down so that he can rest his head as if they were a pillow. As the chirping of crickets sneaks in through the windows, and the moonlight coating a sliver of the living room, Ale restlessly turns over on the floor and trying to get his head comfortable on the stack of books. However, it isn’t the uncomfortable position that is keeping him awake. “Rum? You awake?” He whispers. “No,” says Rum as his voice overtakes the sound of the crickets. “Can’t get to sleep either, huh?” “I don’t know what you’re talking about. That sounds like a ‘you’ problem. I’m asleep.” “No, seriously.” “You know, Ale, this may come as a surprise to you, but I do actually feel kinda bad for how today went. . . And also, this floor is hard and cold.” “Yeah, I was just thinking the same thing.” “About the floor?” “No!” Ale impulsively raises his voice, then covers his mouth out of fear of waking Twilight. Rum leans up with his eyes wide, surprised by the shift in Ale’s voice. “No,” he then lowers voice. “I meant about feeling bad that we just ruined Twilight’s day. She’s only trying to help us, and now she probably has no faith in us. And you know what that means.” Rum sighs, and turns away from Ale with his head back down onto the floor. “This is starting to feel like the time Mom and Dad kicked me out.” “I thought you told me you left your parents?” “No, that was my girlfriend.” “Girlfriend? I don’t remember this, when did this happen?” “It happened when your Mom left your Dad.” Ale, without a word, grabs one of the books he’s been laying on. Winds up, and throws it, hitting Rum in the back of his head. Rum rubs the back of his head. “You know, I knew I’d get the book thrown at me one of these days, but I never thought it’d be like this.” “Can we try to take this seriously? We both feel bad, at least I ‘think’ you do, so we should do something about it.” “What could ponies like us possibly do for a pony like her?” “I don’t know, but we need to come up with something. Something to show her that we actually do care. I mean, she’s letting us stay in her house for Celestia’s sake.” “But I don’t care.” Ale grabs another book, and throws it at Rum. It nails him on the back of the head again, and he grunts as he rubs his head. “Ah! Alright, I actually do care a little bit.” “Thank you. Now, we gotta come up with some way to cheer her up.” “Let’s go up there and sing her a song.” “You know, I’ve got a nice, thick book of poems here. It feels like a good seven-hundred pages, hardcover.” Looking at Ale as he weighs the book in his hoof, he feels intimidated by the size of the book. “Well, what do you think we should do, Mister Book-a-pult?” “I’m thinking that maybe we should . . . prepare breakfast for her in the morning!” “It’s times like these I remember why I keep you around.” “Why? You think it’s a good idea?” “Oh yeah. I think it’s brilliant.” “. . . You’re not being sarcastic again with me are ya?” “Come on, we’ve known each other for a long time. You should know by now when I’m being sarcastic or not.” “Alright, thank you.” “I was being sarcastic.” “Oh, Rum, you’re so funny. I don’t know how you do it.” “I don’t know either, it just comes naturally.” “You know what else comes naturally?” “What’s that?” Rum feels a hard thud on the back of his head. A book thicker than the previous lands on the floor, and Rum looks down at it as he clenches his teeth from the pain. “The attraction between that book and your head.” “This is why it’s tough being me,” Rum grumbles. The sunlight hits Twilight’s face, and her eyes dreadfully open to the harsh light. She groans as she forces herself out of bed. However, her senses are heightened as a peculiar smell fills the air. “Spike?” She asks, but glances over to find Spike still sound asleep. “. . . Oh, no.” Fearing the worst, Twilight gallops out of her bedroom and rushes down the stairs as the smell grows stronger, and fumes of steam fill the living room. She comes to the dining room—the source of it all—to find Rum and Ale beside the dinner table lined with all sorts of breakfast goodies. “Uh . . . now,” says Ale. “Surprise!” They shout in unison. “W-What is all this?” Twilight asks in astonishment. “Happy birthday!” Rum yells. “Rum, no,” says Ale. “But have you considered yes?” “Woah, woah, woah what’s all this for?” Twilight asks. “Well, ‘I’ thought it’d be—” “Wait,” Ale interrupts. “What happened?” “What do you mean, ‘I’?” “Well, this was ‘my’ idea after all.” Rum turns to Twilight. “I tried to get him along with the idea, but he just wouldn’t even listen.” “That’s not how—! Why would you—?!” “Anyway, what do you think?” “Well, I mean, this is . . . nice,” says Twilight in bewilderment. “I appreciate this. I didn’t know you two could cook.” Twilight then cuts a piece of a pancake with a fork before placing it in her mouth. “Oh, it’s no problem,” says Ale. “We didn’t cook it anyway.” “Oh? Well, did you pick this up from a restaurant?” “Nah, we grabbed it all from a farm not too far away from here.” Twilight begins choking on the bit of pancake, but is able to clear her throat. “. . . I-I’m sorry, what?” “Yeah, I couldn’t believe it either. All this food and nobody at the table to claim it. It’s a good thing we showed up.” “I—! You—! You stole all this from Red Apple Acres?!” “Well, there were nothing but apple trees everywhere.” “So, you ‘did’ steal this!” “Oh, well, I mean . . . we didn’t really ‘steal’ this per say.” “Oh, we stole it alright!” Rum joyfully chimes in. “We stole it all for you! Just for your birthday! We even broke the lock on the door and everything!” “. . . Are you two aware that-stealing is wrong?!” Twilight screams. “. . . No?” says Ale. “Yes,” says Rum. “Then why would you go and do something like this?!” “Because we want to show how much we appreciate you.” “If in fact that ‘is’ what you were trying to accomplish, you went about it completely wrong! You don’t steal to show someone good will!” “You know Twilight, you could be a little more appreciative.” “What?!” Twilight’s face now fuming with Rum’s response. “Twilight, I think you’re getting a little agitated. I think you need to take a nice, calm, deep breath. Actually, you know what relieves stress? A massage. Would you like me to rub your shoulders?” “That’s it! I’ve had it with this!” “Woah, woah, woah!” says Ale. “Let’s not be hasty here. You know, sometimes, a tree that falls in the woods can cry for months. However, if the oranges aren’t bruised, you won’t miss dinner.” Rum turns to Ale, and pats him on the shoulder. “Well said, Ale,” says Rum. Twilight’s fury suddenly vanishes, and is replaced with a peculiar smile. She starts to chuckle, as well as Rum and Ale. Their chuckling soon grows to joyous laughter as they notice one of Twilight’s eyes twitch, and her smile becomes crooked. Rum and Ale look to each other nervously, but continue their now forced, awkward laughter. Suddenly, the front door bursts open. “A-ha!” An orange mare in a brown hat exclaims. “I knew I’d find whoever sole my breakfast here! I can smile my apple waffles from a mile