It Came From the Swamp

by David Silver

Rating: teen
Tags: Slice of Life, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Other
Length: 4013

A tale of a pony that's seen a lot. His smile hides old hurts, and his laughter is a trade for other things, but he's put that all behind him, trotted off to the big city of Manehatten, where things don't work like that, right? A new life awaits.

A tale of a pony that's seen a lot. His smile hides old hurts, and his laughter is a trade for other things, but he's put that all behind him, trotted off to the big city of Manehatten, where things don't work like that, right? A new life awaits.

This story may have biographical bits from the patron, who I will not be revealing, so there! The protag is a pony through and through, and Equestria has equestrian answers for him, for better or worse.

Walk with me.

Published 2020-09-05 02:30:02 UTC
Last updated 2020-09-22 19:56:01 UTC

1 - The Big City

His hooves struck the firm sidewalk with the classic clip-clop. Around him, ponies, more ponies than he usually ever had to deal with in a given day. He wasn't home anymore.

Good. The city held many promises. Independence, freedom from expectations. He was his own pony, and he could grasp life between his own two hooves. It also had a basic requirement. A pony did not live in the city off good intentions alone. He needed a place to live, and more bits than the pittance he had with him.

There were many jobs to choose from, his eyes scanning about for help wanted signs. But there were a few that were always available, and tended to be more interested in the kind of pony that they got, rather than the qualifications of the pony.

His stomach rumbled quietly, voicing its opinion on the matter. He glanced to the left, seeing he was passing a diner of some sort. There, in the window, was a Help Wanted sign propped up against the glass from the inside. "Two birds," he chuckled to himself as he ascended the few cement steps to the glass door. He grabbed the handle in his teeth and drew it open. "Hey there."

A dull green pony with her purple hair done up in an impressive bun turned towards the sound of an incoming customer. "Well hey yahself," she greeted with a smile, her red glasses leaning a bit off balance. "Go right ahead and perk yourself wherever." She waved wildly at a selection of open booths.

"Actually, ya see." He stepped inside enough for the door to close behind him. "About the sign ya got there."

"Oh, that?" She glanced at it. "Don't you worry a thing 'bout that. We got plenty enough help to get ya a bite, sugar."

He looked her over, deciding quickly she was a nice, if busy, mare that was trying to tend to her job. "Ah was more thinkin' ta join ya, though a bite sounds good too."

"Well, park your ass." She pointed to a booth. "Be right with ya in a sec, got customers to wrangle." She turned to a pony waving a hoof. "I can see ya! A'ight?" She grabbed a carafe of coffee in her teeth on the way, bringing it over to the waiting customer.

He settled into the booth and reached for the menu, sliding it along the table instead of picking it up and wandering his eyes over it when not sneaking peeks at his maybe-future-coworker... or boss? She had a hair net on her tail, sensible. It was morning, midmorning. There were about six ponies in there besides himself as customers. Not a huge rush, there were still booths available, but there was only one waitress and she was busily bouncing from one to the next, when not blowing huge bubbles out of her gum.

"So, what'll ya have?" It had become his turn all too suddenly. "And do ya have the bits, sugar? We ain't runnin' on nice thoughts."

"Ah can pay fer it," he assured, tapping the menu. "One hayburger."

"Fries?" She raised a brow. "Ain't many ask fer a burger, no fries."

"Uh... sure, yeah, gimmie that." And off she went.

"One patty and crispies!" she called as she went, only to return with a plate in her mouth, on the plate was a glass and a carafe. She set the glass down and soon had it full of water. "Now, why don't you go an' regale me with your qualifiers. You work in food service before?"

"Know how to pay attention. Know how to follow instructions." He tapped his hooves with each qualifier. "Know how to keep an eye on trouble, an' ah don't scare easy."

She leaned in a little, looking him over from the top to the bottom. "All good an' everythin' but ain't specific ta food none."

"Work is work," he argued. "Know how to cook." Sure, he'd usually cooked for himself or a friend or two, not in any restaurant setting.

