Peace Breakers

Peace 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!”