“Roseluck, my love. Tha sweetest an’ most beautiful mare a stallion could hope for, my graceful marefriend, why in Celestia’s great green Equestria does it have to be foals?”
Carnegie Porter was upset. Not angry, mind you. He was horrified and over-excessively whiny.
The beige Earth pony stallion was rubbing his black mane stressfully with a hoof, gazing with an incredulous expression at his marefriend, Roseluck. The red-maned mare simply raised an eyebrow at him. He stood with her in their sitting room, he having just gotten off work at the brewery. She had just gone, and, in an act that shook Porter to the core, she had offered to foal-sit for Applejack and Rarity while they and four other ponies went to Canterlot for some important doohickey involving either a friendship emergency or a rampaging monster.
“Carns. Quit being so melodramatic. It’s only for one day. Then they sleep over, and we give them back in the morning.” Rose explained to her still exasperated coltfriend.
Ever since the day they had finally returned to the present day after their adventures, Rose and Porter hadn’t hesitated to move in together and make their relationship known to everypony in Ponyville. It had been the talk of the town for weeks. Ponyville’s drunkard suddenly moving in with a florist; it was scandalous to even think about what was possibly going on. But when Time Turner unexpectedly proposed to the mailmare, Derpy Hooves, Rose and Porter’s relationship suddenly went unseen and unheard.
After a delightfully perfect wedding, Derpy and the Doctor had gone off on another journey in the TROTIS for their honeymoon. Visiting 1940 A.B., Carnegie recalled. Then, Carnegie had had to put up with Dinky Hooves. He found out he could indeed tolerate fillies. Somewhat.
For a record of five seconds, he patiently watched over the little pinkish unicorn. Then she instantly became an annoyance and Carnegie only survived the ordeal by drinking three entire vats of honey mead and locking himself in he and Rose’s shared bedroom. Now Roseluck was foalsitting not one, but TWO fillies?! Carnegie was going to need a lot more alcohol.
“But Rose! Ya know I can’t ‘andle foals! I’m jus' terrible wit’ ‘em...”
“Yeah? Well, you better learn how.”
“What’s tha’ supposed ta mean?”
“It means that if we get married, we are most certainly having foals. So you better learn how to handle them while we’re only dating, Cockney Colt.” She said, tossing her mane back. She had used his old nickname from his days as the champion drinker and hoof-fighter of all of Equestria.
That struck Carnegie Porter hard. He sat there, blubbering. His mind was going into overdrive thinking about what she had just told him.
“Y-Ya wanna get married?!”
“Well, of course I do, dummy. What do you think happens after ponies go dating?”
“Uhhh… sex?”
“Besides sex, Carns. What happens when they find that they’re perfect for each other? What about when they decide they want to have a family?”
Carnegie gulped as he realized that she was indeed saying that they were going to get married and have foals of their own. Suddenly, taking care of a couple of fillies seemed like a necessity. He would definitely be needing the experience.
“So I’m assuming by the pale look on your face that you understand why you should help me foal-sit?”
Carnegie only nodded.
“Great. We’re picking them up later today. Be ready by two o’clock. We’ll trot over to the school and pick them up. Then we bring them back here.”
Carnegie nodded again. Rose smiled at the stallion and walked over to kiss his cheek. She turned to walk away, and before she left the room, she paused at the doorway to look back at him. Then she dropped the bomb.
“Oh yeah. And no alcohol while the fillies are here.”
“Woah, Porter. That seems like some responsibility.”
Carnegie was now at a bar, he had been there since he got off work. With him, sitting on a barstool directly beside him, was Time Turner. Or TIme Turner Hooves. Or Doctor Hooves. Whatever they called him now. Carnegie still called his former roommate and best friend by the nickname he had given him when they first met.
It was a chilly September, which explained why Carnegie sat in a peacoat and why the Doctor wore a suit jacket along with his usual collar and tie. The good Doctor also wore a mocking grin on his face while he teased the stressed out Porter. Normally, it was the other way around with Carnegie pestering the worried Doctor. And Time Turner was relishing this fact.
