Chapters Chapter 1: Artistic Licence
Chapter 1: Artistic Licence
"Have a seat, kid. You want anything to drink?"
"Oh, um, no thank you."
"Alright, then. I guess we'll get down to it. I've got your copy of the script right here. I'm going to give it to you, and I want you to memorize it by the end of the week. From the time you wake up on Sunday to the time we hit post-production, you're Fiddler Green, and you're going to walk, talk, eat, sleep, and breathe accordingly. I know I don't have to tell you how to do your job. You've got a good reputation following you around. I'm just reminding you that it's in your contract this time, so if you slip up even once, that's a violation. Just because you're by yourself doesn't mean that you're off the hook. You've got a lot of fans out there who-"
"With, um, all due respect, Mr. Cut, I really don't think I need the whole speech again. I've been method acting for years now, so the fact that it's in my contract now doesn't really change anything."
"Right, right, right. Well, I'd just hate there to be any confusion about the legal aspects involved here. I know you're not going to try and get out of it. You're a good kid. Me and you, we understand each other, see. It's all about the art of it. All of those Haywood bigwigs might only be interested in making bits off their pictures, but not me. Nah, they offered me a job down there not too long ago, and I had to turn them down. If I'm gonna make pictures, I'm gonna make my own pictures. And that's why we're doing an epic. We're gonna show the world that we don't need anybody else! It's me and you, kid. You're my star, so I'm counting on you to bring them in and keep them in. Are you sure you don't want a drink?"
"I'm really fine. Anyway, uh, hey, I was looking into the, uh, the character a little bit, and I, ah, I probably need to do a lot more research and all, but, ah... well, the thing is, I mean... I don't really seem to fit the bill, uh, physically, for this particular part."
"Oh, that? Yeah, don't worry about that. We can just make you look green in the editing room. That part won't even be hard to do. We'd have to change that cutie mark anyway, so it's not an issue."
"But I'm not even a pegasus."
"Mmmh. Artistic licence. Any other questions?"
"I... no, I guess not, then. I'll go get started on that script."
"Great, kid, great. I'm sure you'll do a fantastic job on this one. We've got a blockbuster on our hands, I'm telling you."
As soon as he walks out of my office, I let out a deep sigh, and pour myself some cider from the bottle I keep on my windowsill. He really is a good kid, but he always seems like he's in a hurry when I know he has nowhere to be. I figure he's one of those guys who's only comfortable in someone else's head. I used to be the same way, when I was younger. I write all of my own movies, like any professional worth his salt, so I know what it means to take on a character too. Maybe not like that guy, but enough to know how it is. I first met him when he was someone else. I was trying to scout him out, offer him a job even, and he wouldn't even tell me his name because he wasn't willing to break character. That's how I knew this kid was something special. That was back in his first picture, see. He was playing a waiter with cerebral palsy, and he kept moving his front legs around all funny and insisting his name was Greasy Spoon. I was never on the set for that one, so I actually had to wait until the film was released to find out Greasy Spoon was being played by this fella by the name of Blazing Saddle. When I called him up, he said he'd always wanted to star in a Smash Cut picture. The kid thought he had thrown away his chance, but he never broke character, even though he could have. He was a good kid, alright. Good actor, too. That's why I wanted him playing my lead. I only wish he'd have had more to say just now.
I take a nice, long, drink of cider, and tell Jackie to put me through with Mr. Daisy. After a few rings, he picks up.
"Hello?"
"Hey. It's Smash. I got your message earlier, but I can't give you a date yet. We don't even start filming until next week. I'm sorry, but these things take time. I can pay the interest, so I don't know why I'm being contacted about this already."
"I dunno what che're talkin' about. You wanna talk to the boss?"
"Uh, yes. I want to talk to your boss."
"Alright, just a sec. HEY, BOSS! SOME GUY BYANAMA SMASH WANSA TALKTA YOU!"
I wish Mr. Daisy would hire some more competent employees. This guy had completely ruined the noir-style atmosphere that I had been trying to drink in. It's true that good help is hard to find sometimes. I used to have a sheep for a lighting director that would fall asleep every time he saw his own reflection.
"Hello?"
"Hey. It's Smash. I got your message earlier, but I can't give you a date yet. We don't even start filming until next week. I'm sorry, but these things take time. I can pay the interest, so I don't know why I'm being contacted about this already."
"Uh, Smash. Smash, Smash, Smash. I was expecting better from a Haywood director."
"Actually, I'm independent, but-"
"Shut up. Look, I'm a reasonable guy. If you can pay the interest, you can pay the interest, but I wasn't expecting this one to become a long-term investment. I'm just going to have to send someone down there to monitor this little project of yours and make sure you're actually going to make all of the money I've put into this thing. You let my gal on set, and she'll talk to me for you so you don't even have to worry about that. Just keep up your work, and keep up with the payments, and nothing else happens. Now how does that sound?"
"That sounds great, Mr. Daisy. I won't let you down."
"Of course you won't."
He hung up without saying goodbye. I hate it when they do that. He's always much nicer before you've made a deal with him. As soon as you get your hooves on a single bit that belongs to that guy, he turns into a real jerk. It can't be good for business.
I down another drink of cider, but there isn't as much left as I want. I buzz Jackie one last time to tell her she can go home. Tomorrow, I need to hand out the scripts to everyone else. I should have done this a lot sooner, but the photocopier had about three different problems, and I just didn't get around to it until now. I get out of my chair slowly, stow what's left of the bottle of cider back in the desk drawer, lock it, and walk out of my office. Today marks the transition from pre-production to production, and it's going to be a long three months.
Chapter 2: A Household Name
"Blaze, can you please put that thing down for a second? You're starting to freak me out."
"Sorry, Polo, but I need to have this in my head by tomorrow morning. It's important."
