The Adventures of Doctor Blueprint #1

[Alekazam 1]

*WARNING* BEFORE YOU READ: 1. First of all, if I get enough positive feedback, I will make this a series. By positive, I don't mean good exclusively. What I mean by that is, if you don't like this story, tell me why. Hopefully I can change whatever made you not like it.
2. Second of all, this is pretty dark. And if I continue, it will most likely become pregressively darker. Don't come here expecting an everythingwentbetterthanexpected.jpg story.

Also, this may seem a little bit out of context. All of the stories I write exist in the same universe, however this is the first one I've posted here, so this story is without one important piece of context. Before the events in this story occured, there was a nuclear war. Yes, you read that right. Don't judge my imagination.
3. What's this? What's that thing at the bottom there? Yes, that's relevant. Don't read it until you are done with the story itself.
4. Lastly, this is copy pasted from a google doc. I'm not sure why, but that made it all irreversably in bold letters.

You have been warned. Prepare your plots.

 

The Adventures of Doctor Blueprint #1

        The town was in sight now. Just a few rows of wooden houses, and some shops. New Ponyville was a bastion of hope, a town rising from the rubble, a leader in the new world after the war.
        Doctor Blueprint was hopeful. At this point he had come across many budding new towns. The war had been devastating, but he was sure that he could truly make a difference, and help some ponies out.
        Two guards stood watch at the gate of a poorly constructed wooden wall. They approached him.
        “State your name and business, please.” said the guard on the left.
        “Doctor Greyhoof,” he responded, without skipping a beat. He used to pause before he lied. He used to feel remorse afterwards. But these days, Doctor Blueprint had no problem lying.
        “A Doctor, huh? Are you a medical doctor?” asked the guard on the right.
        “Of sorts,” he said.
        “What’s that supposed to mean, huh?” asked the left guard.
        “Well, it depends on how bad it is here.”
        The guards looked at each other, seeming to have an unspoken conversation. After a moment, the right guard responded.
        “You may enter the village.”
        Without hesitation, Blueprint picked up his things and followed one of the guards to a large, white tent. The guard walked back to his post. Blueprint entered the tent.
        Inside was organized chaos. Ponies scampered back and forth all over the place. Beds with ponies lined the walls. At the end was a room of supplies. Some ponies were crying, others screaming for assistance.
        Blueprint turned to the nearest nurse.
        “Excuse me?” he said. The nurse turned towards him.
        “My name is Doctor Greyhoof. I’m here to offer any and all assistance that I can.”
        The nurse nodded in appreciation.
        “At the moment, we aren’t organized enough to give you any specific jobs. Just help out where you can, and try to find any ponies that seem to be in the worst shape,” she said.
        Blueprint nodded. In this chaos it would be hard to find a patient, but he was determined to help everypony.
        After a few minutes of searching, he saw a prime patient. A young colt lay in a bed. No one else was taking any notice of him. Blueprint could see tears, clearly rolling down his face.
        Blueprint approached his bed. The colt looked up at him.
        “Hey there, little fella’! My name is Doctor Greyhoof. What’s your name?” he asked.
        “My name is Maple,” responded the colt.
        “What seems to be the problem today?”
        “My leg was blown off by a bomb,” he said.
        “That’s all? I can fix that in a jiffy!” Blueprint exclaimed.
        The colt looked at him incredulously. Many of the other doctors here had told him that he would never walk again. How could this new doctor help him?
        “Don’t believe me, eh? Most people don’t at first. But just you wait! We’ll have you up and running in no time!”
        Blueprint set down one of his briefcases, and pulled away the sheep on the colt’s bed.
        ”Hm. Doesn’t look infected, that’s good,” said Blueprint, as he examined the bloody stump on the colt’s body.
        He pressed a button on his briefcase, and something  miraculous happened. The briefcase folded out into a mini workshop. Some nearby ponies took notice, but most of the ponies in the tent were too preoccupied to notice.
        Blueprint went to work on taking measurements and working with some power tools. A plank of wood, some nails, and a few cables began to take shape into something more.
        As the tent became less and less crowded, the scene became more and more noticeable. Ponies starting to gather around in awe.
        But Blueprint didn’t even notice at all. He was consumed by his work. He had to get every inch, every joint, completely perfect.
        It was past midnight, but most of the town was still up, watching Blueprint at work. Finally, he was done.
        He picked up his creation and displayed it to the crowd.
        A wooden leg, made perfectly to fit the colt’s leg.
        Many of the ponies were suspicious. Blueprint could understand. People rarely believed in his ability. But he had never failed, in the end.
        He gently placed the contraption on the colt.
        “How is that thing going to work? There isn’t even anything keeping it on my leg!” the colt said.
        “Just get up and try it out. You’ll see,” said Blueprint.
        The colt tentatively got out of his bed and took a few steps. He started walking, then trotting, and finally galloping at full speed.
        Blueprint just smiled at his creation. Another successful invention, and another pony saved.
        “How does that thing work?” someone asked.
        “Oh, I’ll never reveal my secret.”
        Before anyone could say anything else, he packed up and ran out of the tent.
        “Wait!” someone yelled. A nurse ran out after him.
        “We could use more doctors like you. We have ponies coming in from all over the world, every day. Would you be willing to stay here?
        Blueprint had never staying in one place for very long. But something about New Ponyville... It was such a pure place. How could he not stay?
        “Of course I’ll stay! I am a doctor, aren’t I?” he responded.
        “Oh, thank you so much! Although, I apologize, I don’t think I caught your name.”
        “Doctor Greyhoof.”
        He never hesitated anymore. He used to pause before he lied. He used to feel remorse afterwards. But these days, Doctor Blueprint had no problem lying for the good of Equestria.
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Manehattan Times

World Famous Doctor Killed In Most Recent Wave of Nukes

          FILLYDELPHIA, EQ - Today, we bring our readers some shocking news. In another devastating wave of nukes sent our way from the Zebra Kingdom, thousands are dead. These weapons of mass destruction have plagued our people for the past few months. However, today, we mourn the loss of a great man. A man who devoted his life to the rehabilitation of the innocents, injured in the crossfire of this horrible war.

          Dr. James A. Greyhoof, a renowned physician that took the world by storm with his radical new rehabilitation methods, was tragically killed in the most recent wake of nuclear bombs. Greyhoof had devoted his life to healing those who had been injured, in previously incurable ways, even long before the beginning of the war.
          One of his former patients had much to say about him. “Dr. Greyhoof saved my life,” said the young Rose Flower, aged 8. Rose was injured five months ago in the first wave of nukes. She had been in school in Ponyville, a small suburban town, when the bomb had hit. Much of her face had been blown off. Many doctors had told her it was hopeless, until Greyhoof arrived to help out the injured.
          “It’s thanks to him that our daughter is still alive,” said Rose’s parents, Tulip and Sun Flower. “We are so sorry to hear that he died. He was one of the world’s greatest men, and now he’s gone.”

          Today, Rose can happily play with her friends without having to worry about the injuries she sustained. Her face has been almost completely repaired, and she is as healthy as any other young pony in our wonderful nation.
          Greyhoof, and many others killed by nuclear missiles, will be honored with a memorial in Canterlot next week. If you would like to donate to its construction, you can contact our paper.

 

Article Written by Robert Paper, chief correspondent for The Manehattan Times, All rights reserved 1996©

Edited December 20, 2012 by Alekazam