Would Chaos Really Be So Bad?

Chapters

Chapter One: The Most Average of Days.
Chapter Two: The Most Average of Shopping Days
Chapter Three: Not An Average Park Day
Chapter Four: The Average Delivery Part 1
Chapter Five: The Average Delivery Part 2
Chapter Six: The Average Delivery Part 3

Chapter One: The Most Average of Days.

You’re ready and set to go. Before opening your door from the other side, you almost forget to pour coffee into the water pot for when your lively wife would fall back awake. You push the side of the door near the hinges only to fall through a panel in the floor and get trampolined to your mailbox. Oops, it’s sunny outside today. You pull the mailbox out of the ground to fetch the morning mail and then place the wooden spoke back in the hole. Humming, you trot back to your door, knock three times, and it generously gives you your umbrella.

You push your umbrella open with your left hoof and hold it above your head to let the water fall up. You always thought that was nifty, water that fell up from your umbrella. It certainly made gardening easier.

You know, when the pumpkins weren’t fighting with the zucchinis. That demanded a trowel almost every time.

It’s a short walk to your job at the flower shop. The traffic is unusually bubbly today. Oh right, Discord had issued a bubble transport system for the week memo. It wasn’t mandatory, but from the way ponies were aimlessly floating along, some desperately trying to bash their heads against the veil to move in one direction, but it at least appeared interesting. Maybe even fun.

You duck, as usual (one of the rare moments of predictability) as a strange pony, always bubbling her lips, flew on by. Behind those swirly eyes was the mind of evil… or maybe just confused corruption. Still, that beanie hat would be nice.

But you don’t wear hats now, nopony does. Not since that incident. No one trusts them anymore, not even Discord.

The bell above the door plays like a trumpet for a moment as you walk inside. The smell of roses and the Honey Bee Mafia led by Jerry Springer in a bee suit that was black with yellow stripes (as opposed to yellow with black stripes for copyright reasons), permeated your nostrils. One had to ask, what was the deal with Honey Bees? You spray him with comedy repellent.

Ha, of course it doesn’t work.

Insect repellent works too. Thankfully there’s a bottle of that right next to your comedy repellent near the door. He leaves without much of a fuss except for asking the same question. Another dose of the spray and he’s out of your shop.

You take in a deep breath. The morning hadn’t gone so badly in all honesty. You close the umbrella and leave it outside, propped up against the front. Your turn around and press your hoof against the “Open/Close” sign. It wasn’t budging.

It was going to be one of those mornings, wasn’t it?

A frustrated grunt escapes your lips. Discord always had a knack for making ponies problem solve, but sometimes it was more aggravation than anything. You attempt to turn the door around. Nope, that’s stuck in place too, much to your dwindling patience.

A puff of smoke leaves your nostrils. You step outside and walk around to the back of your shop. You stand yourself near the left corner of your rectangular building and begin to push. It manages to slide with ease across the ground, thankfully, and through one of the side windows you notice the sign is remaining in place as if glued to nothing in mid-air.

You guessed you’d be serving customers on the other side today.

You walk back in, the bell jingles like a harp, and you go behind the counter.

Unfortunately, business is slow for your little flower store. While Discord didn’t demand taxes because he could, y’know, do whatever he wanted and bend reality infinitely, other stores still demanded Dracons. Money. Not a lot of ponies want, or need, flowers during these hectic times. Despite them being a rarity and a sign of stabilization (it was difficult to grow healthy plants when the sun and moon rise and lower “whenever they feel like it”), few cared for them.

You get one customer. It’s enough, really. He buys practically a bush’s worth of roses and then runs off. He meets with a nice mare a few minutes later and they go off to do whatever it was young lovers did during Chaos day.

Every day was Chaos Day. Except when it was Discord Day. But every day was also Discord Day. Most ponies just called it Day. So, they went to go do whatever young lovers do during Day.

During the rest of your eight hour shift of watching the shop, during which the sun and moon transition a record twelve times in an hour, you get one other customer. She’s really timid and she asks you some awkward questions about what to get for… another girl. You roll through the routine questions of her favorite colors or things. Awkward? Yes, but nothing you were opposed to. The situation just didn’t come up that often.

Eventually you find her an appropriately priced and sized bundle and she’s on her way. Just outside of the shop, you see that mare and the stallion who came in earlier outside. Your recent most customer is giving the flowers to that stallion’s special someone. You go wide-eyed as she accepts them, sheds a tear, and they share a romantic kiss.

The pour soul who just got dumped gallops away. The one who accepted the flowers holds a hoof out to maybe call for him, but she looks saddened as he didn’t stop. There was probably going to be some kind of awkward explanation. Darn.

Maybe you should serve to this side of the street more often, the drama here at least helps you pass the time.

At the end of your shift, you turn the shop around to close it once more, and then key the door with the lock. Since it was the third Day of the forty second month during the Autumpring season under exactly four of six visible stars, that meant you should either cartwheel or jump rope home. You look up at the sky. Thank goodness you double checked, there was actually five stars out of six visible. That meant you got to roll home in the gyro ball!

Somedays had its bonuses. At least it wasn’t the seventeenth day of the eighth week of Discord month when the Candy Volcano was erupting… nopony likes that day. Too many kittens if you were asked.

Because randomness worked in your favor as much as it hated you, a gigantic gyro ball rolls up to the front of your shop. You pick up your umbrella with your mouth and step inside. The seatbelt looks incredibly confusing. Surprisingly enough, Discord enforced safety so there was always the handy auto-leaver at the cost of a pie in your face.

Today’s pie was cherry. Awesome.

Your friendly neighborhood Spider Bat gets behind you and pushes you along, and you childishly let out “Weeeeee!” in giddy joy all the way home.

Poor Spider Bat, your home was an uphill journey both ways. Not your problem. Weeeee!

You tip the Spider Bat when you get home and give him a slice of the not-ruined face pie. You also tip him, just for good measure, and he moves on to the next pony who was about to go home.

As was tradition, you knocked three times to get inside. You step through the door portal and end up in your bedroom, just as you had programmed it to. Apparently Discord didn’t mind that bit of predictability because… portals are cool.

Your wife, a beautiful white Pegasus with a dark blue mane, lifts her head from the covers. “So honey, how was your day.”