"Why? You don't even go in tomorrow. Just start late or something. I haven't seen you once without that script for the past four days, and I forgot what you look like."
"Stop exaggerating. I'll have plenty of time to take a break when I'm Fiddler Green tomorrow. Fiddler Green isn't an actor, so he won't be reading any scripts."
"How's anyone even going to know if you skip out on it?"
"Believe me. They'll know."
I take another bite of my spaghetti, and turn the page with my other hoof. It's Saturday night, and my kid brother is getting whiny again. I usually elect to stay somewhere else when I'm in-character, and he doesn't like that because I can't stick around, and even if I saw him somewhere, I'm not allowed to recognize him. It's an understandable complaint, but I've gotten tired of having the same argument with him all the time.
"So, how many more times do you do this, anyway?"
"I don't know. It depends on how long I live, I suppose."
"Yeah, but I mean, come on. Like... what about when you get super-famous? You're going to walk around town acting like a psychopath while all these adoring fans keep asking for your autograph and taking your picture and stuff? How's that going to work?"
"I don't know, Polo. I'll worry about that if and when it happens."
"But like... how come? Like, once you get to that point, can't you just stop doing this stuff and show up on some cereal commercials and be okay?"
"I make enough money to get by already. It's not about the money."
"Yeah, yeah, but I mean when you're famous too. Like... I mean, people know about you right now and all, but once you're a household name, I mean, what else is there, right?"
"It's not about that either. Look, are you going to let me finish this or not? I still don't have the last eight pages down, and my spaghetti's getting cold. I don't have time to talk right now."
"Yeah... alright, fine. Whatever. Go play soldiers. I'll just... watch T.V. or something."
He gets up and goes into the living room. He's bitter at me, but I can't really do anything about it, because I really am busy with this stuff. I don't technically even live at home, but I have to change residence so often because of my job that I've never bought my own apartment either. In this particular instance, I've got to go live out in the desert because that's where we're filming, and I was going to take off tomorrow evening, as Fiddler Green. They were going to give me a trailer, but I insisted on surviving under living conditions that were at least somewhat close to what my character had to go through. I was still going to have a healthy supply of food and water, of course, but I think that's the only important difference. Oh, and there's nobody trying to kill me.
The other day, I finally managed to get a decent amount of research in, so I think I basically know how this character would react, based on the historical stuff and on the script I was given. I can probably do the dialect without any trouble because he doesn't seem to use any slang. There are a few military terms, but I won't need those unless I'm talking to someone else in the military, and everyone in that desert is probably going to be there for the shoot. I'm done with my spaghetti now, so I put my plate in the sink and head to bed. After I'm sure I've gotten everything down pat, I try to drift off.
It really is a good script. I don't know yet exactly how this is all going to look by the end of it, but some of the battle scenes are looking like they'd call for a huge budget. I'm pretty excited to be a part of this whole thing, still. Mr. Cut knows what he's doing, of course. He's done six movies already. I've only seen three of them, but they were great. Still, it's quite a feat for any independent director to amass that kind of cash. I have a lot of respect for him as a director. People call him an eccentric, and I like that because it makes it feel like he knows something they don't. People have called me an eccentric before, but I don't have the reputation for it like he does. I guess I'll probably freak out when I wake up tomorrow. That's what I usually do. You've got to start the day off being someone else waking up in a strange bed, because method acting means never going half-way. I realize that I left the lantern on, so I reach over and grab it to blow the fireflies out. I watch them fly off into the night as I slowly fall asleep. Tomorrow, I'm not allowed to exist.
"CUT! Cut, cut, cut, cut, cut! What the hay am I looking at out there?"
"Why, I was rallying our troops to attack the vile barbarians that have set up a base at Nadira! Once I have sounded this-"
"Not you, Fiddler. You're doing fine. You're always doing fine. At least, I have to assume that you're doing fine, because I can't see your face because I hired a complete moron to work the boom mic! Do you ponies have any idea what it means to actually create a motion picture? Because I would really like to let you know if you don't, but I'm having a little trouble doing that when I have to work around some half-wit whose entire job consists of standing in one place holding something, and she can still find a way to screw that up! Whatever your name is, you can go make me a big pot of coffee while I have someone, literally anyone else here, hold onto that microphone, and maybe when you get back, you can get a nice lesson in standing around quietly, because apparently it's not the sort of thing that comes naturally to you!"
"Um, yes, sir. I'm sorry, sir."
I run off to fetch Mr. Cut his coffee, just like he asked. I have no idea how he wants his coffee and he knows it, of course, but I can't really do much but get it for him at this point. If I say anything else, it seems pretty likely that I'll end up fired. He's really angry.
I bump into a few other ponies on the way to the break room, and they aren't too happy about it, but I have to apologize and rush past. I'm right on the edge of losing my job, and if I do that, I'll probably never be able to face my mother again.
When I finally get to the break room, I look around for the coffee pot, and there's a roast already made, but it's cold, so I have to dump it out into the sink and start a new one. The break room consists mostly of a small counter with a built-in sink, a table with one chair, a trash can behind the door, and a large amount of supplies for making coffee. We have a much larger, nicer break room at the studio, but since we're filming out in a desert, we have to use a trailer. So, in the process of turning the machine on, putting the beans in, changing the filter, and adding the water, I probably fumble around the room for a good five minutes before I get everything ready. While I'm waiting for that to boil, I figure I should probably find a tray somewhere, and that way I can just bring him the cream and sugar with it, and that way, I won't have to worry about doing it wrong. Well, I look around and can't find one, so I eventually settle on a pizza box I find in the next room over. After it finishes brewing, I load it up with the coffee, cream, sugar, and stirring straws, and take it back outside.