She raised a hoof to his lips, silencing him. "Now look here. The way I see it, you're a lucky pony." Though he didn't speak, the question was clear in the air. She smirked a little. "We really need the help. You say you can listen?" She lowered her hoof. "Listen to what I'm tellin' ya?"

"Already listenin'," he assured with a soft chuckle, a smile of his own revealed. "What'ya need first?"

"Fer you to eat what ya done ordered, pay fer it, then we talk." She turned and trotted away towards the next customer, leaving him there to consider what trouble he had gotten himself into.

In not too long, a plate slid in front of him, a steaming-hot burger and sizzling fries awaiting his enjoyment. He chomped on them gratefully and reached into a pocket, a coin coming out attached to it that he slapped on the table, which vanished the next time she wandered past, replaced with a few smaller coins, change. He pushed away his emptied plate, sliding some of the coins his way but leaving something of a tip.

Then there wasn't much more to do but wait, so he did that, watching ponies go trotting past and sipping his water. At least he had a job, he figured. Not a bad start to things!

"To be truthful." There she was, appearing with no sound of her approach, as if her hooves were wrapped in soft foam instead of capped with hard hooves. "I figured the odds were an even split-like. You had nothin' and I woulda chased ya out, that is." She inclined an ear at him. "Wouldn't be too mad. As bums go, yer polite at least, sugar. Still, glad it didn't shake out that way none."

He thrust a hoof towards her. "Well, ain't like takin' what ain't mine. Name's Thanks. Thanks Stallion."

She snorted at that. "Well, ya fit yer name jus' fine. Now, get up. Unless ya got somethin' better to do, which I'm gonna guess ya don't, we can start a shift." She led him behind the counter and began dressing him, getting a shirt over his front and fetching a name tag, jotting his name and attaching it to him. "Regulations." A new hairnet came out. "Get it on, just like mine."

Soon he had it wrapped around his tail, keeping the hair tightly bound in a ball. "Alright, ready."

"Not yet yer not," she accused with a smirk. "But maybe you will be after I'm done with ya." And the instruction began. At first he had to shadow her, watching how she handled things, learning what was allowed and what wasn't, and the general flow of things. By the second hour, she had set him loose to start taking orders and serving up. "Don't ferget to smile, even when you don't feel like. People ain't comin' here to see ya scowl at 'em."

"Right right." He grabbed a platter with two plates of tasty food he wasn't allowed to eat. He made a silent resolution to get something before he left for the day. "Comin'." He hurried to the waiting customers and got right to things. By the end of the shift, he was helping clean and greeting customers coming through the door. True to his word, he had listened, and he didn't slack, so when she hung up her own apron, she was smiling as she turned to him.

"Well, my shift's up." She shook off her hairnet and caught it before it hit the ground. "The next crew's already here." She pointed to the next waiter that was already working. "If you want to finish your eight hours with him, be my guest. You seem alright. Hey, Order!" The newly arrived waiter looked over. "When Thanks here signs out, see he gets paid for today, special exception."

Order Up saluted before resuming his diligent work. She chuckled softly. "He's a good boy and I'm not dragging it." She raised a brow at him. "If y'ain't scared away, come back tomorrow evening, start at six and work from there. You alright with that shift?"

"Any shift's a shift," he agreed, just to be thumped in the chest.

"Good answer." She turned and trotted off for the exit. "See you tomorrow."

Thanks got back to things, but the mood of the place started to shift. The dinner crowd came and left, a hectic time where there was no moment to breathe, just rushing from booth to booth to keep things from overflowing.

"Thanks," gusted out Order, leaning against a counter. The dinner rush had ended. "I would have had to take care of that myself." He smiled a little, fatigue clear under his eyes. "I've done it before, not fun." He grabbed a rag in his magic, wiping down the counter he was next to. "Welcome to the team. When'd you start?"

Thanks turned his eyes to the clock against the wall. "Uh, hmmm, 'bout noon?"

"You worked through the lunch and dinner crowd, on your first day?" He cocked a brow. "It is your first day, right? Ain't seen yer mug around here before."