away. . ! Twilight? You stole my food?” “Me? Oh, no. It was these two,” says Twilight with a mischievous look on her face. “Hey! You can’t just rat us out like that!” Rum immediately smacks Ale on the back of the head. “Why would you say that?” Rum asks. “I was going to try and see if I could convince her that ‘Twilight’ stole the food! Think before you speak!” “Oh, it’s just not fair.” “Well then. . .” says the orange mare. “Since you two think it’s alright to break into my home and steal my food; how’s about I teach you what it means to pay all of this back?” “I think that’s a great idea, Applejack,” says Twilight. “Say what now?!” says Ale. He and Rum feel a lasso tighten around their ankles, bringing them down to the floor with a loud thud. “You two are comin’ with me,” says Applejack. “No!” Rum yells. “I’m not into that! Twilight! I thought you were going to teach us about . . . the things!” “Well, now it looks like you have a substitute,” says Twilight. “Miss Sparkle, don’t do this!” Ale screams. “I’ve seen this before! This is the part in the movie where the two victims are locked up and forced to sacrifice their own body parts to survive!” “Oh, it won’t be ‘that’ bad. Well, maybe not. Have fun you two!” Twilight joyfully bids farewell as she waves her hoof. “No! It’s game over! Game over!” Ale and Rum are yanked out of the house, and Applejack slams the door behind her.
Ep. 1: A Warm Welcome: Ch. 1Peace Breakers Episode 1: Chapter 1: A Warm Welcome The train whistle blows, and two stallions step out onto the wooden planks of the station. As it leaves, the stallions carry bags of luggage that are strapped around their waists. The tallest bears a cobalt-blue coat and short, neatly combed brown mane. His big glasses shield his gray eyes, and his attire is merely composed of a red, button-down polo. Beside him—his clearly shorter companion—a silver-coated, younger stallion with a longer, messy brown mane of a darker shade. As for his wardrobe, it only consists of a combination of a white shirt and a black jacket. The two of them turn to each other, wondering what their next step should be. . . “Okay, you walk in front of me for a second,” the taller stallion suggests. “What for?” the shorter stallion asks. “Just do it before I smack ya.” “Go ahead, do it then,” he taunts. “You know what, fine, I’ll do it myself.” The taller stallion walks a few paces ahead as his companion follows behind. “There, now that was the first step.” The shorter stallion shuts his eyes, taking a deep breath to calm himself. “Okay, how about I lead us?” He walks over to a sign displaying a map of the area that shows streets and village names. “Where you going?” “To look for a place for us to stop.” “I thought you said you were going to feed us.” Puzzled, the shorter stallion scratches his head. “I ‘never’ said I was going to feed us. . . Now, I’m going to look for directions, and you wait there for a minute.” “One . . . two . . . three—” “Will you stop counting?!” “I’ll only stop counting if you stop pouting.” “Yeah, alright. . .” The shorter stallion examines the map, ignoring anything else his companion might have to say. “Okay . . . It looks like the nearest town is called ‘Ponyville’—” “Stop.” The taller stallion reaches out his hoof. “Did you say ‘Ponyville’?” “No, I said Donkeytown. Yes, I said Ponyville!” “Do you think we’ll find ponies there?” “. . . You know what, Rum, we might. We just might.” “Well, I guess that was obvious, but do you think we’ll find any villes?” “Only one. . . That would be Ponyville.” “So, let me get this straight. There’s a ville.” “Uh-huh.” “With ponies in it.” “Yuh-huh.” “And it’s called Ponyville.” “That’s correct.” “Am I losing my mind?” “I’ve been asking myself that since the first day we met.” Rum smiles, and claps his hooves ever so slowly. Rolling his eyes, the shorter stallion begins his trek to Ponyville with Rum following by his side. They soon reach the end of the path to a big sign that reads: Welcome to Ponyville, then gaze out at the wide open view of the town. The sun alights the village, giving it a sort of comforting glow. Ponies fill the streets, and laughter echoes to the stallions’ ears. “Gee,” the shorter stallion begins as he and Rum explore the streets of Ponyville. Glancing at the various food stands and cottages. “This place seems a lot different than back home.” “Yeah, I haven’t had the need to look over my shoulder. And it’s starting to get sore there.” “I’m telling you, if we run into some spazzy, loud and obnoxious pony; I’m going to go back to the train station.” Suddenly, they stop dead in their tracks as they notice a pony cut in front of them. A bright-pink mare with a wild and poofy mane of a darker shade passes them by. They watch, examining the absurdity of her mane until she is completely out of sight. “. . . So, yeah, let’s hurry up and try to find someplace to stay.” “Can’t it wait? I’m tired from being on the train all morning.” “That’s why we need someplace TO STAY!” The shorter stallion raises his voice, causing many of the townsponies to gawk in his direction. “I can help!” A cheerful voice shouts from behind the shorter stallion. He jolts and whips around in surprise to find the pink mare from earlier standing before him. She bears a smile that stretches from ear to ear, making him feel a bit uneasy. “Woah there, lady,” Rum begins. “If you open your mouth any wider, I’m afraid your jaw might fall off.” “My jaw won’t fall off; it’s attached to my face, silly!” “Have you ever sailed a ship?” “What does that have to do with anything?!” the shorter stallion interjects. “I just want to know if she has a boat called, ‘The Obvious’.” “I don’t have a boat, but I want a boat!” says the pink mare. “I’d take all my friends on boat rides!” “Yeah, and I can be your first mate!” Rum nudges the shorter stallion with his elbow. “Anyway, now that we’re done talking about boats and . . . mates, you said you can help us find a place to stay?” “Oh, yeah! We have a great hotel here in Ponyville! But first, allow me to introduce myself!” The pink mare hops and skips in a circle around them, singing a tune at a rapid pace that particularly rattles the shorter stallion’s ears. “Hey! My name is Pinkie Pie; welcome to my home town! It’s a place where nopony can cry, pout or frown!” “Hey,” Rum whispers to his companion. “Watch this.” He then forms the biggest frown he can, and widens his eyes as he gazes at Pinkie Pie. However, as she’s too invested in her song and dance, she doesn’t even notice Rum’s ridiculous face. “It’s Ponyville! The place that I adore! So, come with me; and you will see, it’s the perfect place to be!” She tosses a bundle of multi-colored confetti that rains down on the two of them. Pinkie Pie stands before them with that same big smile, awaiting a response. The shorter stallion, bearing an unamused face, turns away and attempts to leave. Rum grabs him by his jacket and pulls him back to his side. After shooting him with a serious glare, the shorter stallion sighs. “Thank you, Pinkie Pie, for that