“Nothing out of the ordinary.”

She sighs as if a huge wave of relief came over her. “That’s good. I went to the doctor today. Good news. I’m pregnant, but I'm not the mother.”

Better words of relief were never spoken before so. “That’s great!”

She pauses and looks at you with those concerned, alluring eyes if hers.

“That’s great… right?”

“I guess… but what if I wanted a baby?”

You pull the covers over you, rest your head on the pillow and look at her. She does the same. “Then, I guess we’ll just have to keep trying.” You wiggle your eyebrows.

“Want to do the honors?”

You say in the sexiest voice you can, “I’ll get the dishwasher started.”

Author's Note

Say, want to see a specific situation an average pony like yourself would have to go through during Discord's reign? Go ahead and comment about it. The next chapter will cover an average citizen's experience of going shopping at a grocery store. Also, pay attention to my avatar and re-read those last couple of paragraphs, would you?

Yeah, you get that Dishwasher working.

Chapter Two: The Most Average of Shopping Days

You wince as your hooves clack against the candy road leading up to your least favorite place: the grocery store. Despite the abject random chaos flowing through the air and ground, food was not something that just “happened”. Like flowers, it took time and dedication to grow. Farmers were given a little leeway in this regard with the Agriculture Treaty of 1560A.

Discord gave establishments he recognized as efficient and knowledgeable in the practice an orb of light that acted like the sun but only gave light to the plants they grew. Actual rainclouds, the not chocolate kind, were delivered on a regular basis as well.

You had seen one of the lights before when you were in school; it was a small orb that defied most physics. It did not cast light, even in the dark, yet all things plant could grow under it. It was a marvel and an anomaly at the same time. The draconequus in charge said the reason it doesn’t give visible light is to make sure it didn’t obstruct with the sun and moon routines. Nobody could complain, the thing worked. More importantly, it worked well.

But all of those products created by farmers eventually found their way to the store you were walking to. This store had no such treaty. The store was, in sum, madness incarnate. A horribly brilliant, efficient, and reckless establishment in an air-conditioned environment.

You put on your helmet, a pink plastic cap with matching chin straps. With a deep breath, you finally go inside.

There are four rows of ten spots with each spot being an unfinished white rectangle the size of an average pony, usually with the bottom line missing. Above, there’s a sand-timer that looked almost empty and there’s one spot left on the floor for a contestant. It’s number thirty three out of forty. You give a nervous smile at the ponies beside you who in turn wave with the same friendliness. All three of you knew that once the doors opened, you wouldn’t even dare to make eye contact.

The last grain of sand drops and an alarm rings. The doors behind you close and everyone is left in the dark, quietly murmuring amongst one another.

“Welcome to Hoover’s Grocery Store. Today’s sales are on toilet paper, pumpkins, and cookies. You have ten minutes to grab what you need and pay. Those who fail to leave by this time will be forcefully removed with no groceries with a one day waiting penalty. You’ll have to try again on the next run.”

You take a deep breath… this was it. The floor beneath you gives way and you drop into a padded shopping cart which rises back up to the level you were just at. You’re unsure whether or not you have a good one yet, there’s no light to tell. The cart feels roomy though, family sized perhaps. You’re not sure if it’s a good thing.

“Three…”

The front and second row lights turn on. You can see some passengers had acquired carts with rockets, some with nothing at all. One got one shaped like a row-boat… one pour soul didn’t even get a cart but he landed in rollerblades with triangle wheels!

“Two…”

The third row light comes on and much of the same occurs.

“One…”

Your light comes on and you’ve landed in a two-pony cart with a pair of artificial pegasus wings. In front of you is a dash board with now-activated lights and switches most of which say “do not use unless necessary”. You plan to keep to those words. Your hooves grab the front two levers, hopefully which were for steering.

“GO!”

The first row takes off, each pony moving as fast as their cart or legs could carry them, followed by the second and then the third row and finally the forth row, your row. You press the red button on the shopping cart handle labeled “GO! AWESOME!” and your pegasus wings begin flapping. You’re lifted off of the ground, a bit shakily at first, and then burst forward with dangerous speed. Immediately, you take a sharp left to avoid the main section of traffic heading towards the sales and necessary groceries. If you’ve learned anything from this place, it’s to start with non-perishables first.

Sharp right, go down, duck, barrel roll left and then barrel roll right. Thank Discord this came with auto-pilot.

Down below you now is that pour soul with the rollerblades. If it wasn’t for first row, he’d never have gotten so far ahead (how he got to where he was already was a mystery in its own). Rolling your eyes, you decide to do the right thing and scoop him up. With a startled yelp, he lands inside the cart alongside you.

“Thanks a lot, I appreciate it. N-“

“No time, hold your left hoof out.”

“Wh-what!?”

“Hold out your hoof!”

He sticks it out and canned goods roll into the basket. He pulls it back in when the aisle disappears. “Good call.”

“Ok, get ready, we’re making a left turn into the fruit district. Need anything?”

“Apples and oranges, and a watermelon.”

Sharp ascend, fly upside down for three seconds to avoid upper traffic, air-drift left. Now in the fruit district. “I’m going to pull alongside the apple cart since I need some too. Get ready to sort the bad from the good. Ready?”

He nods.

“Ok!” You slap the blue button on the handle of your cart, “Sudden Stop for Pansies” which slows you to a grating halt. Slightly nauseous, you hobble out and shake your head. “Go!”

You don’t hear a second set of hoof-steps. You turn around and the roller-pony is hopping into the driving seat. Instincts kick in and just as he slaps the red button, you latch onto the bottom rack below the main cart. You both zoom up . “Hey! What’s the big idea!?”

“Sorry man, I need these groceries! Ain’t no way I’m waiting the failure penalty.”

You lift your legs as a rocket cart underneath narrowly misses you. “You could have stayed near the entrance and then just tried again with a better set of wheels! There’s no penalty for that!”

He snickers. “Yeah, but why wait two minutes for the next group and maybe get lucky with a ride like this when I have it now?”
His logic was horrendous… and he was selfish. There was no way you were going to get the cart back by arguing with him.

An unfortunate consequence of day to day chaos. With a frown, mostly carved out of your own disappointment, you attempt to clamber back up the cart. Your cart-jacker throws some of the canned food at you. It hurts, but you don’t let go.