"First day," Thanks agreed.

"Well, grats, also, you're going into overtime, so go home." He pointed past Thanks to the door. "Still, thanks, oh!" He went to the register and pulled a lever, causing it to swing open. "Payday. It's normally every other week, but she said you get one early." Soon he had counted out bits and made a note of what the bits were going for, closing it back up. "Here ya go."

"Well, shoot, right kind of her." He trotted up and carefully scooped up his earnings. "That'll help smooth things over. Speakin' of that." He started undressing, preparing to be off-duty. "Lookin' fer a place, got any tips?"

"Sure." He trotted to the door and grabbed a folded map, bringing it over. "Right here." He pointed. "Plenty of apartments that way, usually got spots. Just walk safe, ain't smart to be walkin' late at night some places 'round there. Now, not gon' hold you, better get back to work." Order went to see to the few customers left, his shift not complete.

That left Thanks to exit the building into the brisk air of the evening. He took a left and started meandering as the map had suggested, weaving through the streets.

"Wrong turn?" asked a pony perched on a stool, watching him. "Sucks fer you."

Another pony stepped out behind Thanks. "Right bad luck. No reason to make me pop off. Just drop your bits and get on wit' it."

"Don't like fightin' none." Thanks turned and backed, putting both ponies in his field of view. "But ah can, and ah will."

"Ooo, scary," taunted the pony on the stoop as he stood up. "Little country pony's ready for a scrap."

"Just put the coins down," suggested the one from behind. "Way easier."

But easy was not always the way Thanks preferred it. He waited for them to close, only striking after they had. He ducked and bobbed, taking their hits, but never directly, and refusing to show much in the way of pain. He lashed out a hoof at the stoop-pony who had thought to sneak up behind and the loud crack was just the prelude to the wail of the pony.

"Shit, you alright?" asked his friend, abandoning the fight a moment. "Rotten piece of garbage, what'd you do?"

"Defended myself," calmly argued Thanks, turning to resume his walk. They didn't press the fight, already having proven he was not worth the trouble.

Of the apartments that came into view, one of them stood out. Its lights were on, its 'Available' sign was in clear view, and the door to the office was open, with a pony watching TV inside, waiting to be bothered. He accelerated his steps towards that pony and the potential shelter they represented.

Author's Note

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2 - Rest Your Head

"Yeah?" The mare in the office looked up at the stallion that had poked his head in. "Can ah help?"

Thank pointed to the sign that glowed in the window. "Still got space?"

"Sure." She rose up and left her chair behind, instead approaching him. "First night, you pay upfront. Nothin' personal, just been burned in the past."

"S'alright," assured Thanks, coiling on himself to fetch his bag of coins. "How much?" She quotes an amount that seemed reasonable and he paid.

"Hey." She squinted at the coins balanced on her hoof. "Now ah ain't the fastest count in the city, but this here's way too much."

"Two weeks," argued Thanks, knowing how long until he was paid again. Whatever other faults he had, using his money properly wasn't one of them. "Payin' ahead of time's alright, yeah?"

"Sure sure." She stuffed it away and replaced it with a key. "This's yours." She slapped it down onto his hoof. "You're on the third floor." She pointed up. "Includes utilities so long as nopony goes nuts with it."

"Ain't a problem." He stepped back into the crisp bite of the evening.

"Hey," came her call. "Didn't catch yer name."

"Didn't toss it," he admitted. "Thanks."

"Yer welcome?" She hiked a brow, peering at him.

"Nah. Thanks Stallion, tha's the name."

She didn't press for much else, allowing him to enter the building the proper way. The entry hallway had an elevator, what decadence! Down the hallway, he could see stairs. Considering the options, he wandered to the elevator, ready to retire for the day.

The button was lit, indicating the ride was on the way. "Always feels like forever, don't it?" A mare was there, rocking left and right on her hooves slowly. "Saw you comin' out of the office, move in?"

"Yeah," he replied simply.

