the marvelous fucktastic fuckventure of anon


                                            >”Anon, are you ready to sell, sell, sell!?”

                                            >You sigh a long sigh of annoyance and despair.

                                            “Never.”

                                            >This lobby music is neverending droning of the same four notes.

                                            >The stallion with his blazer adorned with several pins, supposedly of great importance, lets loose a hearty laugh, in between guffawing snorting and cackling intermittently.

                                            >You shift around trying to get comfortable on unfathomable, off turd colored love seat you’ve placed yourself on.

                                            >”Oh man, you crack me up sometimes, Anon. Seriously though, we gotta make SURE we secure this deal. It’s for the betterment of the company as a whole, that means…”

                                            >You can’t help but let another sigh escape into the open air.

                                            “Ugh, lemme guess, more wacky-“

                                            >”That’s riiight! Wacky-tie Wednesday, but for the whooole WEEK Anon!”

                                            >You scoff his way and turn your head away from him.

                                            >The stallion across the room from you seems to be highly interested in his periodical.

                                            >”C’mon, show some company pride Anon.”

                                            “You know just as well as I do that that place is sucking the life out of me.”

                                            >”Well you have a better job than most of the schmucks there. You’re practically at the top.”

                                            “Pffft yeah sure whatever you say. You’ve got one of the best jobs there, all you have to do is stand over my shoulders and make sure I’m filing paperwork like a good little typist monkey, you incorrigible fuck.”

                                            >”Woah, hey bud, no swears on company time alright? I get it, it’s a stressful day for you, but ya gotta relax. You know me, I wouldn’t be so cruel as to ‘look over your shoulder all day’ , I don’t micromanage.”

                                            “Whatever you say ‘Senior Advisor’ Banks Teller.” You accentuate with air quotes.”

                                            >”Using my full name, AND title? How respectful!”

                                            “Blow it out your-“

                                            >”Anonymous?” the clerk mare at the front desk rings out for you.

                                            “Is it time?” you practically groan.

                                            >These ‘marketing meetings’ are always bullshit, you just stand around the entire time looking like a jackass, making zero real impact on the problem at large.

                                            >You’re more of a set piece than an actual key player in the companies plans at large.

                                            >”Yes, the board will be seeing you now.” The little earth pony mare typing away on an over-sized typewriter monotonously states.

                                            >Another sigh escapes your lips and you trudge over to the big oaken doors.

                                            “Show time I guess…”


                                            ————

                                            “YOU KNOW WHAT?! FUCK THIS JOB, FUCK THE OFFICE, FUCK THE PAPERWORK! FUCK IT ALL. FUCK IT!”

                                            >”Mister Anonymous, you are aware this outburst will-“

                                            “I don’t give a flying figgity FUCK about what this outburst will do for my ‘credibility’ and ‘future with the company’. I am NOT selling literal ass and face to this fucking gay ass charade of a company.”

                                            >”We simply ask that you bear with the written legal aspects of the contract at hand for the company, all you must do is engage in coitus with Ms. Shy a selective few times , there should be nothing to be so upset about-”

                                            “Considering I don’t want to FUCK A HORSE, much less for a measly few bits a day, I think I am very much so content with losing this shit desk job. I don’t do any real marketing here, it’s me just suggesting things and those around me agreeing due to the decisions not REALLY being made because of my marketing performance. I don’t think I want to work for a place that’s quite literally selling me into sex slavery. Fuck off.”

                                            >With a clenched fist and a firm grip on your now loosening tie, your ‘betters’ scream out behind you as you head out the doors,

                                            >”IF YOU WALK OUT THAT DOOR, CONSIDER YOURSELF FIRED ANONYMOUS!”

                                            >You give ‘em the bird, even if they couldn’t possibly know what it means, it’s about the principle.

                                            >Before you can make it out the main office door, Banks follows closely, a stern look of confusion and obvious nervousness about him.

                                            “H-Heyyyy Anon buddy. You aren’t quitting on us now are you?”

                                            >Your silence and continuance of tie removal seems to give him the answer he needs.

                                            >”Come on. We can get you that raise you’ve been wanting for three months now. It’ll be great. Just stay with the company, and we can-“

                                            “Banks. Listen to me for a second here. I am done with this shit.” You utter placidly, maintaining your slow trudge out of the building.

                                            >”There’s no need to leave the company Anon! We need you-“

                                            “Need me? For what? To sell my body to the next willing paying customer? Screw you Banks.”

                                            >He chokes on his own words for a moment then turns away from you.


                                            >”I don’t blame you for wanting to leave okay. I get it.”

                                            >He sighs a long winded sigh of obvious stress and concern.

                                            >”We actually can’t maintain this company without you. You’re our main selling point, you get that right? Without you this sales marketing nonsense we’ve got…it’s nothing.”