In one swift move, you flip yourself back in and kick his face. Apparently you did it much harder than you had intended because he let go of the controls and flipped over the edge into the dairy district. The poor guy, that’s the furthest place from the check-out counter. Maybe he’d make it if he took off the skates and bolted for it so he could go again…

Or maybe he deserved it, the jerk.

You snap back into reality when you realize your cart is headed straight for a wall. There’s not enough room for a left or right, and you can’t go up either for a half loop. You were going to have to make a gut-wrenching down half-loop. You gulp and close your eyes.

You push down on the controls and find yourself flying upside down and considerably dizzy. You turn yourself right-side up again and now you’re flying normally. It’s only been three minutes and you already have canned goods. Back to the fruits and then maybe you’ll have everything you need…

The clock dings just as you pass the closing double doors with three full bags of groceries. It wasn’t a bad haul, it’ll last you and your wife for a while. Above is a scoreboard (for whatever reason) that hangs above the exit. For those that made it out, there was a score for each pony. You made sixth place. Not bad at all. Only eighteen customers made it out of the ten minute margin. The pony who had tried to steal your cart wasn’t on the list of faces who made it.

Serves him right.

You begin to trek home to take a nap… you hated going to the grocery store.

Author's Note

Would you look at that? Grocery stores are fast, efficient, and fun, the complete opposite of today's. I think Discord has the right idea, except for the whole flying part, that's a little reckless. I've always wondered what the parks are like during Discord's reign. Are there even parks? Hmm. Yes.

Got an idea for average chaos days? Tell me, that means you'd be interested in reading about it which is only a good thing for me.

Cheers
~Cosmic

Chapter Three: Not An Average Park Day

The way the lollypop cloud drifted leisurely in the sky above your shop hinted that today was going to be an exceptionally slow day. Most of the time, chaos was rampant with disharmony as its nearest complement; today appeared to be an exception. Roads actually looked “normal”, as normal as they’d get, and the horizon wasn’t on fire. Perhaps Discord was having an off day. You think that if he’s having an off day, you too should get a day off. It was rare that one needn’t worry about the day-to-day survival and you feel the urge to appreciate it.

And, surprisingly, so did everypony else. Business was slow, but activity outside was not. Really, when the two were juxtaposed, it was like night and day. Of course, it didn’t help that the moon was directly above the shop’s skylight and the sun was in the sky as well, leaving a perfectly straight line on the ground defining day and night. In other words, a literal juxtaposition to your own.

The door unexpectedly opens and a guitar solo (Was that… journey?) echoes from the bell. To your astonishment, it’s your wife. “Honey, what are you doing here?”

She flips her mane out of her eyes as she effortlessly glides past the daffodils. “I got a big lunch hour today and I thought I’d visit you.” She approaches the counter and rests her front hooves on the front, eyeing the violets in the jar. “May I?”

“Of course, have one.”

She gingerly lifts a hoof and picks a violet out. With a smile on her face, she eats it. “You grow the best flowers, dear.”

You roll your eyes. “Yeah, Chitin, but my wife doesn't like violets.”

Your not-wife goes wide-eyed as it realizes it’s been caught. Spitting out the treat as if it was rancid, your wife morphs into a changeling with azure eyes. Yup, it was definitely Chitin. “Well, that’s just another thing to remember,” she says like she’s adding it to her mental notebook. It always surprised you how pony-like she sounded. Her natural accent wasn't even close to changeling. “Shame, and I thought I’d get it this time.” She rubs the base of her horn and blushes. The blue on her cheeks reminds you of the Blue Cupid’s Dart flowers, the closest tone anyways.

“Chitin, we’ve been over this...” You don’t exactly dislike Chitin, but her persistence on trying to feed on your love was getting more than aggravating. At least when she wasn’t hungry she was good company. “No matter how hard you try, I know it’s you.”

She flitters her wings and gets eye level with you. “If Queen Chrysalis the Eighth can do it, I can too.”

Again, at least she was persistent. “So, what can I get for you?” you ask politely, changing the subject. Your emotional parasite friend takes it with a grain of salt. You and her both know she’s tried the same routine for a while and you jumping to the next point immediately was beginning to show. She starts with a polite cough.

“Actually, I meant what I said earlier.” She drops to the ground and lands on her hooves. “I got a whole hour to spend and nowhere to spend it.”

Well, the shop was slow today. You wouldn’t mind having Chitin as a guest for a while. “Well, if you’d like I could close the shop for a while and we could go get something.” Your stomach growls in agreement. Sure, you were in a flower shop filled with delectable treats and gifts, but making it your diet was a bad thing. You’ve seen ponies who eat only flowers… it’s not pretty.

“I heard there’s a Pic-Shop in the park today. The sun’s going to be over it for some time so they opened up again.”

You feel your eyebrow raise. “Pic-Shop?”

“Yeah, it’s a restaurant that lends out picnic baskets filled with food and those sitting tarps! You eat what’s inside and then you give the basket and blanket back. You’ve never been to one?”

You can’t say that you have and your shrug tells her the rest.

“Ok, it’s settled. We’ll go to the Pic-Shop. Couples go there too and I wouldn’t mind an afternoon snack.” She leans up against the counter and lets her eyes droop alluringly. “But we could st-“

“No.”

