The Grim Reaper Gives A Speech At Canterlot Brewery
Number Forty Thousand Coming Everyday
On a breezy, Autumn morning in Canterlot, Princess Celestia stood in her bedroom. “Who's a cute little Phoenix?” she asked Philomena as she pet her, ignoring the cold chill that filled the air. “You are! Yes you are!”
“Uh, Celestia, why are you talking to your pet like that?” A voice asked from behind the princess. “You realize they don't understand a thing you say, right?”
Celestia turned around and frowned at the Grim Reaper. “You know I hate it when you tell me that,” she said. “I share a very special bond with Philomena! We understand each other very much!”
“Right,” the Reaper replied. “Listen, I don't care about that accursed bird of yours—or the 'bond’ you share. I want to know why you had me come here, and am making me take time away from from my new found love of baking sugar cookies.”
“Oh, right!” Celestia said. “Well, after the success of your question and answer session at Ponyville Elementary, I decided that you should continue your friendship lessons!”
“So, I'm going to guess that I should have a booth at Canterlot Community College?”
“No, but I'll keep that in mind for a future lesson,” Celestia said. “Rather, I think you should go to the local brewery, and give a speech to the workers there! You know, about accidents and safety!”
The Grim Reaper shook his head. “You want me, the embodiment of death itself, to give a speech to a bunch of ponies who make drinks that teenagers typically have when their parents failed them—and who will soon be released onto society?”
“Now, now,” Celestia said. “There’s no need to be so cynical about these colts and fillies. They're the future of Equestria!”
“Celestia, I had to go send off a colt who thought it'd be a good idea to try to dry hump a cactus because he was that drunk—not to mention brain-dead,” the Reaper said. “Equestria’s doomed if this is who's succeeding the stallion’s and mare's of today.”
“This is exactly why I want you to continue your friendship lessons,” Celestia said sternly. “Your negative outlook isn’t healthy!”
“It's called being a realist,” the Reaper deadpanned. “Besides, those kids believe anything. I once saw a filly reading a tabloid that claimed the Griffin leader was a lizard!”
Celestia held a hoof up to her mouth as she held back laughter. “You’re joking, right?”
The Reaper shook his head. “I wish I was,” he said. “After swing so many ponies reading them though, I contemplated starting my own newspaper. Unfortunately, I don't think that ponies are interested in reading that Matt from accounting stole a voidbar from the local mart.”
“I bet Luna would be interested,” Celestia said with a smile. “Then again, she's also into those tabloids—so I bet she'd read anything.”
“Ah, yes, the mare once known as Nightmare Moon reads the papers that scared ponies into building shelters if she ever returned,” the Reaper said grandly. “I remember a few ponies died building them because they were too afraid to sleep after hearing a rumor that she'd kill them in their sleep.”
Celestia frowned and cleared her throat. “Anyways, let's move on,” she said. “To help with this lesson in particular, I’m going to have Twilight Sparkle accompany you!”
“Uh… don't you think that that's a bad idea?” the Reaper asked. “I mean, I am send her mother off a few weeks ago.”
“Grimmy, you mustn't worry,” Celestia said. “Twilight will be absolutely fine with accompanying you!”
The Grim Reaper let out a sigh. “This is going to be dreadful,” he grumbled. “Okay, I forget: where's your carriage?”
“It should be out near the courtyard,” Celestia said. “Twilight should be out there waiting.”
“You're sure that she isn't going to cry her eyes out when she sees me, right?” the Reaper asked. “Because the last thing I need is to listen to her cry about a loved one's death—again.”
“Grimmy, if she does, just endure it,” Celestia said. “For me?”
The Reaper let out a sigh. “Fine, but you'd better bake me some chocolate chip cookies when I get back.”
“Will do!” Celestia said. “Also, don't forget your spell so the workers can see you in all of your glory!”
“If by glory, you mean my millennia old cloak that I got from a thrift store,” the Reaper said. “And yes, I have the spell. Now, good day.”
Celestia watched as the Reaper walked towards the door. “You'll one day learn how to be more affectionate,” she said to herself.
