You Break Something, You Fix It
Torque Wrench plopped her toolbox on a stool by the door to her workshop with a great metal clang. She tossed the letter she’d received in the mail onto an empty space on her workbench – she’d been too tired to check who the sender was.
She wheeled over a chair and flopped down in it, ready to unwind after a day of repairing and maintenance. However, her eyes kept glancing at the letter, her lower jaw working as she thought.
Folks in Hope Hollow—especially nowadays—were too personal for letters. If they needed anything, they’d ask her directly. It could be from family, but she hadn’t heard much from her folks in recent years.
Torque Wrench scooted the chair over and flipped the letter onto its front, her eyebrows shooting up in surprise. “Applejack?” she asked the letter, reaching for her letter opener. “What’s all this about now?”
She sliced open the envelope on its creased end and pulled out the letter, unfolding it. Her eyes skimmed the page as she read.
“Howdy, Torque Wrench,” Applejack wrote. “It’s been a few weeks since my friends and I left Hope Hollow. Figured I’d write to you and see how things were going. Things are alright here at Sweet Apple Acres – my family and I have been trying all sorts of new apple recipes from our relatives. You ever try anything new? Anyway, I’d love to hear from you soon. Sincerely, your friend, Applejack.”
“Tryin’ something new?” Torque asked, sitting back in her chair. She stared at the words for a moment before searching the workbench, and then her workshop, for a quill, ink, and stationary.
As she set up the papers, and just before the quill tip touched the parchment, she paused. “Hmm, would Applejack be interested in such a story?”
She glanced over at an advertisement she’d received from Kerfuffle’s boutique yesterday. In the end, she shrugged. “Eh. If she’s got the time to write to me, might as well.”
And so she began:
“Howdy, Applejack. Funny you should mention trying something new. Last time I did, it didn’t turn out so well. It was a few Rainbow Festivals ago, actually. I was always making some kind of new whatchamacallit or other back then, so I decided to make something for the new neighbors…”
“I get that you want to be neighborly, Miss Wrench,” Mr. Hoofington said as he watched the repairpony set up her device. “But are you sure it’s safe?”
Torque Wrench wiped her brow and nodded to him with a confident smirk. “Sure as apricots are orange, sir,” she said. “I’ve done all the calculations. This here lawn mower—” She paused to pat the top of it. “—will get your yard trimmed in no time flat.”
“Just please be careful around our apricot tree,” Miss Hoofington said, pointing to it. “We just planted it.”
“Quite. Can’t have apricot pie with a chopped down tree, can we snookums?” Mr. Hoofington agreed.
As the two nuzzled, Torque Wrench cleared her throat uncomfortably. “Right. Well, let’s give ‘er a go,” she said, turning to her contraption.
It was small, around the size of a tortoise. It had four wooden wheels trimmed in thin strips of rubber for traction. Underneath it was a pair of curved blades hooked up to the motor. Torque Wrench grabbed the pull-chain that started the whole machine and gave it a great yank.
The motor grumbled noisily, revving up slightly before quieting down. Torque Wrench frowned and gave it another, harder yank, but the motor still refused to start. “Alright, ya little so-and-so,” she grumbled. “When I tell you to start…” She grabbed the pull-chain tight. “You start!”
Torque Wrench yanked the pull-chain so hard she wound up on the ground – mainly because the chain had snapped. The motor roared to life, and the mower took off across the yard.
“Yeah, there, ya see,” Torque Wrench said with a chuckle as she got to her hooves. “No time at all.”
However, unlike the diagrams and calculations in her workshop, the mower veered this way and that uncontrollably. It cut a path through a nearby flowerbed, decapitating and flattening rows of tulips.
“My tulips!” Mrs. Hoofington cried, fainting into her husband’s forelegs.
“Stop that infernal contraption!” Mr. Hoofington barked.
Torque Wrench nodded quickly and took off after it, but before she could get close to it, it crashed through the Hoofington’s gate that led into the yard next door. There was a series of crashes before the roaring mower was silenced.
“Hey!” barked Moody Root as he popped up on the fence. “What’s the big idea?”
“Sorry, Moody Root,” Torque Wrench called, hurrying to the fence. “The test run didn’t go quite as I planned it.”
“Test run!” cried Mr. Hoofington, looking nearly ready to faint himself. He was largely ignored.
“Dang thing nearly took out my lawn furniture,” Moody Root growled. “Lucky it hit a tree, I say.”
