Stupid. It was all so stupid. Clarabelle was being a gigantic baby. She was crying, and crying and crying…all over a stupid joke. Clara and Larkspur were partnered to hatch a chicken egg as one of the first science experiments of the year. Larkspur quickly realized the egg was rotten, but the smell was too faint for anybody but him to detect it. Clarabelle would have naturally thought her egg to be perfectly healthy and alive, so he had the hilarious idea to just eat the egg in front of her. Her reaction was just as he predicted, delightfully distraught. But, yet again, the punishment for her overreaction was far worse than he deserved.
 

 
The cheery bell rang through the halls, announcing the end of class. Students poured into the hallways, some running, toward the mess hall. Lunch had started and chaos ensued.
 
“Get ready ye fekken baw bags,” slurred the highly talented but morally questionable chef. Hailing from the Equestrian Highlands, the extra hairy unicorn stallion always had a full flask and a mouth full of exotic insults. Everyone knew him as Scraps, thanks to his uncanny ability to throw together garbage food and transform it into a delicious, filling meal. Today the students were to be greeted with kitchen sink cookies, coleslaw and loaded mac n’ cheese. The delectable and homey smell is what made the students run, because Scraps and his crew of delinquent students had done it again.
 
The students stormed the mess hall by the dozens, and Scraps watched cautiously as they quite literally attacked the food he had laid out for them. “Fekken pegs, the lot ‘o ‘em…” He then turned to his own students, yelling, “What a’ ‘ye standin’ round fer? Go awa’ n bile your head!” Of course they yelped and scrambled away to have lunch.
 
Scraps began wiping his hooves off with a wash towel when he heard the kitchen door squeak open. He let out a loud sigh, and turned to yell at whoever dared entered his kitchen, but the words froze on his tongue when he saw who it was, “A-Ah Twilight Spa’kle! Soch a pleasure to see you!” He flushed red, “How can’i halp you?”
 
Twilight smiled sweetly, “Hello Mr. Watergaw- “
 
“Ah, ples, coll me Scrahps.” He returned a nervous smile, unsure of what to do with his hooves.
 
“Of course, Scraps.” She placed a hoof on his shoulder, “I need to ask you a huge favor.”
 
“Enythin’.” Scraps stared up at her, taking in her every word.
 
“I need you to accept a new student onto your crew…” She stepped aside, revealing Larkspur not far behind her slumped against the wall of the kitchen with a huff and a lit cigarette in his teeth.
 
He sneered at the dwarfish unicorn. “The fuck are you looking at, stubby? Don’t you have a bridge to live under?”
 
Scraps’ relaxed demeanor vanished like a puff of smoke, replaced by his usual screaming rage. “Who the FEK es thes?”
 
“Larkspur…he needs a little more…assertive guidance.” Twilight spoke gently, but whispered so only Scraps could hear, “Don’t hold back.”
 
“You can bet yer arse he’s not ghenna get away with moch in miy kitchen, I’ll promes you that, meh Lady. Conseder et done.” Scraps marched over to Larkspur, who towered over him like a snake about to strike. Scraps slapped the cigarette out of Lark’s mouth. The kid sputtered with rage and confusion, “What that fuck~~?!” Scraps wrapped Larkspur’s beard in his magic and yanked his head down.
 
“Shut yer geggie! Let’s git one then stret, ye dirty bastard, ye will noht smoke in me fekken ketchen! Try that shet again and I’ll pehrsonally put ye through that fekken wall. I’ll have ye quertered and drohn ye fokken trollope if ye fekken cross me again!” Scraps pulled Lark’s face closer to his, “Do I mek meself clear?”
 
Larkspur let out a soft whisper, trembling in fear. “…y-yes..”
 
“I SEID, DO. I. MEK. MESELF. CLEAR?”
 
“YES SIR!” Larkspur squeaked, curling his tail about himself nervously.
 