As soon as I get out there, I trip over a cable. I can't say that I didn't see that coming a little bit. Everything that I had on top of my pizza box flies through the air, and I'm basically hoping at that point that I don't spill hot coffee on anyone important, but as soon as I fall over, Mr. Cut effortlessly levitates the coffee, as well as the sugar and one of the stirring sticks, as if he expected me to trip all along, and still wanted me to get hurt and have to clean the mess up. He doesn't even look at me. It's so humiliating, I'm almost ready to resign. I didn't want to look up to see if anyone was staring at me or not, but I could hear a few whispers here and there. I'm such a klutz, even I don't know how I manage to get by sometimes.
I just lie there for a while, and I watch the creamer spill out into the sand. After a few seconds, I see a brown hoof reach down and start picking up the straws. I look up to see Mr. Saddle, the star of the whole production, trying to help me out. I have to raise my voice to object.
"Oh! I'm so sorry, Mr. Saddle! I've got it, so please don't bother inconveniencing yourself for my sake! It's nothing, really!"
I frantically try to pick up everything and get the sand out of it before he can help me too much, but I still can't leave without picking up everything, and he has the containers for both the stirring straws and the creamer in his hooves, so I still have to wait for those.
He takes a handful of straws and shakes them off, and then he turns to me and in a flawless Trottingham accent, he tells me, "Actually, it's Green, but you're not the first I've heard make that mistake. I must have a rather striking resemblance to this Saddle fellow everyone seems to keep going on about. Regardless, it's no trouble at all, my lady."
"Oh... Um, of course." I keep forgetting that he's one of those method actors. I'm only making his job harder by calling him by his real name. "Thank you, Mr. Green," I say finally, smiling up at him.
I get up and brush myself off, and it looks like everyone is already packing up for the day. That's probably for the best, because it means my little accident won't call for a re-shoot. Luckily, I'm not wearing any clothes for the sand to get into. I'll be glad when we get out of this desert. As long as he's still standing there, I should probably try my hoof at some small-talk.
"So, I guess the shoot's over. Not a lot else to do out here, huh?"
"Hmm.... I do realize the... admittedly barbaric nature of some tribes may drive many members of so-called 'high society' to christen them some sort of lesser species, but I can assure you that they are not as such, and I do not appreciate the jaded nature of your comment one bit, miss. No, not even a bit. Even out here on this battlefield, a pony ought to have more respect for the lives of others. To imply that a shooting is something so casual as the means to keep yourself entertained is something grotesque. If that be your attitude, I would call you more a barbarian than any of these fine citizens."
As soon as he says this, he trots off. I somehow managed to say the exact wrong thing, and I'm still not entirely sure how. I head back to the break room and dump everything in the trash except for the straw holder. When I come back, everyone is standing around chatting, but Mr. Saddle is standing on the top of a dune, looking out over the desert. He's wearing one of those head-cloth things, and it looks really cool in the wind. I decide I should probably try to say something else to him. I have to be extra-careful not to make things worse this time, so I figure I should play along with his role. I really should have been doing that this whole time, but I can never seem to think things through quite so well. I canter up to where he's standing, and we just stand there in silence for a while, overlooking the desert. It's beautiful. The sun is just about to go down, and you can see the reflection everywhere on the golden sand. It's bright enough where you have to stare for a while to really see it, though. There's probably about to be a really beautiful sunset.
"I don't believe I've gotten your name."
"Oh, uh, sorry. I'm Skywishes."
"Is that all one word, or is your first name Sky and your surname Wishes?"
"It's all one word."
"Ah. Very well, then. I'm glad, you know. I don't dislike the name Sky, but it is a bit common."
"Um, I'm sorry about earlier, by the way. You were right. I shouldn't have been so callous."
"Worry not. It's a very easy trap to fall into. So long as you realize your mistake, it likely shan't be difficult to remedy."
I shoot him a puzzled look. I'm not sure about this, but I think that last line might have broken dialect a little. He doesn't seem to notice. Maybe it was just me.
"So, then, Skywishes, what is a young..." He pauses to look down at my cutie mark, "kite flyer such as yourself doing out in the desert?"
"Huh? Oh, that. Well, I don't actually fly kites. I do like to fly a lot, but I don't actually really know why that's considered my talent, to be honest. I've never been good enough to do it professionally. Maybe if I practiced, but I don't really care about going fast or doing tricks or anything like that. I just like to soar around for leisure. It's really not much of a talent at all. That's why I'm working the boom mic, and not- I mean, um, that's why I joined the force."
"I see..."
He doesn't seem to have anything to say in response, so we just stand in silence there for a while. The sun finally starts to set, and it's beautiful, alright.
"I have always wished to be able to fly myself, you know. I believe it is a rather common thing to wish. I've often though that I-" he pauses suddenly, and starts squinting into the distance.
"Is something wrong?"
"I... I'm not sure. Do you see that?"
He points as he talks, and I look to see a little dot on the horizon.
"Yeah, kind of. I can't really make it out, though."
"Nor can I. Perhaps you ought to fly up there and find out what you can see. It may be a sign of trouble. In the meantime, I'd better alert the forces, just in case."
He takes off as soon as he's done talking, and I fly in the direction of the dot, just like I was told. It's really hot out there, but I go as fast as I can because he's counting on me. I actually am interested to find out what it is, of course, but it's probably nothing because we aren't actually at war with anyone. As I get farther away from the set, I can faintly hear a cry of "To arms!" in the distance behind me.
Chapter 4: Blaze of Glory
"To arms, I say!"
I yell at the top of my lungs, but everypony on the set just looks at me like I'm a crazy pony. This is normal. I'm yelling like a crazy pony. Of course, that's not the reaction I'm supposed to expect, which means I'm now irate at everypony for their inaction in a time of potential crisis.