“Doc, I’m serious.”
“Sure you are, Porter,” the Doctor remarked, downing a second shot, “freaking out because you hate foals? Just get over it. You got along with Dinky fine.”
“Yeah, but tha’s from Dink’s point a’ view.” Carnegie began to sulk. He tended to do so when he confronted to do something that he very definitely did not want to do.
“And you say that she said that she wanted to get married?”
“Yea. It’s bizarre, I know. Sorta outta tha blue.”
“To be honest, I expected you to propose to Rose before I did to Derpy.”
“What?”
“Yeah, the way you and Rose are together. You two even act like a married couple. In a good way, though. Acting foul one moment and the next moment, partying your plots off while making out, wasted drunk, on a table.”
Carnegie only grunted. He still had those two fillies to worry about. What if they hated him? What they were little brats? What if Roseluck saw that they didn’t like him and decided that she shouldn’t marry him? What if she left him forever because of his intense rivalry with anypony that much younger than he was?! He began to panic, but he did not voice his stress to Time Turner. Instead, he downed another glass full of rum and ordered a pair of scotches.
When Time Turner had reached out to take one of the shots, Carnegie surprised him by grabbing both and downing them at the same time. The Doctor may have had a degree in cheese-making, but he knew enough about alcoholics to know that Carnegie was flipping out.
“Porter. You need to calm down. You can’t expect to make easy friends with the fillies by scaring the ever-living shit out of them! Just stop drinking for a minute and talk to me. C’mon, Porter. I’m your best friend.”
Carnegie put down his third shot and arched a bushy black eyebrow at his friend.
“What is there ta talk about? I’m gonna make a fool outta meself an’ then I’m gonna lose the greatest mare I’ve ever loved…”
“Nonsense, Porter! You just need to take it easy, calm down, and be friendly. It’s that easy. And if it doesn’t go well, Rose isn’t going to just leave you over it-”
“Doc, ya got a foal of yer own. It’s easy fer ya ta say tha’, because you take care of her all tha time wit’ Derps. I don’t have any foals o’ me own. An’ I don’t jus’ hang out wit’ ‘em either.”
Carnegie rose up out of his seat, thrusting his flank in Time Turner’s muzzle. The Doctor backed his muzzle away from the image of a frothing glass of beer.
“Do ya see this Doc? Me cutie mark is of alcohol. I drink it. I make it. I sell it. I collect it. I can’t jus’ show fillies tha’ sorta thing! They’re not of age! They probably wouldn’t appreciate the flavor even if they were. My entire life is ‘bout alcohol. I’m a brewer, by Celestia’s beard!”
Carnegie sat back down and slammed his muzzle painfully into the countertop. Time Turner winced at the thud but it immediately transfigured into a look of pity. The stallion was really getting worked up over this.
“Well… Most I can tell you, Porter, is that just need to be kind. Be polite. Be an adult. You don’t have to be their friend, just be their caretaker. Maybe a friendship will form, but one doesn’t have to. You just have to show Rose that you can be responsible and-”
“Tha’s jus’ it, Doc. I’m not responsible. Ya’ve said it yerself. I’m the most irresponsible pony ya’ve ever met…”
“Porter, that was before we went on the TROTIS! You’ve matured! You’ve grown up. You’ve beat up the Illumarenati, you’ve tackled pirates, you’ve fought an umbrum. Carnegie, you can handle a few fillies for one day.”
Carnegie grunted, his face still mashed against the bar’s counter. The bartender, Martini or whatever her name was, gave Carnegie a look. He lifted up his head, furrowing his bushy eyebrows. Carnegie turned to the Doctor and opened his mouth slightly. Time Turner could hear the stallion’s simple brain whirring away in deep thought.
Then the tan stallion gasped and gaped at the ornate clock mounted over the bar’s bottle racks. Carnegie nearly fell flat on the floor as he scrambled out of his stool and buttoned up his peacoat. Time Turner was greatly confused by his friend’s sudden rushed behavior, the other stallion splashing the rest of his drink into a flask. As Carnegie slipped it into his coat pocket, Time Turner asked Carnegie what was wrong.
