Entropy

ONCE UPON A TIME,

In the magical land of Equestria there lived a certain colorless gryphon. This gryphon lived in the mystical planes of the Badlands and bla bla bla, yadda yadda yadda.

Long story short, this gryphon wasn’t new to economic breakdown and decided to pack up his belongings and move to ponyville in search of work and money.

Things didn’t go as expected...

...at all...

* * * *

“Jason, no, don’t go out there! They’ll eat you alive!” The blue mare pleaded of the silver coated unicorn colt.

“It’s ok maggie,” the colt stroked her mane, “those zombies will never get me as the main protagonist; I have plot protection!” the silver unicorn levitated a twelve gauge shotgun in front of him and cocked it, sending a steaming shell into the air, “I’ll be back with the Horde Mother’s head.”

“Jason NO!”

The colt left.

“This is a gridmark story! There is no plot protection!” She yelled to the heavens.

A grey feathered gryphon pulled his beak out of a book, “Whoa, no wonder I hardly ever read fiction,” he said to himself.

The gryphon looked down to his passport, which had his proper name in bold font, ‘Fiftey Percent Grey’ plastered above a rather sloppy picture. A picture of a grey gryphon with bed feathers. In the small booklet was a small red train ticket with nothing on it but ‘Admit One, destination: Ponyville’. The gryphon looked out a window next to where he was seated, he’s already been long on his way to Ponyville from the Badlands. The terrain sped by too fast to see anything more than a blur of color and some mountains off in the distance. In about three hours time, the landscape had gone from the red soil of the Badlands, to the scenic town of Appleloosa, and now across the lush greens plains between Appleloosa and Ponyville.

The gryphon looked around the car he was in. No one else was there accept a red earth pony in the backseat known as Crazy Jack, who sat rolled up with a broken smile on his lips. But Crazy Jack was known to be in every train going to and from the Badlands.

I guess he has a reason to be crazy, 50 thought to himself, the economy down in the Badlands has gone to total shits, Nobody’s giving fair prices for their trades, and once you get stuck as a bum, you’re there for good. Hirings are slim, and nobody wants to take their chance with anyone who doesn’t own a proper house. The gryphon remembered the small house he had in the Badlands, hand built on the top of a plateau, it wasn’t much, but it was home. At least until he had to sell it to some rich unicorn for food and a train ticket. There’ll be a job in ponyville. I know it.

50 looked back out the window, a strange city seeming to have been built on the side of a mountain had just come into view.

* * *

“PONYVILLE.”

The gryphon woke with a start, not knowing where he was at first. He checked his leather bag to make sure everything was there. A magic-powered portable music player, a few tea bags, books, and a passport with a train ticket in it. Everything was there.

“Ponyville train station. Ticket please.”

50 looked over to the light blue earth pony colt staring back at him. His mind lagged behind a moment, “Oh! My ticket.” the gryphon reached into his bag and pulled out the red ticket and handed it to the colt, who promptly left for another train car. 50 sat there for a moment, thinking. Then looked back down the train car, no pony to be seen. He scratched his head, ruffling a few feathers, “Huh, Crazy, Jack...”

“AAAAALLL ABOARD!!!” A voice from outside yelled.

“Oh bu-” 50 immediately jumped out of his seat and strapped his leather carrying bag across his chest and rushed for the nearest exit, practically throwing the door aside and ducking his head to go through. Ponies are a bit shorter than gryphons.

Outside was bright, his eyes took a moment to adjust to the ponyville sun even through the shade of his tinted goggles. When his vision came to, he saw ponyville’s busy train station, most of which was a rainbow of ponies crowding onto the train he just left. A particularly heavy crowd headed straight into him and then around him before he could react. A couple of pegasi bumped into him, too busy chatting to each other to notice. The ponies were like machines, heading into the train and nothing else. 50 finally managed to squeeze himself out of the river of ponies, and of course, just as it had ended.

But out of 50’s peripheral, there was one figure left behind. A small one, 50 turned to his right to see the figure. A young, pink, filly earth pony with a curly mane looked up at him, “You’re not a pony,” she said with a confused tilt on her head.

“Uh,” 50 stammered.

“Pink Cherry! Get your flank in this train this instant!” An older voice called from the train.

“Yes mommy!” The filly yelled back as she ran to the train.

The door slid shut, and the train gave out two loud huffs of steam. It started to accelerate, and soon was gone. 50 turned around and walked through the plywood doorway that made up the majority of the train station. A whole town lay before him, bustling with happy ponies and shining with color. Ponies ran shops, moved clouds, ate sandwiches, gossiped with each other, it was everything 50 was expecting from an earth pony town. Then he let out an irritated sigh as he remembered, “Ponyville.”

* * *

Alright, Ponyville. Job opportunities. Maybe... Uhg, I just need to find somepony who knows where a job board is or something like that. 50 thought to himself as he left the train station.

Up ahead there was a pink mare with a magenta, cotton candy looking mane merrily jumping around with no apparent idea of where she was going. 50 squinted to get a better look at her cutie mark, Huh, maybe it is time for a new prescription, he thought to himself. 50 was practically blind by nature, only when he wore his goggles did he have the ability not to walk into walls.

