Ya know, if some guy told me that my best and only true friend was crazy, I would sock ‘em right in the schnoz. Not because I disagree, or because he is being an asshole. Not because I am blind to the messed up things that my friend is capable of. I would do it because, as much as I love my best friend, as much as I trust him to get my back, and as much as I respect him, he is crazy. The truth hurts, and I don’t need any more flak for hanging out with this pony and quite honestly, its pretty fuckin’ annoying how many ponies talk bad about him as it is. Trust me, I know my friend better than anypony else; I’ll be the first to tell you that Disconnect is a goddamn psychopath. But that’s why he needs me. Because no pony else would be his friend.
Luckily for both of us, he's only like this when provoked. And living in the shitty parts of Manehatten, he would be provoked often. Very often. But these were the only times he snapped. And he was scary. When he flipped out, ponies went to the hospital.
I used to find it hilarious how prejudice he was against anypony that wasn’t a unicorn. I mean seriously racist, especially towards earthponies, or as he calls them, “mud fuckers.” Now I don’t know if he actually is trying to imply that earth ponies fuck mud, or if he is calling them fuckers that live in mud. Ironically, I myself am a mud fucker, but he had told me “you’re one of the good ones,” for whatever that was worth. But his prejudice went even further than just the racism. If a pony wore their mane a funny way, or if their color were somehow unique he would be the one to pick a fight (fights he never lost), or at the very least throw a few uncalled for insults. The verbal onslaught he threw around was more than enough to amuse the both of us through our childhood. I mean he has some serious wit. (But for some reason he wasn’t sexist, and in fact held women in high regard. I couldn’t complain, ‘cause I tended to share his feelings for the fillies.)
Now here we found ourselves as adults and unfortunately he never seemed to grow out of his ways. Still the same slanderous youth on the inside, but he looks like a presentable if rugged young stallion. Much like myself actually, ponies always did say we looked like brothers, even if he did have a horn and I didn’t.
And we trotted lazily together sharing our past night’s experiences as we passed building after building. We strolled down Bread Street on the north side of Manehatten this cloudy afternoon, looking for a decent place to grab a bite to eat. Other than being hungry, both of us were in good moods.
“Is that bit… er is that mare still givin’ you trouble?” I asked Disconnect a bit concerned, remembering how much he hated it when I used the word ‘bitch’ when talking about the fillies.
“Bug off.” He said with bite in his voice. It wasn’t like I attacked him, but he for some reason had that impression.
“Come on dude, you can tell me…” I tried prying a bit more.
He didn’t let me finish my thought though, “I said bug off, I don’t wanna talk about it ok. Let's just get some freakin’ food." I had apparently struck a nerve. So much for being in a modestly good mood. I could especially tell that I had irritated him because he used the word 'freakin.' He had a tendency to self-censor when he became agitated, which I found strange.
"Alright dude, if you say so. Hey you know you can tell me anything though." I tried to reassure him. He merely grunted, brushing off my gesture. Lucky for me, I was his friend, his only friend. I could push a few nerves and not take heat from him.
We found ourselves outside a diner. It was the same diner we usually ate at when we skulked the streets of Manehatten. It was a decent place in a decent part of town. We liked it mainly cause the food was cheap and not tasteless like the food from the slummier parts of the city we were from.
I pushed open the door leading into the diner, offering the door open for Disconnect who received the gesture as genuinely as someone like him could. He merely grunted a "thank you" and passed me into the building. We found ourselves a booth in the back of the restaurant, the place we usually got when it wasn't taken, and seated ourselves, completely passing up the hostess at the front. That was fine, the ponies who worked here knew us well enough that it didn't cause any problems.
"You seem off all of a sudden." I commented to my friend after we had taken our booth. "You sure you don't wanna talk about it?" It had been as if the very mentioning of his love life had set him off. Something new was up, something was troubling him. I knew that if I didn't continue to pick at it, he would never say anything. He would never say anything and he would be stuck sulking.
"You're lucky we're friends," he replied sounding only slightly irritated. "Like I told you, I just wanna gets some food alright." God he was stubborn.
"If you say so." I finally said after staring at him in silence for a bit. I gave a deep sigh, trying to let go of the nagging feeling that told me to keep trying to get through to him.
And he had been like this before, though maybe not this much so. Whatever it was that was bothering him, I knew it was pretty bad. He must have managed to push his problem to the back of his mind earlier because he didn't act bothered at all before I brought it up. Shame too, the day seem to be going so well. Now he was brooding over his own misery, and I had to put up with it.