wonderful song,” says the shorter stallion in a sarcastic tone. “This is Rum, and—” “And you are?!” “. . . Ale, my name is Ale.” “Well, it’s the most pleasurable of pleasures to meet you Rum and Ale! So, onward to the hotel! Just so you know, renting a room costs about 120 bits for—” “Ahh!” Rum freaks. “Ahh! Why are we shouting?!” “We uh . . . we’re a bit short on bits.” “Oohh . . . well, what do you two do for a living? Ponyville is filled with opportunities!” “We’re homele—” Ale pokes at Rum’s side to get his attention, beckoning him to lean closer so he can whisper in his ear. “Rum,” Ale begins. “You can’t just tell her that we’re homeless.” “Why not?” “Because if you do, then what kind of job are we gonna get? Nopony’s gonna want to hire some homeless nonames.” “So, then what do I tell her we do?” “I don’t know, just make something up. Something that’ll guarantee us a job.” “Got it.” Rum looks back up at Pinkie Pie. “We happen to be professional bakers from Manehattan!” Immediately, Ale can feel his heart sink. He pulls Rum back down to whisper to him, filling with anxiety. “Baking?! Why baking?!” “I-I don’t know! It’s the first thing I thought of!” “That’s fantastic!” Pinkie Pie cheers. “Really?” The both of them ask in unison. “Yup! I know just the place!”
Ep. 1: A Warm Welcome: Ch. 2Peace Breakers Episode One: Chapter Two Rum and Ale are guided to a big cottage resembling that of a gingerbread house. The walls are brown as shortbread, and are lined with a frosting-like design. The both of them glance to each other in confusion as Pinkie Pie prances around the doorstep. “And here we are!” she cheers. “Welcome to my humble abode, Sugarcube Corner!” “You . . . live in a cookie?” Ale asks. “Hey, it fits,” Rum whispers to Ale. “It’s a cookie house for a kooky pony.” “I know! Isn’t it great?!” Pinkie Pie reiterates. “This is the bakery owned by Mr. and Mrs. Cake, and they are going to be the ones to hire you for the job. Also, if everything goes well, you two could possibly rent out a couple guest rooms!” “So your bakery doubles as an apartment complex?” Ale asks. “Well, look on the bright side, Ale,” says Rum. “At least you get breakfast in bed.” “Ugh, don’t tell me the beds are brownies and the pillows are marshmallows.” “Of course not. The beds are made out of sponge cake, and the pillows are cotton candy!” Pinkie Pie assures. “Yeah, Ale, don’t be stupid,” says Rum. “You know what, you’re right. I’ve doing it all wrong. I should’ve traded in my flapjack bed for a large brownie instead. Please, accept my apology.” “Apology accepted. Lucky for you ‘one’ of us has some common sense around here.” “I’m flattered, honestly. You can be so kind sometimes with the things you say about me.” “Yeah, you should hear the things I say about you behind you back.” Ale smiles and grinds his teeth. “Yup, the fun we have. . .” “Come on, you guys. I’ll introduce you to the Cakes.” The three of them enter the bakery, and are immediately hit with a strong smell of sweetness and sugar. Just like the outside, the inside of the diner is decorated with the same sugary features. Candy cane support beams along with peppermint tables assure Ale’s suspicions of how far the ‘candy’ concept went into this structure. “Are those the cakes?” Rum asks, pointing to a couple of cakes resting on the checkout counter. “Yeah, Rum, go ask ‘em for a job.” “Gladly!” “Umm . . . well—” Pinkie Pie attempts to interrupt. Rum approaches the counter where to cakes lie. “Hello, my name is Rum. I’m a world famous super-duper baker pony, and I’d like a job at this bakery made of bakery. . .” He lays his elbow onto the countertop as he waits for a response. “Oh . . . giving me the silent treatment eh? Think this restaurant’s too good for me eh?!” “Alright, Rum, calm down,” says Ale nervously. “Well, what do you think of ‘this’?!” Rum slaps the cake off of the counter as it flies through the air. Rum turns and sees that both Pinkie Pie and Ale’s faces are now covered in chocolate cake. “Oh . . . my bad. In my defense, since the whole building is made out of pastries, I figured the owners were too.” “You—” Ale wipes the cake from his face. “—have got to be—” “A genious!” Pinkie Pie exclaims as she gathers a large lump of cake off of her face. “That is a fun, new way to eat cake! Let me try!” Pinkie Pie hurries over to the counter with the last remaining cake near Rum. “Hold on, you can’t be—” “Heads up, Ale!” Pinkie Pie launches the last cake into Ale’s face, recoating him with a mix of chocolate and yellow cake. “Of course, why didn’t I see it coming?” Ale mumbles as he furiously wipes the cake off of his face once again. “Because you were too busy being a sourpuss,” says Rum as he tosses a sour candy into his mouth. “Okay, Pinkie Pie, why does ‘he’ get to ruin your cakes and eat your candy?” “I’m not ‘ruining’ her cakes, I’m teaching her new and exciting ways to eat. Just like the fancy chef that I am.” “Celestia. . .” Ale looks up to the ceiling. “Please, help me.” “Okay, now allow me to get Mr. and Mrs. Cake. Just give me a moment.” Pinkie Pie clears her throat. “Mr. and Mrs. Cake!” she yells at the top of her lungs, shattering both Rum and Ale’s ears. “What is it, Pinkie?!” Two voices call from above. “I found two stallions looking for a job!” “Oh, perfect! We’re getting behind on orders!” “So is that a yes?!” “What?! Yes! Hold on, let’s get them started!” “Wait! I wanna give them their orientation!” “Are . . . Are you sure?!” “Yeah! I’ve got this under control!” “Well . . . okay!” “Oh, and they need a place to stay! Is it okay if I show them the guest rooms afterwards?!” “W-What?!” “Thank you!” Pinkie Pie turns back to Ale and Rum. “She said it’s okay! Now, let’s see what you bakers can do!” Rum then leans over to Ale. “I’m really starting to like this filly,” Rum whispers. “Allow me to show you two the kitchen!” Pinkie Pie leads Rum and the dirtied Ale into the kitchen, where everything isn’t made of sugary sweets for a change. “Now, all you two have to do is simple. Just whip us up a batch of the best treats you can!” “Uhh. . .” Ale raises his hoof. “I have a—” “Good luck!” Pinkie Pie smiles. She exits the kitchen, leaving Rum and Ale to their own devices. “—few . . . questions.” Ale finishes. Rum and Ale glance to each other troublingly, wondering what they should do next. They walk around examining all the different baking tools, unsure of what exactly each device does. “Well, this is great. Now we gotta cook something, and we don’t have the slightest idea of how to cook!” Ale shouts. “I think the first step is: we need proper chef’s hats,” says Rum. “No, it’s not. We need to come up with something fast, or we can kiss this job goodbye!” “If that happens, I’m going to be the one kissing her goodbye, not you.” “Listen, Chef Charming, how about instead of focusing on the mare, we focus on baking?!” “Do you really think I’m charming?” “I’d be lying if I said I did.” “Well, that doesn’t sound that hard for you considering you lie all the time.” “Oh please, name one time I’ve lied.” “You’d