50 approached the mare, who was now facing the other way talking to some mint colored mare with gold eyes. He gave one last glance at her cutie mark, just out of curiosity. Three balloons? What could that mean?

“Excuse me, um, pink one?” 50 asked.

The pink earth pony turned around, saying nothing, but genuinely smiling.

“Do you know where-”

“HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAEGH!!!!” the mare gave out an incredible gasp, somehow defying gravity and shooting off in some direction at a neck breaking speed. Bullet sound includedl.

50 stood there for a moment, confused. Do I offend? He sniffed his armpit.

Then he noticed the mare who the pink earth pony had been talking to. Mint coat, a mint mane with a white stripe, unicorn, and large golden eyes aimed directly at his... hands?

“Um, miss?” he asked.

“Yes?” she responded, still looking at 50’s talons with a slightly open mouthed expression.

50 thought for a moment, then moved slightly to the right and back. The mare’s eyes followed perfectly.

“Can I help you?” he asked again.

“No, I’m good.” she responded, automatically.

“Well, do you know where I can find any job openings around here?” He asked, still trying to solve this mare’s behavior.

“You want to know where the cob trimmings are?” she asked, finally looking up at the gryphon’s eyes, or his goggles.

“No. Where are the job openings?” he repeated.

“Oh!” she said, “check over by the town center,” she waved a hoof towards a large circular building somewhere off in the distance, “there should be like a board or something with help wanted signs or whatever.”

“Thanks.” 50 replied, and began walking to where the unicorn had directed. A moment later he glanced behind him to see she was still in the same place trying to get a good view of his talons.

* * *

The job board was a single piece of plywood tethered to the ground via attachment to two small trees. Good enough. 50 thought. he scanned the papers stapled to it, ‘lost bunny; Angel, reward’, ‘wanted: small purple dragon; arson’, a photograph of a banana, and a poster that read:

HELP WANTED

Tea shop clerk

10 bits a day

Looks like they knew I was coming. 50 thought as he began approaching the flier. Then a blue colt with a ridiculously long mane and a peace symbol for a cutie mark came by, plucking the last participation ballot off of the perforated advertisement.

50’s face would’ve scrunched up had his mouth not been a beak. Well, there’s another job opening on this side... Another help wanted sign was stapled on crookedly and had the word ‘desperately’ written above the ‘help wanted’ title in what appeared to be red crayon. A mail courier that paid 15 bits a day. This would cover 50’s bills and give him a little extra for bucking off. He tore off the ad and put it in his bag. Then llooked back into his bag;

“Oh, almost forgot,” he pulled out a black leather bound book, the title of which read ‘Dawn of the Zonies’. The book he had been reading on the train. “Meh” he said, tossing the book into the nearest trash can.

* * *

So how about some place to sleep? The gryphon thought, walking down a peculiarly colorful road adorned with even more colorful and curvy buildings. Meh, let’s see what that courier job is about.

The ponyville post office was a white building situated on the eastern outskirts of ponyville. There was one garage looking structure with a pony-pulled mail cart in it and a stack of boxes that have yet to be mailed. The post office was the first square shaped building 50 had seen since arriving in ponyville.

Going inside, he saw a large, burly, brown pegasus with a blonde mane and 5 o'clock shadow seated comfortably behind a desk. He was reading a magazine whose title appeared to read ‘Play Mare’. The pegasus immediately looked up to see the grey gryphon ducking his head to get into the building. His magazine had already disappeared under the counter.

“Uh, hey. Who are you?” The pegasus asked.

50 came up to the desk and pulled out the now slightly crumpled paper he had taken from the job board. “Heard you were hiring.” he said.

The pegasus looked confused, A gryphon? really? Uhg, this has to be better than what we have now. He thought to himself. “Ah yes! That help wanted flier somepony put up two months ago!” the pegasus came out from behind his counter and put a hoof around the gryphon’s shoulder, “ Come! I have just the job for you!”

“Well... don’t we have to do a job interview or don’t you have to sum everything up to me? Or something like that?” 50 asked.

“Job interviews!? Pffft no! All ya gotta do is strap yourself to a cart and lug around packages and letters to whatever address they have written on them!”

“Seems simple enough. I guess. But is that really all we have to do to get this job thing set up?” 50 was slightly concerned now.

“Of course! You do this for me from ten to six and I’ll pay you that ten bits everyday!” The pegasus nearly sang, a drop of sweat had accumulated on his forehead.

“The flier said fifteen bits.” 50 pointed at the flier as he held it up in one tallon.

This guy ain’t easy. “Fifteen bits a day! Ahem, did I write that? Anyway, what’s your name sir?”

“50, just 50 please.”

Some name. “Well alright 50! The job is yours! You can start working tomorrow morning when I have a name tag printed out for ya!”

“Well, thanks Mr.- uh...”

“Crafty Crate.”

“Crafty Crate.” 50 repeated.

* * *

Later that day, 50 found himself wandering down the same colorful road he was on earlier. Alright, got a job. Looks like everything is going better than expected...

The sun had begun to set over the horizon and ponies had retreated to their cozy homes. The young night sky glowed with orange clouds reflecting the light of the dying sun. Sunsets were truly beautiful when they weren’t eclipsed by mountains in every direction.

“OH SHIT! Night!” 50 exclaimed.

* * * *