Peace Breakers

Episode 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.