Brawny Oak and Steely Gaze would admit they weren't the smartest ponies, complex arithmetic and socio-political theory weren't exactly their specialities. What they did have though was strong backs and a sunny disposition about them. They were affable, friendly, and above all else unthreatening. Which was a definite advantage when you were 'Sun Shoulders', the largest breed of Earth Pony in Equestria.
As general labourers within Canterlot Palace they were in constant demand, things always needed moving, lifting and generally redistributing. It was hard work, but it paid well, and the palace had a top-notch canteen that was rumoured to serve Celestia's favourite Hayburger. The last few weeks had been particularly tough going, five hundred years of goods were starting to be removed from storage. With the recent return of Princess Luna, antiquities and heirlooms from the 'Time of Two' were all the rage again in the Palace. Sad memories now glorious mementos.
A dark grey foreleg jabbed at the cyclopean tube resting in the delivery hall. It was a beast of a rug, Saddle Arabian by design and roughly the length of five ponies. A faded design showcased flowers and intimate thoughts on the nature of life, not that they could read it of course.
"S'pretty" said the brown pony, circling it slowly while taking in its skilful construction. He paused mid-step, leaning into the huge pile of fabric and giving it a cursory sniff, "Hey Brawny...should these things stink?"
"What?"
"C'mere," he gestured to Brawny, slapping the rug for emphasis, "Give it a sniff."
The Duo stood there for a solid minute, cursory sniffs turning into deep snorts. If anypony walked in they'd think the two were secretly Diamond Dogs in disguise. Stepping back and rubbing at his (now burning) nose, he shrugged, "So its reeks a bit, lotta this stuff smells though, right?" They both cast their minds back to the Yakyakistan 'diplomatic wall hanging' they'd installed the other week. It was five metres of badly tanned hide, smelt like death and the unanswered question of 'what animal is it made from' sent a shiver up their spine. A simple rug surely wasn't a problem in comparison?
"Come on then mate, let's get this going," growled Brawny, his legs already starting to strain from hefting one end of the rug solo. With a nod of his head, Steely joined him. It took a few minutes for the ponies to get into the ideal carrying position, but soon enough they were on their way, the occasional yell of ''scuse me mate!' clearing the labyrinthian corridors of the palace.
After ten minutes, several bumps, and numerous stairs, a most pertinent question was raised.
"Hey Steely, we going the right way?"
"Why you asking me?"
"Cause you got the note mate."
"I got nothing mate, nothing at all."
Brawny paused, his co-worker stumbling behind him with a loud "oof". Aware of the mumbled curses, he rummaged briefly in the modified saddlebag hanging from his neck. Nothing. Nada. Zip. Zilch. A cold sweat ran across his spine, now they'd have to drag the damn thing all the way back, get the note from the delivery hall staff, then drag it all the way around the building again!
A whisper of a crackle suddenly emanated beneath him, it was... the delivery note? Inspecting it confused the pony even more. It looked a bit rough around the edges, whilst the horn writing was atrocious. He'd seen better from his brothers kid ! Shrugging off its miraculous appearance as poor note storage on his part, the two duly began their journey once again, this time "Tooo sun-butts frone room" as the note insisted.
"Did you see that ludicrous display last night ?" Brawny grunted, his end of the load violently shaking as they climbed up the fifth set of stairs.
"What, the hoofball? Nah, was on the old fruity with Joy Star" Steely waggled his eyebrows suggestively despite his friend and co-worker unable to see him.
"You know I know they're a bloke right?" As they continued higher a loud groan emerged from the stairs. He'd definitely have to complain to someone about that, it sounded pretty nasty. "Also mate, I don't wanna be nagging neighbore, but I really think you should lay off the fruity, gambling's a real bad habit"
"You've got it all wrong Brawny, all wrong, see there's strategy to it!" They turned a corner and shuffled past a concerned looking Zebra holding his nose as the duo passed. "You've gotta prime the machine right, sure fifty bits-"
"FIFTY SODDIN' BITS!"
"Calm down Brawny, calm down. Now, see, you start with fifty bits and the things internal magic crystals know you're a big spender right? So any wins you get are big ones. Solid logic right there" Steely Gaze beamed with pride, he loved educating his best friend about the world.
The love soured though when said friend opened his mouth, "I think of you like a brother mate, but you're a real mug, you know that?"
A huffy silence followed for the next five rooms, three stairs, two bathrooms and secret-pantry. Despite the castle being built to the sisters exacting standards, it was a nightmare to move through. Every whim the two had was followed. Including the silly ones. Especially the silly ones. They'd found an ancient "clown training facility" one day. A single, white bearded pony stuck inside, forlornly honking his horn.
"Look mate," Brawny began hesitantly, "I just worry about you is all." The stairs were now at such a bizarre angle they were rolling the tightly wound carpet upwards, each step requiring a loud grunt of effort from the two. Sweat had begun to glisten on their coats and the thought of a nice, cold, beer in the canteen was at the forefront of their minds.
"I got it under control," the brown colt begrudgingly said, now interlacing each grunt with a loud 'oof'.
"See, me uncle said that. Next thing you know he was on the streets. Just don't wanna see anypony go through that. Poor bugger sold his teeth in the end..."
"How about this then, next time I go out, you come with. If I look like I'm going for the fruity you buy me another beer eh?"
A harsh laugh erupted as the two reached the top stair, the throne room now in sight.
"You just want free drinks mate," Brawny said, a smile on his face as the two entered the empty room.
"Well," Steely groaned in relief as he unloaded the rug, "You can't blame a colt for trying eh?"
"Course not mate, course not," he stretched his back out, an audible pop following a particularly swift turn. "Now, let's get to the canteen I heard its Taco Tuesday today".
Minutes after the two had left, voices fading into the distance, the rug began to move. It was barely perceptible at first, just a slight shake in its centre, soon though the shake evolved into a frenzied rocking, till inevitably it rolled open.
"FINALLY!" gasped a thoroughly bruised, bashed, and oxygen starved Changeling Queen. She swore she'd destroy the fool who'd suggested this 'plan' to her, then those two dolts who had so rudely smashed her into every available object in the castle. Then, when she was done peeling the flesh from their bones, only then would she finish them off, draining them of all heartwarmth until only a shrivelled up husk remained! First though was the matter of dealing with-
"Celestia?"
"Hello Chrysalis."
The Princess of the Sun loomed over her, radiant and terrifying in equal measure. A sinister golden glow emanating from her horn to her hooves added to the effect, rendering a certain Changeling very uncertain about her future.
"Ah."
"Goodbye Chrysalis"
One supersonic bucking later and the Queen of the Changelings had come to a decision (besides how unwelcome the horizon looked when you weren't flying to it under your own power), a very important decision in fact. One that would affect the very future of the Changeling race and lead to the rise of the Super Mothling race.
Rugs sucked.
Author's Note
Apparently I like tormenting Queen Chrysalis? This whole piece is quite literally based off a lame pun.
Brawny and Steely's dialogue is based off real conversations I've overheard.