"Will none of you rise to defend your own bunker? What is the matter? A potential threat looms on the horizon, and we're all in severe danger until we can identify it! So, I say, take up your arms! Our scout shall return with news of this new development, and you must all be prepared to deal with whatever may come! Has each of you forgotten your training, or be this some kind of mutiny against your own heads, and those of everyone around you? Again, I say, to arms, and let nopony leave themselves uncovered!"
The few ponies who were still outside had retreated into their trailers while I was yelling, so I suppose I'm supposed to be grudgingly satisfied with that response. I figure I have plenty of time before she comes back, so I run and get a sword and sheath from the prop-room, but I hold the sword in my mouth intimidatingly until she gets back. I have to wait there for so long, my jaw is already starting to hurt from holding it by the time I see Skywishes flying back toward me. She looks completely exhausted, and she can't even seem to fly straight. I watch her flap her wings as hard as she can before eventually just crashing into the sand, about five yards away. I sheathe my sword and gallop over to her to see if she's okay, and she picks her face up out of the sand and starts panting heavily.
"I... you've... mmhm. You've got to send for help."
"What has happened? Is it dangerous? Are you hurt?"
She starts to stand up.
"It's... I'm fine. I've never... never seen anythi- anything like it. There was a griffin, and she had a spear, and she was... she was fighting th- this... giant.... worm thing. We need to do something, or, or, or she might get killed!"
"I'll go."
"You... you can't go out there by yourself. You'll get killed. This is-"
"If I don't go out there by myself, that griffin will get killed. If you want to bring reinforcements, you'll have to bring them yourself."
I start cantering toward the costume area to get some goggles. If I'm going to be fighting a worm-monster, I imagine there'll be a lot of sand flying around. Also, I'm going to die.
"I... okay, wait. This isn't part of the movie! You can't actually go! You're not a real war hero, and you're going to get eaten!"
I didn't think she'd be able to catch up with me, but I guess she must have regained her breath while we had been talking. I'm not going to pretend that I hadn't hoped she was still trying to play along up to this point, but it doesn't make much difference now that I've made up my mind. I'm fully prepared to save a life or die trying if I have to. Method acting means never going half-way.
I find a good pair of goggles and strap them on. To my surprise, so does Skywishes.
"Do you intend to come with me now?"
"No. I intend to get some help for that griffin and maybe save your life in the process, but goggles are a good idea."
"Hmm. Well, good luck, then, Skywishes. May we meet again."
She starts to object, but I'm already galloping away from her as quickly as possible, and I haven't really been listening anyway. I'm not trying to be rude, but I've got a lot to worry about, and probably not a whole lot of time left. I'm fairly confident this is exactly what the real Fiddler Green would do if he were here instead of me. This desert sure is massive. I wonder if they'll be mocking me or praising me for this tomorrow. I may still be acting, but I'm still laying down my life here, which means my blaze of glory is just as real as anyone else's, right? I wish this had happened a little closer to the set, so I didn't have to run so far, but it's finally coming into clear view now, at least. Oh, wow. It's still quite a way off. That thing is absolutely massive. It's also white, with a greenish tint. I was expecting it to be brown. I don't see that griffin yet. Wait, there she is. She's next to the face area. Huh. Actually, it's looking right at her. How did I miss that? Oh, wow. That thing's still partially buried under the sand, too. I wonder how long it is. I could be galloping on top of it now, for all I know. Just thinking about that gives me the whinnies. Okay, yes. I'm close now. Really, really close. I'm coming to the realization that I have no idea what I'm actually doing. How do I know when to stop running toward it? I guess I'll just pull my sword out and charge straight into it. It hasn't noticed me yet, because of that griffin. It's a good thing she can fly. It doesn't seem to be able to get to her. In fact, why fight it at all? She could just fly away. Actually, now the worm's slamming her into the sand with his forehead, so I guess she can't fly away right now, can she? Okay. I have to stab this thing right now, or it's going to eat her. Here goes.
"YEAAAAAAAAAAUGH!"
I try to yell something cool or heroic, but really, I guess noise is all I need, so it's not a big deal when that's all that comes out. I managed to fulfill my goal of distracting the worm-thing from the griffin. Now it's turned around and coming right at me and has a lot of teeth and I'm urinating. My sword is still stuck in the side of this thing, so I take it and move it to the side to leave the equivalent of a particularly nasty paper-cut on the torso-like area, whatever that's called. I don't know giant worm anatomy very well. I don't have enough time to pull my sword back out, so I just leave it there for a while while I try to run far enough away to not get immediately devoured by this thing. It turns out that's a little further than I had anticipated, but I kind of roll to the left as soon as it lunges at me, and I manage to get out of it with just a large scrape along the back-right hoof. I guess I'm actually doing this now, huh? Conveniently enough, after the way it just lunged forward, my sword is now on sticking out of the top of the worm-beast like a flag, and it's pretty close to where I'm standing, so I figure I'll climb up there and get it. The skin is predictably slimy, and it's a little hard to get up to it, but it isn't moving around much right now, so I'm able to get to the top without too much trouble, and retrieve my weapon. Just as I do this, I see the griffin run past me with her spear in her beak, headed toward the head, and motioning for me to follow. I comply. I slip more than once while I'm trying to run on that thing. By the time I catch up with her, we're standing on the head, and she's holding her spear in her talon, out toward me. I'm slightly worried I might slide right into it, but I don't.
"Take this," she tells me. "Jump down there and use it to keep his mouth open until I come back out."
"Wait, you want me-"
"No time to explain!"
She tosses it at me just as he rears his head back to buck us off.I catch it in midair with my hooves, and then she flies around and grabs me before I hit the ground. For one brief second, I thought I was about to die from trying to hold the spear and sword at the same time while I was being thrown into the ground, and now, I find myself flying in the opposite direction, and really more confused than anything else. Then I hear a voice behind me shouting at me, but I can't quite make out what she's saying.
