A/N: Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls of all ages, welcome one and all to the beginning of a story I've been developing for over three years now. Gee, that feels weird to say.


Chapter One: Ain't That A Kick In The Head

"Smell that glorious smog in the air, that cold and distant emotion that clouds over the ponies on the street, sweet Celestia! I just love the big city." A peach coated Earth pony with a blonde beehive mane exclaimed as she walked the Manehatten sidewalks beside her oldest friend, Pinkie Pie.

"You're excited for this trip for... All the wrong reasons, Sunny Side." Pinkie giggled. "So, you've been here more times than I have, where should we go tonight?" She asked.

"There's a place I kind of like down the block." Sunny Side replied. The sign glowed Duke's Tavern. A middle aged Unicorn stallion, Duke, stepped up onto the stage and spoke with a smooth, jazzy tone

"Alright folks, now for the moment you've all been waiting for: put your hooves for Manehattan's best swing duo, Mr. Chipper and Ivory Keys!" The stallion said as he backed up.

"Oh, I forgot about this guy. This should be good." Sunny Side chuckled. The two ponies stepped up to the stage, one a white earth pony mare with a black and white pixie cut mane and black tie stemming from a white collar, the other a bright red earth pony stallion with a slicked black mane and a black suit. The mare took her place at the piano and the stallion stepped up to the mic.

"Good evening fillies and gentlecolts." The stallion said in a sultry, baritone voice. "This little number goes out to the lonely hearts in the audience, hit it Ivory." He motioned to his partner. As the stallion began to sing, his voice rang out throughout the room with the same level of finesse and grace like a silk ribbon twirling majestically in the hold of a Gallopic Games contestant, but that wasn't enough to keep some jerk in the audience from sharing his thoughts on the singer.

"You suck!" He barked.

"Yeah?" Chipper stopped suddenly and looked at the heckler in a cold dead stare. "I'm impressed, when I saw you I figured a slack jawed mouth breather like yourself would have a hard time expressing what little thought they had into any verbal capacity whatsoever, a round of applause, fillies and gentlecolts." He gestured to the audience, who at his whim, applauded. "Now, get the fuck out of here before I have security drag you out by your tail, donkey breath."

"Listen to that!" Sunny whispered to her friend. "Voice like silk and a tongue like a knife. If colts were my thing, I tell you." She remarked.

"You've been a great audience." The stallion said. "Except of course, for the puce pelted dunce at table four." He added, a couple patrons chuckled at his blunt statement. "Thank you, goodnight." He said before resigning to the bar counter across the club. His second half of the duo remained at the piano, playing softly.

"I'll be right back." Pinkie said to her friend. "I've got to go to the little filly's room."

"Sure." She rolled her eyes with a smirk, seeing through her fib instantly. "I'm pretty sure Chipper's gay, after all I can tell that sort of thing. Good luck."

"I'm just going over to say good job!" She replied defensively. The mare pranced over happily to the stallion, looking down with a scowl at a napkin with a sketch done in it. "Excuse me, mister?" She asked the stallion, he looked up.

"What can I do for you?" He asked in a dry voice. His voice still ringing with the baritone crooner tone, yet not really sounding like he was in the mood for conversation.

"I just wanted to say you did a great job tonight! You sang magnificently!" She said happily to the colt, who returned the compliment with an arched eyebrow and a chuckle.

"Gee, thanks." He let out a forced, joyless chuckle. "It's so unexpected that I hear that, seeing as I didn't spend years taking singing lessons or something." He said sarcastically.

"You didn't? Wow! No training and you sound like that?" She said in awe, not getting the sarcasm. Chipper just looked at her with a confused expression.

"Yeah… sure. Look, if you like it feel free to buy a record." He shrugged. "Swing, Swang, Swung is the newest one. OK Crooner would have to be my personal favorite."

"I'll take that one!" She nodded with a smile. "How much?" She asked.

"Fifteen bits, I can sign it for you too if you like." He said.