“I’m late! I was supposed ta meet Rose at two in tha schoolyard. Cor blimey, I hope she isn’t gonna chew me head off.”
Time Turner just shook his head.
“Porter, Rose isn’t like that. You know she’s nothing like Berry Punch was.”
It was true, Roseluck was indefinitely better than Carnegie’s bitchy ex-marefriend. Of course, Carnegie was already heading out the door, galloping full speed.
“Sorrydocdoncarenuffseeyalaterbye!”
And with that, Carnegie blasted out of the bar towards the distant red school-house. Time Turner chuckled to himself and went back to his third shot of scotch.
“Hey.” The bartender trotted up to the Doctor. He smiled sheepishly at her. She nodded iin the direction of the door.“What was up with him?”
“He’s late. He was supposed to meet up with his marefriend at the school.”
“Huh. You realize he didn’t pay for his drinks, right?”
Time Turner felt his ears flatten as he looked with wide eyes at the bill she scooted over at him. That was going to cost a hell of a lot of bits.
“Porter, I told you no alcohol!”
“I’m sorry, love,” Carnegie blubbered, drinking down the gin in his flask, “it’s stress.”
“Why are you stressed? It’s only a school. And you’re not supposed to have alcohol on school grounds, anyways.”
“What? Why? I’m not givin’ any ta tha titchy lil’ bastards-”
“Porter!” Roseluck hissed, smiling apologetically at the numerous parents around them, who were eyeing the ignorant Porter with extreme disapproval. Carnegie just ignored them. He was too busy slurping down gin and anxiously glancing at the red school-house’s door.
“Porter, you can’t call them that!” She whispered to her nervous lover. “These are their parents!”
“I know they’re the parents, but the tykes are titchy lil’ b-”
“Okay, okay! I know they are. But just hush up, honey. They’re about to be released.”
Carnegie shuddered. The way she said ‘released’ made it sound like the foals were rabid animals trying to escape a cage. As he began to image the foals as impish demons, the bell rang and foals of all colors and varieties flooded out from the school. All around him, parents were hugging and kissing their little ones. Carnegie saw Dinky Hooves walk past and the two glanced at each other with severe distrust. But Carnegie’s attention was turned away from his mortal enemy by Rose calling out to a trio of fillies.
“Apple Bloom! Sweetie Belle! Over here!” The fillies that approached were a yellow Earth pony with a red mane and a ridiculously large pink bow, a white unicorn with a pink and purple mane, and an orange pegasus with a neon pink mane. They each ran up to Rose and began bouncing around her excitedly.
“Hi, Miss Rose! How are ya?” The Earth pony had a country accent. Horrible.
“Ooo, Miss Rose, is that your… coltfriend?” The unicorn was giggling. Terrifying.
“Ewwww, coltfriends.” The pegasus gagged and looked away. Why was she here again? Carnegie specifically recalled foalsitting two fillies. Not three.
“Why yes, girls. That’s Carns, er- Carnegie Porter. He is my coltfriend and he’ll be helping me take care of you!”
“Rose, love, why are there three? I thought we were sittin’ two.”
Rose looked like she had just realized this while the girls giggled (the pegasus was the exception, she gagged).
“Awww, he called her ‘love’!” They giggled and gushed. Carnegie felt his eye twitch. He needed another drink.
“Well, I don’t know. The Earth pony is Apple Bloom, the unicorn is Sweetie Belle. I’m afraid I don’t know the pegasus…”
“I’m Scootaloo, the most awesome filly in Ponyville!”
“Righ’.” Carnegie grunted. Scootaloo glared at the stallion.
“What was that, Mister Porter?”
“Nothin'.”
They were walking together through the nippy September winds towards Carnegie and Rose’s house. They passed the floral kiosk were Roseluck worked. Daisy and Lily Valley, her co-workers, got Rose to stop by the stand and introduce them to the fillies.
