Author's Note
I wrote this in an hour on nothing more than a whim. Can't say the result is half-bad.
Pick-axe man
*Grunt* *Cling*
Steve grunted, taking a deep breath before continuing on.
*Grunt* *Cling*
Steve reaffirmed his grip on the diamond pick-axe in his right hand before pulling it free. Reaching upwards, he slammed it into the castle wall with a satisfying Cling sound. Pulling himself up a bit, he ripped the pick-axe in his left hand free from the wall, taking a moment to look up before bringing it back and slamming it back into the castle wall. Digging his foot in to get a good grip, he pushed himself upwards.
He repeated the action multiple times, slowly but steadily making his way up the castle wall. While not the easiest way in, it was a much stealthier option, though it was better to be done at night, not in the middle of the day like he was. All he could hope for was that he wasn’t caught.
“Hey! Hey! Stop climbing the castle wall with pick-axes!!” A sudden shout made Steve’s gaze snap to the right, where he quickly located the source of the voice.
A gray earth pony guard glared at him from a nearby window, roughly ten or so feet from where the Crafter was hanging. Steve groaned in frustration. For good reason too, since it seemed Fate was out to get him. Sighing, he glared at the guard as he yelled back.
“Fuck you, I’m climbing your wall with pick-axes!”
“Why this wall?!” The earth pony shouted back.
“Why not this wall!?”
“You’re making holes in the brickwork, asshole!!” The stallion snarled.
“I’ll make as many holes as I need, look at me go!” Steve yelled, waving one of his pick-axe’s around.
“Just, go pick-axe somepony else’s wall!!”
“What does that even mean!?”
“Suck my dick, get off the wall!!”
“What, you gay or something?”
“It’s an expression!!” The stallion shouted, clearly frustrated. He waved his hooves around angrily. “Get the fuck off the wall!!”
“No, fuck you!!”
“Fuck you, what’s your name!!?”
Steve thought quickly, as he wasn’t about to give this random dude his actual name. “Pick-axe man!” He yelled.
“My ass!!” The guard responded, clearly not buying it. “What’s your name?!”
“Da da da da da, Pick-axe man, look at me go!!”
“Get off the Celestia-damned wall this fucking instant!!”
Steve gave a heavy sigh, groaning in frustration for a moment before responding. “Oh, for fuck’s sake, I can’t!!”
The guard gave him a confused expression. “Why the hay not?!!”
“I can’t go down, you dumbass, I can only go up!!” The Crafter yelled, pointing up with one pick-axe.
“What?”
“I got to reach the top, then rappel back down with my fishing rod!!”
“You can’t just turn around??!” The guard inquired.
“Of course I fucking can’t, what are you, stupid?!!”
The stallion gave him a look of disbelief. “It can’t be that hard!”
Steve glared at him, teeth grit. “I don’t see you climbing a fucking wall with pick-axes!!”
“Give me a minute!” The guard called out, before trotting away.
“What the hell are you doing?!” Steve asked, slightly confused. A few moments later, the guard returned with a plunger clutched in his teeth, causing the Crafter to give him a fixed gaze.
“I have a plunger!!”
“Oh, you’ve gotta be shitting me!! Seriously?!” Steve yelled, an expression of disbelief making its way onto his face. This stallion couldn’t be serious, could he?
“I’m coming for ya, bitch!!”
“Dude, that's not going to work at al!! You are going to kill yourself!!”
“Fuck you, watch me!!” The stallion shouted, eyes shining with determination. With that, the guard took a running start before leaping out of the window. For one second, he seemed to stay suspended in mid-air, almost like time itself stopped. Then he fell.
Steve stared at the falling stallion with an expression of incredulity on his face. “You know, for a Royal Guard, you’re pretty fricken stupid!!”
“Fuck you, I didn’t become a Lieutenant by being an idiot!! I have seven years of experience and…!!” The stallion was very abruptly cut off when he crashed straight into a tree, tumbling down its branches before slamming into the ground with a heavy thud!!”
“Ooooh.” Steve muttered, looking at the stallion’s unmoving form for a few moments before sighing. "Eh, he'll be fine, probably." He told himself. Shrugging, he brought back his pick-axe, readying himself to continue the climb, only to be interrupted.
“Hey!! Get the fuck down!!” A voice, obviously amplified by magic, shouted from down below. Groaning, Steve looked down to see two guards standing beside their fallen colleague, though he was too far up to see any details. It looked like two white blobs standing next to a gray blob.
“Suck my dick!!” The Crafter yelled back.
“This is illegal!!”
“I know that, but, uh, fuck you anyways!!”
“F-Fuck you!!” The guard responded, sounding slightly insulted.
“Fuck you!!”
“Fuck you!!”
“Hey, I wrote you a song!!” Steve yelled, simultaneously taking out the old guitar Trench had given him a while before.
“What?”
“It goes a little something like this!!” Steve strummed a few cords. “FUCK YOU!!”
A few moments later, instead of being yelled at again, the Crafter instead felt a bolt of magic slam into his back, knocking him off the castle wall. Biting his tongue to keep from crying out in surprise and pain, he quickly reached into his inventory. Grabbing a spare ender pearl, he brought his arm back before chucking it as hard as he could towards the ground. Moments later, he felt a familiar sensation in his stomach and he suddenly found himself face-planting onto the hard ground.
Shooting to his feet, he pointed a finger at the two shocked guards. “Ha! Fuck you, you can’t kill Pick-axe man! Look at me go!!” With that, he ran off as fast as he could. Neither of the guards moved, choosing instead to simply watch the Crafter speed away. It wasn’t until he had already disappeared from sight that one of them spoke.
“Well, son of a bitch.”