"Absolutely!" She smiled giving him the money when he handed her the sleeve with the record album in it. "Sign please!"

"You've got it." He nodded as he signed the record's cover. "And who am I making this out to?"

"Pinkie Pie! That's with an "ie" not a "y"." She explained.

"I figured, here you go." He gave her the album. "Have a good night." He gave her a little salute.

"Goodnight!" Pinkie nodded going back to her table. Sunny Side saw the record she was holding and scoffed.

"Really? You actually bought one of those?" She asked.

"Yeah! Why not? He seemed friendly, so I supported him." Pinkie explained.

"He was being friendly for your bits, frosting head." Sunny Side said flatly.

"What? No!" She shook her head in disbelief.

"Yeah! He was." Sunny said. "Well, congrats, you just gave away fifteen bits for a crappy record."

"Everypony can have their own opinion." Pinkie said with closed eyes. As the two left the club, they both decided to part ways outside.

"Pinks, I'm gonna check on the kitchen shop down the street, meet you at the hotel." Sunny nodded as she said goodbye to her friend.

"See ya Sunny!" Pinkie waved as she said goodbye to her friend. Pinkie hummed along happily as she walked down the dimly lit streets. Up ahead, she saw a familiar pony, it was the singer from the club! "Hey! Mister Chipper!" She called running over, meanwhile, this singer was blushing nervously and stammering trying to reason with three stallions, bigger and meaner than him.

"Look Chipper, you promised the bits by Friday, and what is today?" One of the stallions said, with a mobster like presence.

"Fr- Fri- Friday…" Chipper stammered.

"So where's the bits?" Another pony asked.

"About that, funny story, I don't exactly have them yet." Chipper said, chuckling nervously.

"Chipper, Chipper Chipper Chipper…" The third one said. "We like you, we like you more than we liked your old stallion, but listen, you owe us. You owe us big…" Before he could continue, Pinkie ran up.

"Hi Mister Chipper! So my friend Sunny told me that you were only nice to me because you wanted my bits and then I paid you and you won't be nice to me anymore, but I don't think that's true! Who are these ponies? Your friends?" Pinkie asked.

"Call me Chuck." The artist formerly known as Mr. Chipper said to her.

"Hey Chipper, who's this? A lady friend?" One of the mobsters asked.

"No. Just a fan." Chuck told them. "Listen, Twinkie Fly, now's... really not the time."

"It's Pinkie Pie." Pinkie said.

"Right, right of course." Chuck said.

"Excuse me, doll-face. We were just in the middle of talking to our buddy here, you mind giving us a minute?" One mobster asked.

"Sure! See you later!" Pinkie nodded hopping away, Chuck gulped. He was screwed. Two of them grabbed his front legs and drug him into the alley. What's next would be the event that changed Chuck's life forever, in a way that seemed bad, but just may flower into something good. Getting the everlasting tar beaten out of him. The three mob ponies beat him, kicked him, leaving cuts and bruises all over him.

"You have until next Friday. Final warning." The tallest mobster said as he spat on him. The three left the alley, leaving him moaning in pain. Pinkie, still being nearby heard this and ran over.

"Everything okay in here?" She asked walking in the alley.

"Get me to a hospital…" Chuck coughed, a pool of phlegm mixed with blood spitting up as he coughed.

"Oh my goodness!" Pinkie remarked in shock, picking up the partially unconscious Chuck and looking at the wounds, he looked pretty bad. "What happened?"

"I'm sure even someone the likes of you could clue into this by now, but just in case you're more dense than you've already come across as, those guys aren't my friends, now I need medical attention!" Chuck snapped, trying to stand and quickly fell down hard. "Now..." He sputtered weakly. She grabbed his unconscious body and flagged down a taxi pony.

"Get me to the closest hospital now!" She exclaimed. "Um, please."

"Sure thing." The cab pony nodded.


"You should consider yourself very lucky, Mister Chipper." The doctor pony in the room said as Chuck came to in the morning. "You would've bled out had you been brought here much later."