“Oh aren’t you just the cutest little things!” Daisy squealed. Carnegie rolled his eyes. ‘Things’ was probably the only word she had used that he could agree with.
“Awww and what’s your names?”
“I’m Sweetie Belle!”
“Ah’m Apple Bloom!”
“M’name’s Scootaloo!”
“Awww!” The flower ponies cooed together. Carnegie just closed his eyes and scrunched his nose. If he heard a pony say ‘aww’ one more time, he was going to buck something into smithereens…
“Awww!!!” Carnegie groaned quietly to himself. He could already tell it was going to be a long, long, long day.
“Oh! And why hello, Porter.” Lily Valley said, winking at Rose’s coltfriend. That was the only time Carnegie had ever seen Rose glare daggers at one of her co-workers.
“Oh yeah,” Daisy added, “hey, Porter. How’s it going?”
Carnegie dared to think that Lily Valley had a crush on him. As for Daisy, she was fine; only annoying when she was squealing at foals that he did not like at all, really.
“Gotta stick around wit’ these tykes. Ya know how I am wit’ foals.”
“Oh, don’t be like that Porter. I’m sure you and the girls will get along just fine.”
Carnegie only grunted. It seemed like everypony was saying that. And the more they did said things like that, the more he felt that it wasn’t going to go well at all. It made him endlessly nervous.
After the mares and fillies quit their giggling and cooing, Rose, Carnegie, and the fillies were back on their way to the house. Unfortunately for him, the fillies decided to question him about cutie marks.
“What’s your cutie mark?”
“It’s beer.”
“Your cutie mark is beer?”
“Yea. Somefin’ wrong wit’ tha’?”
“How’d you get a cutie mark of beer? Don’t you have to be an adult to drink?”
Carnegie shuddered as memories of his colthood flooded into his mind. He decided to ignore that question. It was rather personal.
“Mister Porter, could ya help us get our cutie marks?” The country filly, Apple Bloom, asked him.
“Oh, uh… I dunno… maybe?”
“Porter, help the fillies out a bit.” Rose said, as they trotted up the pathway towards the front door.
“Well, um… don’t they ‘ave ‘omework or somefin’ like tha’?”
“Oh darn, I forgot we had homework!” Apple Bloom whined. The other fillies sighed and looked down as they walked into the just-cleaned sitting room.
“Maybe Mister Porter can help us get our homework done!”
Before Carnegie could protest, Roseluck butted in.
“Excellent idea, girls!” She trotted into the kitchen. “I’m gonna make a few snacks. Help them out, will you, honey?”
Carnegie glanced at the cheering fillies.
“Cutie Mark Crusaders Students!” They squealed.
Carnegie felt his eye twitch once again.
“Mister Porter, what’s three times five?”
“Fifteen.”
“Thanks.”
Carnegie was dreadfully, endlessly bored. His alcohol was confiscated, and he was left with drinking some sparkling water. It tasted dreadful. It’s sour flavor matching the sour expression on his face as he sat at the round dining table with the tykes. When Rose had asked him to help them with their homework, he hadn’t expected to be practically doing all the work for them.
Carnegie had basically written their history essays himself. The original chicken scratch that was supposedly about his native land, Great Bridleton, but what they had written was entirely unacceptable.
“No, King Heron wasn’ king durin’ tha Bridlish-Pegasopolis Wars! It was Queen Marey. Cor blimey, this is dreadful. Your teacher mus’ be awful at Bridlish history.”
“Hey! Miss Cheerilee is the best teacher we ever had!”
“Technically, Scootaloo, she’s been the only teacher we ever had.”
“Oh yeah. Right.”
“Pegasus, why are ya even ‘ere, still?”
“I’m awesome, that’s why.”
“Fair ‘nough.”
After that, Roseluck had trotted in bearing a plate of chocolate-chip cookies. Eagerly, as they were his favorite, Carnegie reached out to take a hoofful when Rose slapped his hoof away.