“Can’t blame a changeling for trying. Come on, grumpy, let’s go.”

~~~

The park looked phenomenal. There was green grass everywhere, trees weren’t texturized with quilt patterns, and there wasn’t an explosion anywhere. Even better, the sky was turquoise, an actual shade of blue! It was like the area was in a pocket of complete sanity. It looked natural. Part of you feared what that meant for Discord. If there were pockets or normal floating around, something was up… or a huge storm was bound to happen. You’ll definitely be checking with the weather patrols for the time being.

But you weren’t here to predict your demise, you were here with Chitin. As you walked up to the East Arch, ponies and couples of ponies gave you a passing glance. But, they gave more glares to Chitin. Sure, Changelings had integrated into society completely centuries ago, but their form of eating was still frowned upon. Having a relationship with one, even professional, was deemed indecent.

Knowing Chitin for as long as you have, she wouldn’t hurt a fly. You had once met with her accomplices who ran a dating newspaper and they were all fine, even well mannered. They weren’t the stereotypical love-seeking drones ponies and gryphons made them out to be. She walks beside you like a business partner, knowing the ground you both tread.

True to her word, there was a brown unicorn with a grey mane and tail standing at a stall labeled “Pic-Shop: Lunch with your bunch!” he had some slight baggage under his eyes as if he’d been at it for a while and looked like he could use a break. The way he attempted enthusiasm certainly proved your suspicions.

Your changeling companion is the first to speak up and orders a package for two. You reach to help pay, but she insists that she take this tab. The stallion cocks an eyebrow and asks if you’re together. Perhaps unsurprisingly at this point, Chitin replies, “Nah, that’s my brother, Xylex.”

Fun part is, nobody really knew except for you two if that was true since Changelings could morph. Eavesdroppers usually had a fair share of paranoia attacks at this time and the stallion behind the stall apologized for his assumption. Just today, you roll with it, just to give those passersby’s something to think about.

Weird… changeling relationships were ok… and so were pony and gryphon relationships. Heck, a dragon and a minotaur were wed once, but why was this specific set so odd. Even in chaos there was still discrimination.

You pick a spot near the edge of the picnic zone as determined by the signs with ribbon running between them. It’s away from most of the other customers and you don’t want anything to do with ponies who think badly of your friends for no reason.

“Thanks for paying, I’ll take it next time.”

She eyes you with a glimmer in her eyes. “You mean, there will be a next time!?”

Oops, you should have worded that one better. “Yeah, but just as friends, Chitin.”

You open the basket and find a daisy sandwich, some orange juice, sweetened hay fries, a still frosty shake activated by drinking (unicorn magic was awesome, you had to admit), and some assorted candies. “Wow, that’s a lot for just one.”

Chitin shrugs. She sits on her hind legs and activates her horn, closing her eyes to concentrate. It was best not to disturb her while she silently feasted on couple’s romance. Typically where happy couples turned into an argument, that’s where a changeling was at work. You watch for a moment, munching on the sandwich, as two gryphons at the far side of the picnic area look like they’re bickering in hushed voices.

“Ahh, nice,” she says with a satisfied exhale. “That will keep me for a few days.”

You gulp, part fear part food. You look up at the sky. Normally, the park was filled with wild trees and disco music. But today, birds were chirping to ragtime music and a calm breeze was sweeping through the blades of grass so effortlessly, it looked so… natural.

And it worried you, parks were not meant to be so pleasant. They were meant as a dumping ground and warzone for extra chaos that piled up in city lives. Why wasn’t there a scorpion that shot a laser out of its tail the size of a farm silo? Why wasn’t there a flock of pillows flying in the sky that occasionally “dropped” quarter-Dracons and baby teeth?

Chitin pokes you in the side. “Hey, you ok? It’s not like you to space out.”

You shake it off. Maybe you should enjoy this breath of fresh air. “Yeah, I’m ok. It’s just, the weather’s really nice today and I’m worried.”

She nods. “I can see where you’re coming from. It’s like the eye of a really bad storm or when you take your boyfriend to the movies and he runs into his X. The good part was going to the movies, but-“

You had just been thinking about storms too. “I get it, Chitin.”

“Wanna go to the movies?”

You roll your eyes and can’t help but laugh a little. “No thanks, but I appreciate it.”

You two mostly sit in silence, absorbing the sun’s rays. After you finish your meal, you lie down on your back and look up at the sky. It’s a shame that it wouldn’t look like this for much longer, you wished all parks could stay like this. Knowing Discord though, he always dished out a new wave of chaos three-fold of the last to compensate for normal-anomalies.

“Hey, Chitin.”

“Hmm?”

You look to your left and see she’s lying down too. “Why me?”

“Why you what?”

“Why pester me all the time for love with my wife?”

She’s silent for a moment and then chuckles as if the answer was obvious. “Well, marriages don’t happen too often here. Chaos usually separates people, physically or mentally. So when a pact is formed, a girl’s gotta take what she can get. Love like yours is hard to come by. If you didn’t live in such a suburban town like this one, you’d be swarmed by changelings like me.”

“So I bet you don’t talk much about us, right?”

“Bingo.”

And that’s why you kept Chitin around, besides her good company. She must have been spreading lies, or at least not mentioning you, to both protect you and have you to herself. It was like unknowingly paying a bodyguard. You know she must be silently seeping off your love for your wife sometimes, but it’s honestly ok with you. You’re not sure how your wife would react if she knew… maybe it’d be better if she accidentally found out or it never came up. She was kind of picky about things.

An odd idea crosses your mind like the sudden impact of a meteor. “Hey, Chitin.”

“Hmm?”

“Let’s go see a movie. I’ll buy, popcorn and all.”

She bounces up. “Really?”

“Sure, why not. Also, we’ll want to leave in like ten seconds.”

“Why’s that?”

“METEOR!”

Author's Note

Gosh dang it, Discord. Now I get it, you clever thing you, you made the park all nice so everyone would go to it. And then you tried to squish them. Brilliant.

So, we've established that on an average day anything can and could go wrong, grocery stores are equivalent to a three dimensional NASCAR, and parks are war zones. I wonder what riding a train is like.

Chapter Four: The Average Delivery Part 1

Your left leg is propping your head up on the counter as you lazily sway from side to side. You think to yourself and question how business could possibly be so slow on a day like today. Your shop had sprouted legs- chicken legs to be exact- and was periodically clucking through town. You had to apologize for when it pecked at some of the neighbors’ rooftops but even then your shop was obedient; if you said for it to sit, it sat. So why wasn’t there anyone calling to come inside and get some flower treats for themselves or for a gift for someone else? You didn’t know, even free advertising wasn’t in your favor today.

As you smack your lips from another lazy yawn, you finally hear the call of a passerby wanting to get inside.

“Yoo hoo, flower man? Are you up there?”

Your shop crows at them. Maybe they were rooster legs, actually. What did you know, you didn’t farm chickens. Happily, rubbing some sleep out of your eyes, you demand your rooster store to perch and it does. It gently lowers itself to the ground and to your surprise, you’re met with the mailman: a gryphon. There wasn’t much that set this gryphon apart from others you had seen other than the feathers on the top of his head were combed backwards. Other than that, it was the typical brown and white feather coat routine.

Also, what kind of gryphon said “Yoo hoo?”

“Yes, do I have a delivery?”

“-to make, you do. Yup, yessir, special request from a citizen in New Canterlot who wants some flowers, yup.” Something bugs you about the way he’s talking; he’s not enthusiastic about it but he talks like a kid. Nevertheless, he hands you a delivery card, sure enough it’s one of yours and filled out properly, and goes on his way.

New Canterlot? That was at least a three day journey there and back. No way you were sending a delivery boy on that kind of errand, it would be too expensive. And the flowers probably wouldn’t survive the trip without proper care.

You roll your eyes, that meant you were going to the big city. But how had someone from the big city gotten the business card anyways? You weren’t sure. You haven’t necessarily seen anyone take a card from the “Order ahead of time!” stack in a while. To be fair, you hadn’t paid much attention to it since it was normally behind the azaleas. A customer could have walked through and picked one up without your knowing.

But out of all the major cities, why did it have to be New Canterlot?

“Shop, head home.”