"What happened?" Chuck asked, looking around.

"What happened is you got yet another chance at life son." The doctor chuckled. "Speaking of which, there's somepony here who wants to see you."

"Probably Ivory." Chuck thought. "I should have been at practice an hour ago." But it was not Ivory, it was the mare who bought the record from him that night. She ran up to his bedside with a worried look on her face. Clearly she was waiting at the hospital waiting room for the night.

"Are you okay? The doctors told me you'd be fine but you can never be too sure! You looked really bad last night!" She remarked.

"Listen if I'm being honest, everything after I left the bar last night is a blur, did we see each other afterwards?" He asked.

"Yeah!" Pinkie nodded.

"Well... how was I? And what'd we do that made me wind up here?" He asked, a slight grin on his face. Pinkie grew a repulsed face realizing what he meant and shook her head.

"Not like that!" She exclaimed, a tinge of disgust in her tone. "I saw you on the street talking to some ponies who I thought were your friends, boy was I wrong!" She exclaimed. "Either that or you and your friends have a weird friendship." She then cocked her head at the pony, he looked different than the night before. "Hey..." She remarked, a large auburn mane flowing with curls sat atop his head, but his mane was short and black the night before.

"What? No... no no no!" The crooner stammered. "Where is it? Where's my bow tie?" He looked about, then felt the top of his head. "Oh c'mon, where's my wig!?" He gasped. "I thought I told that damn nurse that the wig was not to be removed when I wind up in the hospital." He grumbled.

"Does that... happen a lot?" Pinkie asked.

"D'ah well... not a lot, about the same amount of time anyone else my age goes to the hospital, two or three times a month." He replied.

"Two or three times a month!?" Pinkie exclaimed.

"Sure, it's a regular thing." He shrugged. "Now, where's my stuff!?"

"It's all by your bed, deary." A nurse passing by informed him.

"I'll get that for you!" Pinkie offered to him, much to his protesting, she went to the box by his bed and then looked at the label. "Your name is... your name is?" Chipper cut her off before she could say his real name aloud.

"Chuck Chipper. That's my name. Kapish?" Chuck spoke the name he preferred to be called. impatient with her already. "Listen, I'm okay, I'm alright. You... you can go." He said.

"Oh, okay then." Pinkie nodded. "Bye!" She waved, leaving the hospital room. Chuck grumbled and started to climb out of the bed, ready to check himself out as he did almost out of routine at this point.

"Mr. Chipper." A nurse nodded respectfully as the club singer walked through the halls, placing his personal items back onto his red fur clad body as he walked.

"Mr. Chipper." Another nurse nodded at him, he nodded to her back with a little grin.

"Hey, Mr. Chipper." A third nurse nodded before he gave him with a smirk and a wink. Yeah, Chuck was popular among the nurses for reasons that are probably obvious. He stepped into the lobby of the hospital and went for the door.

"Just put this trip on my tab." He called to the lobby receptionist.

"Mr. Chipper! Wait!" A doctor, the same doctor that was there when he woke up called for him, the crooner turned around to face the doctor. "Chipper, listen." He said, having caught up with him. "You can't keep living like this."

"I don't intend on it, pal. I'm hoping Slick's gang does enough to take me to the big ol' apple orchard in the sky next time." He replied with a coy grin, the doctor couldn't tell if he was serious.

"Chuck," he said, a serious expression on his visage. "This isn't healthy, what you need to do is try to clear your debts in some way or another and settle down, meet somepony, somepony like that mare who brought you in, somepony, anypony to keep you from dying in your thirties."

"Hey!" Chuck quickly cut him off. "I'm twenty five, that's what we agreed on."

"You say you are, yet according to your birth certificate you're thirty seven." The doctor droned. "You don't have to take my advice, there's no way I can make you since what you need is something I can't prescribe, but at least give my words a little thought, okay?" He pleaded. "I like you a lot and would hate to see you go."