like me to answer that question wouldn’t you?” “No, because we’d be here forever since there is no answer.” “Only a Sith deals in absolutes.” “Stop quoting Pony-Wan Kenobi and find a recipe book! There’s gotta be one somewhere!” “We don’t need a recipe book, all we need is the chef’s hat and a bright idea!” “I’d sooner believe you’d pull a chef’s hat out of nowhere than one of those.” “I love how supportive you always are.” “Rum, please, I’m begging you. For once, could you please just help me out here?” “What do you think I’m doing?” He asks, grabbing a box labeled ‘cake mix’ from a cupboard. “We’re going to make cupcakes. Now Ale, here’s what I want you to do. I want you to find the cups.” “You mean tray, I’m pretty sure you make cupcakes in a tray.” “What the hay are you talking about? We’re not making tray cakes.” “Celestia. . .” Ale gazes back up to the ceiling. “From the bottom of my heart, save me.” Ale turns away from Rum, rummaging through the drawers and cabinets for a recipe book. Rum spots a stack of plastic cups on the nearby countertop, sparking an idea. “So, are you going to help with these cakes?” “No, Rum, what ‘I’m’ going to do, is I’m going to save us by trying to make some ‘proper’ cakes. You go ahead and do . . . whatever. I’ll just have to get us out of this mess,” says Ale without even turning to look at Rum. “Oh, going to make some ‘proper’ cakes.” Rum mocks quietly as he tears open a box of cake mix furiously. He grumbles as he pours the mix into several assorted plastic cups he set up on the countertop. “Hey, Ale, help me with these ‘tray cakes’.” Ale quietly mocks as he pushes aside an assortment of bowels and pots in the bottom cabinets. “And they’re going to expect ‘us’ to bake something. . . What am I going to do?” Ale pulls open a drawer, and takes a breath of relief as soon as he reads the words, ‘recipe book’. He pulls out a big, brown cook book and immediately flips through the pages. He scans each page until his eyes are caught by a set of directions for a recipe of rather scrumptious-looking brownies. “Okay.” Ale sighs. “It’s just brownies, how difficult can this be. . ? I probably shouldn’t say that. Every time I do, something ends up going wrong.” Ale glances over his shoulder to Rum who is preparing something. He can’t quite make it out as his back is in the way. “Well, if I mess this up, maybe—just maybe—Rum’s won’t be . . . horrific.” Rum mixes together a concoction of cake mix, water, sugar and chocolate chips in each individual cup. He lays them all onto a metal sheet, and slides them into the oven. “Now, a professional would want to get this done as quickly as possible. So, the only solution would be to just turn up the heat a little.” Rum grabs the knob of the oven and turns it all the way to ‘high’. Rum gazes at the cupcakes through the little window in the oven door, quickly becoming impatient and fidgety. “Hmm . . . I’m going to need whip cream.” He then makes his way to the fridge, pulling open the big white door releasing a rush of cool air. Ale goes down the list of ingredients needed for the brownie recipe, struggling to understand just how he’s going to have to utilize all of it. “Let’s see . . . eggs, sugar, flour . . . vanilla extract. . ? What does that even mean? Do I have to . . . extract the vanilla? I-I don’t get this.” Ale can feel sweat forming at the base of his forehead, and the temperature in the room has suddenly gotten warmer. Assuming it’s just his nerves getting to him, he proceeds to gather the rest of the ingredients. He follows every direction, measuring every ingredient by the book. Feeling a confidence building inside of him, his worries begin to dwindle. With his mixture poured into a tray, he gets ready to set it into the oven. Grabbing the handle of the oven, Rum whips around the whip cream gripped in his teeth. “Hold on a minute!” Rum calls. Upon whipping himself around, the can of cream flies through the air and knocks Ale on the head. He stumbles backward, slipping on the mess of cake mix and water Rum had made on the floor. Ale falls flat on his back, and the brownie batter coats his upper torso. “Ooohhh. . .” Rum’s eyes widen with surprise. Ale drops the metal tray to wipe the batter from his eyes, taking an enraged deep breath as he gets back up to his hooves. “. . . Rum?” Ale calmly begins. “Yes, Ale?” “Do you think you can get me a cup of water, and a bag of flour?” “Is there a reason you’re always asking me for favors?” “You know, you’re right. I’ll just get it myself.” Ale grabs one of the spare plastic cups from the counter, and fills it to the brim with sink water. He picks up the bag of flour he used for his brownie mix, and carries the two items back with him. The two of them stare at each other in silence for a moment. With the cup of water, Ale splashes it onto Rum’s face. As he drips wet, Ale follows it up by hurling the bag of flour so hard that the impact busts it open. Rum stands frozen, scrunching his face as the slimy concoction covers him. “Of course you know, this means war.” In a flash, Rum gallops to a little table with a large plate of freshly made cupcakes. He topples it, using it as a barricade as he hurls cupcake after cupcake towards Ale. Like bullets they relentlessly strike him as he attempts to guard himself with his forelegs. Ale desperately makes his way to the fridge, opening the door to shield him from the onslaught of cupcakes. Rum halts his fire with a cupcake in hoof, waiting for him peek out. Moments of silence pass until a barrage of eggs are fired in Rum’s direction. Ale peers around the door to throw each egg with as much force as he can. Many hit the table, but as soon as one pelts Rum in the cheek as the yolk explodes over his face, he immediately hides to protect himself. “No thanks! I’m a tank!” Rum taunts as he carefully inches his table barricade to the fridge. Nearing Ale, he needs to think of something fast as he can’t land any egg shots like this. As soon as he is just close enough, Rum plans out his next attack. However, he can feel a rush of cold liquid pouring over his head as Ale leans over holding a jug of milk over him. Infuriated, Rum jumps up to shove Ale into the fridge and quickly slams the door shut. Rum leans his back onto the door to keep him trapped inside, filling with the pride of securing his victory. However, with just how quick he filled with pride, he fills with fear as Pinkie Pie and two other ponies enter the kitchen. Each of them scan the kitchen in pure awe of the mess. “What. . .” the mare begins. “What ha—” The oven door then bursts open with flames, sending the charred mess Rum had made splattering over the opposite wall. They all scream as the flames grow higher, and Pinkie Pie rushes to the wall to retrieve a fire extinguisher behind a glass case. She smothers the flame in the white foam, then leaves the destroyed oven with wide eyes. Rum’s eyes dart from the three ponies to the mess they made, realizing the consequences are about to take form. Rum carefully opens the fridge door a