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.
* * * *
Part two! Cheers mates.
Hope you all enjoy this better than the last one. (I know I did)
Also, feel free to post any errors you may come across so I can go in and murder them. My writing isn’t perfect nor will it ever be. Also, this is written in american english, which pretty much just has less u’s than european english. *le shrug* So pardon my American. ;D
* * * *
Morning.
The sleepy Ponyville had just begun to wake up to the dawn of Celestia’s great sun. The sun that cast shadows past the tallest mountains and gave the early clouds a warm glow before their brutal daily murder by pegasi.
In the middle of ponyville lay its park. Which consisted of vast fields divided by shrewd dirt paths and unnaturally round trees scattered about its edges.
In one of these trees lay a strange sight; a gryphon whose only color was in a single orange highlight in his right wing and the brown of the leather in his goggles satchel. From this tree emanated a strange gurgling noise, those who dared take a closer look would find that the noise was a kind of snoring.
50 lay sleeping balanced on the branch of an old apple tree. Ignoring that he was currently homeless, he was rather fortunate to find a tree sturdy enough to hold his weight. Hell, it even had a pillow in it. Whose pillow was it? The gryphon hadn’t the slightest clue, but it must’ve been used recently if it was so fluffy.
The gryphon felt the light of dawn poke through his eyelids, bringing him halfway into consciousness. Just enough for him to decide to stretch his limbs and to try to roll over into a more comfortable position.
The result brought him the rest of the way into consciousness.
Then the branch followed.
Stiffly, 50 brought himself to his feet and brushed the dirt out of his feathers. Standing on his hind legs and arching his spine backwards, he thought somepony behind him had played a sheet of bubble wrap. His back felt immediately relieved.
50 turned around to see the severed branch he had been sleeping on no more than ten seconds ago. Maybe I should order the salad next time... he thought as he stroked the back of his neck.
He looked down to the unusual white feather-stuffed pillow that was now buried in a mess of splintered wood and leaves. Pushing the branch aside, he picked up the pillow and brushed a cloud of dust off, fluffed it a little, and placed it neatly at the base of the tree he had slept in.
“Heh, like it never happened. Almost.” He spoke to himself, then putting a thoughtful tallon to the underside of his beak, “I should really stop talking to myself.”
* * *
The Ponyville tea and coffee shop.
A blue colt with a mane longer than even fluttershy’s approached the glass front door from within the small shop. The time was now seven o'clock in the morning, so, using his mouth, he turned the sign reading ‘closed’ over so that it read ‘open’ and unlocked the doors.
Almost as soon as the door lock clicked to indicate that the shop was open and the colt had turned his back, a loud muffled thunking noise came from the outside.
“You guys are open?” asked the muffled voice of a strange desaturated gryphon, whose face was firmly pressed against the surface of the glass door. The door began to slide open until it allowed the visitor to stumble his own way in.
“Yeah man! It’s seven o’ clock! Have a look around!” The colt welcomed merrily.
The small coffee shop didn’t have a single drop of paint to cover up it’s wooden interior. There were shelves stocked with various herbs and spices, most of which for brewing tea. On the other side of the room there was a selection of various flavors and imports of coffee beans along with a small library and a sofa to sit on. And of course, a cash register which sat on a shelf that the blue colt now stood behind.
50 came up to the register for a closer view of the menu. After some good squinting at a few of the options listed, the gryphon seemed to have come to a solution. But then a hint of dread struck his face and he immediately dug into the leather bag by his side.
Not a single bit in sight.
“Ehem, heh heh... Do you give free water cups?” he asked.
“Uh, yeah, sure man!” the colt replied as he went farther into the shop to fulfil the order.
Something else caught 50’s eyes; just behind the counter sat a fresh steaming bowl of noodles.
“Hey, those noodles back there, are those free samples?”
The colt placed a filled water cup on the counter, looking confused for a moment, “Wha- oh yeah! Those be free samples alright!”
50 heard his stomach walls contracting, “I’ll take ten scoops!”
“Wha- ten!? Your seriou-” the pony stopped, “You can only have one free sample at a time.”
“So, I can a take a scoop now, eat it, and come back at that later time for another?” 50 asked.
“What? No, I mean... Fine, take two scoops.” the colt scooped out two half-hoof fulls of noodles and put them on a plate next to a pair of chopsticks, “Anything you’d like to pay for?” he asked, slightly annoyed.
50 put a claw to his chin, “Mmm, nah. That’ll do.” he replied.
“Alright, you’re total come out to zero bits...” he fumbled with the cash register for no apparent reason, “Have a nice day.”
“Thanks! You enjoying this new job?” 50 asked, the slightest hint of revenge painting the edges of his solid lips.
“How did you know-”
The gryphon left.
* * *
Back at the park where 50 had spent the night, 50 lounged on a bench fiddling with some chopsticks while he waited his water to brew into tea. I’m one of the few creatures in Equestria with fingers and I can’t even use chopsticks. Meh. He scooped up his small meal in his bare claws and ate it in a single gulp. The gryphon looked to the small cup of water with one of his own tea bags hanging out the side. Man, I hate cold brew, but I need my caffeine fix. He thought silently.