"I can't hear you!"
"I said, 'are you attached to this sword?'"
"No, why?"
And with that, she reaches around and takes the sword from my mouth before letting go of me, right above the beast's mouth. I remember what she said earlier, and turn her spear sideways, so that it can't fall into the mouth. For almost two seconds, everything is a mass of teeth and dizzy, and then I realize I'm dangling right into the mouth from the spear that it can't fit into it, and it could close its mouth and kill me right now. I pull myself up onto the spear just as it seems to have gotten the same idea, but then it twists sideways, and I'm about to get thrown out, so I pull the spear back, and try to stab it in the side of the mouth, and somehow, I manage to land the hit without getting tossed. Then I just stand on top of it, and twist the spear so that it's as upright as it can possibly be. Since it's a little bigger than the opening, I have to stand on the teeth and keep pulling back, but since it's also bigger than me, I don't get chewed up in the process. It's not exactly comfortable, but I keep on pulling with all of my might, ignoring the fact that my hooves feel like I'm standing on razor blades. Then the griffin rears her head again, and with a little trouble, she manages to squeeze past me, into the mouth. I realize that before today, I hadn't ever actually touched a griffin before, but they mostly feel like you would expect them to, so I don't know why that thought popped into my head during a crisis. After about a minute, I don't think I can bear it any longer, and then she says she found it. I feel her come up behind me and ask if I'm ready for the fun part. I don't want to waste any breath by responding, but then I hear a series of disgusting ripping and gurgling sounds behind me that I can't quite identify, and she pushes me out of the mouth, along with her spear. I'm flying through the air again for a bit, and I fully expect her to grab me again, but she doesn't, and when I look back, she's frantically trying to wipe a thick yellow liquid from her wings. Then we hit the sand.
I lie there for a while with her on top of me, and after I'm done thinking about the extreme pain in my own nose, I realize that she's been there for quite a while, and should probably get off. I try to push her off enough that I can turn around and see what's going on. I find her grasping her left wing with a concerned look on her face.
"What happened?"
"I think it's broken. It hurts. A lot."
"Oh. Sorry."
"It's not your fault."
"Is it dead?"
"My wing?"
"No, that worm thing. Is it dead?"
"Oh. Right. The wyrm. No, it's not dead. It might die soon, though. I don't really know. I'm not a wyrm doctor."
"That sounds kind of familiar. Is that a song reference or something?"
"Huh? Oh, no, I don't think so. It totally could be, though."
"Yeah..."
I was just starting to realize how tired and sore I was from all the fighting, and now it's just dawned on me that I'm supposed to be in character. I kind of messed that up just now... I should think of a good way to cover myself. I let out a yawn. I'm really tired. I can hardly see the sun through these goggles now that they're covered in so much sand and wyrm-slime.
"Hey... I'm really tired."
"Yeah. Yeah, me too. Oh, and thanks, by the way. You saved my life."
"Yeah, don't mention it. What were you doing fighting that thing, anyway?"
"Well, I was just fetching this satchel. It's important. I'll tell you after..." she yawns, "after I've had a nap."
"Yeah.... that's a good idea."
I drift off, and as I sleep, the scene plays in my head over and over again, but it still feels like the best sleep I've had in a long time.
Chapter 5: Life and Death, Probably
"Mr. Cut! You've gotta come, quick!"
Huh. See, this is interesting. I don't normally like ponies barging into my office, especially ones that I'm not familiar with, but this girl kind of makes it work. She's got her arms, legs, and wings spread out, she's panting like she's been running, and for some reason, she's wearing goggles. Whatever she's about to tell me, it looks like it'll be good for a spit-take, so I make sure to drink coffee between sentences.
"Woah, there. Relax for a second. Why don't you catch your breath, and then you can tell me what this is all about, eh?"
"There's no time for that! It's Mr. Saddle! He just ran into the desert to fight off a giant monster!"
I spray coffee all over my office with my eyes wide open, just like I had anticipated. This is a big deal, alright. Mr. Daisy has probably already sent his associate down to check up on me, so if that kid runs off and gets himself killed, well, I've spent a few nights thinking about all the things he'd probably do to me, and most of them look better from a wide-angle shot. I wipe my face off, and start running out the door.
"We'll take a carriage!"
"Through the desert?"
"Hayseed, you're right. We're gonna have to hoof it."
"We'll never catch up with him."
"How far did he get?"
"I don't know. I had to stop and call for a response team."
"Good thinking. For now, I guess just keep leading the way."
The truth of the matter is that I'm not in particularly good shape, and I'm already worn out just from galloping a short distance and talking, but I can't let her see that. For all I know, this could be life or death for me, so I've decided that I'm going to keep heading forward, no matter how tired I get. I don't have goggles like this girl does either. I really wish she'd have grabbed me a pair of those. If I didn't need the energy that I had, of course, I'd just use magic to shield my eyes, but clearly, that isn't about to happen. I close my eyes so the sand can't get in them, and keep going in a straight line for about four seconds. Then I fall on my face.
"Are you okay? Come on, we've got to get moving."
"Yeah, I'm fine. Just give me a second to catch my breath. I'm not used to galloping around like you kids."
"Um... Mr. Cut, are you sure you need to come with me yourself?"
"Well, sure. Why wouldn't I? We've made it this far, haven't we?"
"But we haven't even left the camp yet..."
I wipe my eyes off and look around. She's right. We're still right there in the middle of the set. Luckily, pretty much everyone is already inside the trailers, or this would be pretty embarrassing.
"Perfect! Wait here for a second."