“Those are for the fillies, Carnegie. If you want something to eat, make it yourself.”
Then he was forced to help them with their math work, which was pretty basic multiplication tables. But the way they acted like it was some sort of rocket science gritted Carnegie’s nerves. He tried his best to explain the tables to them, but eventually he gave up. He suddenly found himself transformed from master brewer to living calculator.
“What’s five divided by four?”
“Twenty, Apple Bloom. Ya already asked me what four by five was.”
“Oh yeah, that’s right! Thanks, Mister Porter.”
Carnegie grunted in reply, staring off into space, swirling a hoof through his sparkling water.
“Okay, we’re done!” Sweetie Belle announced. At the volume she hollered, Carnegie assumed she was informing the entire town about her completed homework.
“Well, what else ya got?” Carnegie droned. He was brain-dead from the lack of alcohol and the boredom of doing filly’s school work for them.
“Science!” Scootaloo exclaimed, slamming a large textbook onto the table. It’s title read ‘Science Fair Projects’.
“Science Fair comin’ up?”
“Eeyup!” Apple Bloom answered. Carnegie grunted. He wished Time Turner was here. Then the Doctor would eagerly help them, and Carnegie could get some much-needed quality time with Rose. And maybe crack open a bottle of champagne.
“So what’re ya doin’ fer yer science fair project?”
“We haven’t decided yet. But when we find out, we’ll be sure to get our cutie marks when we take home the first place prize!”
“CUTIE MARK CRUSADER SCIENTISTS!” They all screamed in sheer excitement. Carnegie covered his ears and reeled away.
“Okay, okay, none o’ tha’, please an’ thank ya.” He grouched from his new spot lying on his back in the dining room floor. Rose called down from upstairs, most definitely from the bedroom.
“Carns, be nice to them.”
“I am!”
“Doesn’t sound like it.”
Grumbling about brats and needing some flank spank, Carnegie rolled up back onto his chair and watched the girls chatter excitedly over the book.
“Ooo how about this one!”
“Growing plants? Borrring!”
“Don’ let Rosey catch ya sayin’ tha’.” Carnegie chuckled. They ignored him and he went back to frowning sourly.
“How ‘bout we do this one! Ya take an apple an’ turn it inta a battery!”
“But Snips and Snails are already doing that one, with a potato.”
“So? We’d be usin’ an apple.”
“We can’t do it, A.B. You just want to do it so ponies will buy your apples.”
“Buy some apples!”
“Exactly.”
“Hey what about this one?” Sweetie Belle asked showing them all the page she was reading. Carnegie’s bushy eyebrows rose with sudden partial interest.
“Farm-men-tar-tion?” Apple Bloom sounded out, squinting at the title.
“Fermentation,” corrected Sweetie Belle, the walking dictionary, “it’s how they make stuff like medicine, alcohol, and some kinds of candy.”
“Cool! So we can make food?”
“Yeah! What do you think, Mister Porter?”
Carnegie was only grinning now. He had an idea. An awful idea! A wonderful, awful idea.
“I like it. How ‘bout we head over ta my brewery. Tha’ way we can use my gear.”
ONE WEEK LATER
“Oh, I can’t wait to see their project!” Rose exclaimed to Carnegie, who was walking beside his marefriend proudly. He was wearing a big grin. Which somewhat touched Roseluck, considering the Ponyville School Science Fair was chock full of young foals showing off their presentations and projects.
Carnegie wasn’t smiling at the foals though. He was smiling in anticipation for the Cutie Mark Crusaders’ project, a little something he had helped cook up. Roseluck had no idea that Carnegie had taken the three silly fillies to his brewery, where they would borrow some of his equipment and receive some lessons in brewery.
They made sure to stop by Dinky’s stand first. Like Carnegie had guess, Time Turner had helped his daughter with her project. Carnegie knew so because it was a miniature portal between two cages. A mouse would occasionally scurry through the portal and pop out in the cage on the other side of the desk. The two couples chatted for a bit, reminiscing about old adventures.