~~~

“Are you sure you’ll be ok? New Canterlot is, well, it’s not a great place,” your wife consoles you as you pack in some special water bottles into the travel bag. “I’ve been there once for business, I’d much rather get fired than go back.”

“That bad, huh?” You can’t deny you haven’t heard the rumors about the place, but you know better than to judge by word of mouth alone. Although, from what you hear in every single rumor, Discord commonly resides there in a big central tower. You had seen Discord in the flesh once as he flew overhead. His very presence distorted space around him and his tail was near constantly snapping, changing things for the worse as he went.

Suburb life wasn’t so bad, you were away from most of the chaos; rural areas might actually be peaceful from time to time.

“Really, we’ll just pay some young mare or colt to go there for us, you don’t need to go.”

You explain once more how the order would be wilted by the time you got there. If you had one of the light orbs, it’d be a different story. But you don’t.

She gives you a longing look like she really doesn’t want you to go. She blinks out a tear and gives that understanding smile you love. “Ok, but please be careful. I swear if you return home something other than what you are right now…” she doesn’t finish the thought.

You get what she means though. Ponies who went to the city were occasionally inverted in their personalities as a means of entertainment for the master of chaos. Only a few, a very select few, ever turned themselves back to normal and they were nowhere close to cities. The idea of finding a delivery boy sounded more and more plausible.

But you knew that even with the best of instructions, the flowers would still be drooping by the time you got there without your special attention. You had a name to uphold that was synonymous with quality.

“I promise, I won’t.” You stare right into her eyes. “I mean it.” You check your wrist watch. “Ok, I’ll be going.” You stand at the doorway to your bedroom and look back. “And I’ll come back, just like this: Pink, brown mane, watering can cutie mark with the rainbow drop coming out of it, and no Discordiant Transfer about.” You sling the travel bag over your back.

She nods.

