Machinegum 1

Chapters

11 - Beginning of What's About to Happen
12 - House of Rooms
21 - The Rain Song

11 - Beginning of What's About to Happen

For most of Pony existance, it has been an unspeakable horror to ingest non-fish based meat products. Not because of any biological mechanics, mind you, they can digest meat just fine. Rather, they simply feel far too squeemish to really go through with sinking their flat, grinder-based teeth into the neck of a small woodland creature, and then pushing their teeth together until a combination of pressure and bodily disintegrity causes the aformentioned neck to rapidly collapse with a pop as warm, salty blood flows into their mouths, and bits of miniaturized woodland spine are ground into a fine powder by their powerful molars.

Why this same sympathy does not extend to fish is a mystery to most, and indeed, has puzzled Pony anthropologists for many years. Of course, they often tried to find some sort of philosophical answer about "ethics," or the "sanctity of life," and such, but, much to their self-rightous dismay, the answer is, in fact, much simpler than that:

Fish can't cry.

Of course, none of this applies to Spike the dragon, who, due to a hefty amount of pony racism, is seen as a partial savage because of his more reptillian demeanor, and thus certain social standards and such do not apply to him. Nevermind that he is often of a more mature constitution than his friends, he's a dragon, and as we all know, dragons are just dumb, treasure-obssessed hot-heads with no sense of self control or self-awareness.

Spike, is, of course, eating non-fish-based meat products like the total savage he is, despite our preconceived notiens of his people, because much like some people of a more child-oriented-entertainment, periphery demographic mindset, he doesn't care what you think about what he likes. It just tastes good, and in the world of the dragonese culinary arts, it is the taste of the food that takes the utmost precedence. It is also pertinent to point out that the Dragon Lands have the highest obesity rates in the world, but that is neither here, nor there.

No, what is here, and soon to be there, is Spike. Long famed for being the hero of the Crystal Empire, Princess Twilight Sparkle's numero uno assistant, and the five-time reigning champion of the International Pin Endurance Consortium's Advanced Competitionary, Spike feels no need to observe the typical pony custom of meat abstinince, and no pony feels the need to correct the eating habits of the reigning IPECAC champion. After all, would you mess with a dragon who ate chicken and waffles for breakfast?

Of course, that isn't what Spike is concerned with right now. He is, as he is every morning, concerned with eating chicken and waffles, right in front of his mossisaster, Twilight Sparkle of the Sparkle family line, who watches in thinly veiled discomfort as her little bronssistant eats the flesh of an innocent animal whom was previously cut up into wet, bloody pieces, rubbed with flour, breadcrumbs, and the remains of it's unborn children, and then dropped into boiling oil until the bread and skin had solidified into a psuedo-shell, at which point the pieces of breaded, fetus-fried chicken was served on a plate with a side of waffles and some boisen berry syrup.

Twilight is, naturally, dying inside as she watches Spike's display of total savagery, but she is powerless to stop him due to his biological needs dictating that he needs to eat non-fish-based products in order to not contract an unhealthy case of death and to, indeed, keep being alive. So, while Twilight may not like Spike's eating habits, much like her former foalsitter's promiscuous behaviour with the entire Crystal Gaurd, stopping it would be an exercise in futility so great that it would make the Chainese Wall meant to repell the Gryphonstonian hoards look like a foal desperately screaming at their "Where's Wall Dough?" book.

Thus, Spike remains oblivious to the discomfort of Twilight as his teeth tear through the flesh and bones of a small, presumably avian, bird. There are no negative consequences, as his body breaks down the bird's remains into energy to be used through out the day to organize, shelve, and browse hundreds and hundreds of books, bingies, and bobbles accumulated up to this point through numerous uneventful adventures. After all, it is his job as assistant that drives him in life, and he must be in relatively above average shape in order to perform that job which gives his life purpose to the absolute best of his potential abilities.

So he eats, with no particular worries or anxieties about the day ahead, and no reason to acquire said worries or anxieties. He is healthy and well adjusted, and his life is simple, easy, and makes sense to him as an even exchange of his organizational skills and companionship for food, shelter, and unconditional love from his unmother-notsister, which he appeciates immensely. He has few fears, and in the moment where he finishes his breakfast, he even looks to the day with great optimism as his eyes shine brightly, and he mentally prepares himself for another beautiful day of indentured servitude to a mare whom he loves as a mother, sister, and boss, and whom loves him, he infers, in a similar manner, and holds no bones about his current position in life

Spike stretches his legs, ready to begin his day as an assistant to one of the most powerful ponies in Equestria, and he gets out of the crystalline chair which he had been sitting on whilst he consumed the flesh of avian creatures, doused in their own ovaries, and prepared in boiling oils. He was energized, well rested, and readied to wash his plate, and he continues to be all three of those things as he washes his plate, and soon washes Twilight's plate, who found that her appetite had slowly returned after that morning's grizzly demonstration of the deeply-seaded, uncivilized nature of Spike's dragon identity.

