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// ... Some of the 'Party'... 
// Story: I Blame You 
// by Whitestrake 
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	We downed the shots immediately, and the ceremonial shudder ran down our collective spines. That shit burned more than I'd expected it to, but what can you do? The three of us went off into Canterlot, looking for any place that would cater to our needs. We didn't have to search very long, and we came across one such business on Sidesaddle Street.

“The Riding Crop.” I read the sign aloud, and wonder what waited inside for us. I knew some of the possibilities,  but had no certainties. “Canterlot have many S&M clubs?”

“No, it's the club my dad took me to after I enlisted.” I couldn't imagine that Shining Armor's mother enjoyed her husband and son going to a place that entertained males of all backgrounds and adult ages. “Don't give me that look.”

“What are we waiting for?” Jay took the lead, and we made a beeline for the door, only to be blocked by the club's bouncer. You know the type, the kind of guy that watches Roadhouse and fondles himself. Imagine that guy in the body of an earth pony about as thick as he was tall.

“Where do ya think you're goin'?” Oh Christ, he has a Jersey accent, that's too fucking rich! I think I started laughing at that point, because the bouncer got mad very quickly. “You got somethin' to say, big guy?”

“Yeah, I got somethin' to say.” I chuckled some more, and nudged Jay and Armor aside as I approached. I leaned down, hey, the stallion may have been stout, but he was still short, and I put on my best(worst?) sneer. “Me and my boys here are trying to have some fun, and you're trying to stop us.”

“We don't serve your kind here, I’m sure.” I'm not quite sure how you're supposed to treat bouncers, but I'm certain that I'm doing it wrong. Not that I care, but I’d still like to know the proper ways of dealing with them.

“Do you know what discrimination gets you where I'm from?” When the earth pony stallion shook his head, I grinned wider. “A boot to the teeth.” To emphasize my point, I shook my foot. The leather on my old boots was worn enough to see the steel in the toes in places. I don't think I'm very intimidating, but my point must have been made, because the bouncer quickly stepped aside. I motioned for Jay and Shining Armor to follow.

Jay and I made a show of throwing the doors open, and allowed our unicorn friend to have the honor of entering the strip club first. Inside the lobby, some pop track was playing form the next room, which must have been the main room. Good beat, but I'm not one for dancing, besides, we came to watch, not participate. The second pair of doors only opened after the outer set closed, a clever way to keep the public from looking inside, I wish I knew how to set something like that.

“Wait.” I stopped just before my hand touched the steel door handle, a thought had struck me from nowhere. To most people, it the question wouldn't make much sense, but for someone like me, it mattered quite a bit. “If Equestrian money is all metal, how do pony strippers collect?”

“Communal tip jars for each stage.” Armor was quick to answer, and my hopes of making it hail died just as fast. Well, with no other questions, I opened the door for the lucky bachelor.

And my mind sputtered at what I saw.

One half of the club seemed normal, if you ignored the fact that the dancers were technicolor  equines. They were dressed much more than most ponies would wear, even to a formal gathering. Bit gags, bridles, saddles, even blinders on a few, it was all pretty normal. But the other side, of boy, the other side was sickening. The dancers were dressing, not stripping, it made no sense. But then I thought about it, and it became clear.

“Something wrong, Taylor?” Shining Armor nudged my leg, trying to snap me out of whatever trance had ensnared me.

“No.” The answer was simple, one word, the sort that I reserved for hostility. I quickly apologized, out of character for me, but I did. Taking another sip from the flask, I gave a suggestion. “Let's get you a lap dance, buddy.”

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Four hours, one thousand bits, and half a flask later, we found ourselves at a bar in Canterlot's upper class section. That being said, the place could be considered a dive, the sort of relaxed drinking locale common to my hometown. At that point, we were obviously drunk, and the bartender was about to deny us service, but my newest friend flashed his badge. I never knew being buddies with a cop would have its perks, I wish I'd learned that sooner.

“Ya know what, man?” I leaned over the booth's table at the unicorn. My speech was slurred, I was dizzy, and I couldn't care less. Which was odd, because I was on a full stomach, and had only been occasionally sipping from my earlier purchase. “I fuckin' love you, bro.”

“Gay.” Jay started laughing from his seat, drink in hand. He was a prime example of why you should plan ahead when you're going out. He had drunk more than Armor and me combined, and someone that scrawny has no business packing booze away like that.

“I bet you play the skin flute.” I took another sip, and a thought entered my mind. Between the constant distraction of inebriation and music. It explained why I was wasted, despite my low intake, and why it hit me way harder than it should have. Did I just think the same thing twice? Shit. “I think that griffin drugged me.”

“You bought that from a griffin?” That sobered Jay up slightly, and Armor put down the bottle he was attached to, wanting to know what was going on. “Big mistake, dude, griffins hate humans.”

“You're saying that to me now?” That's the kind of thing I needed to know before I try to communicate with feline/bird hybrids. With that horror in mind, I rose to my shaking feet, and tried to get to the nearest hospital. I'm not one to panic, but I had been exposing myself to some unknown chemical for the past four hours, I needed to go.

“Let's get the fuck out of here.” To my surprise, it was Armor that said that, not me or Jay. When I scooted out of the booth, I fell to the floor, and briefly wondered why the room was spinning. I used the seat to balance myself, and did my very best to walk out. Ever seen one of those drunk walking scenes in movies or video games? The type where the camera focuses and unfocuses randomly, and it wobbles around? Yeah, now add ponies and everything being smaller than it should be, and you'll understand my situation.

“Watch it, asshole.” I bumped into some... pony, I couldn't even be bother to check gender at that point. Anyway, I think I spilled his drink, yeah it was definitely a stallion, I think. I say I spilled his drink, because he reacted as one often does when his drink is spilled by a drunk guy at a bar.

By that, I mean he punched me in to stomach.

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File Attached<*>

I Blame You Chapter 25<*>

Preview Mode<*>

Damn. Where the hell am I? I'm still in Canterlot, I know that much, but no specifics. My head hurts, my stomach and face hurt. I remember a hoof, and then... nothing. I tried to move, get my bearings, figure some things out. When I tried to bring my arm down, something held it back. I cracked my eyes, and swore under my breath, before I understood why I couldn't move.

I was handcuffed.

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I only put that preview because it may be a while before the next update. It is also subject to change.