"I'll do my best." The crooner replied with a coy expression. "No guarantees." He said, turning his back. "If I ain't here again next Friday, I'm either dead or I'm considering your advice." He said, walking off. "Slick's pissed enough at me that he'll kill me regardless of my lifestyle." He sighed. "What am I gonna do?" He bemoaned as he walked down the busy sidewalks.

Before he had any time to bemoan, he was tackled by a pink blur, a pink blur that revealed itself to be the mare from the night before and this morning. Why could he not shake her? She was like a leech!

"Hi! You're out of the hospital, glad you're feeling better! I see you put your wig back on, that's a shame, I like your normal mane!" She started jabbering on and on while he tried to wriggle free.

"I'm not in great health still, I would appreciate you not tackling me." He sputtered, eventually her grip loosened and he got free. He scoffed and brushed his suit clean. "I'll thank you to never tackle me again."

"You don't have to worry about that, I'm going back home to Ponyville today." She told him.

"Too bad. So sad." He thought, but then, he took on her words, and it gave him an idea. "Ponyville? Where's that?"

"Oh, it's pretty far. Six hours by train, southwest I think. You should come visit sometime!" She exclaimed.

"I just may." He grinned slyly. "I just may." He chuckled as he went his own way, believing his newfound plan to be utter brilliance. Ponyville was a town he'd never even heard about. If he were lucky, he just may be able to hide out there, for how long he didn't know, but hiding out would be a better alternative to getting his hooves cemented and tossed in the harbor, which was what he knew would happen if he stayed here.


"You're... moving?" His partner in music, crime, and just about everything else in life except for romance (putting aside one Hearth's Warming party they agreed not to bring up. And even then what transpired was hardly romantic), Ivory Keys remarked dumbfoundedly as he presented her with his plan later that day.

"Yep." He nodded proudly. "And you're coming with me."

"Aheh, Chip, you're a funny guy. I always thought you could do comedy maybe even better than music... wait, you're serious?" Ivory asked.

"Of course I'm serious. I don't vocalize ideas that I'm not serious about. Complete waste of time." Chuck replied.

"Chip, there's no way I'm moving to some rinky dink hick town miles away, purely because it's your last ditch attempt to prolong your inevitable death by mafia hitmen." She said bluntly. "What would you even need me for anyway?"

"Someone to keep me sane, dammit." Chuck replied. "If this one dame is any indication, I'm moving into a town of crazies."

"Heh, you'll fit right in if you really think this plan will work." Ivory snickered.

"So that's it, huh? You're gonna work a solo gig?" Chuck arched his brow. "Leave your old buddy Chip all by his lonesome to live out his days hiding out like an average nobody? Live out the rest of my life like a shnook?"

"Don't play the moral high ground with me, Red." Ivory scoffed. "Maybe I would go solo, I could make a killing, you don't know."

"Ivory, Ivory Keys, my oldest and dearest friend, you know I'm not a begging stallion, but I beg this of you." He grabbed one of her hooves. "Come with me." He pleaded. "I already bought train tickets, housing is more than affordable, what do you have to lose?"

"My mind." She replied. "After all, somepony has to do the thinking between the two of us, and you're clearly off your rocker." She sighed. "Then again... You do make up one hundred percent of the ponies I care to interact with, and I have no interest in opening up to anypony else at this point... no sense starting over." She deduced. "Let me pack my things, once you're set up in town, write me."

"Oh, Ives, you're the best." Chuck beamed, slugging her shoulder. "I love ya."

"You're lucky you're my best friend, y'know... otherwise I'd have just about as much patience for your audacity as everypony else who knows you." Ivory grumbled.


Chuck ran his hoof through the black hairs of his wig, inhaling and exhaling a peppy breath to assure himself everything was going to be okay in this town. This, quiet, quaint little town where nothing remarkable ever happened. Hopefully that's what he had gotten into, that's what all the cottage listings in the newspapers said to promote living there, anyway. Certainly not a selling point as far as Chuck was concerned, but given the circumstances it was a practical fit. He closed his eyes as he felt his train come to a stop, and it was time for him to get off.