You take a step through the door and portal to the front of your house. You sigh. “…I hope.”

~~~

The train is on time, surprisingly. It’s one of those “Old West” trains. No one really remembers why they’re called that, west isn’t even a direction anymore. It slows to a screeching halt on the tracks and puffs out a gigantic plume of smoke with a withering hiss. Small doors open outwards, signaling for the passengers to come aboard. You see through the windows that there isn’t anyone else on the train. With the bag of flowers in your mouth, you go to the second to last train car since only a few passengers are headed that way.

As you step through the door, a pony approaches you. He’s dark grey with a light grey mane and his eyes look heavy as if he hadn’t seen some sleep in a while. “Ticket.”

You fetch your ticket out of the bag and show it to him. With a deflated groan, he assures you forward to a seat and then goes to meet the next passenger. You presume that was one of the discorded ponies… not something you’d like to become. As you stuff your travel bag under your seat, the whistle blows.

“Attention passengers, this is your conductor speaking. Today’s train is headed for New Canterlot and will reach Roostville shortly afterwards. I encourage you to look out the windows to appreciate today’s view.”

You look to your left and see the open landscape. The hills are moving like the ocean and the sky is a brilliant green. The clouds were nurturing the land by fighting each other with knives, each one bleeding copious amounts of water as they were stabbed. One particular fight was escalating quite quickly, they’re already shooting lightning at one another. One pulls out a bazooka from literal nowhere and blasts the other out of the sky. It falls and creates a thin fog past the area for a minute and then disappears. Another contender in the sky takes its place and the process continues.

“My money’s on the dark grey one with the flail.”

Your body tenses. Slowly, you turn your head around out of shock.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” You see a stallion who looks somewhat like yourself but he’s yellow with a green mane. His hair is short and cropped upwards like grass and he’s leaning over the seat behind you like he’s not invading anyone’s personal space.

“Could you not be right in my ear when you say that?”

He backs off slightly and crosses his hooves as he rests on the top of the seat. “Sure thing. Name’s Meander, I’m a traveler.”

You politely introduce yourself and your business.

“Flowers huh? Not many ponies like you grow them nowadays, know that? Which means, if you have those there you must be…”

“Delivering them, yes,” you say more as-a-matter-of-fact than you intended.

“Well, good to see. Mind keeping me company?”

Besides a few good ponies and a certain changeling, you weren’t fond of company. But, you did realize the train ride might be a while and having an ally would increase your chances of avoiding the dangers of a train ride. You decide to smile away his imposing optimism and say yes.

The conductor’s voice comes over the intercoms once more. “Now departing. Please, fasten your seatbelts and equip the sound-cancelling headphones for those who don’t like today’s musical number. The music sheets can be found in the front pocket of the chair in front of you, please take five minutes to study the lyrics.”

You pull out a small white phamplet in the front and open it. Meander hovers over you and looks at it. The musical today was Discordia: Skipping Stones across a Night Sky.

Fun.

Author's Note

Musical trains? Oh goodness. Multiparter for this section as you explore New Canterlot. What surprises are in store? I mean, I know, but you don't.

Chapter Five: The Average Delivery Part 2

The song starts off softly as a violin and piano accompany each other in a slow crescendo, matching the steady incline the train is reaching.

As you’re rising, you take notice that the rails go up, but there’s no support under them, as if you and the train are virtually weightless. Two other trains from who knows where, one to your left and one to your right are rising up as well and soon are right beside you, chugging along at the exact same pace. Through the closest window, you can see the fellow passengers sharing the same sense of apprehension you were.

A faint echo is heard from the other two trains that matches your train, giving off a harmonious resonance. You were rising above the clouds now and the chords get lighter and lighter.

The grinding of gears softly pierces the song’s melody as the roof tops above you split themselves from the middle, creating a small gap line in the ceiling. They open completely, giving you a complete view of the sky. Just as you were about to marvel, they keep opening, taking the walls with them. The trains beside you do the exact same thing and the three locomotives soon attach to one another. The once-roof latches with the others and they rid themselves of their parabolic shape and create a flat surface.

Your wooden chair collapses and the materials it was made of move with a mind of their own, creating a wooden stage beneath you. Your flowers are dropped into a hidden compartment along with your luggage. You chose the least populated car to maximize your chances of them not being squished by other passenger’s things and you bless your own foresight. You’re now standing on a gigantic wooden platform in the middle of the air, chugging along through the sky.

A bell rings three times at a low tempo and despite the train no longer existing, the conductor’s voice takes over the song.
“♪Why hello, my little people, are we here for a riiiide? You are, I know, and who makes it I will deciiiiide! This is a game of matching me, something you best learn soon. Because if you fail you’re off the rail and you will go KA BOOM!♪”

Gigantic explosions sound off from beneath you and some of the fire manages to appear above the platform, filling the air with the smell of ash for a brief moment.

“♪So, Train A to Seaburg, are we ready to start the soooong?♪”

The ponies there stand in a straight line. “♪Of coooourse!♪”

“♪Train B to New Canterlot, are we ready to start the soooong?♪”

You take a deep breath as you stand in a perpendicular line to them. “♪You better believe it!♪” You almost went flat there… better be more careful.

“♪Train C to Hope Town?♪”

They stand in a straight line like Train A, making a rigid U shape. “♪Let’s get started!♪”

The conductor laughs manically and the very cackles excite the clouds below. All orchestral music ceases and the electric guitar takes its place with the start of one long chord.

“Very well, we shall now start song one of three: Pleading to Celestia”. The train ride starting off with soul music? This won’t be good.

There are three taps of a conductor’s wand against a wooden podium. The conductor coughs and says to begin.

Under a great big sky Under a great big sky

Oooooh

A cloud was a drift A cloud was a drift

Oooooh

And who was it And who was it (and who was it?)

Ahhhh

But our god of mischief But our god of mischief

O Sent to us from greyest stone O

O For years he was left alone O

O But one day under stupidity O

O A goddess of superfluity O

H Let him roam once again H

Dun... dun... dun dun dun dun!

All together now!
Once a folly, he had found
A thing called friendship
But when it bit the dust
He had enough of it

Cast the four princesses out
Like drunken men with empty stout
Never to be seen again

And now his rule is her only siiin
And we his people, prayed for salvation
From surely what was to be
our dev-asta-tion

But the goddess did not once return

Despite our pleas and daily yearns

And eventually we found

Our chaos god was here to stick around.

On one solemn day, in the year 2083 On one solemn day, in the year 2083

Oooooh

He met one crying little filly He met one crying little filly

Oooooh

She looked like a friend he once had She looked like a friend he once had

Oooooh

And for some reason he felt bad And for some reason he felt bad

Enough to make chaos sad?

Enough to make surfboarding not rad.

Dang!

She asked him why he was so mean She asked him why he was so mean
To take away the lands once green To take away the lands once green
And to her he said And to her he said

Solo singer...

“My child, chaos is freedom
A populace governed by order is treason
Power manifests where it can be supplied
So to the entire world I have denied
I know it sounds contrived, but this is for the best
Because now everyone is on the same footing
You can lay your head to rest.
Before my time of reign,
Ponies were discriminant
Fearing other races and each other was unfortunately imminent
But think of your friends, the changeling and the dragon
No pony in that time would dare to bandwagon… that.”

Once a folly, he had found (Oh he had found!)

A thing called friendship (Yes sir!)

But when it bit the dust

He had enough of it ('Nuff of that bit!)

He cast the four princesses out (Amen!)

Like drunken men with empty stout (Outta here!)

Never to be seen again (Bye girls!)

And now his rule is her only siiin

And we his people, prayed for salvation (Oh how'e prayed!)

From surely what was to be our devastation (De-heh-vesta-shuun!)

And from that day the child would preach (She did preach!)

That chaos wasn’t so hard to breach (Man she breach!)

She spread the lessons to the praying (And did she pray!)

And the audiences she seemed to be swaying (My mind is sway!)

And no more ponies were graying! (Hoo hoo yeah!)

All together now

The people began to adjust
And survival became our must
And adventure was daily lust

Tempo slows

And from that day, no longer did we pray
To a goddess of light, or her sister of night
For friendships were formed in the darkest of lands
And we stood together with hooves in our hands.

Tempo slows further, a few singers step away

Eveeentually over time
We all learned this sacred rhyme

Only three singers remain

“For we to survive, we must stand side by side,
And what truly counts is no longer hidden in the inside.”

The song echoes into the distance and the conductor claps once more. “Very nice work, I’m pleased. No trains will fall this round. Now then, onto song two: The meaning of friendship. Train B, this song is exclusively yours since you did the worst last round. Get ready!”

I used to know what friendship was.
Because…
I had a friend.
And we’d play what seemed like forever
And ever and ever
And it would never end.

But the fact of the matter is
Friendship… kind of sucks.
And here are the reasons
So sit like good little ducks.

Ooooh
Friendship means you need to share your heart
And act like you give a dang
And people aren’t always who you thought