Torque Wrench hopped up onto the fence and sighed. She followed the trail of wheel tracks and trimmed grass in a weaving pattern across Moody Root’s backyard to where it ended against a tree. Indeed, her mower was in pieces.
“Why don’t you quit it already with the inventions, Torque Wrench?” Moody Root grumbled. “At this rate, somepony’s gonna get hurt, or worse.”
Torque opened the damaged gate and walked over to her mower. She sighed as she slouched onto the ground, holding yet another failed machine in her forelegs.
Come lunchtime, Torque Wrench didn’t even feel like eating her hayfries and milkshake at the town’s diner. She just sat there, slumped over the table, glancing at the tantalizing food but not finding the will to eat.
A series of giddy hooffalls trotted up to her, until the grinning Pegasus they belonged to sat across from her. “Hiya! So, how’d it go with the new neighbors?” Kerfuffle asked eagerly.
“The mower only took out some tulips and a garden gate, fortunately,” Torque Wrench mumbled. “Some first impression that was.”
“So it didn’t work? Darn. And you looked over the calculations, what, three whole times?” Kerfuffle asked. “That’s three times more than the last one.”
Torque barely nodded. “I don’t think I’m cut out for inventin’, Kerfuffle,” she said. “Some repairpony I am.”
“Hey now,” Kerfuffle said sternly, but in a way that could hardly be considered such. “Who was the one who helped fix up my sewing machine?”
“Me…”
“And, who helped fix the fence outside the hotel?”
“Me…”
“And, who’s going to do a great job on the Hoofington’s garden gate?”
Torque Wrench frowned. “Alright, that one didn’t help,” she replied.
“Sorry.” Kerfuffle smiled sheepishly. “Point is: you’re a great repairpony, Torque. This town’d be lost without ya. I know I would be – I can operate a sewing machine, not fix one.”
Torque Wrench sighed and sat up, finally picking up a hayfry and eating it apathetically. “Thanks,” she muttered.
“Anyway, I heard from Petunia over at the hotel that the mayor’s worried about this year’s Rainbow Festival,” Kerfuffle said. She glanced down at the plate of hayfries. “Mind if I have some?” She grinned sheepishly.
“Go ahead.” Torque Wrench gestured to them.
Kerfuffle scooped up a whole hoofful of them and munched on them noisily. Torque Wrench smirked at her, shaking her head before grabbing another one. The Pegasus swallowed before she continued.
“Mayor Sunny Skies wants a big attraction of some kind to help get everyone in the spirit this year, but I don’t think he knows what.”
Torque nodded, taking another hayfry. Then her eyes widened as she popped it into her mouth, chewing thoughtfully.
“I’ve got to get back to the shop, I’ve got an idea and it’s going to be fantastic,” she said, abruptly scooting out of the booth. She plopped some bits on the table. “Help yourself.”
Kerfuffle leaned out of the booth as she watched her run off. “Stay safe!” she called after her, before jamming another hoofful of fries into her mouth.
“Right this way, mayor,” Torque Wrench said proudly as she led Sunny Skies into her workshop. “She’s right here.”
She gestured grandly to a large object covered in an equally large tarp. It was easily bigger than a covered wagon, and oddly shaped.
“Oh my jumping June bugs, what is this, Torque Wrench?” Sunny Skies asked.
“I call her…” She reached up and tore off the tarp. “The Rainbowinator!”
The machine rested on a large cart with wheels nearly as big around as a pony was tall. The back two wheels had added cylinders attached to belts that fed into the machine’s motor. The machine itself was a series of brass and iron pipes and gears, centered around what resembled a larger version of the Rainbow Generator.
“Well, it’s certainly… big, Torque Wrench, but what does it do?” Sunny Skies asked, turning to her.
“This here is based off of my lawn mower’s design,” Torque Wrench said, patting a front wheel.
“Wasn’t that the lawn mower that crashed through the Hoofingtons’ gate?” Sunny Skies pointed out with a frown.
Torque Wrench grinned sheepishly. “Yes… but, I figured out the problem with it! This here? She moves much slower, on account of her weight. And just to ensure this motor doesn’t go too fast, I put a governor on the gears to keep ‘em slowed down,” she explained.
“That’s all well and good, but what does it do?”
“The Rainbowinator is essentially a giant confetti cannon. See that dome at the top?” She pointed to the lid of the machine, and Sunny Skies nodded. “That opens up, and two nozzles shoot out bursts of rainbow-colored confetti onto the crowd.”