tad. “Ale, we gotta—” Before Rum can finish, Ale bursts out from the fridge sending Rum to the ground. Crazily, he nonsensically screams as he hurls a large, rectangular birthday cake with the word ‘surprise’ written across it with frosting. The cake splatters over the three ponies, and Ale’s heart quickly sinks. Rum looks up at them, as a smile comes upon his face. Soon, he begins chuckling, and the chuckling becomes full-on laughter. Ale, unsure as to why, laughs as well. Pinkie Pie’s eyes nervously dart to Mr. and Mrs. Cake as she too joins in the laughter. Rum pounds the floor as he is overtaken by his laughter, and Ale laughs and shrugs as he looks at Mr. and Mrs. Cake. However, their faces grow furious, and unlike the other two, Ale can feel the fear slipping back in. “Miss Twilight Sparkle!” Mrs. Cake greets from the doorstep. “Please, Mrs. Cake, you can just call me Twilight.” “Oh, yes of course!” “Umm, I hope you don’t mind me asking, but what exactly happened to you three?” “Oohh, we just had a little mess in the kitchen is all.” “I see, so how can I help you today? Was there another cookbook you were looking to find?” “You know, I’m so glad you asked! Although I’m not looking for a cookbook this time around.” “Oh, well, what is it you needed?” “Pinkie Pie just happened to come across a couple of lost stallions in town, and they needed a place to stay, somewhere to work. . .” “I see. . .” “Now, we ‘could’ have offered them these things. But, you know, we don’t have any room—” “But I thought—” Pinkie Pie attempts to speak, but is quickly silenced by Mrs. Cake’s hoof. “Anyway,” Mrs. Cake continues. “We were hoping that perhaps ‘you’ wouldn’t mind taking them in for us!” “Oh! I-I don’t know. I mean, my library doesn’t really have any guest rooms or—” “Oh, please Miss Twilight! These two could really use your hospitality. Otherwise, they have nowhere else to go, and will have to sleep in the streets! They have not a single bit to their names!” “Well. . . I’m sure I could arrange something.” “Fantastic!” Mrs. Cake hurriedly pushes Rum and Ale through the doorway and into her home as they clutch their bags. They and Twilight lock eyes as Mrs. Cake rambles. “This is Rum, and this is Ale! I’m sure they will be eternally thankful to you for this—I know I am!” “W-Wait, wha—?” “Thank you again Miss Twilight! So long!” With big smiles, Mr. and Mrs. Cake along with Pinkie Pie gallop away from Twilight’s home. Trying to grasp the situation, Twilight turns and looks at Rum and Ale as they confusedly stand next to each other with their bags. “Well, that was fun,” says Rum. “Who wants cake?”
Ep. 2: Ground Rules: Ch. 1Episode Two: Ground Rules: Chapter 1 Twilight, Rum and Ale continuously glance back and forth at each other unsure of where to go from here. Twilight nervously clears her throat, and tries to handle the situation that’s been thrust upon her. “Well . . . welcome to my home, The Golden Oaks Library. My name is Twilight Sparkle, and—forgive me—but I’m going to need to get your names again.” “I’m Beer, and this is Booze,” says Rum. “Umm . . . I don’t think that’s—” “Then why did you ask us?!” Rum shouts, exasperated. “W-Wha—I-I—” “Rum, honestly? Do you have to be this way twenty-four seven?” “Hey!” Rum shouts. “The convenience store of Rum is open all hours, where all jokes are only one bit!” “Yeah, limited supplies last.” Ale then turns to Twilight. “I’m Ale, and this is Rum.” “Oh, okay.” Twilight now relieved. “Well, it’s nice to meet you both. If you don’t mind me asking, what was all that about earlier? Between you and the Cakes.” “Which cakes?” Rum asks. “The food items, or Big Butt and Scarecrow?” “Uhh, that’s—” “What he MEANT to say!” Ale immediately cuts off Twilight as he steps in front of Rum with a big, nervous smile across his face. “Yeah, what did he mean to say, Ale?” Rum intimidates. Ale whips around to glare intensely at Rum, who’s holding a hay-eating grin. “I think I’ve heard enough,” says Twilight. “Clearly, you two should just take your bags and—” “Twilight! What’s going on?” Rum and Ale turn to see a little, purple dragon walking down the set of stairs behind them. He rubs his eyes as if he’s just been woken up, and notices the three of them standing in the middle of the room. “Oh, we’ve got company.” “Oh my Celestia! Dragon!” Rum yells, pointing his hoof. Ale turns, quickly filling with anxiety as his eyes are met with the horrifying sight of the deadly lizard. “Ahh! Kill it before it eats us!” Ale cries. Both he and Ale rush towards the dragon. Ale, flailing his forelegs wildly and Rum on the verge of bucking the little dragon. Both Twilight’s and the dragon’s eyes widen with fear as the attackers gallop across the floor on a bloodlust. As the dragon shields himself with his arms, Rum and Ale suddenly find themselves unable to move. They are enveloped by a pinkish aura, and are frozen in place as the dragon takes a breath of relief. “Have you two lost your minds?!” Twilight asks as she walks towards the frozen stallions. “This is my friend, Spike! And you two were just about to attack him!” “Wait! You don’t understand!” Rum cries. “It was just a joke, you see? Just a joke!” “Just a joke? He could’ve gotten hurt!” “I’m sorry! We didn’t mean it!” “Please, Miss Sparkle! It’s our fault! We were just scared is all!” Ale begs. “W-We were just afraid for our lives!” “Well, that doesn’t excuse your complete lack of respect and courtesy to the ponies around you. Especially after what you said about Mr. and Mrs. Cake.” “No! Please, forgive me!” Rum begs. “Yes! Please, forgive him!” Ale adds. “No, forgive ‘us’! W-We don’t know any better! Please, don’t kick us out! We have nowhere else to go!” “We’ll have to go out in the street again!” “Kick ‘em out! Kick ‘em out!” Spike urges in a low voice. “Well. . .” Twilight raises an eyebrow, pondering to herself. “Please, Miss Sparkle,” Ale continues to plead. “We’ll do anything to make it up to you! W-We can be better ponies! We swear!” “Hmm. . .” The aura around Rum and Ale vanishes, and they both fall painfully to the floor. They rub their heads in agony as they look up with Twilight towering over them. “Fine, I won’t kick you two out.” “Yes!” Rum and Ale cheer in unison as they each grab on of Twilight’s hooves while still laying on the floor. “Thank you, Miss Sparkle!” says Ale. “Yeah! This means a lot!” Rum adds. “However!” Twilight begins as their smiles quickly disappear. “You can only stay under one condition.” “Name it! We’ll do anything!” says Ale. “Well—” Rum attempts to interject, but is immediately punched in his side by Ale. “The condition is: you can only stay here if you promise to ‘learn’ how to be better ponies.” “Easy! We can do that!” Ale celebrates. “Shouldn’t be too hard to figure out.” “And I’m going to be teaching you two how. I’ve been studying friendship for quite some—” “Uugghh.” Rum groans. Twilight glares directly into Rum’s eyes as he—realizing he’s made a mistake—covers his mouth with his hooves. “I’ve been studying friendship for quite some time, and I feel