                                            “I really don’t care.”

                                            >And with that you walk away from the only job you’ve known in Equestria.

                                            >And for some reason…it’s liberating.

                                            >Not knowing where to go, what to do, how to live.

                                            >None of it really matters.

                                            >The birds are chirping joyously around you, the sun beams down below and you can feel it’s rays individually coming into contact with your skin.

                                            >A somewhat serene sense of carefree addlement overtakes you as a torrent of thoughts fill your mind all at once.

                                            >All stressful to the average-joe, yet you feel no stress that should come with them.

                                            >Life doesn’t need to be so stressful.

                                            >As you observe the open sky you trudge along the path in front of you, feeling the weight of the world lifted from you, almost as if you’re floating and-

                                            >You faceplant into the ground at 90 mph and earn the yelp of a pony you tripped over.

                                            >Through the muffled ringing in your ears and constant pounding in your head you can make out the apologies of the off jean colored mare now rotating your head this way and that, examining your skull, probably for bumps or knots.

                                            >When the ringing dies down you can finally hear her frantically asking if you’re okay.

                                            >”OHMYCELESTIAAREYOUOKAY?IDIDN’TMEANTO-“

                                            “Hey. Relax, it takes a lot more than that to make me retarded.”

                                            >”Oh thank heavens.” She says before sighing a long winded sigh of relief.

                                            “Uh actually. I rescind my statement.”

                                            >”S-So you’re hurt?”

                                            “No, no, just a little dry humor.”

                                            >”Well it’s kinda funny. I guess.”

                                            >You chuckle dryly her way and lie on the pavement.

                                            >”W-What are you doing? I thought you said-“

                                            “I’m just lying here. Got nowhere to go, nowhere to be, nothing to do.”


                                            >She cocks a brow your way and you finally get a good look at her.

                                            >She adorns a violet bow, complimenting the same colored streak in her hair.

                                            >An earth pony, and her cutie mark from down on the ground looks like…a megaphone?

                                            >”You’re a pretty funny guy Anon.”

                                            “Heh. Thanks-“

                                            >Your eyes open wide and you glare at her with an unyielding intensity unlike any you could describe.

                                            “You don’t work for uh. Rhipaf and Co...right?” You finish raising a brow and steadily readying yourself to climb to your feet again.

                                            >”Ehehe...about that...” she trails off kicking at the path below her hooves.

                                            >Within an instant you’re back on your feet and ready to bolt and break free.

                                            >And more or less what actually happens is you stumble to your feet and keep glaring at the mare, contempt visible in your eyes.

                                            >”I uh. Just lost my job.”

                                            “Oh. Hey I just quit mine.” You say, lowering your defenses again.

                                            >She shows a relaxed smile spread from cheek to cheek and she can’t help but take a seat down on the pavement herself.

                                            >”Got nowhere to go. Nowhere to be.”

                                            >You plop yourself back down on your back and stare up at the sky.

                                            “Boy oh boy it’s finally good to feel free. “

                                            >She giggles and tugs at her bow tie a little bit.

                                            >”I dunno how I’m gonna make it this month. I lost my job and it doesn’t feel too bad to leave that awful marketing company-“

                                            “Amen to that.” You interrupt, giving her a very quickly returned hoof to fist bump.

                                            >”-I just don’t know how I’m gonna put bits on the table. I rented a loft in the high rise area of Manehattan just for this job. I don’t think I have enough savings to keep me afloat for more than a month either.”

                                            “I’m lucky I own a house, but I still don’t think I’ll be able to keep up with other expenses. I left a marketing company too and-“

                                            >”WAIT!” She practically yells, enthusiastically leaning into you.

                                            >”You’re a marketing sales rep right? Well you were anyways.”

                                            “Yeah and?”

                                            >”I happen to be a marketing contract broker.”

                                            >Confusion fills you and the mares evil grin isn’t making you feel any more confident in what ideas could be hatching inside her head right about now.

                                            “So?”

                                            >”I could score you a marketing deal contract Anon! An easy one and since it’s just you and me, we’ll make a boatload of bits from just a few jobs!”

                                            >Shes pitching another marketing job your way.

                                            >This time however, with the added benefit of not having to sell your body to a wannabe rapist.

                                            “It doesn’t sound like too bad of an idea. But I’m not really sur-“

                                            >”Come on! We could be business partners! I swear I’m really good at what I do Anon. I Pinkie promise I’ll do my best to get us a contract the first chance I get!”

                                            >Her overall enthusiasm penetrates your cold, hard exterior just a bit, and maybe gets the best of you.

                                            “So basically freelance marketing work. Goddammit. I’m in.”

                                            >You shake her hoof from the ground and with that, a deal is made.