“Very impressive, but… does it work?” Sunny Skies looked to her, worried by her sheepish expression.
“Well…” she sounded out, rubbing a foreleg. “She’ll need a test run first. Just to make sure everything’s runnin’.”
“I was afraid of that.” Sunny Skies sighed. “And you’re sure it’ll go slow?”
“Slower than a tortoise racin’ a rabbit,” Torque Wrench said, crossing her chest.
“Well… alright,” Sunny Skies said, tugging at his bowtie. “Let’s start her up.”
“Thank you, mayor. I won’t let ya down.” Torque Wrench beamed as she raced around to the back of the machine.
She grabbed ahold of a windup key on the back and started turning it quickly, gauging each turn. Finally, she hopped off as the machine began to whirl to life.
“That should be enough juice to make a lap around town square and back,” Torque Wrench called to the mayor. “I already tested the confetti cannons, so they aren’t loaded.”
And with that, Torque Wrench pulled a lever releasing the Rainbowinator’s parking brake. The machine lurched forward once before pulling out of the garage like a steam locomotive starting its run.
Sunny Skies and Torque Wrench followed it outside as it continued on at a slow pace. The terrific noise of its gears and pipes started to draw a crowd of onlookers, who oohed and aahed at the odd-looking machine.
“This is running great, Torque,” Sunny Skies said with a giddy grin. “Why, with a splash of color to it, this thing will make a great addition to the Rainbow Festival.”
“Thank ya, mayor,” Torque Wrench replied, before smiling up at her creation. It hissed and clanked and rattled as it went.
Then, suddenly, a chunk of metal flew off and the machine lurched again. It landed in the dirt a few feet away.
“What was that?” Sunny Skies asked.
Torque Wrench hurried over to it and her eyes widened in horror. “It’s the governor!” she shouted back to the mayor.
His eyes widened just in time for the clanking and rattling to speed up. “Everyone, get back!” he called.
Torque ran over to the machine, which was suddenly getting faster than her. The crowd of gathered ponies ran out of the way. “Knock out the back wheels!” she called to the mayor.
As she kicked at the leftmost wheel, Sunny Skies used his magic on the right wheel. Somehow, Torque Wrench’s wheel gave first and the machine lurched to the left. She jumped out of the way as the right wheel got yanked off.
There was a terrific sound of crashing metal, splintering wood, and shattering glass from behind her and she covered her head. Once the last rattles of metal had rolled to a stop, Torque Wrench uncovered her head, got to her hooves, and risked a peek.
The machine was in pieces. The wooden cart had splintered once the machine’s weight lost half its support. The front axle had snapped like a twig – one wheel lay on the ground, another through a shop window. The machine had come apart the second it slammed against the ground, scattering metal innards everywhere.
A group of townsponies, including the mayor, were gathered around the front end of the crash, and Torque Wrench hurried over, fearing the worst. As she approached, she covered her mouth with her front hooves.
“N-No…” she croaked out, eyes watering at the sight of a motionless body being pulled from under some of the debris.
A pincushion hairpin fell off the pony’s head.
Torque Wrench paced in the clinic’s waiting room, bags under her reddened eyes. The room was empty, as all the staff had been called to help with the emergency.
The emergency she had caused! She must’ve not checked the weld on the governor, or strengthened it enough, or tested how well it held back the horsepower, or—
She was cut off when Mayor Sunny Skies entered from the clinic’s double doors. He took off his top hat, his face grim.
“Mayor!” Torque Wrench cried, running to him. “Is she going to be ok?”
“She’s going to live, calm down,” Sunny Skies said with a slight smile, setting a hoof on her shoulder. It did little to comfort her.
“Oh Celestia above and Tartarus below,” Torque Wrench exhaled, smacking a hoof over her eyes. “How could I have been such an idiot?”
“It was an accident,” Sunny Skies said. “I know you only wanted to help, Torque Wrench. Kerfuffle’s going to be alright. Well… mostly alright.”
Torque Wrench peeked around her hoof. “’Mostly?’” she repeated in a quiet voice.
Sunny Skies nodded sadly. “The debris didn’t crush her, but… some did land on one of her back legs. It’ll take too long to get a specialist out here so… the doctors are amputating it,” he said.