"Name's Candy." She offered a hoof. "We're neighbors."

"Well, nice to meet." He met the hoof. "Thanks Stallion."

"That's a funny name." She lowered her hoof to the ground. "Fer a moment, thought you mistook me. I don't look like a guy, do I?" She laughed, clearly finding the situation amusing.

"Nah," he assured in a not-entirely assuring way, chuckling from deep in his chest. "Candy's a sweet name."

"Touche," she sang, dancing on her hooves. "Finally!"

Her cry came as the door slid open, allowing two people carrying a television between them to escape into the hallway, balancing the CRT between their bodies as they clip-clopped down the hall. Candy darted in and thrust out a hoof to keep it from closing. "Goin' up!" she called, looking to Thanks.

Thanks watched the TV recede, following Candy. "Never saw that before, what was it?"

"You kiddin'?" She punched a number on the panel. "Well, guess you're not going home yet."

"Huh?"

"I gotta show you what a TV's like!" She lowered her hoof once he was inside, letting the door shut. The room lurched into motion, carrying them upwards. "Greatest invention in ferever, lets you waste time better than ever before."

The door chimed, sliding open fitfully to reveal the second floor. She stepped off partway, blocking the door with her body. "Come on." He looked unsure a moment, but emerged. She laughed as she proceeded, letting the door close behind them. "I'm the one that should be nervous, some random stallion comin' into my apartment." Not that she seemed bothered at all.

She fished out a key as she went down the hallway. "What room do you have?"

He paused a moment to get a look at his key. "312?"

"No way." She turned in place, showing hers dangling from her teeth, declaring that she was in 212. "You're right over me." She got the key into the knob and began jiggling it. A muffled set of sounds came from inside, hard to make out. "Be quiet in there, ya little monsters," she called as she turned her head, unlocking the door and opening it in one motion.

Inside her densely decorated apartment, three foals peered out from behind cover, their eyes not on her, but beyond her to the stranger. "Now don't be like that," she chastised. "This here's a new friend. His name's Thanks. Ya gonna be afraid of somepony called Thanks?"

Two colts burst from cover, darting over to Thanks as he closed the door behind himself. "Hey mista!" cried the first, echoed by the second. They circled him curiously, ears pricked and motions fast, fear replaced with curiosity, naked and unvarnished.

"Hey yerself," Thanks greeted in kind, smiling at the little ponies. "Uh, are these yours?"

"Made 'em myself," she agreed, moving to step up onto a couch and lay across it. "Now get in here and learn what TV's all about."

The third foal, a filly, moved to sit beside the couch, next to her mother, less immediately excited to greet the newcomer. The television came alive as Candy pressed a hoof on the big singular button of the wired remote control. "What time is it?" she mused, looking over to where a clock hung on the wall. "Alright, so..." She kept pressing the button and twisting her hoof as she did it, changing the channel.

Soon everyone, foal and adult alike, were seated around the room, watching as a comedy show played with wild displays of slapstick and wordplay to amuse played for their entertainment.

"Where ya from?" asked one of the colts that was perched near Thanks.

"Yeah," agreed the second colt. "Where?"

"Out." He gestured vaguely away. "In the woods, past the swamp."

"OOooo," they both agreed.

"Yer a swamp monster," laughed the second one, giggling.

"Well, if ah'm one of those, then what if ah'm hungry?" asked Thanks with a wry smirk.

The colts squealed and fled each in a different and seemingly random direction. He was after them, their antics creating more laughter, among them, then the show had succeeded at.

"Down in front," roared Candy as the chase wandered between her and the television. "Ah swear."

The colt stuck his tongue out at her. "We're jus' havin' fun."

Thanks slowed to a stop with his quarry no longer fleeing. "Uh, sorry. Didn't mean nothin'."

"Not you." Candy waved it away. "They're the ones that know the rules. When mommy's watching the telly, no getting in the way." She smiled a little, eyes darting between both colts and Thanks. "They seem to like ya."