“No I won't,” the Reaper yelled back before he left the bedroom. He trotted down the hallway and made his way towards the castle courtyard. “Alright, let's see.” The Reaper looked around and eventually found the carriage. “Ah, there we go.” He walked over and opened up the door. He got in and sat across from Twilight Sparkle, who had a frown on her face.
“I know why you're upset and, well, I'm sorry,” the Reaper said. “But, it was her time.”
Twilight let out a sigh as the carriage took off. “Yeah, but… did she have to die?” she asked as tears welled up in her eyes.
“Twilight, if I didn't take her away, she would've fallen into a coma and been nothing more than a vegetable,” the Reaper said. “Now, unless your idea of visiting your mom is seeing her motionless body in an eternal slumber, I did what I had to do: which was poke her stomach and watch her fly off the Great Beyond like a butterfly does from flower to flower.”
“It's not fair!” Twilight cried. “Ponies who go into comas have woken up before! She would have too!”
“Ponies that go into comas are typically at my doorstep,” the Reaper said. “Now, sometimes, they aren't, and they're in limbo—lost, and without guidance. Your mother, however, would've been knocking on my door because she was very sick. Alas, when your immune system is weak like hers, pneumonia can be fatal more quickly than it normally is.” The Reaper sat back in his seat and looked at Twilight. “So, again, I'm sorry. If it wasn't for the fact that I still had the power to kill you, I'd give you a hug.”
Twilight wiped away tears from her eyes. “I'll get over it,” she said. “I can't let it get in the way of this.” Twilight sat up and took a deep breath. “Anyways, I'm supposed to act as something of a mentor for you when you give this speech. Do you have one planned?”
“Wait, you think I'm going to write up a speech?” the Reaper asked. “I'm doing this impromptu, just like I do everything else unrelated to reaping one's soul.”
Twilight stared blankly at the cloaked pony for a few seconds before she facehoofed. “You're joking, right?”
“Twilight, I'm the embodiment of death,” the Reaper replied. “I’m more honest than I am a jokester. Unless I'm talking about marshmallows. Then I lie about how much I like them.”
Twilight let out a sigh. “This is going to end poorly,” she said.
“Yeah, I know,” the Reaper said as the carriage landed outside a large factory. He cast the spell to allow all mortal beings to see him before he said, “It’s not my fault though. It was Celestia's idea.”
“Can you at least promise that you won't be too harsh when it comes to how you word things?” Twilight asked as she ran up to the Reaper’s side.
“Heh, no.”
“Please?”
“Nope.”
“Why not!?” Twilight asked, frustrated.
“Twilight, they're fully grown stallions and mares,” the Reaper said. “They can handle the truth—no matter how much it may suck.”
“You’re not going to listen to me, are you?” Twilight asked with a frown.
“If you keep badgering me about how I word things, no.”
“You're almost as bad as Rainbow Dash,” Twilight said as she and the reaper entered the brewery. “Only, you don't have an ego.”
“I used to have one, but that was millennia ago,” the Reaper said as he looked around the brewery, which looked old and decrepit. “Geez, this is… depressing.”
An earth pony stallion with a blue coat and a mug of beer ran up to the duo. “Ah, Princess Twilight!” he said with a forced smile. “And… Death. Welcome to Canterlot Brewery! I'm Al. The owner and proprietor of this brewery!”
The Reaper chuckled. “Is that short for ‘Alcohol’?”
“No, it's short for Alan,” Al replied with a frown. “Anyways, Celestia sent a letter saying that you'd be coming! Please, follow me,” he said as he began to walk towards a hallway. “The workers are in our training room.”
“Uh, don't you think that stopping all work is a bit counterproductive?” Twilight asked as she followed Al.
“We're the best brew making company in Equestria,” Al proudly said. “We can make up for lost time in the blink of an eye.”
“I eagerly await your inevitable chapter eleven filing,” the Reaper said with a snicker.
Al let out a sigh. “You’re a real charmer,” he said under his breath. He approached a large door and turned to face the duo. “Anyways, we're here. The employees are inside, and about as excited to meet you, mister Reaper, as they usually are to receive severance pay.”