“NOW GET IN THAT FEKKEN KETCHEN AND PEEL O’ HUNNER CARROTS FOR DENNER!!” Scraps shouted, releasing Larkspur from his magical grip. Larkspur flopped to the ground, but he quickly scrambled into the pantry, tail tucked.
 
Twilight smiled, “Let me know if he’s ever too much for you…” She slumped, “this is his last chance…try not to be too cruel.”
 
Scraps grinned, “Ah dohn’t ye worry. When I’hm dohn weth hem, he’ll be a better stallion yeht.”
 
Twilight let out a sigh of relief, brushing his shoulder with a soft wing. “Thank Celestia for you Scraps…you’re a life saver.”
 
Scraps’ froze at her touch, but was quick to shake it off, puff out his chest and proudly proclaim, “Ahh thenk nothin’ of et, me lady. Jus doin’ me civic duty.” He saluted her, face red, before she teleported out of the kitchen, presumably back to her office.
 
Scraps sighed, and walked back to check on Larkspur. He looked through the crack of the pantry door, and chuckled, seeing Lark struggling with the carrot peeler. He could see his paws shaking.
 
Scraps smiled and returned to watch his happy students enjoying his food, admiring a hard day’s work.
 
———————————————————————————————————————————————————–~~
 
Larkspur’s paws were blistered from the shitty peeler Scraps gave him. He knew he could never eat another carrot as long as he lived, but just to rub it in his face more, Scraps sent him to bed with a bushel of fresh, crispy carrots for dinner. How miserable…what had he done that deserved this kind of punishment? Sure he ruined he and Clara’s egg hatching experiment by eating the egg, and it left her in tears, but to be starved all day long? To be henpecked by a burly, whiskey-soaked stallion with nothing better to do but shout at the “bad kids?”
 
He knew well that that was all he was to everyone. A bad kid. He had a role, so why were they working so hard to change him? The world had defined him since birth. Fuck em. The ponies started it by dismissing him, hating him and seeing him as a monster…although being a bad kid is better than being a monster, he supposed. As he was stepping out of the kitchen, exhausted and miserable, he turned to see Niko watching him, waiting to speak.
 
“H-Hi. Larkspur, right?” Niko asked meekly with a smile.
 
“Who’s asking?” He sneered, eager to just flop in his bed and never wake up.
 
“Nickle Whooves, Niko for short…I saw what that cook did. Those must be some pretty serious blisters.” Niko pushed his glasses up his muzzle.
 
“How did you-” Larkspur raised an eyebrow with surprise, immediately suspicious when Niko reached into his bookbag and pulled out a bottle of some sort of cream. Larkspur took note of the bandages wrapped around the colt’s forelegs and his cartoonishly large, but suitable glasses.
 
“Here! I use this on my burns…it’s ah-just something I made for myself, but I had extra, so here! Just make sure you run your paws under cold water right after you apply it.” He offered the bottle to the puzzled draconequus, who gradually took it.
 
Larkspur eyed it carefully. “Is it gonna glue my paws together or something? Why are you giving this to me?”
 
Niko grinned brightly, “Just thought you’d want some after what I can tell was a shit day. I hope it works for you.” He leaned in closer to whisper, “Just don’t tell anyone. If Clarabelle found it, she’d feel so betrayed…but maybe we can all be friends someday.” He smiled sweetly at Larkspur, whose cheeks suddenly felt warm. Without another word, the small earth pony trotted, almost ran, into the darkened hallway toward the dorms.
 
Larkspur just blinked. Eventually he shrugged and tottered back to his room. He tried the stuff, and was amazed and relieved to find that it worked. The pain in his paws seemed to just melt away, and for the first time in a while, he felt a twinge of gratitude toward someone else. “Thank Celestia for Niko…”
 
As he laid in his bed that night, he thought of the small stallion, and felt this strange, niggling fuzziness in his gut that made him hate the little guy less than the others.