“Wh-What? C-Can’t they fix it?” Torque Wrench stuttered. “Celestia knows all the healin’ magic we got in the library! A-And we have fine unicorns here! They could do all kinds of spells! And—“
“Torque.” Sunny Skies shook his head. “It’s the doctor’s call. Some things… just can’t be fixed.”
Torque Wrench’s head slumped and her gaze fell to the floor. Somepony else, probably a doctor or nurse, but she didn’t care to notice. She looked down at her own legs and scowled.
“Like Tartarus it can’t be fixed.”
Wiping at her eyes, Torque Wrench got up and stormed out of the clinic before anypony could ask where she was going.
Torque Wrench took a moment to pause at her workspace, lit up by lanterns in the growing twilight from outside. She looked over her tools laid out before her, including her blowtorch and welder.
Then her gaze lifted to all the schematics hung up around her workspace. Each outlined her every moment of creativity, each step carefully measured and calculated. Each one had represented her hope to help somepony out, as neighbors and friends should.
And each one had ended in disaster.
Her eyes fell on the last, grandest schematic for the Rainbowinator, and she gulped.
“No, not this time,” she said to herself. “You’re not messin’ up this one, Celestia help me.”
And with that, she slipped on her welding mask and grabbed her hammer. She checked a pony anatomy borrowed from the library, along with the measurements on the schematic, partially borrowed from Kerfuffle’s files in the boutique. Thank Celestia the Pegasus had enough mind to keep her customers’ measurements – even her own.
The sounds of a hammer shaping metal and the hewing of wood could be heard all night long.
In the early hours of the morning, Sunny Skies made his way to the clinic to check in on Kerfuffle’s progress. She was going to make it, according to the doctor he’d spoken with, but the thought of her spending the rest of her life in a wheelchair was hardly comforting.
“Mayor!” someone shouted, followed by the clopping of hooves and the squeaking of wheels complaining.
He whirled around to find a disheveled Torque Wrench, pulling a small metal wagon with her. Something thin and long was resting in the wagon under some cloth.
“Thank Celesta I caught ya,” she panted. “I’ve done it.”
“Done what, Torque?” Sunny Skies tilted his head.
“I made something to help Kerfuffle! Come on!”
And before he could say another word, she bolted straight into the clinic, wagon in tow. He raced in after her to find she had been stopped by the doctor working on Kerfuffle in the clinic’s waiting room.
“Miss Wrench, I know it was an accident,” the doctor says. “And I’m sure you feel badly for hurting your friend, but this is a medical issue. I’m afraid you can’t really help.”
“Fine then,” Torque said, grabbing the cloth covering the object in the wagon in her teeth. “Then you put it on her!” And with that, she yanked the cloth off.
The doctor’s eyes widened at the object, and Sunny Skies gasped.
“Go ahead, gawk, but if I’m not the one puttin’ it on her, then it’s all yours,” Torque said hotly, spitting out the cloth.
“Miss Wrench,” the doctor said, clearing his throat. “While this prosthetic does seem adequate, are you sure this is a good idea? Your past inventions… haven’t worked out so well.”
“Now you see here,” Torque Wrench snarled, getting up in his muzzle until they were practically snout to snout. “Yeah, my inventions haven’t exactly had a spotless record, but you know what I’m good at? Fixin’. So, that little thing there?” She pointed to the wagon. “I broke Kerfuffle’s leg, so this is me fixin’ it. And come Tartarus or high water, I’m fixin’ her.”
She was panting by the end of her speech. It took Sunny Skies gently guidance to pull her away from the doctor, whose eyes were wide and pupils small.
“That mare in there has always believed in me,” Torque continued in a softer tone, tears brimming at her eyes. “She’s the most creative pony I know, even me. I’m not lettin’ her down. Not when she needs me.”
Sunny Skies patted her on the shoulder and looked to the doctor. “How soon can ya operate on her?” he asked.
The doctor tugged his coat collar and cleared his throat to find his voice. “With a small dose of anesthesia, now,” he said. “But… mayor, are you sure…”
He trailed off as the mayor nodded his head firmly. “Torque Wrench might not be the best at making things, but she’s good at fixing them, that’s for sure. If she thinks this’ll fix Kerfuffle, then by Celestia, this’ll fix her.”
“Alright, we’ll prepare the operating table at once,” the doctor said, reluctantly taking the wagon with him back into the clinic.
Sunny Skies turned to Torque Wrench, whose face was stained with clean traces of tears. “You oughta head back home and get some sleep, Torque,” he said softly. “I’ll come get ya when she’s out of surgery, I promise.”