“Wow, that's a lot better than I usually get,” the Reaper said. “I'd be flattered if the feeling wasn't mutual.”
Al turned his attention to Twilight. “Is he always like this, your majesty?”
“Pretty much,” Twilight said with a sigh. “I asked him to try to act nice, but he's as stubborn as my dad is when it came to hoofball.”
Al rolled his eyes and opened the door. “Just don't make the employees too nervous,” he said as he walked away.
The Reaper and Twilight both entered the room, which was grey in color, and had several desks inside. “Oh, boy, another classroom!” the Reaper said as he stood at the front of it. He cleared his throat and adjusted his cloak. “Alright, I'll cut to the chase: your boss is a real jackass and I think you'd be better off with that guy-” he pointed to a stallion who was fast asleep- “as your boss.”
Twilight facehoofed. “Those are your first words to them?” she asked, frustrated.
“Yeah! I like Al!” an earth pony stallion said. “Then again, he is my father in-law.”
“Fine, fine,” the Reaper said. “Allow me to introduce myself: I'm the Grim Reaper and I'm going to give a speech to you all today about workplace safety and all of that malarkey.”
“Why are you going to teach up about stuff we learned before we got hired?” a unicorn mare with a purple coat asked from the back of the room.
“Because Celestia thinks I need to learn how to be more sociable with the living—despite the fact I'm the embodiment of death, and everything I touch dies like your hopes and dreams did when you left college.”
Twilight let out a nervous chuckle. “He doesn't really mean that, everypony.”
“Oh, I mean it,” the Reaper said. “Let's face it, you're all in your thirties, forties, or fifties, you work in a brewery, and I'm ninety nine percent sure that the infrastructure is being held together by duct tape and the tears of teenagers who just found out that their aspirations to become rich are nil.”
“My cousin became rich after she got out of college!” the purple coated unicorn yelled. “So… yeah.”
“Good for her,” the Reaper said. “Now, before I begin my speech.” The Reaper walked over to the sleeping employee. He slammed a hoof on his desk and waved to the employee. “Rise and shine, bud,” he said.
The employee shook as he stared at the Reaper. “Um… sorry,” he said sheepishly.
The Reaper shook his head and walked back to the front of the classroom. “Workplace safety is a lot of things. How competent you are, how safe your working environment is, and if your coworkers hate you enough that they'll take a pair of scissors and drive them through your neck because you stole their lunch.
“Now, of course, you can always avoid these things by being careful, making sure your boss isn't using funds that should go towards maintaining a safe workplace on illegal gambling and prostitutes, or not working with a psychopath who believes a cheese sandwich is worth murdering his best friend of fifteen years. I'd say that last one is the easiest, but I'm pretty sure someone here would do that if it's a damn good sandwich.
“Also, make sure you always wear protective gear while working. In your folks vase, I think that's simply not drinking whatever supply you have.” The Reaper looked at the employee's. “Any questions?’
The purple coated unicorn mare raised a hoof.
“Yes?” the Reaper asked.
“Is that your entire speech?”
“Yeah, why?”
“You're a terrible speech giver,” the mare said.
Why thank you,” the Reaper said. “I know.”
Twilight let out a sigh. “Please, everyone, be kind,” she pleaded.
“Twilight, it's fine,” the Reaper said. “I’ve been through worse.” He looked back out at the class. “Now, I'll take any and all questions unrelated to my speech giving abilities.”
The once sleeping stallion raised a hoof.
“What's your question, sleepyhead?”
The stallion frowned. “Why is princess Twilight here if she has no restrain over what you say?”
“Because Celestia sent her,” the Reaper said. “Something tells me she's going to need a lot of booze to get the memory of today out, though!”
“Grim, I don't drink,” Twilight said.
“Oh, well, never mind,” the Reaper said. “Any other questions?”
The class remained silent.
“Well, this is actually a bit depressing,” the Reaper said. “Alright, I guess that's that,” he continued, glumly.