like this is a perfect opportunity to share what I’ve learned. This may even prove to be a valuable learning experience for all of us. All you two have to do, is follow my instructions.” “Whatever you say, Miss Sparkle. We’ll do it,” Ale assures as Rum simply nods his head with his hooves still covering his mouth. “Great! Because your first lesson begins now.” “Oh . . . well, what is it?” “I want you two to apologize to Spike.” Rum and Ale turn to Spike who is patiently waiting with his arms crossed. They get up from the floor, reluctant to take a step forward. “I-I don’t wanna,” says Rum. “He looks angry.” Twilight sighs, trying to sustain her patience. “Yes,” she begins. “That’s because you attacked him, and if you’re going to start making friends, you should apologize when you hurt somepony else’s feelings . . . or attempt to actually hurt ‘somepony’ in this case.” “Okay. . .” Rum moans. He inches closer to the dragon, still fearful. “I’m . . . I’m sorry for trying to kick you to death.” “Yeah, well—” Spike attempts to speak. “Ahh! He’s yelling at me!” Rum shrieks. “That’s a sign he’s going to attack! Ale save me!” He turns and leaps into the air towards Ale. “Wait, what?!” Ale shouts as he watches the incoming Rum hurdle towards him. Without any time to react, the two of them collide and tumble over the floor; fighting and shouting nonsensically to each other. Twilight presses her hoof onto her forehead as a headache ensues. “This is going to be impossible.”
Ep. 2: Ground Rules: Ch. 2Episode 2: Ground Rules: Chapter 2 Twilight, Ale and Rum are sitting on a wooden bench near a public park, filled with families tossing Frisbees and frolicking about. She had simply said they would go for a walk before their lesson began, and spoke nothing of what her plan would uphold. “I want a haydog,” says Rum. “Why are you always hungry? You fat lard,” Ale asks as he rolls his eyes. “I’m not fat. I’m just big, and I’ve got a lot of room in there.” “Yeah, and there’s apparently a lot of room in your head too.” Rum tilts his head, desperately searching for a way to retort. “Yeah, you got nothin’.” “Will you two please stop the arguing?” Twilight intervenes. “That’s not the reason we came here.” “Then why did we come here? To sit around and stalk these families while they play with their children? That’s messed up Miss Sparkle.” “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Rum asks. “Maybe ‘you’re’ the sick one.” “You know what? You’re going to get real sick of me smacking—!” “I’m already sick of you!” “Rum!” Twilight raises her voice. “Will you stop egging him on?” “It’s okay Miss Sparkle, he doesn’t know what he’s doing,” says Ale. “And Ale. . .” “Oh, what did I do?” “You need to stop starting these arguments.” “. . . But he’s still lardy.” “Twilight, he’s hurting my feelings,” says Rum. “Alright!” Twilight shouts, losing her patience. “Clearly, if I’m going to be teaching you two anything, you can’t be near each other. Because neither of you can behave yourselves when you’re together.” “You sound just like the mother that left me when I was little,” says Ale. Both Twilight and Rum look to Ale with stunned expressions on their faces. “I . . . I don’t—” Suddenly, Rum bursts out with uncontrollable laughter. Flaring his forelegs in their air and leaning back against the bench, Twilight glares in his direction as his laughter slowly comes to an end. “Well then, I think it’d be best if we move away from that subject for now and focus on the lesson I’ve prepared for you two.” “Alright, fine.” says Rum. “Now, I’m going to teach you two how to make good first impressions. This time, without violence or insults.” “Easy.” As soon as Rum and Ale stand up to leave, Twilight holds out her hooves to stop them. “No, one at a time. Rum, you go first. Just walk up to somepony, anypony, and introduce yourself in a calm, collected and courteous manner.” Rum leaves the bench, scouting for somepony to meet. His eyes lock onto a young filly sniffing a flower. He puts on the biggest smile he possibly can, and approaches the filly. She notices the large shadow enveloping her, and turns her head to see Rum with his rows of teeth and wide eyes. “Why, hello there little filly,” he mutters. Instantly, she screams and gallops as fast as she can away from him back to her parents. They glare at him as they cradle their daughter. “How you folks doing?” The parents shake their heads, and leave the park. Rum returns to Twilight and Ale, shrugging. “I don’t see what I did wrong. I was only doing what you told me.” “Okay, but you don’t just walk up to some filly and . . . never mind. Ale, why don’t you try?” “I’ve got this,” says Ale, getting up from the bench. He notices an elderly mare sitting at another bench, and decides to approach her. However, he quickly finds that she’s in fact napping, and is unsure of how to get her attention without doing something wrong. “Pardon me, Ma’am?” Instead of waking, the mare continues to snore. “Ma’am? Hello?” He attempts again, but still is met without a response. “I bet she’s just dead. . . Wait a minute. . . DEAD?!” Ale begins to panic, and screams into the mare’s ear. “Ma’am! Are you dead?! Stay away from the light!” She awakens in a frenzy, grasping her walker and swinging it in Ale’s direction. “Who’s there?! Stay away from me!” She shouts as she whacks Ale repeatedly with her walker. “Ma’am! Stop! Please!” He begs as he is brought to his knees by her relentless onslaught. He scrambles to his hooves and gallops away, but is chased through the park by the surprisingly fast, old mare. “Help! Guys, help!” He yells as he gallops towards Twilight and Rum. “Get back here you hooligan!” The mare demands. “Maybe we should take this lesson somewhere else. Run!” Twilight and Rum join Ale in the gallop out of the park, with the mare still close behind. “Why isn’t she giving up?!” “I don’t . . .” Rum ponders. “Wait . . . it’s not US she wants!” Rum trips Ale, causing him to crash and tumble onto the dirt road. “Why did you do that?!” “It’s survival of the fittest, Twilight!” As Ale coughs from the clouds of dirt his body kicked up, he watches the insane mare burst through the cloud and loom over him. She raises her walker, ready to strike as Ale yelps at the top of his lungs. A pinkish aura coats Ale’s jacket, and he is dragged across the dirt road away from the mare’s walker as she slams it onto the ground. Twilight reels Ale in with her magic as she and Rum continue to gallop down the road dragging him behind. “That’s right! You better run!” The mare shouts as she shakes her hoof in the air. “You ain’t gonna convince me to buy no cookies!” The three of them manage to escape, coming to a walk to regain their breath. “Well,” Twilight begins. “I guess we’ll have to hold off on this lesson for a—” “No way,” says Rum. “I’ve failed you, Twilight, but I’m not ready to give up yet. I see just the pony I’m ready to introduce myself too.” “Really? Who’s that?” “Him, right over there.” Rum points to a rugged, filthy stallion with a beanie and scruffy beard