Of course, Spike didn't know about how Twilight, or really any other pony, felt about dragons, and thus, him, and so he never noticed any sort of discomfort. Indeed, as far as he was concerned, life was good.

His life was fair, and made sense.

12 - House of Rooms

One thing that is interesting to note about Equestrian architecture is that, for well over a hundred years now, the generally accepted core principle has always been to find an effective and economic way to blend practical efficiency with simple, but effective and distinct, aesthetic pleasure. Of course, most common ponies don't ever notice this, and the ones that do often won't be able to tell you why their houses and businesses are built in such a way as to countain the most amount of things, in the smallest amount of space possible, all whilst maintaining the artistry that goes into interior and exterior design, but the reason is, infact, not incredibly complex.

You see, sometime before the turn of the last century, Canterlot experienced an unprecedented economic and population boom, due in large part to having succesfully expelled a multitude of seperatist dragon groups who had broken off from the Dragon Lands, due largely to idealogical dissatisfaction with the then current Dragon Lord, and had turned to raiding the Equestrian countryside whilst trying to maintain a presence outside of the Dragon Lord's sphere of influence. As Equestria's, and more specifically Canterlot's, economy and population began to grow due to the optimism generated in the Equestrian zeitgeist by the repulsion of the Dragon Raiders, as well as advancements in manufacturing, it started to become rapidly apparent to all but the most oblivious of nobles that the rate at which ponies were being entered into the workforce would soon be far outpacing the rate at which houses and apartments could be built for them to live in. Thus, many Small-Town Canterlot business owners began operating their businesses from within their own homes, in anticipation of the younger generation soon to swamp the country with consumers and providers.

Because of the Canterlot elite's insistance on only shopping in the most high-class, truely patrician establishments, many old and young entrepenuers decided that it would be best to decorate with and maintain a certain degree of aesthetic fidelity, whilst also being available at any time of day or night, should the need arise. This resulted in the first floor business, second floor living quarters model seen in Equestria today, as more and more ponies began demanding that their homes and businesses create a comprimise between efficiency and artistry, much like the Canterlot establishments they intended to emulate. Two generations after this trend appeared, it became the accepted norm for most local businesses, and is seen as the default configuration most commonly in the areas surrounding Canterlot, such as Ponyville.

Of course, when the Magical Friendship Box of Friendship created Twilight Sparkle's castle, it felt no need to conform to the efficient mindset of the average Equestrian citizen, and with it's blinding crystalline walls, and hallways stretching on for far longer distances than any reasonable pony would be willing to walk in this day and age, it plainly mocks the Equestrian architectural ideals of efficiency, utility, and aesthetic awareness. After all, with so many rooms, and so little idea as to what would be in those rooms, any self-respecting architect would fall to the ground in wild convulsions, as a seizure-inducing rage would cloud their minds, likely causing them to bite their tongues and grind it into a delicious, fleshy pulp, which they will likely proceed to choke on as the blood would fill their lungs, making them unable to breath, and causing suffocation and brain damage to set in, ultimately culminating in a severe case of extreme death.

Which is to say, Twilight's castle is so badly designed, it has become a genuine hazard to public health.

Of course, due to years and years spent carrying ink, cardboard, and solidified wood-pulp on his back in order to assist in creating the life of relative comfort which Twilight Sparkle lives, Spike has no issue navigating the castle's sprawling hallways and passages. His dragon body's natural structural fidelity, combined with years of hard physical and mental labour that would be, quite literally, back breaking to some ponies, has led to him being fully capable of walking from one end of the castle to the other at a relatively sedate pace. Of course, this endurance doesn't necassarily translate to great physical apptitude, but for the purposes of day to day servitude to a pony whom he deems to be a reasonable authority figure in his life for the majority of the time, his physical abilities are entirely adequite and reasonable.

Granted, being physically able to handle the castle, and being mentally ready to handle the castle, are entirely two different things, and while he does find himself getting lost much less than the average pony would, he still ocassionally finds himself in a bit of navigational trouble from time to time. Due to spending a large portion of his days wandering the many hallways of the crystal castle on small errands for Twilight, he is probably more familiar with it's layout than any other pony, or person, in the world. There is, of course, only one pony whom could rival his knowledge of the castle.

Starlight Glimmer is a strange pony. Much of her time is spent either wandering the halls of the crystal castle in search of no one thing in particular, or spending time with her small cluster of equally socially dysfunctional ponies in her own little kingdom of personality-impaired individuals. That is to say, she doesn't have a very extensive social life. She has friends, yes, but she often finds herself alone in the castle with Spike due to being the least, or most, busy of her friends at any one given point in time, and not having much aside from magic and books to pass the time with.

"Hey Starlight, which way is the kitchen, again?" Spike asks.

Starlight smiles pleasently at the little dragon whom she has found to be friendly and innocent, compared to what she has been told most dragons to be like, and points him in the direction that he needs to go. She watches as he walks away from where he was with a called-back "Thank you!", and she finds herself somewhat curious as to where the stigma against dragons come from, considering that the only dragon that she knows has been so consistantly pleasent and responsible, especially considering the fact that he is, supposedly, still a baby, biologically speaking.