The employees got up and left the classroom, leaving Twilight and the Reaper alone.
“Well, I actually thought that would go better,” the Reaper said. “Where did I go wrong?”
“While I admire your bluntness, you came off as rather aggressive and perhaps even a bit insulting,” Twilight said. “But, hey, you at least gave your speech! Right?”
The Reaper let out a sigh. “I’m more baffled as to why I feel disappointed,” he said. “Oh well, let's just go.”
Twilight frowned as she watched the Reaper walk out of the room. “Grim, you're still learning how to interact with other ponies,” she said as she ran up to his side. “You can't expect yourself to be a master of doing this kind of thing so quickly. I'll admit, you didn't do very well. Your speech was ridiculously short, rather hollow, and felt more like a joke than a serious lecture on workplace safety.” Twilight walked in front of the reaper and looked up at him. “But, you have to look on the bright side: you at least gave it, and you learned a lesson—which was the point of this whole trip!”
The Reaper looked down at Twilight, who gave a sheepish smile. That's when he did something hd hadn't done in millennia.
He himself smiled.
“Yeah, you're right,” he said, a hint of joy in his voice. “Thanks, Twilight.”
“You're welcome,” Twilight said happily. “Now, let's get back to Celestia. I think she’ll be ecstatic to hear about this!”
The Reaper nodded. “Just know this doesn't mean I will be any less bluntly honest than I am,” he said.
“I didn't think so,” Twilight said with a giggle. “So, where do you think Celestia's going to send you next?”
“An aquarium,” the Reaper answered as he walked down the hallway. “Or the IRS.”
“I bet you'd be great with the dolphins,” Twilight said. “Just as long as you don't try to pet them.”
“Eh, I was never into dolphins,” the Reaper said. “I prefer octopi as far as sea life goes. They've always fascinated me.”
“How so?”
“Lots of arms, and they look like a frisbee fused with a mushroom.”
“That's, uh, an interesting description,” Twilight said as she walked out to where the carriage was waiting she walked over to it and got in. “If you don't mind, I'd like to rest my eyes on the way back.”
“Not an issue,” the Reaper said as he hopped. “I sometimes envy you living beings though. Sleep sounds wonderful.”
“It can be,” Twilight said. “Nightmares aren't fun though.”
The Reaper merely nodded as Twilight shut her eyes. With that, the carriage took off and headed back towards the castle.
A little while later, the carriage landed outside the castle. Twilight opened her eyes and yawned. “Already?” she asked sleepily.
“Twilight, the ride to and from the brewery was about five minutes,” the Reaper deadpanned. “That said, yes. We're back, and I must say: you were out like a light.”
“Well, I did worry that somepony was going to try and punch you,” Twilight said. “I've seen enough recklessness from some friends that I expected the worst while you spoke to the employees.”
“You know, in all of my years of reaping souls, I've never had a pony do that,” the Reaper said. “I did have a wolf once bite me though.”
“What happened to it?” Twilight asked.
“It died.”
“Figured,” Twilight said as she and the Reaper got out of the carriage. They walked to the castle and entered it.
“Welcome back,” Celestia said, much to their surprise. She held out a tray of chocolate chip cookies, to the delight of the Grim Reaper. He levitated one over and devoured it. “So, how'd it go?” Celestia asked.
Twilight looked over to the Reaper, who sighed. “Today I learned that, sometimes, it's wiser not to be as blunt as a two by four, and that you should watch how you word things,” he said. “Also, it's probably better to write up a speech before you give one. That's on you though, Celly.”
“You could've written one on the way there,” Celestia said.
“I doubt I could've written an adequate one in that time,” the Reaper replied.
“I wasn't expecting you to give an award winning speech,” Celestia said. “Just a simple workplace safety lesson.”
The Reaper looked at Celestia, then down at Twilight, who smiled. He glanced back up at Celestia. “Well, I could've done worse,” he said. “I could've had you sing for them.” With that, the Reaper teleported away.
Celestia looked at Twilight. “I'm not that bad, right?”
“Truthfully, princess,” Twilight said. “Yes, you are.”