who’s digging through a garbage can in an alley. “He looks like he could use a friend.” “Uhh, I’m not too sure if he’s the right pony to—” “Don’t worry, I know what I’m doing.” “I don’t think he looks like a hugger, Rum,” says Ale. “I knew a pony named Hugger.” “. . . What happened to him?” Twilight asks. “He tried giving a bear an actual ‘bear-hug’. . . In memory of Hugger, I’m going in.” “Be strong, Rum,” says Ale. “W-Wait, you still shouldn’t. . .” Ignoring her advice, Rum proceeds to approach the shady stallion. “Rum! Are you nuts?!” Rum nears the stallion who has his head buried in the garbage can. “Hey buddy,” says Rum, startling the stallion. “Huh?! Wha—who are you?” The stallion asks, now agitated. “Give me a kiss.” “What in the—?” “Shh . . . this is our moment.” As Rum leans in, the stallion grabs the garbage can lid and smacks him dead in the face. “Stay away from me you freak!” “Ahh! You sound just like the wife that left me!” Rum screams as he gallops away. “That’s right! You’d better run!” The day passes, and nighttime settles in. Twilight, exhausted from her seemingly endless string of failures, enters her home with her head hanging low. “Whew! What a day!” says Rum, stretching out his legs as he enters the library. “I think we had a very successful day today.” “Yeah, we met so many new ponies today,” says Ale. “I think we’re getting the hang of this whole ‘lesson thing’.” “No! You’re not!” Twilight fumes. Rum and Ale’s smiles disappear as they gaze into Twilight’s glare. “You two haven’t learned anything from my lesson! Instead you terrified a child, infuriated an old mare, disturbed some random stallion, and forced the fruit stand to close early for the day because you kept harassing the owner!” “I was just asking him a simple question,” says Rum. “No, you kept asking him if he sold fruit! At a fruit stand! For hours!” “You see, Twilight, he just—” “Stop. Stop right there, because I don’t want to hear anymore. You two have ruined so many ponies’ days with your games, and neither of you seem to be taking this lesson seriously!” “C’mon, Miss Sparkle—” Ale attempts to speak. “No! No . . . I’ve had enough for today. I need some serious rest if I’m going to recover from this. I’m not even sure if this is even worth the trouble you two have caused. Either I’m a terrible teacher who can’t even teach you anything on the first lesson, or you two are just unteachable!” Twilight storms off, as Rum and Ale turn to each other guiltily. “Just for the record,” Rum begins. “This is all your fault.” “You know, I’m not even going to argue with you right now. Thanks to us, she’s upset now. I hope you’re happy with that.” “Well, I tried. Plus, she didn’t kick us out yet, so I think it’s a win for us.” “Do you know what?” “What?” Ale then pokes Rum in his chest. “Ah! What was that for?” Ale pokes Rum in his chest once more. “Can you stop?” Ale pokes him again, and Rum attempts to poke him back. Ale grabs his hoof to stop him, but proceeds to push his hoof towards him. The both of them struggle to poke each other first, desperately wrestling with each other. They strain as they are brought to the ground, and Spike finds them as he climbs down the stairs. “Uhh . . . what are you two doing?” he asks. “We’re trying to poke each other hard!” “. . . Got it. I’m just gonna go back upstairs.” Spike leaves Ale and Rum to their little quarrel, and finds Twilight in her bedroom laying flat on her back on her bed. “Hey Twilight, how’d it go?” “Not very good, Spike.” “Yeah, I figured.” “What are they doing now?” “Trying to poke each other hard. . . Whatever that means.” “Ugh. . . What am I going to do, Spike?” Twilight rubs her eyes. “You could always just kick them out.” “I can’t Spike. These two need to learn the aspects of friendship.” “But aren’t they friends?” “I don’t even know, because they sure don’t act like it.” Twilight sighs. “All the more reason these two need my help. If I can just show them what true friendship is all about, maybe all the insults and arguing can stop. . . And everypony else won’t be giving us dirty looks in the streets.” “Well, it was only the first day. Maybe tomorrow will be better.” Spike then climbs into his little sleeping casket. “But if it was just the first day, and it was ‘this’ bad, then tomorrow can only be. . . Oh, I can only hope it’s not,” she mutters to herself.
Ep. 3: Ol' McRobbers Had A Farm: Ch. 1Episode 3: Ol' McRobbers Had A Farm: Chapter 1 With Twilight and Spike holed up in their bedroom, Ale and Rum pace around the room wondering how they’re going to get to sleep tonight. “Hey, Rum?” Ale asks. “Now, Ale, you don’t have to say anything,” says Rum. “I know what you’re thinking.” “Uhh. You do?” “Yes, you’re thinking that we really messed up, and Twilight probably hates us. But I’ll tell ya, it’s not that bad. She only hates you.” “. . . I’m just not even going to keep this going. What I was ‘going’ to say, was that Twilight never showed us where the guest rooms are.” Rum shrugs. “Well, she probably expects us to find our own place to sleep around here.” “Shouldn’t we just . . . go up and ask?” “Well, we can’t just go up and ask her. Ugh, the whole situation just has me floored.” Rum falls face first onto the floor, with his voice now muffled. “Goodnight.” “Fine, I’ll go ask her.” Ale turns and grabs the banister with the intent of climbing the stairs, but instead stands frozen. Overcome with uneasiness, and the idea that he could possibly anger her even more so, he turns back around. “Actually, I guess we might as well just sleep down here.” Ale grabs a stack of books out from one of the shelves carved into the wood of the walls, and lays them down so that he can rest his head as if they were a pillow. As the chirping of crickets sneaks in through the windows, and the moonlight coating a sliver of the living room, Ale restlessly turns over on the floor and trying to get his head comfortable on the stack of books. However, it isn’t the uncomfortable position that is keeping him awake. “Rum? You awake?” He whispers. “No,” says Rum as his voice overtakes the sound of the crickets. “Can’t get to sleep either, huh?” “I don’t know what you’re talking about. That sounds like a ‘you’ problem. I’m asleep.” “No, seriously.” “You know, Ale, this may come as a surprise to you, but I do actually feel kinda bad for how today went. . . And also, this floor is hard and cold.” “Yeah, I was just thinking the same thing.” “About the floor?” “No!” Ale impulsively raises his voice, then covers his mouth out of fear of waking Twilight. Rum leans up with his eyes wide, surprised by the shift in Ale’s voice. “No,” he then lowers voice. “I meant about feeling bad that we just ruined Twilight’s day. She’s only trying to help us, and now she probably has no faith in us. And you know what that means.” Rum sighs, and turns away from Ale with his head back down onto the floor. “This is starting to feel like the time Mom and Dad kicked me out.” “I thought you told me you left your parents?” “No, that was my girlfriend.” “Girlfriend? I don’t