"Oh--" He chuckled softly. "Ah get along with kids well enough." He patted the closest colt on the head, getting a tongue poked out at him in kind. "The swamp monster'll get you some other time, maybe when yer mom's not busy."

"Speakin' ah that." His eyes went to the same clock hers had found not long before. "Nah, not needed yet."

"Yet?" asked Candy, brow raising. "What are ya waitin' on?" She pulled up, sitting upright on the couch and patting a spot beside her.

"Got a job." He stepped up and circled, sitting on his haunches next to her. The children came in closer, colts and the filly arranged about the couch, facing the TV. "Tomorrow I start at six."

"AM? Shoot, that's way early." She leaned over the side of the couch and reached down with her face, grabbing a bag of chips into view and starting to munch. "Gotta go?"

"PM," he corrected. "So not yet. 8 hours from there."

Quick math happened in her head. "You're gonna be there all night!" She reached a hoof, patting him on the shoulder. "Poor thing."

"A job's a job," he retorted. "Pays. What's yers?"

"Don't got one," she admitted with a shrug. "Ain't fer me anyway."

He glanced at the various things in her apartment, and the fact that she had one, and three little foals to feed, but somehow was doing alright? "Huh... If it works." He lifted his shoulders and slid to the floor. "Ah'm just gettin' in the way."

"You come on back," she took up the freed space, spreading over the couch. "See you tomorrow?"

The colts joined in her call, demanding he return to play. Thanks smiled as he headed for the door. "Be good fer yer mom," he bade the little fluffballs, nosing open the door and stepping out. "G'night, Thanks fer showin' me that thing." Television weren't so bad.

He decided not to bother with the elevator again. As the door clicked behind him, locking, he walked to the stairs and climbed up the flight to the third floor. Key in mouth, he approached his door, just above hers.

He opened it and blinked, key falling out of his mouth. The apartment was big! Much bigger than he expected. "Ah... what?" He wandered in, looking around. There were three bedrooms in there, a living room, all the fixings, minus furniture, for a whole herd of ponies to move in. But he surely hadn't paid that much for it. The building didn't look rundown enough to warrant the difference in price.

There was a note on the counter in the kitchen and he went to get a peek at it.

Hello, Stallion

If you're reading this, you got my other messages. This is the place. All I need for you to do is live here. I'll cover the difference between this place and a one bedroom, alright? It's in my name, it has to be. Don't worry about it and enjoy the extra space.

Yours,
Mark Russell

Thanks groaned softly. "Roped into it again." It wasn't the first time he'd managed to wander into one of his brother's schemes, often political in nature. "What does he need a place fer?" He shoved the note into the garbage, nothing further to be gained from it. "Whatever, 'least ah got a place for it..."

He wandered into one of the bedrooms and got out his few belongings, one of them being a roll out cot that he unfurled with a sharp snap, providing a place to lay across. "How much of this did you plan?" he grumbled, thinking back to the letters he had exchanged with his brother. He was the one that said what part of the city to come into. Hay, he'd mentioned that diner...

Did he set up that job? Thanks frowned softly. "Well, Ah'll be the one keeping it." Whether or not Mark got it for him, it'd be his own hooves that made his position there secure.

Mark was a small time politician with big dreams. It wasn't the first time, by far, Thanks had helped him get things done. It used to be out of innocence, then, well, a pony needed bits to get by.

A soft thump sounded from below, where Candy's apartment was. He smiled a little, imagining some foal, likely, a colt, bumping into something. Her shout dimly drifted upwards afterwards, likely shouting at her kid. They were a happy little family.

He pulled up his belongings to use as an impromptu pillow. It wasn't much of one, but better than nothing. The room was warm, which beat out camping outside, which he had done more than a few times. He closed his eyes and let go of things, ready to tackle the next day.

Other sounds drifted in from around the building, most less wholesome than the noises of overenergetic little foals. He could hear people coming home, or leaving. The elevator's door chimed occasionally when the elevator arrived on the third floor. The building was alive with activity, marking his new home. But it was time to filter that out.

It was time to become what he was meant to be, a night clerk.