                                            >”Great. So, I’ll go home, work on getting some contract requests typed up and we’ll wait for the dosh to come rolllling in.”

                                            “Sounds like a plan, partner.”

                                            >”Oh, right, I never introduced myself did I? My names Martka. Martka Teering.”

                                            “I just know it’ll be a pleasure working with you Martka.”

                                            >With that your new plans are set in stone.

                                            >Only hope lies in wait over the horizon now, visions of a better tomorrow.

                                            ————

                                            >You rush in through the front door, scrambling to comb your hair and use your hands to iron out small creases in your blazer.

                                            “God fucking dammit...” you whisper under your breath, mashing your hands harder into your coats breast flaps, trying to stick them flush to your body.

                                            >Jesus Christ.

                                            >That better tomorrow better be tomorrow.

                                            >All that’s come of not working is constant suffering.

                                            >A heavy sigh escapes your lips and you extinguish your cigarette in the ashtray on the desk in your room, and head into your living area.

                                            >The morning light peering into the open space would be almost poetically beautiful, if you didn’t feel like complete shit.

                                            >Martha’s still asleep on the sofa and you walk over to her and try to gently nudge her awake.

                                            >”Hrmmm...yeah some pancakes would be nice Mister Handsome Studwell...”

                                            >You roll your eyes and shake her a little harder.

                                            >”Oh Mister Studwell...you know how I love it when you’re rough with me..”

                                            >You recoil in disgust and give her a good smack to the face.

                                            >”I WASN’T ASLEEP ON THE JOB THINKING ABOUT A HANDSOME STALLION RAVAGING ME HAHAHA WHO WOULD HAVE SUCH AN EMBARRASSING DREAM.”

                                            >You purse your lips with your hands on your hips and start to walk towards the door.

                                            “I’ll be out, gonna go do some more odd jobs to get a few bits for dinner. ‘Kay?”

                                            >”I was gonna do the same. Just been a little tired. Working my hooves to the bone.”

                                            “No kidding.”

                                            >Her stomach grumbles and soon after yours does too.

                                            >”S-Sorry I got us into this hole Anon. Honest, I did my best. Nobody seemingly wants to hire...an ‘amateur marketing team’.”

                                            “I believe in you Martka. Trust me I do. Just keep doing your best and I’ll keep us fed for the time being. Anything you can contribute helps, alright? We’re partners. We’ve gotta be in this for one another.”

                                            >She sniffles and tears well up in the corners of her eyes.

                                            >”Y-Yeah. You’re right Anon. Thanks for the little pep talk.”

                                            >You nod her way and throw your coat on over your button up.

                                            “Another day. Another penny.”

                                            >She exhales from her nose with a smile on her face before wrapping herself with a nearby scarf.

                                            >As you pass through the door seal, you leave the door open, when she thanks you, you nod her way and she nods back, a smile plastered on her face, before you both take split paths, you on your way to Sweet Apple Acres.

                                            >At a brisk pace it only takes you a few minutes to make it to Aj’s and before long you spot the orange  mare in the distance, in front of her barn, waiting on your arrival presumably.

                                            >As you draw closer she takes notice of you and waved you on over.

                                            >”Mornin’ partner. And a mighty fine one if I do say so myself.”

                                            “Yeah. The sunrise was very nice today.”

                                            >”Darn straight it was.”

                                            >You begin to do your pre work stretches,  Applejack watching you all the while.

                                            >“ Say Anon, I gotta let ya’ know ahead of time. There ain’t much to be done today.”

                                            “...and?”

                                            >”Dense as ever aint’cha?” She playfully jabs.

                                            >You scoff at her , and stretch your lower back.

                                            “As pugnacious as ever aren’t ya?”

                                            >”Puggawhonow?”

                                            >You chuckle for a bit and she rolls her eyes your way while you finish up.

                                            “You said there’s not much to do today but what does that really mean. You know I’m good for the work-“

                                            >”Means we ain’t got work for ya. I tell ya what though, how about I just give you pay for today, and tomorrow if it suits your fancy. “

                                            >Two days worth pay...?

                                            >You can eat an actual meal for the first time in a long time.

                                            “P-Please that would be-“

                                            >You clear your throat and try to remain professional.

                                            “That would be most adequate.”

                                            >She leans down to her right and tosses a bag of bits your way.

                                            >”All yours sugar cube .”

                                            “Thank you so much Applejack I-“

                                            >She raises her hoof your way and shakes her head.

                                            >”None of that now. I know you’ve been having a hard time getting back into work. It’s no tan off my hide to give ya’ something ya’ need, ya’ certainly been working for it too.” She finishes with an eyebrow wiggle.