After several minutes had passed, Disconnect and I already had our food out before us, (another reason we liked this diner was the fantastic service.) I decided on the garden sandwich. I guess I didn't feel all that adventurous today. Neither did Disconnect, ordering the same salad he always got when we came here.
We had spent most of the time up to this point in silence, waiting for our food, sipping at our ice waters, looking over the rest of the diner.
Everything had seemed normal…
I looked up from my plate just before I took my first bite of the sandwich. I looked to my friend who was about to start eating his own meal, unravelling his silverware with his magic.
Just as he was about to levitate his fork into one of the leafy greens on his plate, I spoke up. "So how come we always come here to this same place and eat the same damn thing?" I had no idea where the question came from, but something was bothering me about this situation. It just felt so ordinary, nothing interesting ever happened.
He didn't seem too interested in my question. "So, what's wrong with that? I like this place. You like this place. Its cheap. And," he said leaning in and putting his fork aside for a moment, "I think that server over there has a thing for you." He said it with the straightest face he could manage.
I looked over to where he cast his glance and instead of finding cute young waitress, I saw a stallion who was currently taking someone else's order.
I turned my head back to Disconnect with a face of mock annoyance. He was joking and that meant that he had managed to push his misery to the back of his mind again. Indeed things were normal.
"Ha-ha very fuckin' funny, you know I'm not into that." I said flatly, pretending like I hadn't gotten the joke. He just smiled and gave gristly chuckle. "I mean we don't have to go somewhere else," I continued, trying to wean our conversation back on topic, "maybe just try different food or something."
He looked down at his plate, then looked back up and shrugged, "Like what. What else should I eat."
"I dunno," I replied, "maybe um… you wanna switch meals?" It wasn't really a serious question. Actually, I already knew he wouldn't be willing to eat a sandwich, or any hoof food for that matter.
"Nah, you know I don't eat hoof food." He said, looking at my plate with a slight look of distaste. He lifted up his plate with the magic of his horn, surrounding his meal in an orange bubble. He lifted the plate in front of his face and began to speak again. "Hoof food is dirty food. I don't eat dirty food. If I eat, I use silverware, like a gentlecolt." He gave a curt smile and nodded to himself looking content with his response.
Now finally something interesting. I always enjoyed a little debate. Even though we'd already had this conversation several times, it still managed to be interesting. One of us always came up with something new to bring to the argument.
"Dirty food?" I sounded offended, "What do you mean dirty food?"
Disconnect put back down the plate he had been levitating. "Yeah, it's dirty as shit dude." He paused, collecting his thoughts, and then continued, "Think about it, we spend most of the day walking around on our hooves. We walk all over the dirty-ass streets of Manehatten. Who knows what all stuff could be on our hooves?"
"Why not just go to the restroom and wash them then?" I proposed.
"From where we come from, I wouldn't be surprised if there was stuff that we couldn't wash off our hooves." He said, "And tell me this, did you even bother to wash yours before eating?"
I pulled up my forehooves and looked at them. They were covered in dirt and grime from walking all over the place. They practically poured dust around me as I looked at them. I looked up at disconnect and gave a chuckle. "Alright, ya got me there."
"Exactly, dirty hooves, dirty food. And that's why I never shake hooves either." He said.
"But still, it tastes pretty damn good, why don't you just use your fork and knife on them if dirty hooves bug you that much?" I still was trying to get him to buckle. He usually out debated me though, he was good at that stuff.
"And look like a fuckin' freak!" he gave a wry laugh, "Who eats a sandwich with a fork?" I smirked and then remembered back to the other day when I actually saw another pony do that. I thought it looked pretty strange at the time. We sat their silent for second before he said something else. "What about you, why didn't you order something like this salad."
I stared at him blankly for moment trying think of an answer.
"Well, we're at a diner so it's not exactly fine dining. So I don't need to eat something fancy, and besides, I don't have magic like you do," I said waving a hoof in front of me to reinforce my point. "…so using silverware is annoying and using my hooves is much easier."
"Fair enough." He said. Something caught his attention behind me.
"But wait, couldn't YOU just use your magic to eat the sandwich?" I asked. Now I had him.
After a moment of staring he finally said, "Your missing the point…" then he went silent, still looking at what ever it was he saw behind me. I cocked my head trying to figure out what it was he was thinking about behind those piercing red eyes. After several moments, he lifted a forehoof and made a gesture, pointing to the front of the diner. The way I was sitting I had to turn around to see what it was he had been pointing out. As I turned around in the booth, he said, "Look at this pair of fucking jokers."