I rush over to the gray trailer, third from the left, where I know the stuntponies are hanging out. I grab a particularly large one and tell him to come back with us. I think his name starts with a "C." Anyway, that's not important. I have to pull on this guy to get him to hurry up, and he's trying to drink a glass of water, so that just kind of goes everywhere, but I don't care, because this is important. He's also saying something to his friends, but who's paying attention?
"Come on, now. I need you. This is life and death, probably!"
"Uh... what's going on?"
"I need you to fly me across the desert to save Blazing Saddle from a giant something! Now come on! We're getting some goggles."
After that, he finally stops resisting, so I guess he's figured out how serious this situation is, at least to some extent. We get to the changing room, and I have to rummage thorough the costumes for a good five minutes before I fnd two pairs of goggles, and Whatshisface doen't even help. I mean, he tries to a little, but he doesn't even go through any boxes. He just kind of stares at everything. Whatever. Next, we go back to that mare from earlier so we can take off. Seriously though, I've got to start asking ponies for their names.
"Okay, we're ready to go. Lead the way."
"Who's this?"
"He's going to fly me over there, and we're going to save the star of the show. Now get going. Chop chop. We don't have time to sit around."
"Um... okay."
With that, we take off.
I never did get the hang of being flown around, truth be told. I'm half-ready to lose my lunch just from looking at the ground the whole time, but the mise-en-scène is too beautiful to look away from. If you've never done it, you've never had to squint past your own mane to see your shadow maintain a perfect shape while it passes over dunes and valleys. You don't know what you're missing with that. It's totally worth the stomach-ache. I'm seriously mesmerized right now. Oh, man. I look up for a second, and the big lummox carrying me around is staring right at that girl's flank. Well, I suppose that's a good thing, actually, since she's leading the way. Otherwise, I might say something. It's not very gentlecoltly of him, now is it? Hmm. Gentlecoltly. That word doesn't sound quite right phonetically. It's probably the "ltl" it's got in there. Yeah. I want to add a scene to the movie where somepony is flying over dunes from this angle. It looks really nice. In fact, instead of just one shadow, I could have an entire armada, and play Ride of the Valkyries in the back for a really nice opening sequence. Not bad, Smash. Not bad at all. Hmm.
So, I'm just kind of letting my mind wander after a while,and that's when I turn to see what is almost, but not quite, the most horrifying thing I've ever seen. At first, it looks like an enormous white mass coming up out of the sand, like a beached whale being uncovered by the wind, or some second thing that's like that. I can usually think of more than one example, but I'm kind of preoccupied. You see, as I think this, I am also becoming increasingly aware of the fact that there is a giant worm headed right toward us from the left side. I yell for the two pegasi up there, but one of them is too far ahead to see him, and the other is too preoccupied to notice I'm yelling. Worms aren't supposed to have that many teeth. I figure it would be a good time to start flailing to get his attention. He wasn't ready for that. He loses his grip. I'm going to die a gruesome off-screen death while the audience winces slightly. To be frank, I think I deserve a bit better than that. Here he comes to grab me, at least. This would be a lot easier for him if he hadn't just noticed that worm thing. Let's hope for a good adrenaline rush here. Oh. Nope. Nope, he's flying away. That guy is incredibly fired.
Well, I seem to have lucked out in more ways than one here. Number one: The worm thing wasn't aiming for us. In fact, he looks wounded, now that I get a good look at him. This leads me to number two. If he's wounded, that means that someone put up a good fight against him recently, and that could very well mean that Blazing Saddle survived his little episode with the giant monster. Number three, and my personal favorite: I was born a unicorn, thereby enabling me to gently lower myself to the ground in situations such as this one. I don't die, and I don't even get a face full of sand. I love being me.
Except now I'm stranded in a desert.
Chapter 6: The Nature of The Mission
Whenever I wake up, I can never remember what happened right before I fell asleep for a little while. My memory's pretty funny like that. I'll probably forget about what I'm thinking right now when I'm more awake, which is a real shame, 'cause I'd like to know if I've ever been quite this baffled any of the other times. I bet not.
I'm lying in the middle of the dessert, first of all, and one of my wings is either asleep or broken. Plus there's some guy I don't recognize right next to me, and he's still asleep. At least, I think so. He's wearing goggles, so he could be awake, I guess. Whatever. I think I've got some kind of goo on me. It must be from that wyrm. Oh yeah. The wyrm. This pony guy helped me fight the wyrm, so I guess he's cool. Let's see the damages. Ah, geez. My wing is broken. Ugh. It could be worse. It could have been my spear. I need to check that bag, before I forget.
I stand up and check the bag, and the letter is still in there, but the corner of the envelope is wet. Eh, it's probably fine. I guess I need to get going if I'm gonna walk the whole way. Can't just leave this dude in the middle of the dessert, though. I shake him a little with my right talon to wake him up.
"Is something the matter?"
"Uh, kind of. Not really. I've got a thing to deliver, so I really gotta get going if I'm gonna make it in time. Figured I'd wake you up before I did. Anyway, see you around. Well, probably not. Thanks for the help back there."
I started to walk away, but to be honest, I don't even know if I'm going the right way. The moon's out, and I never learned to follow stars. I figure the brightest one I can see is probably north, so I start heading toward that. After a few seconds, he catches up with me.
"Excuse me, milady, but... will you be travelling the whole way on hoo- er, that is... on paw?"
I was pretty out of it after the fight, but it seems like we talked a little bit, and he wasn't talking all weird, but whatever.
"Yeah, I guess so. My wing's broke, so I don't have much choice."
"Do you have far to travel?"
"Well, yeah, quite a way. The Griffin Kingdoms, actually."
"What?! You'll never make it that far in your state! It simply cannot be done! You'd be mad to carry on without receiving medical attention!"
"Well, like I said, I'm on a schedule, so there's not much I can do about it."