Of course, she too has somewhere to be, and goes off to search for a strategically placed window or door so that she can leave the castle and see Trixie or Maud, filing the dragon research off for another time.

21 - The Rain Song

The weather holds a special place in Equestrian culture as one of the many symbols of pegasus pride, as well as being a useful tool to Equestria in both times of peace and otherwise. For many years pegasi, and by extension, Equestrians, have been manipulating the weather through the use of magic so as to provide farmers with unfailing harvests, prevent droughts, and to even cause floods in areas where regular flooding is required to sustain the ecosystem. Indeed, there are very few ponies who would be willing to argue as to the sheer utility of weather manipulation, and those that would are likely either extreme naturalists, or otherwise not of the inclusively-inclined ilk, in regards to pegasi and other, more wingless and hornless races of pony.

That being said, nobody ever said that the weater system in place in Equestria today is perfect. Indeed, it is actually quite antiquited, having been largely unaltered on the organizational level since the original Pegasusanid Empire first created it thousands of years before the Unification, and as part of the Unification Qualification Specifications, will remain so until such a time where the current model would be rendered unsustainable. This, naturally, never came to pass, and with exception of a few additions of technology to make the production of weather easier, the system of weather delivery and implementation continues to be done by hoof, as per the stipulations made so many generations ago.

The main problem, however, is not how terribly inefficient the current weather system is, but rather the frequent scheduling conflicts between county weather comissions, and city governments. Often times, many non-pegasus citizens will have made plans on the days that just so happen to have had rain already scheduled on top of them, and that's not mentioning the many local parades that these plans are made around. This is, after all, where the saying, "I'd hate to rain on your parade, but... ", omes from, as actual physical ponies often actually physically rain on actual physical parades after actually physically saying those words. Of course, there are also ponies who simply do not check the county rain schedule for days on which they make plans, and end up being made stuck in whatever household they just so happen to been at the time.

There are also, of course, those who simply do not think to check, in their hurried worry to not be late to their regal duties in other parts of the country, and end up stranded due to rain slicking the train tracks leading to Ponyville. Naturally, Twilight Sparkle did not mean to get herself stuck in Canterlot over the weekend, but she had somehow overslept due to regal studies the day before, and thus, had opted to get to Canterlot as quickly as it was physically possible to do, and had, of course, forgotten to check the rain schedule. After all, if she had known she would be gone over the weekend, she wouldn't have left Spike to take care of the castle with Starlight Glimmer's small kingdom of misfits and jollyranchers.

It's not that Twilight doesn't trust them, of course, Celestia literally knows that sometimes Spike is more reasonable than either Starlight or herself put together, it's just that she doesn't feel entirely comfortable with having castle and home being watched over by her student and her dragon. She knows both of them have made great progress, Starlight in shedding her former villianess skin, and Spike in adopting true pony civility, but every now and again, when Twilight sits alone in her room in the dead of night, with nothing but the lamp on the ceiling and the soft breeze outside to keep her company, some sort of doubt creeps up on her.

Twilight watches a baby moth, smaller than the tip of her ear and quieter than the lightest feather, slowly rise towards the ceiling lamp whilst flying in a circular motion; eventually, the moth will hit the ceiling lamp, and fall back down again, only for the cycle to repeat endlessly in the middle of her Canterlot tower room. She can't help but see Starlight and Spike in the baby moth, trying desperately to reach the light, before plummeting, physically incapable of reaching it. Twilight knows that it isn't good for her to think that way, of course, but knowing something, and feeling something, are two very different things, and with rain clouds over the lower ends of the mountain, she can't help the way she feels.

As she ponders the parable of the Little Moth, it finds a little nook inside the lamp, where many years ago a weary maid had unknowingly chipped the glass, and it crawls inside, finally reaching its light. Twilight doesn't see this, and she assumes that the baby moth went elsewhere, presumably into the hallway, to find its much coveted light. She turns over and looks out the window, and she, naturally, closes her eyes, as most ponies who intend to sleep would, and attempts to banish the little moth from her mind as she drifts off into slumberlands unknown.

Very far away, in a little town known as Ponyville, a young dragon named Spike curls up in his doggy-bed. He had spent most of his day rained in, playing games with Starlight and Owlowicious, and was, of course, quite tired. After all, with the lack of his mother figure the past day and a half, as well as a severe case of the nothing-to-dos, most ponies would be tired. Of course, Spike is also still biologically a baby, and thus, would naturally need more sleep than the average pony, but this just means that, obviously, Spike is very tired.

His eyes train on the window wich would normally be facing Canterlot. He had had his fun with Starlight the last two days, but now he can't wait for Twilight to come home to give him something to do, and to give him gems and gem-flavoured food items for no meal of the day in particular. Spike closes his eyes and smiles, thinking of his not-mother not-sister.