He had been pointing out two ponies who barged their way through the entrance. They were mud-ponies (shit, now Disconnect's got me talking bad about my own kind.) They entered wearing ski-masks. One of them had a plastic bag draped over his back and both were brandishing knives. Big. Fucking. Knives
I turned back and faced Disconnect, who had his sights trained on the two intruders, and whispered, "Well ain't this just classy?" and chucked, returning my look back to the two ponies.
The place went quiet, as if there existence here was enough to draw everypony's attention, so we weren't the only ones to notice the two earthponies swagger in with bravado baring weapons.
The large of the two stood their turning his head to get a good look of the place he was about to hit. He made a gesture with one of his forehooves and his partner walked past him, right up to the hostess who had been watching helplessly. The masked pony grabbed the poor bitch by her mane and he held the blade up to her neck. It was only than did the restaurant erupt into noise. It started from the hostess who had the knife pressed up against her jugular, but murmurs from the other patrons faded into shouts of terror and confusion. Every pony ducked their heads trying to avoid the glaring look from the offenders, fearing that once wrong look would be the end. Not me and Disconnect, though. Disconnect wasn't intimidated, and if he wasn't scared, then neither was I.
I heard my friend whisper to me across the table, "Hold on to this, you may need it." With out looking at him, he passed me something. It was a switchblade… his switchblade. He carried it with him where ever he went, and now he was passing it to me. He expected a fight…
I triggered the knife hearing it fling around into action. I clenched it in the joint of my hoof down below the table, hiding it from the view of the room. And I waited.
"Alright everypony!" Shouted the apparent leader of the two, his voice layered with confidence and cockiness. "Here is the way this is gonna go down!" He had managed to shout above everyone else. "First thing: Eveypony is going to shut their fucking mouth!" He remained silent while his partner moved the hostess to one of the empty booths near the front and practically threw her into the seat. It took a few moments but the yelling died down, allowing the pony to shout the rest of his demands. "Second thing: I will come around to each one of you, and you are going to drop all of your money into my bag." He held up the plastic bag above his head.
Oh boy this was going to be good.
"I hope everyone here understands." He continued, "If any of you try anything, we will start cutting ponies up." He dropped the hoof holding the bag and bared his blade where the whole room could see it clearly. "Alright, now if we can get in and out without any problems, you will all be on with your shitty day, got it?"
His threats and demands were met with blank stares from everypony.
"Good." he said confidently, a bit quieter.
It was at that moment, a door at the side of the restaurant creaked open and out came chunky pegasus. He wore a red and black striped tie that hung from his neck like a noose and a pair of round spectacles sat slant on his rat face. He was the manager, here to take care of his turf. Or more appropriately, try to plead for the safety of his patrons and employees.
He approached the criminals, timid and sweating nervously.
"Okay look sir, we don't want any trouble." He rolled out in his choked up panic. He sounded pathetic. He sounded like he was begging for his own life. "We'll give you what you want, just don't hurt anyone… please." The second crook, the one who had been handling the hostess, made his way to the manager and grabbed him by the tie. He let at a choked sound as the pony dragged him and threw him in the booth with the hostess.
"Alright," said the crook who had thrown the manager down, "looks like we have a hero over here. What should I do to him?"
The leader of the two looked at him briefly and said, "A hero? Why don't you just execute the motherfucker?"
"I'm not hero." The manager said pathetically, the pony's knife pointed at his throat. He laid sprawled out in the booth, helpless, like a turtle on its back.
"Alright hero!" Mocked the number two. "If you don't want to die, you will do exactly what I say."
"Yes… yes anything just don't hurt anyone." He pleaded.
The knife wielder moved his head in closer to the manager and smartly spoke. "Tell everyone here that everyone will be ok." he demanded. "And then I'm going to need you to go to the back and round up all of your cooks and anyone else who might be hiding back there and bring them up front. Are you with me so far?"
He nodded frantically.
"Good!" he said, and grabbed the manager by his tie and pulled him back up. "Now say it."
"Wha-what."
"What do you mean 'what'? Weren't you listening to me, tell your fucking restaurant that everything will be alright."
"Ok ok ok…" He cried, and then he spoke up to the rest of us in the diner, his voice trembling with fear. "Everything will be alright!" His voice cracked at the end, leaving one of the two criminals snickering.
"Alright fat-ass." Poked the number two, his blade resting against the back of the manager's neck, "Go get the rest of your employees." He pushed the manager in the direction of the kitchen. "You try anything and we start cutting ponies."
No more than a minute passed and a line of ponies clad in kitchen aprons filed out of the kitchen and into the main room. There were five of them plus another waiter who had been in the back at the time and they filled an empty table in the middle of the room. Their heads turned in confusion. They had no idea what was happening.
The number two turned his knife back to the manager who took the initiative to sit back in the booth with the hostess. He guarded those two while the lead crook went from table to table cleaning ponies of all their money.