And fights always end with a bang

Oh friends can be mean
And manipulative and cruel
And when they pass away
We only dedicate one day

Oh Friendship means you have to accept what they are
And be honest with them- and yourself too
Which teaches you false things about business and managing
All your taxes and your art!

Oh friendship means you have to sacrifice your life
Just in case your best bud
Forgot to do his math homework last night!

Oh friendship means you have to play it cool
With people you don’t really “get”
The kind of people who are rude and annoying
And listen to stuff you don’t “get”.

You can always choose to ignore them
But then you look like a jerk
Oh no one is going to hire someone
With that kind of resume for work!

(buh dah dum dum da dum dum de dum dum da dum dum dudud)

I used to know what friendship was
Because…
I had a friend.
And we’d play what seemed like forever
And ever and ever
And it would never end.
But the fact of the matter is
Friendship… kind of sucks.
And here are the reasons
So sit like good little ducks.

Friendship will poison your mind to make you she is fine
When she lies right to your face

Friendship will make it seem like it was all a dream
When the nightmare really arrives

It disillusions you to people, and makes you lose what you understand!
So have friendships sparingly, as walk across Discord’s land.

And let’s be honest…
Friendship can be fun.
It’s like using a power tool the right way
To get the whole job done.
Friendship is great, like finding a whole ten bucks
But never say we didn’t warn you…
That friendship really sucks!

“Wonderful, wonderful,” the conductor says with unbridled enthusiasm. You hadn’t noticed, but clouds had gathered from around and were now watching from the side lines and thunderclapping to your performance. “Now then, it’s time for the grand finale, a Free for All between the three trains.”

You shake your head in disbelief. A Free for All? How was that going to work? You had never heard of this kind of event on a train before. Was this something Discord had added recently?

“This activity shall work as such: each train shall send one contender to freely sing and battle against the opponents. Only two trains get to go to their destination, the losing train… you know. Your entire train ride is on his or her shoulders so pick carefully. Oh, and you have ten seconds to choose.”

Everybody in your line scrambles into one blob of people and huddle aroundone another. Ponies are pointing at ponies about who should sing, rapidly throwing accusations at one another. Thankfully, not one was thrown your was as the ponies knew about your occasional flat singing during the first song. Singing wasn’t your forte so you’re just happy knowing you had a chance at making it to New Canterlot on someone else’s vocals. Going KA BOOM was not on your agenda.

Meander gently pushes you aside to get to the center of the circle. “I’ll go, I ride trains all the time and I’m familiar with how this game works. In the eleven times I’ve done this, I only lost once and that was to Chingling.” His voice is confident and profound, it’s obvious to you he’s not making it up. It was certainly a difference in how he acted before.

You had once heard of Chingling, a minotaur with the voice of a rockstar, but as to how famous he was you weren’t sure.
Your team nods in unison, your fate was riding on Meander the traveler. He looks at you specifically and says, “don’t worry man, I’ll make sure you get those flowers there on time.”

He walks to the center and the clouds block out the sunlight except for one small ring above. He steps into it and the crowd disappears in the darkness, leaving only those two. You can hear them greeting one another and wishing them the best. Meander appears to say something witty, but you don’t catch it. It makes the other two laugh and give an aggressive, but not overly aggressive, retort. Fun is fun, but they mean business.

To the left of your new-found travel companion is a ash grey pegasus with a short, but drooping purple mane and to the right is a blue unicorn with a green mane. The unicorn is also wearing shades and has a small stubble on his chin.
And... you don’t get to hear much. The conductor puts a conic spell around the three of them, disallowing outside sound, perhaps to judge the three completely fairly.. From the looks of it, the word battle is intense. All you see is Train A dropping out early in the game and then the two face each other. They shake each other’s hooves and return to their respective train lines.

You really do wonder what happened that day and what they sung about.

The trains dislodge their floors from one another and they fold back together like a paper craft. You’re popped back into your seat as the wood moves back to its original form. You check under the seat and see the flowers are still in excellent condition. You pull out a water bottle from your travel bag and gently pour some on them just to make sure.

“See, told you,” Meander rightfully boasts while propped up on his seat.

“Good work, I appreciate it.”

“Yeah, but I feel s- BOOM- I feel sorry for that train.”

“Same. I always hated the feeling of exploding, it’s such a hassle to pull yourself back together.”

“Amen brother. I had to walk on three legs for a whole day…”

And your afternoon continues on like that as you two share chaotic stories over the long train ride…

Chapter Six: The Average Delivery Part 3

The train blows a huge plume of smoke and whistles as it shrieks to a stop. The steady pumping of the engine dies down and you hop off the cart with your flowers, still fresh and completely hydrated, and wave goodbye to Meander. You’re waving rather enthusiastically, as it may be a long time before you see him again. It’s funny how first impressions change when a guy saves your train by singing and exchanging stories with you. As it turned out, he was just a pony who enjoyed stories from others, as you should have expected from a traveler.

A few minutes later, the Old West train departs again and scales a ninety degree rail- with a corkscrew- and you’re left to your lonesome on the platform once more. You readjust your travel bag and turn around to the city.

The sign standing above the train station reading “New Canterlot” should have been enough, but perhaps your suburban life had left you unaware of the severity of the major cities. Even the sign looked unstable. There was a depiction of a pony waving at you… but the paint moved and its eyes followed you. Worse yet, as you stepped closer, it grinned. You take a few steps back and the smile fades away but the moment you’re in range, it returns.

All that’s separating you from the city is one large arch made of stone, the only way into the city itself. Looking to your left, there’s nothing out there but a blotchy sky with patches of color, moving around each other like a lava lamp. You hadn’t noticed the elevation either. You dare to walk to the edge of the platform and each step is placed with extreme caution. You peer over for a moment and you realize it’s like you’re in your own little bubble. There’s no ground, no wind, no clouds… maybe you would have noticed this if you weren’t talking so much to Meander.

Even the train tracks are gone.

You scuttle back to the center. There’s no one else left at the train station as if all the passengers had gone up and left immediately. Your body is urging you to do the same as if something unnatural is occurring. You exhale and frost comes out… but it’s warm.

It’s a steady walk and your eyes can’t help but watch the smile grow as you near the entrance. As you’re almost inside of the stone structure, the smile widens and you can see the teeth inside. The pony’s eyes have narrowed into pinpricks… the teeth are jagged.

You take in another deep breath and pull your flowers closer to you.

You venture inside. Each hoofstep inside the arch, apparently a tunnel, echoed lonely. It’s not so dark that you can’t see, but there’s an uncomfortable lack of lighting. You press onward faster, hoping to just reach the end of it. There’s a bright white light at the end. Your hooves clack loudly against the ground, faster and faster.

It doesn’t come any closer. No matter how fast you run, the tunnel’s end doesn’t arrive.

You begin panting and return to a slow walk.

“You ain’t gunna make it there like that,” a deep gruff voice speaks. He was clearly a smoker. “There’s a trick to this tunnel. Ponies who don’t make it tend to end up grey and it ain’t good.”

You turn around and there’s a tall, rounded out shape like an egg but with two feet wearing a trench coat and a hat that completely covers his face. Despite the coverage, two yellow slits for his eyes are there and they look happy. “Yah look new, so I’m gunna help you out. You just gotta do me a little favor.”

Normally, you’d hate accepting favors from such… a thing. But you were running slightly low on water and it was important to reach the destination with your cargo in pristine condition. You hesitantly reply, “And what did you have in mind?”

He chuckles. “It’s quite simple really, I just want that bag of yours. Surely a pony like you wouldn’t mind giving up such a simple thing to complete your journey.”

The bag? You could just carry the last three waters and the flowers in your mouth, it wouldn’t be-

“Hey, Discordant!” a new, oddly heroic voice shouts. “Stop picking on the weak!”

“You stay out of this, Escort Cism! I found it first.”

There’s a bright flash of light from seemingly nowhere and you suddenly find yourself outside of the tunnel, sitting on the ground on your bottom with your bag and flowers perfectly intact. There’s a purple unicorn in front of you with an odd shade of blue you can’t exactly pin point. Her mane is hanging down on one side to the bottom of her neck and it’s coiled up from there, hiding the extra length. “Are you ok?”

You shake your head and the sound of a cowbell rings out like a sound effect. “I think so. Thanks for, uh, whatever that was?” You pick yourself up and dust off your legs.

“No problem. As you might have heard, I’m Escort, Escort Cism.” She holds out her hoof and you meet it. “I’m sorry you had to go through with that so early in your visit, that was a Discordant.”

“One of those greyed ponies?”

“No, what you saw was concentrated chaos. They wreak all sorts of chaos on the unsuspecting. That one, from the looks of it, was going to take all of your belongings one by one with fake tricks like you were progressing through the tunnel.”

You look back and discover the Arch was only a few feet long.

“It’s not a good idea to travel alone here…” she says while looking over her shoulder. “Not when he’s in town.”

You don’t like the way she said that. “Who?”

“Discord.”