remember this, when did this happen?” “It happened when your Mom left your Dad.” Ale, without a word, grabs one of the books he’s been laying on. Winds up, and throws it, hitting Rum in the back of his head. Rum rubs the back of his head. “You know, I knew I’d get the book thrown at me one of these days, but I never thought it’d be like this.” “Can we try to take this seriously? We both feel bad, at least I ‘think’ you do, so we should do something about it.” “What could ponies like us possibly do for a pony like her?” “I don’t know, but we need to come up with something. Something to show her that we actually do care. I mean, she’s letting us stay in her house for Celestia’s sake.” “But I don’t care.” Ale grabs another book, and throws it at Rum. It nails him on the back of the head again, and he grunts as he rubs his head. “Ah! Alright, I actually do care a little bit.” “Thank you. Now, we gotta come up with some way to cheer her up.” “Let’s go up there and sing her a song.” “You know, I’ve got a nice, thick book of poems here. It feels like a good seven-hundred pages, hardcover.” Looking at Ale as he weighs the book in his hoof, he feels intimidated by the size of the book. “Well, what do you think we should do, Mister Book-a-pult?” “I’m thinking that maybe we should . . . prepare breakfast for her in the morning!” “It’s times like these I remember why I keep you around.” “Why? You think it’s a good idea?” “Oh yeah. I think it’s brilliant.” “. . . You’re not being sarcastic again with me are ya?” “Come on, we’ve known each other for a long time. You should know by now when I’m being sarcastic or not.” “Alright, thank you.” “I was being sarcastic.” “Oh, Rum, you’re so funny. I don’t know how you do it.” “I don’t know either, it just comes naturally.” “You know what else comes naturally?” “What’s that?” Rum feels a hard thud on the back of his head. A book thicker than the previous lands on the floor, and Rum looks down at it as he clenches his teeth from the pain. “The attraction between that book and your head.” “This is why it’s tough being me,” Rum grumbles. The sunlight hits Twilight’s face, and her eyes dreadfully open to the harsh light. She groans as she forces herself out of bed. However, her senses are heightened as a peculiar smell fills the air. “Spike?” She asks, but glances over to find Spike still sound asleep. “. . . Oh, no.” Fearing the worst, Twilight gallops out of her bedroom and rushes down the stairs as the smell grows stronger, and fumes of steam fill the living room. She comes to the dining room—the source of it all—to find Rum and Ale beside the dinner table lined with all sorts of breakfast goodies. “Uh . . . now,” says Ale. “Surprise!” They shout in unison. “W-What is all this?” Twilight asks in astonishment. “Happy birthday!” Rum yells. “Rum, no,” says Ale. “But have you considered yes?” “Woah, woah, woah what’s all this for?” Twilight asks. “Well, ‘I’ thought it’d be—” “Wait,” Ale interrupts. “What happened?” “What do you mean, ‘I’?” “Well, this was ‘my’ idea after all.” Rum turns to Twilight. “I tried to get him along with the idea, but he just wouldn’t even listen.” “That’s not how—! Why would you—?!” “Anyway, what do you think?” “Well, I mean, this is . . . nice,” says Twilight in bewilderment. “I appreciate this. I didn’t know you two could cook.” Twilight then cuts a piece of a pancake with a fork before placing it in her mouth. “Oh, it’s no problem,” says Ale. “We didn’t cook it anyway.” “Oh? Well, did you pick this up from a restaurant?” “Nah, we grabbed it all from a farm not too far away from here.” Twilight begins choking on the bit of pancake, but is able to clear her throat. “. . . I-I’m sorry, what?” “Yeah, I couldn’t believe it either. All this food and nobody at the table to claim it. It’s a good thing we showed up.” “I—! You—! You stole all this from Red Apple Acres?!” “Well, there were nothing but apple trees everywhere.” “So, you ‘did’ steal this!” “Oh, well, I mean . . . we didn’t really ‘steal’ this per say.” “Oh, we stole it alright!” Rum joyfully chimes in. “We stole it all for you! Just for your birthday! We even broke the lock on the door and everything!” “. . . Are you two aware that-stealing is wrong?!” Twilight screams. “. . . No?” says Ale. “Yes,” says Rum. “Then why would you go and do something like this?!” “Because we want to show how much we appreciate you.” “If in fact that ‘is’ what you were trying to accomplish, you went about it completely wrong! You don’t steal to show someone good will!” “You know Twilight, you could be a little more appreciative.” “What?!” Twilight’s face now fuming with Rum’s response. “Twilight, I think you’re getting a little agitated. I think you need to take a nice, calm, deep breath. Actually, you know what relieves stress? A massage. Would you like me to rub your shoulders?” “That’s it! I’ve had it with this!” “Woah, woah, woah!” says Ale. “Let’s not be hasty here. You know, sometimes, a tree that falls in the woods can cry for months. However, if the oranges aren’t bruised, you won’t miss dinner.” Rum turns to Ale, and pats him on the shoulder. “Well said, Ale,” says Rum. Twilight’s fury suddenly vanishes, and is replaced with a peculiar smile. She starts to chuckle, as well as Rum and Ale. Their chuckling soon grows to joyous laughter as they notice one of Twilight’s eyes twitch, and her smile becomes crooked. Rum and Ale look to each other nervously, but continue their now forced, awkward laughter. Suddenly, the front door bursts open. “A-ha!” An orange mare in a brown hat exclaims. “I knew I’d find whoever sole my breakfast here! I can smile my apple waffles from a mile away. . ! Twilight? You stole my food?” “Me? Oh, no. It was these two,” says Twilight with a mischievous look on her face. “Hey! You can’t just rat us out like that!” Rum immediately smacks Ale on the back of the head. “Why would you say that?” Rum asks. “I was going to try and see if I could convince her that ‘Twilight’ stole the food! Think before you speak!” “Oh, it’s just not fair.” “Well then. . .” says the orange mare. “Since you two think it’s alright to break into my home and steal my food; how’s about I teach you what it means to pay all of this back?” “I think that’s a great idea, Applejack,” says Twilight. “Say what now?!” says Ale. He and Rum feel a lasso tighten around their ankles, bringing them down to the floor with a loud thud. “You two are comin’ with me,” says Applejack. “No!” Rum yells. “I’m not into that! Twilight! I thought you were going to teach us about . . . the things!” “Well, now it looks like you have a substitute,” says Twilight. “Miss Sparkle, don’t do this!” Ale screams. “I’ve seen this before! This is the part in the movie where the two victims are locked up and forced to sacrifice their own body parts to survive!” “Oh, it won’t be ‘that’ bad. Well, maybe not. Have fun you two!” Twilight joyfully bids farewell as she waves her hoof. “No! It’s game over! Game over!” Ale and Rum are yanked out of the house, and Applejack slams the door behind her.