I could hear the sound bits falling into the black trash sack the pony carried around. It grew slowly louder as he got closer and closer to us. I leaned across the table and asked Disconnect, "You planning on giving these shits any money?"
"Not a fucking chance." he whispered back.
"Think we can take 'em?"
"A couplea' mud fuckers with knives? Damn straight we can take them." I trusted his words, he was a good judge of this thing. Then he continued speaking a bit lower, "We ain't looking for trouble though, lets see if we can talk some sense into them first."
Thats right Disconnect, play it smart. He wasn't scared, he was never scared. Never.
"Worst comes to worst, we take 'em quick and clean by surprise, I will give you the signal should it come to that." He explained and then leaned back slack in his booth seat, watching, waiting for the crook to move our way.
Another table closer, I clenched the switchblade tighter.
Another table closer. The jangle of the bits hitting bits echoed throughout the diner as people pushed all of their cash into the bag.
The few tables and booths around us had been empty so once he hit the gap, he looked our way and trotted over here, carrying the bag of bits slung over his back and the knife clenched in his teeth. I'll admit, he was a pretty intimidating earthpony. Maybe it was the ski mask covering his face or his rather large stature, but even with my magical tycoon friend next to me, I felt chills go down my neck. It didn't help that we would be provoking him by refusing him our money.
He stopped in front of our table and took one look at us before leading the loot sack onto the floor and grabbing his knife with a free foreleg. "Where the fuck's your money?" He demanded. Up close, his voice came out scratchy like a pack-a-day smoker. It made me wonder how he was able to carry his voice so well.
Disconnect looked up at him, not making any effort to reach for his bit purse, and said, "Don't have any… Sorry?"
"Fuck you say?!" He said sounding less irritated and more amused by my friend's insolence.
Disconnect's mouth curved into a faint smile as he replied like the smart-ass he was, "Forgot my money at home dude. I was gonna have my friend here pay for us, but he left his at home too." The way he said it left no room for the masked knife-pony to believe the story. He was just trying to irritate the offender and it looked like it was working.
"Ha ha ha" he choked out fakely "…you're a regular goddamn comedian aren't you?"
"Sorry dude, guess your just shit outta luck here."
There was a voice from across the diner, a meek and pathetic voice. It was the manager. "Stop, sir, you're going to get us all killed…"
Disconnect dropped his smile and quickly snapped at the poor bastard, "Shut the FUCK up fat-ass. I didn't ask your opinion!"
"You'd better listen to the fatty" Urged the pony next to us who was now baring his big-ass knife. He held it pointing at Disconnect threateningly.
"I hate to shatter your ego," retorted my friend, completely unmoved by the threat, "but this isn't the first time I've had a knife pointed at me. And I am definitely not afraid of a mud fucker like you."
I looked at the two, who stared each other down intensely. Seeing the knife the pony was holding made made me feel smaller and smaller. The switchblade I gripped looked felt like a toy in comparison. I swallowed my growing nervousness, reminding myself that I was with Disconnect.
The pony before us eyed Disconnect's horn warily. I think he may have started to understand what he might be getting himself into. There was a reason earth ponies didn't mess with unicorns. Magic tended to be the end-all fighting trump card.
But he wasn't going to back down that easily, he still had me to threaten, though I could tell that he was starting to take Disconnect's words personally.
"Mud fucker you say?" He said. He finally started to sound irritated. He understood the racist insult. He looked over at me. "Like your friend here? Why don't I kill him for you. You know, since we are nothing but 'mud fuckers.'" He then pointed the knife at me.
I was waiting for my friend to give the signal. Having this big knife pointed my way was beginning making me increasingly uneasy.
"How does that sound?" the criminal continued, "How about I cut his throat instead? Us mud fuckers are just in your way aren't we, so the least I can do is kill the one you've been having to put up with." He was getting really worked up.
Disconnect looked at me calmly, then back at our assailant. "Oh you wouldn't dare." He said sarcastically, like he really was daring him to.
I could see the hate behind the ski mask. The pony quickly moved his blade in close to my neck.
Damn it give me the sign Disconnect.
He pressed the blade against my neck and I could feel it dropping the fur matted there. It invaded my space, shaving a thin line on my throat.
"Would you like it if I killed him?" He started sounding crazy. Maybe it was an act though, to intimidate Disconnect. Maybe he was trying to come across as unpredictable.
The thought of that made me chuckle on the inside. Hah, the only unpredictable one here was Disconnect. But still, where was the sign.
And then Disconnect looked over at me and seeing that the knife was practically carving a tattoo in my neck, he finally gave me a signal. He mouthed the word "now."
