Never again, Trixie, never again. You’re staying on the main roads from now on. No more of that back-pack trekking. No! You don’t care how much you’ll save by avoiding the tolls. It’s. Not. Worth. It. A full week of hell, with that insufferable bastard! Ugh! And just when you think you would get some peace and quiet, he’d say that most annoying thing he could think and poof! Just like that, day ruined! And who writes on people’s things without telling them. I mean, look at this! ‘It suits you.’ Yeesh. What did he think was going to happen!? ‘Hey, I wrote on your cards a very vague message that may or may not contain any innuendo you didn’t ask for. Hurr hurr ain’t I charming?’ Gosh! And then he has the nerve, no, the gall to deny me my hard-earned bits. I might have even shared with him if he had just shut up! Gosh, I can’t believe I told him anything about myself! But that’s how he gets you! He lures you in with a false sense of security. He acts like he’s a friend and gets you to say something personal about yourself, but he’s really just taking in all the little details he can just to use it against you later.
Pffft. “It suits you…”
Easy, Trixie, you’re getting worked up over the little things again. That doesn’t bother us anymore remember? Focus on the big stuff. Focus on the positives. You’ve got a nice wagon now! You’re gonna have to repaint it if it’s going to be a proper trailer though. All this beige and brown is not gonna do If you ever plan on having any after parties in this thing.
“Dooh, do-dooh dooh dooh, Dooh, do-dooh dooh dooh.” Now what. Eh, It’s just an old guy. That’s a big bag he has, how’s he carrying that all on his own. It looks like it weighs more than the wagon!
“Hey, pops.”
“Yessa.”
“How are you carrying that.”
“Carry wha?”
“That bag.”
“Oh, jus’ do.”
“Just do, huh.”
“Yessa.”
He just keeps moving with that thing on his back.
“Hey.”
“Yessa.”
“Got any paint in there?”
“Sure do-dooh dooh dooh.”
“Willing to trade.”
“What ya got, missy?” I looked around the wagon but it was just filled with his junk. I looked at the two hunds pulling the wagon. Then back at the old man carrying that huge pack.
“I’ll trade you the hunds.”
He seemed taken aback.
“Ehrm...sure?” He pulled out some paint buckets and handed them to me. He looked confused. “Ehr...how ya gettin’ home there, missy?”
“I’ll just carry it.”
“Well are ya su-”
“Where’s the nearest town?”
“Ehr...keep headin’ east an’ you’ll hit Ponyville in a day’n’a’half minus today...”
Alright, Trixie. One. Two. Three. Lift! Huh? Not bad. “The Great and Powerful Trixie thanks you old-timer.”
“Ehr...yessa. Stay safe.”
Ponyville, eh? Might be a good chance to try out some new material. Maybe serenade them with my conquest on that mountain. Nah. No one's gonna care If I beat some nobody. Maybe I’ll embellish it a bit. Something bigger. Something scarier. Hmmm…