"I take it this message is important, then?"
"Yeah, kinda..."
"How long do you have?"
"Well, three weeks total, so about two and a half right now."
"I see. I see. Very well, then. In that case, I would like for you to accompany me back to my camp, so we can arrange for transportation. It's not far from here, and it would be much faster than trying to cross the entire dessert by yourself, much less the entire nation."
"Well... yeah, okay. Thanks, I guess. Which way is it?"
"It should be right this way."
He starts walking in pretty much the opposite direction, and I follow him. Then he stops for a minute to take his headscarf thing off, and he holds it out to me.
"Thanks, but, uh, I don't really..."
"Your wing is in pain, is it not? I would have you take this to tie it up, to keep it from worsening."
"Oh, that. Well, thanks, I guess. You know, I can really hardly even feel it. I'd almost forgot it was there. Kinda seems to happen a lot."
"Well, you ought to tie it down, regardless. You face a lot of similar injuries, then?"
I take it from him, and tie it around my wing as best I can. It's not great, but it should do the trick.
"Ow. Geh. Eh, more or less. I'm always doing dumb stuff like today. It's not even the first time I've dropped that thing. I just happened to have the bad luck to run into that wyrm. But hey, it happens. Just wish I could get a shower out here."
"You will surely be allowed to bathe when we reach the camp."
"Oh, sweet. I didn't figure you'd have a shower out here. Hey, how big is your camp, anyway?"
"It's of a moderate size for a military outpost. We have afforded ourselves a few luxuries due to the length of our stationing."
"Woah, no way. I didn't know you were military. Rad. I am too, in a way, but only kinda. So, what rank are you?"
"Hmm... I suppose.... I suppose I'm a captain."
"What, you don't know?"
"Right. Sorry. I am a captain."
"Okay, cool. So, what's your name, then, Captain?"
"I am Captain Fiddler Green. What is your name and rank, then?"
"Oh, uh, my name's Nora, but we, like, don't really do the whole ranking thing for regular, uh... soldiers, I guess. It's kinda complicated. Hey, I think I might have heard that name somewhere. You're not famous, are you?"
"My exploits have reached many ears within relevant circles, but I don't believe I could call myself famous quite yet. Perhaps if our current operation goes as planned, I will be able to do so, but I should not arouse curiosity in such a way, as I cannot tell you the nature of the mission."
"Heh, alright, then. Anyway, how far away did you say it was?"
"It's just over three of these dunes from here. In the daytime, you would be able to see it with ease."
"Aw, cool stuff. Very cool."
We just sorta walk the rest of the way without saying anything. Nothing else to say, I guess. I actually figured he'd have some more questions to ask me, but apparently, he doesn't. He didn't even ask where I was from. Matter of fact, as far as he knows, this message could've been a war declaration against Equestria. I mean, it isn't, obviously, but he doesn't know that.
Once we finally to get there, it doesn't really look like any military base I've seen. It's a bunch of trailers lined up, and it doesn't look like they've got a whole lot of security either. There's a nightwatchpony with a lantern, but that's it. Fiddler walks up and talks to him.
"Excuse me, my good man, but might we have some spare chambers for the lady?"
"Oh. Mr. Saddle. I didn't recognize ya at first. Hey, have ya seen Mr. Cut out there, or that filly what works the boom mic, by any chance? Weavel says they probly both got eaten by a giant monster, but he wadn't too sure about the girl, seein' as how she can fly and all."
"I hadn't any idea they were out there until just now. How terrible! Which way did they go? I might be able to find them!"
"Well, they was goin' after you, from what I heard. Glad ta see you're okay, at least."
"We drove off the monster, but we didn't see either of them... something must have happened, or they would have returned here by now. The beast was close enough, I could see it from here."
I've been standing here silently this whole time, so I finally just say, "Hey. If they're out there in the dessert somewhere, they don't have much chance of anything happening. If that wyrm showed up wherever they are, they're already dead by now, but it wouldn't do much good to send out a search party this late at night either way. You can see forever out here during the daytime, and there's no other outpost for a long way, at least not in that direction. I would've seen it if there were before I had that run-in with the wyrm. For now, we might as well catch a few z's and send a few out when we'll be able to see them a little better. It's not like they're gonna die of thirst before morning, right?"
"The lady raises a fair point. General Cut should have no problem fending for himself, and I can attest to Private Skywishes's abilities personally, having recently worked with her on a reconnaissance mission. We will search at the crack of dawn, but no sooner."
"Uh. Alright. Whatever you say, Mr. Saddle... anyways, about that room a yers. You'll wanna put her with the female staff in the fourth trailer in the second row. If they ain't got any room, try the one next door."
"Very well."
And then we start moving again. After a while, I look back to make sure he's out of earshot. I can't see him, so I have to assume he is. I don't think ponies can hear as well as me anyway.
"Psst. Hey. How come that guy kept calling everyone Mr.? Don't you, like, outrank him? And why'd he keep calling you 'Mr. Saddle?'"
"Well, I, er... I must admit that particular guard is not very good at his job. However, I've never been the sort to report a stallion simply due to a lack of formalities, and as such, I decided to let him carry on... he, eh, probably simply had me confused with someone else."
"Oh... heh. That's a real laugh. This doesn't really look like I was expecting it to. It's all trailers and stuff. I guess that's probably how you'd have to do it when you're moving the base around a lot... hey, what's a boom mic, anyway? Is that some kind of new weapon I don't know about? It sounds pretty rad."
"Well, we're here now, so why don't you go ahead and see if you can't find a bunk somewhere."
"Oh. Uh, alright. Thanks for everything, dude. Uh, and goodnight. Hey, will they freak if I try and take this spear in with me?"
"Probably not. Just make sure you keep it with you. Goodnight."