That was all I needed. With the offender standing at my right holding the knife so close to my neck it was hard to breath, hard to think, I prepared for the jump. My free forehoof, the left one, snaked its way up between his foreleg and my body. In one swift motion, I pushed his leg out and down, slamming it onto the table. His armed hoof hit my plate, shattering it, and his knife slid away. I then rose the foreleg that gripped the switchblade and sent it down into his leg. It penetrated deep, splitting flesh and worming through the bone. I looked at his face. His eyes were wide with shock. He hadn't felt it yet, too much shock, like he didn't want to believe what I was doing. Then I looked back at my work, lifting my left hoof and slamming it into the hilt of the switch blade like a hammer on a nail, driving it the rest of the way through his foreleg.
It wasn't until now that he let a scream. "Gah FUCK!"
But I wasn't done yet. I rose my right hoof, letting go of the switchblade and slammed it into the part of his foreleg halfway between the blade and his body over and over again, until I felt a snap and heard the sound of bone cracking. Then finally I pushed him away from the table and he collapsed on the floor in pain.
Nopony had seen it coming. I had done this in the course of only a few seconds and the partner of the now crippled criminal hadn't moved yet. He was too dumbfounded to do anything much less protect his friend.
I looked up to Disconnect who looked back at me, quickly getting up from the booth. His horn started glowing orange and up went the bag full of bits. He slung it over his back and then he picked up the crippled pony's blade with his magic. "Let's get the fuck out of here of here…" he said with a slow draw. I got up and stepped over the writhing pony.
I could hear him hissing and cussing under his breath, trying to cope with pain in his leg.
We trudged towards entrance while all the ponies in the room looked at us, following our trail with their eyes. I started to wonder what would happen after we left the place. Would we be considered heroes? Or would we simply be the ponies who recklessly took out two criminals, putting dozens of other ponies' lives in danger. Maybe we had done a bad thing.
As if to wash away all my self doubt, the number two crook, who was still standing by the manager and hostess, finally said something. He sounded scared shitless. Nonetheless he seemed determined to avenge his fallen friend. "Wha-where do you th-think you two are going?" He was still holding on to his big-ass knife like it was the only thing standing in the way of him and Disconnect's magic. And it was.
"We are leaving." Disconnect said sternly as we reached the entrance. I was ahead of Disconnect and already holding the door open for him, and then he threw the bag of bits at the him. He was letting the criminals win. He was letting them get away with robbing these ponies.
But why?
"No-no, y-you aren't going anyfuckingwhere." Stuttered the number two, still looking intently at Disconnect and me.
Did he have a death wish?
"Oh," posed Disconnect, feigning interest, "and what exactly what do you plan on doing if we try."
He looked wildly around for something that he could use to his favor. And then his eyes went over the hostess who was still huddled in the booth next to him. He grabbed her and pulled her out of the seat. He put a knife up against her neck and she tried struggling to get away. She wasn't strong enough to break free or was afraid that moving too much may mean an accidental slip of the knife.
"I… I-I'll cut her fucking throat open." He said desperately.
This got Disconnect's attention. I looked back at him, still holding the door open. He stopped dead in his tracks. He turned and faced the offending pony.
"You do that, and I will freaking turn you inside out and watch you bleed to death." Disconnect said coldly. Oh shit, he was on the edge of snapping.
He would do it. And I don't just mean he would kill the pony. He was fully capable of turning the dumbass inside out.
They stared at each other for what seemed like a minute before the masked pony finally lost what was left of his balls. "Fuck… Fuck! Alright." He let go of the waitress, pushing her forward. She collapsed over the bag of bits, causing a few to spill out on the floor.
"Let's go." My friend finally said looking back towards the door. I had realized that I was holding my breath. I released it and followed him out of the diner.
***
We trotted in silence for several blocks.
I finally broke the silence, "I'm proud of you for not snapping back there." I said. "That would have been ugly…"
"My girlfriend is cheating on me." He cut me off.
We stopped walking and we looked at each other for a second. I looked at the ground and then back up at him awkwardly and said, "Oh… shit, sorry. I didn't know… Disconnect that sucks, I'm so sorry man."
"Yeah well, you did ask earlier what was wrong with me. Well now you know… Can we just go somewhere to eat now, I'm still hungry."
The abrupt reversion back to normal jared my thought process. "Wha… oh yes of course." In all the commotion I forgot that we hadn't even gotten a chance to eat.
And so we left to find a new place to eat. Hopefully this time things wouldn't be so interesting, and we could eat in peace.
I would have to try my best to pull my friend out of this depression, but I knew he would eventually move on.