He stepped off the train platform and walked into the bustling town, just as he had hoped he seemed to just meld in. The last thing he was really in the mood for was unwanted attention from anypony. Then, a thought occurred to him. Chip, relax. You're getting worked up o'er nothing. Look at this place! Look at those you see around you, not one of these yokels has as much sophistication in their whole body as you and your closer confidantes have in merely the base of your tails! Surely, my friend, you'd be foolish to even think about the mere possibility of hearing the name-

"Mister Chipper?" He suddenly heard from a voice he didn't recognize.

Dammit.

He turned and looked at the source of the voice. It was someone who clearly recognized him. She was a light pink coated unicorn mare with lint covered brown and yellow striped scarf wrapped around her neck. Her mane was unruly and matted, possibly a few shades darker brown than it was supposed to be, based on her appearance she certainly had been neglecting to clean it after all. To top this ensemble off, over her jade green eyes sat a pair of quite large, circular, red glasses.

"Do I know you?" Chuck arched his brow.

"No, but I'm such a big fan of your work!" The eccentric looking mare exclaimed, rushing over to him sans any invitation from Chuck. "I just love your music!" She gushed over him. "Where are my manners?" She suddenly stopped herself.

Ah, you're a little more self aware than you let on to be. Chuck thought.

"My name is Oddity, Oddity Trinkets." She extended her hoof to him, which he declined without even the slightest glance to the hoof, instead opting to make a cold, unfriendly stare into her eyes, perhaps she'd take the hint.

"That's nice." He nodded somewhat politely. "Listen, Knick-Knacks, point me in the direction of the neighborhoods, I'm looking for property."

"Ooh, investing in real estate?" She asked. "Neighborhoods are just that way, if you like I could come with you?"

"No." He quickly replied. "Eh, no... thank you." He corrected himself. "Knick-Knacks, I've had a hell of a day, and I would appreciate it if some social distancing was being put into practice here, y'know?' He asked.

"Huh?" She asked. It was at this point Chuck's patience had diminished completely.

"Let me put this in a language you can understand." He said. "I don't want your company, you dirty hippie!" He barked at the mare before leaving. Maybe he had lost a fan, but she was not the audience he had ever wanted to attract anyway.

"This dirt water town had better have half decent dry cleaning, thanks to that mare my jacket reeks of incense and... dear lord, my old friend purple haze." He grumbled as he walked. Not a second after he finished that sentence, he found himself tackled, this seemed to have become a trend. A blur of pink had collided with him, sending him and the pink blur bouncing along the road, skidding to a stop about four yards from where they had initially collided.

"Wow! I had a feeling I'd see you again but I didn't know it would be so soon!" Pinkie Pie exclaimed. Looking down at him from where he lay on the dirt road.

"You come around like a bad habit, don't you?" Chuck coughed. "It bewilders me that I have to tell you this twice, but don't tackle ponies who've recently spent the night in intensive care." He grumbled as he stood up and brushed himself off. "Brilliant. I've not been here five minutes and I've already been mauled by a hippie and have had my jacket ruined by a strike of pink lightning."

"Ooh! Pink Lightning! That was going to be my pro wrestler name, wanna see what my big finisher would be?" Pinkie asked.

"You must not know me at all if you think I would answer with anything that wasn't 'no'." He replied flatly. "Listen, I'm just here to buy a summer home." He said, rubbing his temples tiredly. Part of him knew however that if he were to shake her, he'd have to humor her a bit. "After I pick a place out, what do you say you and I get together for a drink? I'm sure if this town has anything it would be some sort of saloon or tavern."

"Barstool's Tavern!" She exclaimed. "It's right down the street from Sugarcube Corner." She told him. "Big tavern shaped like a giant wooden barrel, you can't miss it!" She told him.

"No matter how one would try if it's anywhere near as kitschy as you make it sound." He muttered. "Sounds delightful." He replied aloud. "I'll meet you there for drinks. On me."