Then Carnegie and Rose said goodbye and moved along.
They reached the Crusaders’ stand, which was covered with a giant tarp which (to Carnegie’s amusement) was the same color of his coat. Princess Twilight Sparkle, Applejack, Rarity, Rainbow Dash, and some fellow that Carnegie knew as the town’s ghost hunter, Shudderbones.
“Well howdy, Rose! Howdy, Porter.” Applejack greeted them, hugging Carnegie. Shudderbones nodded at him, and he nodded back respectively. Carnegie knew the tall unicorn and his marefriend the farmer because of business; they were the most local producers of grains and products that Carnegie used to make his various alcoholic beverages. Rarity noticed Rose and Porter, and made a beeline for them.
“Rose, darling, thank you ever so much for watching the girls for us.”
“Oh it was no problem at all, Rarity. Anytime!”
The mares began to chat, and Carnegie took that as his cue to find somepony else to converse with. Rainbow Dash was busy talking to some colt wearing a Wonderbolts cape. Shudderbones was standing directly at Applejack’s side, the obedient coltfriend type. Carnegie decided that the necromancer was a bit too intimidating and boring to talk to. So he sidled over to speak with the Princess.
“Top o’ tha’ mornin’, Princess.” He bowed low, smiling up at the purple Alicorn. She shook her head.
“No need to bow. And please, call me Twilight.”
“Sure thing, Princess. I mean, Twilight.”
“So I heard you helped the girls with their science fair project.” Carnegie detected a hint of jealousy. Maybe she been looking forward to helping them?
He knew that she was their tutor, they had made a point to brag about it.
“Oh yeah, jus’ a lil’ somefin we whipped up at tha last minute.”
He heard hissing coming from behind the tarp. He turned his head slightly and saw Sweetie Belle sticking her head out from under it.
“Psst! Mister Porter, we need you to help us real quick!”
“Sure thing, Sweetie. Excuse me, Princess.” Twilight nodded as he swooped down and scrambled under the tarp, unnoticed by anypony but the Princess.
“We think the pressurizer is broken.”
“Why’s tha’?”
“It’s making funny hissing noises.”
“Tha’s normal, Sweetie.” Carnegie informed her, studying the bulky bucket-shaped machine. It was indeed hissing, releasing steam. “Tha’s so tha brew doesn’ get too frothy. Too much froth makes for bad texture. Remember?”
“Oh yeah.”
By then, Scootaloo and Apple Bloom had joined them. Together, the four pulled off the giant tarp to reveal the brass brewing boilers and pipes, draining a mysterious brown liquid into the pressurizer and carbonator. The mares gasped and Shudderbones was suddenly looking at Carnegie murderously. Carnegie knew they thought it was making alcohol. Carnegie tried his best to avoid the necromancer’s evil eye, as the Cutie Mark Crusaders performed their presentation.
“Our project is on FERMENTATION!” Sweetie Belle called. Several ponies began to mill about their stand, looking at the brass instruments curiously.
“Now, first we’d start with vanilla sugar and wintergreen!” Scootaloo announced, placing a sack of yellowish sugar and a bushel of green leaves on the table. Apple Bloom picked them up and began to put both in a mixing bowl, like Carnegie had taught her.
“Now, we’re gonna add some molasses!” Apple Bloom poured a generous amount of the thick syrup into the bowl, which Scootaloo began to mix. When it was thoroughly mixed, Sweetie and Scootaloo lifted the large bowl together to put it in the boiler, which was already filled with steaming water. “Now we put in ‘bout four pounds of the mix inta five gallons of boiling water. Then we add a bit of corn syrup” - Apple Bloom did so as she spoke - “and then we seal up the boiler!”
With a loud hiss, the boiler sealed off and began to whistle, extra steam pouring out of the thin pipe jutting out of the top.