                                            “What-“

                                            >”When you’re working with your shirt off I can see how much more defined your muscles look from when you first decided to come on down. It’s kinda hard to not stare if I’m bein’ completely honest with ya’. Means ya’ been putting a lot of work in!”

                                            >In a moment worry and anxiety fill you and instinctively you want to book it.

                                            >Applejack notices how worried you’ve become, and offers you a kind smile in return.

                                            >”That’s a good thing, sugarcube. Just something to make note of. I like a little eye candy while I work. It’s nothin’ more than that. I swear on it.” She says smiling innocently.

                                            >Some sort of relief washes over you, but now you feel as you are inevitably going to become a lamb to the slaughter, knowing how mares are in Ponyville.

                                            “Well uh, I’m gonna get going now then.”

                                            >”Don’t be a stranger. If’n you’re hungry or anything come on back and I’ll have something ready for you in a jiffy.”

                                            “Thanks Aj. Really. It means a lot.”

                                            >”Anytime sugar cube.” She shouts out before you make your way halfway out the entrace of the acre.

                                            >Your brisk pace from once before returns and you’re speeding along towards the market, to grab a few groceries.

                                            >As you approach, you spot a familiar rose maned mare.

                                            >”Hiya Anon! What can I get for you today? Another penny loaf?” She asks beaming your way., unpleasantness audible in her voice

                                            “Tomatoes, faux meat, spaghetti noodles,basil, and cilantro.”

                                            >”Oh? Finally buying food to MAKE something this time?”

                                            >You just nod while she bags up your things.

                                            >”Will that be all?”

                                            “Actually...” you jingle the bag of bits, feeling for the weight of them roughly in your grubby little mitts.

                                            >She seems surprised by your newfound wealth and waits intently on your response.

                                            “Potatoes, some carrots, spinach, five bundles of hay...oh and make sure to give me a bouquet of flowers. Plenty of roses.”

                                            >She bags you up once again, and pushes two bags your way.

                                            >”28 bits.”

                                            >You reach down into your pay bag and slide the coins her way.

                                            >...to your own surprise there’s still more than enough bits in the bag to go around for a couple weeks, much less days.

                                            >You hardly make anything as it is there so there’s just no way you’ve got this much left.

                                            >”Thanks. Come back anytime. Long as you’ve got more bits than that one  time you begged me for rotten fruit.”

                                            “Look you know it’s been rough alright. I don’t have much to work with here.”

                                            >She shrugs and starts restocking her display baskets delicately, assuring not to damage her produce.

                                            >”I’m running a business you know. Five bits ain’t worth the fat off my-”

                                            “Yeah yeah yeah. whatever Roseluck. I’ll be back later.”

                                            >With gusto you whisk your groceries away to your home, a sense of pride filling you.

                                            >Finally,it feels like your hard work is paying off.

                                            >Martka is gonna be elated herself to be able to eat something more than a dandelion for dinner.

                                            >You toss everything into your spartan pantry, somewhat filling it with what feels like candy in a candy shop, and you being the child you are becoming more and more infatuated by the prospect of sweets.

                                            >However, a man who does not fish, does not eat.

                                            >Sugar Cube Corner awaits.

                                            >The stoves and dirty pans are calling your name.

                                            >Once you make it, Pinkie’s manning the front counter as usual.

                                            >”Hiya Nonny!”

                                            “Hey there Pinkie.”

                                            >”Are you ready for another super splendiferous fun filled pastry plating day? I can’t tell you how much of a blast it is working with you here with you! I’ve been having sooo much fun.”

                                            >You can’t help but smile a little while you step behind the counter, but not before tossing your coat onto the rack placed before the kitchens entrance.

                                            “Glad to hear it Pinkie. It’s always great working with you too.”

                                            >She cartwheels her way behind you while you tie up your smock.

                                            >”Today we don’t have any orders at all. Soooo it might be super slow.”

                                            “Now there’s something that sounds like music to my ears.”

                                            >”If you wanted music I could always-“

                                            “NONNONONNONO IT’S A TURN OF PHRASE PINKIE.”

                                            >She giggles and elbows you in the side.

                                            >”I’m just kidding Nonny, I know my musics a teensy little itty bit too much for you.”

                                            “Yeah you could say that.” You finish with a half hearted chuckle.

                                            >While you scrub the stoves top to bottom, no extra dishes are brought your way , and for once, you start to think that things could be easy for a while.

                                            >The easy life...

                                            >Something that hadn’t once crossed your mind in the last few months.

                                            >It’s been really hard for you and Martka, some days you don’t even eat.

                                            >She really has been trying her absolute best to score you a marketing contract, but to no real avail.

                                            >It’s fine cause you’ve got both your backs covered.

                                            >The day at Sugar Cube Corner goes by without a hitch, maybe a few pots and pans here and there, but mostly just slight work.