"Aww! So generous!" Pinkie slugged his shoulder. "See you then!" She said, bouncing along back on her way.

"What a fruitcake." Chuck scoffed as he watched her hop away. "Ivory can't get here soon enough." He moaned before walking to the nearest cottage with a 'for sale' sign on it, and within the hour, the club singer had purchased his house. Spending money you don't have is very easy.


"Barstool's Tavern?" Chuck read aloud as he looked at the sign on the bar roughly an hour later. "I tend to avoid establishments with stool in the title, but as my my great uncle Al Capony used to say: 'hooch is hooch is hooch is hooch'." He concluded as he stepped inside.

It was kind of a dingy place, it looked like it may have been nice at a time, but that time was long ago. The lightbulbs would flicker, dust covered everything, and the place smelled like grandma's house, you know the smell. Behind the bar stood two bored Earth ponies, a tall and slender stallion with a light orange pelt and big curly brown mane wearing a lime Hawaiian shirt, and a shorter, heftier earth pony stallion with a tan pelt, mane and tail varying shades of gray, and a blue golf shirt.

"Hey Stout, I'll take a White Pegasus, Rum and soda, and a straight shot of whatever you two claim your best bourbon is." Chipper looked to the bartender. "I'll pay for whichever one I end up liking most."

"A White Pegasus?" The stocky, earth pony bartender asked in a nasally voice. "Sir, this is a bar. We serve drinks here."

"This is going to be harder than I thought." Chuck rolled his eyes as he hopped over the bar and started gathering bottles like he owned the place, much to the stouter one's chagrin. "Gather around Stout, Legs, I'm going to teach you two how to run a real bar." He said, mixing liquids into different glasses at a lightning speed as if he were born to bar tend. "White Pegasus for Legs, and an Old Fashioned for Stout here." He slid the drinks before them.

"My name is Quibble." The pony he had been referring to as Stout corrected him.

"Too long; didn't listen. Drink up." Chuck instructed. The two slugged back their drinks and looked at the stallion as if they had opened up a totally new world for them. Chuck wasn't surprised to see how much two relatively mundane cocktails had blown the minds of these two simpler folk, because sometimes those vain assumptions we make turn out to be right, that doesn't mean we're right for making them, but you shoot enough in the dark you're bound to hit something.

"Who... are you?" 'Legs' asked.

"Just a big city cat looking for change of pace." Chuck shrugged. "So, let's get down to brass tacks. You two aren't great when it comes to running a bar, are you?"

"No." Quibble admitted.

"So, how about I take over here for you, run the bar, and in return I give you lessons on how to turn this... What's the word I'm searching for... this kitschy little watering hole into the swinginest place in town." Chuck offered.

"I'm signing over my half!" 'Legs' exclaimed with a nod.

"I... I guess..." Quibble shrugged. "We still get jobs, right?"

"Of course, boys." Chuck grinned widely. "What's a club without it's waitstaff? The two of you ain't going anywhere."

"Three." Quibble corrected. "This tavern used to belong to-"

"Yes, yes, Barstool. I saw on the sign. I'd like to meet with the old chap, finalize my claim to the building. He can stay on too, cushy supervisor job par chance." Chuck nodded.

"He's dead." Quibble said flatly. "He gave two halves of the bar to Cheese Sandwich and I." He pointed to his friend who Chuck had been calling 'legs'. "He made us promise that we'd keep his only son on as a waiter."

"Very well," Chuck nodded. "Where is the old sport?" Quibble grinned a little as he looked to his friend. A sly little chuckle escaping his lips as he looked at the straight and narrow city cat that had strode in here like he owned the place, though granted he now technically did.

"Hey Spud!" Quibble called. "We've got somepony here to see you." He called to the separate room of booths that was separated by a short hallway. What proceeded was the sound of hooves coming toward them that hit the floor with such weight and intensity that to Chuck it felt as though an earthquake had begun. A large white figure came from the doorway. It appeared to be a Clydesdale if he had to guess. His coat was white and he had a puffy orange mane and beard to match, just barely fitting across his massive shoulders was a green vest. Chuck's eyelids twitched ever so slightly, being of a larger by most pony's standards bone stature made him feel a bit timid whenever he encountered the rare few specimen bigger than him. Chuck inhaled a deep breath and looked to the large pony, beginning to speak.