“Now, we open the valve down here and let it go through this pipe into the fermenter. There’s ale yeast in there that’ll ferment it. Normally, that takes a day or so. But Sweetie Belle here learned a spell to speed up that.” Sweetie Belle bowed and Scootaloo opened the valve to start up the fermenter. Sweetie Belle’s horn began to glow and the fermenter started to glow as well. Then Scootaloo spoke up while Sweetie strained to keep her magic working.
“When that’s done, we let it through the pipe into the pressurizer and the carbonator; to give it that fizziness, to improve the texture. After that, we can spurt it into these bottles and put it through the taste test.”
Moments later, the two machines let off a ding, and the Crusaders started pulling the tap. They filled every bottle up to the brim with a light brown fizzy drink.
“And that’s how ya brew root beer!”
Carnegie swore he could hear a collective sigh of relief coming from the Crusader’s sisters. He chuckled to himself as Rose suddenly flushing, having stared at him in shock throughout the presentation. Ponies began to stomp in applause. The Crusaders handed out bottles to ponies, and gave them to the judges of the fair, Cheerilee and Mrs. Harshwhinny.
Carnegie trotted down to his marefriend.
“‘Ow was tha’ fer a science fair?” He smirked.
Roseluck began to laugh, a beautiful, tinkling sound in his opinion.
“That was amazing, Carnegie. Did you teach them how to do that?”
“I did.”
“Really?”
“What?! I thought you said you hated foals.” Now she was smirking.
“Nah, I don’ hate ‘em. I jus’ really dislike them.” He looked over at the Crusaders, who were busy making a second batch of root beer for more and more ponies who stopped by.
“But those three are a bit different.”
Later, Mrs. Harshwhinny announced the winner of the science fair.
Dinky Hooves stood proudly between her gushing mother and grinning father. Derpy and Time Turner were holding up the blue ribbon while ponies cheered. Carnegie was glad she had won, even if it was a bit disappointing that his root beer recipe didn’t win the first prize.
Second place and the red ribbon went to the Crusaders. Applejack, Shudderbones, and Apple Bloom stood to one side. Rarity and Sweetie Belle to another. Scootaloo and Rainbow Dash in the center. Cheerilee gave each of them a red ribbon. Carnegie beamed up at them. He’d be having a celebratory drink later. Maybe some alcoholic root beer.
After the third place announcement had been made, Mrs. Harshwhinny and Cheerilee congratulated the winners. Then Cheerilee stood alone at the mic.
“Now, a certain somepony wishes to make an announcement to his very special somepony.” She winked at Carnegie, who got up from the front row and leapt upon the stage. He trotted up to the microphone. He wasn’t one for being stagefright. He looked down at Roseluck, who was going pale. He grinned warmly at her.
“Now, Rose. I hope ya remember what ya told me, before when I was worried ‘bout foalsittin’ those fillies. Ya said ya wanted ta get married. Start a family. An’ tha’ these foal-sittin’ sessions were a test, to see if I was ready for tha’ kinda commitment. An’ look at this, those fillies had an incredible project. I meself couldn’ be prouder of tha lil’ knuckleheads.
“I dunno what ya think, but I’m pretty sure that means I’m ready. So, Roseluck, without further ado…”
He paused for dramatic effect. He could hear the ponies filling the rows in front of the stage wait in bated breath for what he was about to ask. He saw Rose suddenly flush red again, almost turning the same color as her mane.
“Will ya marry me?”
Again, the entire fair was silent as Roseluck gulped and walked up. She leapt upon the stage in the same fashion that Carnegie had. She had tears in her eyes, but she was smiling more brightly than he had ever seen her smile before.
“Oh, Carns… yes.”
With that, she flung her forelegs around him and kissed him, her lips mashed against his. The crowd began to stomp in applause once again. Carnegie heard Scootaloo gagging to the side, but he didn’t care. Eventually, they broke apart. They smiled at each other and then at the Crusaders. Scootaloo, Sweetie Belle, and Apple Bloom smiled brightly.
Carnegie Porter found he didn’t hate foals.
He didn’t even dislike them.
In fact, he couldn’t wait until he and Rose had foals of their own.