Chapter 7: While You're Still Young
I'm starting to think I must have headed in the wrong direction. It was a lot easier to see where that thing was before I grabbed the goggles, and now I'm pretty sure I messed everyone up by trying to lead the way when I couldn't see properly. Mr. Cut is probably going to be pretty mad about that. I look back to make sure they haven't fallen behind. Huh. It looks like they actually have. That might be a good thing, because when I go back to find them, I can just lead them in the right direction now, hopefully. Of course, I still can't seem to make out which direction that is, but finding Mr. Cut and... that other guy is a little more important right now. I start flying back in the opposite direction.
Hmm. I probably should have checked a little sooner, I guess. I can't see them anywhere. Oh, it would help if I even knew how high up to look, but they could have landed, for all I know. I take off the goggles for a second to look around. Still nothing. Hmm. Oh, wait. There is something, but it's a little off to the side. Oh, wait a minute! That's Mr. Saddle and the griffin from earlier! It looks like they're just laying there, so we're probably safe. Unless they're dead. Hmm. Maybe I should check on them. They might need some medical attention. Well, I don't suppose it would do any good, actually. I'd still have to find Mr. Cut, and I wouldn't be able to carry either of them myself anyway. At least now, I know which direction to go. I was way off the first time. I search for about three minutes before I finally find Mr. Cut lying down on the ground in the shade of a nearby dune. The sun is almost completely down, so staying there really just makes him hard to find, and does nothing else. I fly down to where he's laying.
"Mr. Cut! Are you okay? What happened to your escort?"
"...uhh... Mother? Is that you? " he whispers up at me.
"What? No. Not even a little. Hey, come on, we've got to get moving!"
"Wait... I need... water. ...From over there! " As he says this, he points into a random direction in which there is certainly not any water for at least a few dozen miles.
"Um... Mr. Cut. You've only been in the desert for about fifteen minutes. There's no way you're hallucinating already."
"Shh... Please, just... let me rest. I never even... learned your.... naaaame. "
He lets out a sigh and his hoof drops as he says this last line, and he also coughs up a mouthful of sand. I've had just about enough of this.
"Mr. Cut! Stop horsing around! Mr. Saddles is out there, and he might be in serious trouble while you're over here goofing off! And why in Equestria were you eating sand‽"
He finally stands up. "Yeah, in retrospect, that may have been a poor decision, but hey, we've got no time to lose flappin' our muzzles out here either, so let's get going, kid. Which way were they, again?"
"Right. Just follow me."
We start trotting toward the place where I had seen them earlier, and I ditched the goggles. It was too dark to use them by now anyway.
"So, um, what about that pegasus you were with earlier? The big bulky one, I mean."
"That guy ran off at the first sight of that wyrm. I couldn't believe that guy. He doesn't know it yet, but he's totally fired."
"You can fire ponies for that?"
"Sure can, kid. Well, I'm pretty sure most of the stunt team around here is non-union, anyway. I was just thinking the other day about how hard it is to find good help, you know? Not like you, kid. You're true blue. I could tell by lookin' atcha that you're not the type to run away when someone's in trouble, see. Tell me, what do you do around here, anyway? I don't think I've seen you around."
"Oh, um, well, I just work the boom mic, so I'm not really-"
"The boom mic? You? No way! You oughtta be in pictures, kid, and I mean that. While you're still young. We can't have you behind the camera just holding up a stick. That's a mule- I mean, uh... that's a job for a schmuck. Matter of fact, just today, I had this one filly on that boom mic that kept on lowering it too far dow-," He stopped talking and squinted at me for a few seconds. "Whew. I'm really fumbling over my words today, heh heh. Well, anyway, the point is, kid, you could be a star if you wanted to. You've got the right aura about you. I've got an eye for it, see. Intuition."
"Oh, thanks a lot, but I don't think I could ever do what Mr. Saddle does. He's amazing. He can just... become another pony for a few months if he needs to. I don't think I've got that kind of... well, whatever it is he has."
"Nah, don't worry about that. You've got it. I can tell. You just don't know 'cause you've never tried your hoof at it yet. Trust me on this one."
"Well, if you say so...."
"Hey, kid. Between you and me, Blazing Saddle is the only actor in the world that does that whole 'other pony' bit. Everypony's somepony else when the cameras are rolling, sure, sure, but they don't take it home with them. He told me one time, he said 'method acting means never going halfway.' That's a load of hayseed. Nobody else does that. But still, you've got to admire the dedication he puts into that. What's your name, anyway, kid?"
"It's, uh, Skywishes."
"Skywishes! See, what'd I tell ya? That's a star's name right there. Skywishes! Imagine seeing that in lights, eh?"
"Oh, um, I thought the whole 'lights' thing was for theatre."
"You'll be in plenty of theaters! Equestria's Sweetheart! They're gonna love you!"
While we're talking, we come across a sword from the set and it's covered in a weird gooey substance.
"Hey, I think this is the sword he had with him. They must have already gone back to the camp."
"Impossible. We've been travelling in a straight line, haven't we? We'd have run into them."
"Umm... well, not exactly... before you fell down, we were kind of off-course, but uh, here, why don't we just follow the hoofprints?"
"Mmmhmm..." He frowned at me. "Fine. We'll just follow the hoofprints."
We head back in the direction of the camp, after the hoofprints. We don't say a single word until we get back. It looks like whatever happened, Mr. Saddle made it back to camp somehow. Mr. Cut waves to the nightwatchpony and starts toward his trailer.
"G'night, kid."
"Goodnight, Mr. Cut."
"Have a good one. Say, what did you say your name was? It seems like you told me."
"Skywishes, Mr. Cut."
"Skywishes. That's right. Heh. Yeah. You're gonna do great."
And with that, we part ways.