Torque shook her head, before looking up at him with reddened eyes. “No… I want to be there when she wakes up. I’ve got to know if…” She trailed off, her head going limp.
Sunny Skies nodded and wrapped a foreleg around her, patting her on the back.
Kerfuffle groaned awake against the early afternoon light. Her head throbbed with pain, and her limbs felt tingly. Well, most of them.
She sat up in the clinic’s bed and scanned the surroundings. The last thing she’d remembered was some great machine rumbling towards her, and then everything went black. Now everything around her was bleached white, from floor to ceiling.
A slight snore beside her made her jump.
Torque Wrench, with bags still under her eyes, was slumped against the bed’s railing. Her face was smudged and greasy.
“Torque Wrench?” Kerfuffle rasped.
The Earth pony shot awake, shaking her head for good measure. “Kerfuffle, you’re awake,” she said, smiling softly. “How ya feelin’?”
“Sore. And tired.” The Pegasus yawned. “What happened?”
Torque Wrench stared into the sheets covering Kerfuffle. “I made a machine for the Rainbow Festival. And it… malfunctioned. And fell on top of ya…” She swallowed. “Kerfuffle, I’m… I’m so sorry…”
Kerfuffle reached one hoof up to rest on Torque Wrench’s shoulder, smiling softly. “It’s alright, Torque Wrench… I’m still here, right?”
Torque Wrench nodded, then her muzzle fell some more. “Most of ya…”
Kerfuffle’s eyes widened as she lifted the sheets, and they fell upon her back left leg, or where it was supposed to be.
Halfway down, her leg had been replaced by a wooden lookalike with a golden trim. The top half resembled a goblet with a purple jewel on the front, which was connected to the bottom half by a golden ball joint. As she lifted the leg, the lower half slumped lifelessly.
“I spent all night on it,” Torque Wrench finally said, drawing Kerfuffle’s attention. “I hope… I hope it works for ya.”
Kerfuffle pulled Torque Wrench into a tight hug, and the dam finally broke. The Earth pony buried her muzzle into Kerfuffle’s chest as the tears leaked out.
“Thank you,” Kerfuffle murmured.
Torque Wrench glanced down at the leg before shutting her eyes tightly. “You’re welcome.”
“…I never did make a new invention after that, save for those hoof-fashioned parts for the Rainbow Generator. But, I figured I ended my inventing career on a high note, so I’d say it was worth it. Besides, I’m better at repairing what already exists than making something new. Anywho, sorry for the long letter. Hope it finds you well.
Signed, your friend, Torque Wrench.”
Torque sat up in her seat, looking at her work proudly as she spat out the quill. Then she grimaced when she realized it was several pages long. “I hope I got enough stamps for all of ya,” she muttered.
She jumped when there was a knock on the door, and she realized she’d left it open. Whirling around, she found Kerfuffle standing there, beaming eagerly.
“Hey Torque Wrench, if you aren’t busy, I was wondering if you’d want to swing by the diner for lunch,” the Pegasus asked. She swayed in the doorway, and Torque Wrench’s trained ear picked up a faint squeaking sound.
“Uh, sure thing.” Torque Wrench hopped off her chair. “How’s the leg? Need any more oil?”
“Nope, it’s been fine. Hasn’t been giving me any problems since the last fifty thousand mile checkup.” Kerfuffle giggled.
“Just let me know, I’ll fix it right up for ya,” Torque Wrench said.
“I know, that’s what you’re good at.” Kerfuffle beamed as she trotted off for the diner.
Torque Wrench glanced back at the letter on the workbench and sighed. Then she smiled as she trotted on after her friend.
Maybe being a repairpony was something to be proud of – if you tried hard enough to fix something.
Author's Note
Date of Creation (D.o.C.): 6/17/20
This marks the first story I've written using the ponies from Rainbow Roadtrip. I gotta admit, nailing their accents was the hardest part. I feel like I did a good enough job, though.
I feel like it's cliche at this point, connecting Torque Wrench with Kerfuffle's prosthetic leg. I mean, it makes sense: a pony with a replaced leg in the same town as a repairpony? The connection is easy to make. This time, however, I thought about what if Torque had caused Kerfuffle to lose her leg?
The song I listened to while writing this was "It's Raining Somewhere Else" from Undertale. It felt just right for a somber sort of story like this.
-yours truly,
The Legendary Bill Cipher, Equestria Enthusiast
