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RogerDodger
Word limit
400–750
A Lifetime Worth of Trouble
I’ve caused a whole heap of trouble in my life. I mean, it’s part of my name and all, but it’s still the one thing that keeps comin’ across my mind, every night when I’m back on my lonesome. Well, at least after I’ve turned on the lights and not tripped over my front hooves in the dark. Granted, the heavy clothes and exhaustion from a day’s worth of rodeo clownin’ don’t often help, but I’m mindful enough to keep from makin’ a mess that’ll take hours to clean up.
The nightly ritual is pretty standard for me now: say my goodnights to everyone I happen to pass on the way back to my room, while tryin’ not to cause as much damage as I did during the day, get out of those baggy clothes and make-up, and then settle in for a good night’s sleep. That’s usually when I start contemplatin’ my past, my place in life and how I done got to this point. How I went from livin’ out of a cart and chasin’ after the rodeo, while tryin’ to keep my head down and my damages to a manageable amount, to… I guess it’s actually gettin’ paid for it now.
Still, I can’t help but think back to all of those years I spent chasin’ the rodeo, just for a chance to see some of it, and all the messes I caused. I bet if I took the rest of my days I couldn’t count the number of ponies I got injured or wonderful days of rodeoin’ I ruined. Heck, there’s probably a few fillies and colts that were at their very first rodeo, filled with excitement and anticipation, but they had the bad luck of havin’ Troubleshoes there to muck it all up.
It’s about that time I start tossin’ and turnin’ over in bed, foolin’ myself that if I just find a more comfortable position it’ll undo all the restlessness, but I know it ain’t true, really. Even after I paid my dues from all those years and finally joined the rodeo I always wanted to be a part of, my past keeps naggin’ at me like a couple of fleas I just can’t shake off. Sometimes it’s enough to make me want to call it quits and run off with my tail between my legs, but… Then I have nights like this, I suppose.
Tangled Locks, one of the other rodeo clowns, came knockin’ at my door just as I was gettin’ settled in for some rest and self deprecation. The rodeo was set to move out of town tomorrow, and he and some of the others wanted to spend the night out on the town enjoyin’ themselves. Part of me wanted to ask why he came to me at all, but I guess I just knew on my own. It’s ‘cause after all those years of runnin’ amok and trailin’ havoc wherever I went, I’d finally found where I belonged.
I may not be able to atone or apologize to every single pony I done messed the rodeo up for, but I can rest easy knowin’ that as long as I’m clownin’ about out there, makin’ ‘em laugh, I’m at least tryin’.
The nightly ritual is pretty standard for me now: say my goodnights to everyone I happen to pass on the way back to my room, while tryin’ not to cause as much damage as I did during the day, get out of those baggy clothes and make-up, and then settle in for a good night’s sleep. That’s usually when I start contemplatin’ my past, my place in life and how I done got to this point. How I went from livin’ out of a cart and chasin’ after the rodeo, while tryin’ to keep my head down and my damages to a manageable amount, to… I guess it’s actually gettin’ paid for it now.
Still, I can’t help but think back to all of those years I spent chasin’ the rodeo, just for a chance to see some of it, and all the messes I caused. I bet if I took the rest of my days I couldn’t count the number of ponies I got injured or wonderful days of rodeoin’ I ruined. Heck, there’s probably a few fillies and colts that were at their very first rodeo, filled with excitement and anticipation, but they had the bad luck of havin’ Troubleshoes there to muck it all up.
It’s about that time I start tossin’ and turnin’ over in bed, foolin’ myself that if I just find a more comfortable position it’ll undo all the restlessness, but I know it ain’t true, really. Even after I paid my dues from all those years and finally joined the rodeo I always wanted to be a part of, my past keeps naggin’ at me like a couple of fleas I just can’t shake off. Sometimes it’s enough to make me want to call it quits and run off with my tail between my legs, but… Then I have nights like this, I suppose.
Tangled Locks, one of the other rodeo clowns, came knockin’ at my door just as I was gettin’ settled in for some rest and self deprecation. The rodeo was set to move out of town tomorrow, and he and some of the others wanted to spend the night out on the town enjoyin’ themselves. Part of me wanted to ask why he came to me at all, but I guess I just knew on my own. It’s ‘cause after all those years of runnin’ amok and trailin’ havoc wherever I went, I’d finally found where I belonged.
I may not be able to atone or apologize to every single pony I done messed the rodeo up for, but I can rest easy knowin’ that as long as I’m clownin’ about out there, makin’ ‘em laugh, I’m at least tryin’.