"Spud, is it?" He asked. "Is that short for anything at all? Spudrick? Spudley perhaps?" He asked. The big pony just blinked. "Kind of a low watt bulb, huh?" Chuck remarked. "Listen Spud, it's a pleasure to meet you." He said, stepping up to him. "I look forward to getting to know you better as one of my employees, perhaps this introduction is the start of what many years from now we will look back upon to be a beautiful... acquaintanceship." He concluded, extending his hoof.

"Uhhh." Spud remarked, clearly quite confused. "Who's this guy?"

"Spud, this is Chuck Chipper, he's a pompous, arrogant, white collar city cat who strode in here like Don Moneybags himself, used a few cheap bar tricks and a silver tongue to just take the place over, and he's looking to be your new friend." Quibble grinned slyly.

"New friend?" Spud asked. Quibble nodded. He looked down at Chuck, and a giant smile spread across his face. "New friend!" He grabbed his hoof and started to shake it with a force that Chuck was sure would rip his leg right off. That, however, was just the beginning, before long, Chuck found himself being swung in a circle like a helpless rag doll while this behemoth chanted that he had a new friend.

"Let... go of me you... big... ruffian!" Chuck growled, prying himself free of his grip, this was a poor choice on his part, as now he had been flung across the room, he crashed into the wall with a loud smack, and knocked a few framed photos to the floor as he peeled off the wall. He murmured and moaned in pain, legs shaking as he climbed to his hooves, only to have the front door slam him into the wall.

"Hey boys!" Pinkie smiled as she stepped in through the door, looking around for her supposed new friend. "Aww, I thought he'd be here by now." She remarked.

"Who?" Cheese Sandwich asked.

"He calls himself Chuck, it's not his name, but that's what he calls himself." She explained. "Red earth pony, has a fancy suitcoat, kind of walks around with his nose in the air?"

"You don't think she's talking about our new boss, is she?" Cheese Sandwich asked Quibble.

"There's absolutely no way she isn't talking about him." Quibble replied. "He's just... uh... behind the door." He said as Chuck began to mutter and swear from behind the door.

"I've yet to even regain my faculties from the act of terrorism that was inflicted upon my body the night before, why oh why must this day be filled with more abuse than my body has ever taken in all it's years?" Chuck bemoaned dramatically from between the door and the wall. "Listen, doll," he slurred as he squeezed himself out from behind the door and stumbled over to the bar. "I just bought a house today, couple that with the fact this here is my business as of a couple minutes ago and it just doesn't make sense that I'd be buying our drinks, would it?"

"That makes sense to me." Pinkie couldn't help but nod.

"I cannot believe this guy." Quibble couldn't help but remark at this new fellow. "You're a lame backstory away from being an actual villain, aren't you?" Quibble asked Chuck.

"Stout, my boy, nobody who pays their taxes is a villain, the real villains are the ones we pay taxes to and those our taxes go to support." Chuck replied. "Now, I will take a Gin and Tonic si vous plait, and make sure when you're ringing this lovely dame here up for our drinks you give her my discount." He said with a sly grin.

"Wow! You're so generous." Pinkie remarked with a smile at her new friend. Quibble just rolled his eyes.

"I know, darling, I know." Chuck just grinned.

"Unbelievable." Quibble groused.

Chuck snickered as he looked at the sour face of his new employee, all in all the shnook life didn't seem too bad at this point, he'd probably never learn to enjoy it, but could definitely see himself learning to stand it.


Chuck's a real ass, isn't he?

Thank you very much for reading if you've come this far, I've been conceptualizing this story for a couple years now and am quite glad to have finally published the first chapter, please follow for more, until next time my friends!