//------------------------------// // City Ponies // Story: Mixing Colors // by Lyssa //------------------------------// Finding a not-too-expensive hotel wasn't too hard, as Manehattan was somewhat of a tourist city. Once we put our small amount of luggage into the hotel dresser, Braeburn proposed that we would go out to eat at a fancy restaurant. "Oh, come on Braeburn, we shouldn't," I told him. "Ah've already made up my mind, sugarcube," he replied. "Ah didn't get dressed up this fancy to just sit around the rest of the day. We both look great, so let's go!" I blushed, but decided he was right, we both did look great. I brushed my mane and tail again, and made sure Braeburn brushed his too, and we were off. Manehattan had no shortage of nice restaurants, but Braeburn insisted on going to the best. Pulling over several ponies on the street, he asked where the best restaurant was. The winner, without a shadow of a doubt, was Le Poney Affamé, apparently the most delicious (and expensive) place around. As we trotted towards the restaurant, we got several odd looks, making Braeburn seem uncomfortable. "Don't worry about it," I whispered to him as we neared the street a nice pony told us Le Poney Affamé was on. "They're probably just looking at my wing. Nopony here knows you're from Apploosa." He nodded, but the he still seemed ill at ease. When we finally got to the restaurant, Braeburn opened the door for me as a walked in, and the smell hit my nose like a bullet. It was fantastic-delicately grilled apples, Caesar salads, celery flambé, all paired with the sound of light chatter, beautiful classical music, and faint sizzling from the kitchen. From the look on Braeburn's face, he was in heaven too. I realized that he had probably never been to a place like this before, so he might not know all the weird recipe words on the menu. Thank goodness I'd lived in Canterlot so long, or I might not have known either. We walked up to the maître d' slowly, so we didn't seem too rushed. "Table for two, please," I said to the moustachioed pony at the front desk. "Oui, mademoiselle. right this way, please," he said as he guided us to a small table. Placing the menus on the table, he told us, "Your waiter will be right with you." As he walked away, I grinned at Braeburn. "Pretty great place! You have very fine tastes, sir," I joked. He smiled. "Only the best for you." Picking up his menu, his face scrunched up. "What... What is all this?" I looked over and saw what he was struggling with. "That's oats in a cream sauce, that one is lightly sautéed daisies with a side salad and vinaigrette sauce, and that's potatoes au gratin-that is, with cheese." He shook his head in disbelief. "Now, why can't they just say that?" I grinned. "They make it sound fancier so they can sell it for more money. Now lets see... I think I'll get the grilled apples with a side salad. What about you?" He gave another weary glance at the menu. "Ah think Ah'll have that too," he replied. The waiter came to take our orders and give us drinks-iced tea for me and sparkling apple cider for Braeburn. As we chatted, I noticed a pretty pink unicorn giving us dirty looks. Deciding not to make another enemy, I ignored her and continued to chat with Braeburn and sip my tea. Finally, the food came! Without a bit of hesitation Braeburn and I dug right into the apples and salad. I know grilled apples and salad doesn't really sound five star restaurant quality, but believe me, they were. The spices on the apples were just right to create the perfect blend of sweet and savory, plus the light smokiness of the grill that added another whole dimension to the flavor. Plus, added with the salad (ordered sans carrots) and the perfect vinaigrette, I can without a shadow of a doubt say that it was the best meal I've ever had. Braeburn looked like he was fully enjoying it too-most of the time his eyes were closed so he could just sit back and enjoy the flavors. I have to say, I was proud of him for taking it slowly and not diving into his meal. Too soon, we had cleaned our plates and had to pay the bill. We tipped the waiter and began to leave. On our way out, Braeburn accidentally ran into the same pony that had been glaring at us earlier. "Ah'm very sorry, ma'am," Braeburn apologized politely. The unicorn gave him a poisonous look before snootily replying, "what a nice accent you have there. Did you acquire it by working with other country ponies?" With that rude note, she trotted off. Braeburn was blushing like mad, looking a mixture of sadness and embarrassment. "It's okay, Braeburn. Don't worry, she was just one mean pony. I'm sure the rest of Manehattan is very nice. Don't be sad because of one mule." He simply nodded and we continued towards the hotel. *** The next day I woke up earlier than usual, remembering today was to be my first meeting with the curator. My heart was leaping out of my chest so badly that after I got all ready I had to order some calming tea to keep myself from having a panic attack. I let Braeburn sleep in a while since I had accidentally woken up three hours early. After what seemed like years, Braeburn was awake and ready and we were headed to the museum. Since it was only nine in the morning, not too many ponies were in the streets, since the foals were probably in school and the adults were just arriving at their jobs. Admittedly, it was nice to just enjoy a walk with Braeburn without the big bustling city-it was almost like Apploosa again. When we finally got to the museum, I marveled at its grandeur. The floors and pillars out front were white marble, and the walls were filled with beautiful, famous works. I struggled to keep my jaw up and maintain an air of professionalism. When we walked in, the curator greeted us with enthusiasm. He was just as large and jolly as he sounded on the phone, with a cream colored coat and a tan mane, tail, and set of impressive side burns. "Ms. Paint, I presume?" He asked as he headed over to shake my hoof. Without even allowing me to agree, he continued. "By the looks of those saddle bags, you've got quite the selection for me to look over! Well, lets head up to my office. Another pony has entered their art as well, and I only have one spot open, so it'll be a close call." "I... I have a competitor?" I asked, confused. Over the phone, it had kind of seemed like he only wanted my art. "Why yes, of course!" He answered as he led the way to his office. "Both of you have quite a lot of press regarding your artwork, and we only allow the best here. I'll have you two get acquainted while I look over your works. May I?" He asked, gesturing to my bag. I handed it to him and watched him walk into his office, which had a small frosted window. Braeburn and I say down on the chairs outside his office to wait. As we sat there, a familiar pony trotted in and took a seat as well. When I finally recognized her, a gasp escaped my mouth. "You again!" I exclaimed, jumping from my seat. It was none other than the snooty pony who had snubbed poor Braeburn. When she saw me, she sneered and recoiled. "Ugh, it's you and your redneck friend! What are the likes of you doing here?!" Maintaining an air of superiority, I answered, "I happen to be applying for the empty spot in the museum! What are you doing here?" She gaped at me. "I'M applying for the spot in the museum!" Emerging from his office, the curator saw our little meeting. "Oh good, you're both here. Splatter Paint, this is Sassy Sculptings. Sassy Sculptings, this is Splatter Paint. You two are competing for the empty spot. Won't this be fun?!" *** By the way, here's a picture I drew of Splatter. With hope, I'll do Dasher and Sassy Sculptings soon too. Sorry it's sideways, but the thing was being weird.