Not much happened the rest of the morning, 50 got enough food to hold him for about ten minutes, and his tea fix. It was then that he seriously started to wonder whether or not he should try and pawn the most valuable item in his possession; his music player. Portable music players never really took off, not because of how expensive they were but because of how difficult they were to make. Piecing together a device capable of capturing and storing sound waves in the form of magic glass tubes and gears was not an easy task. There was a special event back in the Badlands that held one for a prize. Whoever could create the most wattage from a storm cloud won. But it wasn’t 50 who won that contest, but an old pegasus friend he had back there, and that’s why the gryphon had held onto it for all this time.
Hmm, nah. I’ll hang onto it at least until I see how this courier job works out.
* * *
10:00 am, the Ponyville Post Office.
“Glad you could make it aboard!” enthused Crafty Crate.
“Well glad I could too...” 50 responded, tiredly remembering last night. “So where do I get started?” the sooner I do this, the sooner I get paid and the sooner I get to sleep in a bed.
“Right down to business then aye? I like that. I’d like you to meet your new co-worker, Derpy Hooves!”
EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEeeeeeeeeee!!!! some far off voice yelled. 50 had just begun to realize that the voice seemed to be coming from above the building when-
BOOOM! The post office’s ceiling came crashing inward, spewing dust and debris so thick that breathing became difficult. Crafty Crate and 50 both coughed the dust out of their lungs and by the time everything cleared out, 50 could make out a small, grey pegasus with a bright yellow mane sprawled out in the middle of the rubble.
His eye twitched beneath his goggles.
“Hiya boss! I’m ready for another suuuuper day of mail deliveries!” Derpy said as she jumped out of the crater.
“You do this once everyday, and those bits are yours.” Crafty Crate whispered into the gryphon’s ear, who had just noticed the extensive ceiling damage from apparently earlier events. There was a lot of plywood nailed to the ceiling. “Derpy, I want you to meet your new assistant, Fifty Percent Grey.” He directed the pegasus’s vision to the grey gryphon.
“Uh, just... call... me... 50...?” he was still a bit surprised by what just happened.
“Oh boy oh boy oh boy! A new friend to deliver mail with!”
“Eh?” said the gryphon.
“Now all ya gotta do, is strap yourself to that cart over there and deliver all it’s contents safely to where ever they’re addressed to. Got that?” Crafty Crate said, pointing a hoof towards an oddly placed delivery cart just outside the door. It was really just a wooden box with two slots in front for pegasi to be attached.
“Eh?” said the gryphon.
Skipping along outside, Derpy strapped herself into one of the pulling slots of the cart. Doing so as if she was a professional at it. 50 followed, looking at the other slot and Derpy looking back at him, or at least he thought she was looking at him.
“I’m not so sure if I can fit into this.”
“Why not? Did you have too many muffins?”
“Wha- No. I’m a gryphon, these are made for ponies.” he looked towards the rear of the delivery cart, wondering how the vehicle managed to stay horizontal if the only thing acting on it was a couple of pegasi three metres in front of it. Then he noticed a handle bar placed just above the back door.
“I think I can help by lifting that handle back there and telling you what the addresses are.” 50 told Derpy.
“Whatever floats your egg shell.” she responded.
* * *
Everything was going surprisingly well, at least until one delivery...
“And this last package goes to... 50 squinted at the label of the cardboard box he held against his chest. “Sugar Cube Corner!” he yelled out to derpy.
At that very moment in time, a phenomena occurred. The pegasus’s eyes dilated and her mouth contracted to a single point. It seemed as if at the center of her mind was a great mass of various gears and pulleys that had only now decided to function, saying, “Muffin night.” and Derpy’s secret warp drive activated.
* * *
Meanwhile at the Ponyville park...
At the ruins of a once great nap time tree, there was a sky blue pegasus with rainbow colored mane, silently mourning over her loss.
“Well heya Rainbow! Watch’ya doin?” a voice asked the pegasus from behind.
“Huh? Oh. Hey AJ. Nothing.” Rainbow Dash sniffed a little.
“Isn’t this where ya normally hang out when everypony’s doin sometin’ else?”
“Well... yeah but... Some jerk broke my sleeping tree, and they used my pillow too.” she pouted.
“BUCK-MEEEEEEEEEE!!!” some unfamiliar masculine voice cried out from overhead.
“Now what in tarnation was that!?” Applejack barely got a glance at the source of the noise. Some grey blur that had already disappeared behind the horizon of trees that encompassed the park. Then she noticed something odd; what appeared to be a cardboard package plummeting from the sky...
THUD.
“Hey AJ! Did you just see that package fall from the sky!? Let’s go see what it is!” said Rainbow Dash, already galloping ahead to the crash site as if she had completely forgotten about her tree. Applejack followed.
When they got there, they found some battered cardboard package with a label on it that read: To: Pinkie Pie, Sugar Cube Corner, Ponyville, From: You know who.
“Hey! It’s for Pinkie Pie!” Rainbow Dash, stating the obvious, “Should we open it?”
“Well whatever it is,” Applejack picked up the package in her hooves and shook its contents, “it’s broken.”
“Common AJ,” Rainbow Dash took the package, “Pinkie won’t know.”
Rainbow Dash opened the crumpled cardboard, both of them looking in at the same time.
Applejack immediately slammed the box shut and placed it on her back as if she was taking it somewhere.
“Cooking ‘supplies’?” Rainbow asked, as if she and Applejack had some sort of code for this sort of situation.
“Cooking supplies.” Applejack responded, a tired look on her face as if she had just been burdened with some wicked task.
* * * *