~~~

Your attention is divided between your impromptu tour guide and your surroundings. Maybe it was how none of anything made sense, even by chaotic standards. Everything just was… and wasn’t. Buildings moved through one another like morphing globs and came out perfectly unharmed but the moment they touched a living being, they collapsed. The roads weren’t much better off, like jump ropes in slow motion. Maybe unsurprisingly by this point, walking upside down wasn’t that jarring. Mostly because, due to the atmosphere, it was difficult to tell if you were standing up or down.

Your mind is swimming a bit as she guides you, occasionally ordering you to jump over vast gaps and reassuring you it’s fine. At one point you questioned how she knew her way through the mess. She shrugged it off.

The other citizens of the city don’t seem too disorderly. They move along, avoiding hazards like it’s second nature, and some occasionally wave when you make eye contact. She says not to wave back. You don’t.

“So, Escort, why are you-“

“Escorting you? You looked like you’d never make it. Now, this place?” She stops and points to her left. You follow and observe incomprehension in the distance. Why was there a gigantic lizard saying poetry about sharpies? And did that donut just abduct a pony with hands made of jelly? “This place is almost uninhabitable. A few ponies like me can deflect chaos magic for a few days while Discord’s here in the central towers but everyone else fled.”

She’s right, there was a natural disaster on the horizon every five seconds. But nothing acted like it was being effected. As you observe a tornado made out of the alphabet, Escort nudges you on the shoulder and points you further left. “That central set of towers there? The only things not effected by chaos? That’s where Discord is.”

It was a surprisingly stark contrast to everything else. Six tall, glistening white towers were floating slowly in a small circumference. They looked almost connected somewhere in the middle and at the top of each tower was a colored spec. The smooth surfaces of the rounded structures appeared to be the source of light.

“Do you know the legend of those towers?”

You shake your head.

“Those six towers represent a power that once controlled the land, the Elements of Harmony. They were in the shape of five necklaces and one tiara and supposedly had pure magic flowing through them, and each artifact had a user. When Discord over-threw the princesses, he captured the elements for himself and sentenced five of the six users to stone.”

“What about the last one?”

“Discord was a friend of one of the elements, if you can believe it. But she passed away and Discord, having lost his first friend, turned into the draconequues we know today. If she hadn’t of died, he wouldn’t be like this. But, we all know everyone meets their maker sooner or later. Her body has been preserved and it’s been said her tower is the most beautiful of them all. Watch out for this fire pit.”

You jump over the fire pit and onto the next side walk.

“It was apparently done out of an act of kindness.”

You think about how an eternal god of chaos couldn’t have come to terms with death by that point. As you swim up a waterfall and grab the zipline hanging at the top, you feel stumped. “So…”

“Him and death, right?”

“Are you a mind reader?”

She chuckles to herself, giving an embarrassed blush when she snorts. “I have to be to free people from Discordants.”

Fair enough.

“My theory is, the only ponies he actually knew were the princesses. Since they were immortal, and he was immortal, it just never crossed his mind that normal ponies aged. When you’re causing havoc and mayhem, it’s difficult to notice consistencies.

“Hey, we’re here. And yes, that is my job, freeing them.”

You look up at the small house. You deftly remove the address card from your travel bag and notice this isn’t even close to the place you needed to be. “And where is… here?”

“My house. You’ll want to stay the night, trust me.”

The owl flying out of her mailbox shares your skepticism as it perches on your shoulder. “Mind if I… don’t? I mean thanks for saving me and all, but I have an order to deliver today.”

She rolls her eyes like that was the dumbest thing you could have said. “Listen, the city isn’t like your little town. Things happen here. You could spontaneously combust one moment and then turn into lobster the next. My best friend accidentally turned into my favorite brand of cereal once.” She doesn’t finish the thought. “The only reason you haven’t done any of that is because of me. And, I’m tired. I’ll get you to your place tomorrow… promise.”

Author's Note

I'm honestly reluctant about the way I had done this chapter, hopefully the next one will make up for this suckfest. Hey, it happens when you write without an outline. Expect chaos, all of it.

All of it.