• Published 20th Oct 2013
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Steakeos - Mike Teavee



Idle chitchat between Discord and Lero from the Xenophilia world

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Steakeos

FOREWORD BY MIKE TEAVEE

Hi, everyone! This is yet another idea from the brain of Southpaw, which he gave me permission to post here for your viewing pleasure! It takes place within the Divided Rainbow universe, at some vague point in time after the events of Chapter Sixteen.

Excluding the epilogue. The epilogue’s an idea I wrote, inspired by an e-mail SpinelStride sent, which I expanded upon. Please enjoy!

Oh, and before I forget: big thanks to WolfeTrax and SpinelStride! And of course, to Nabisco, for making the #1 top-selling cookie in America.


“You know,” Lero said casually as he nibbled on a steak-flavored Oreo, “it’s just KILLED me for the longest time who you reminded me of, and then I FINALLY realized; you’re Q!” He pointed an accusing cookie at Discord, which seemed fitting in immediate retrospect.

The draconequus looked thoughtful for a moment, smacking his lips and looking at his Oreo with severe distaste. “Bah! This is too well-done! I’m not supposed to be bringing chaos to myself! Only to you,” he said, flinging his strange arms wide to encompass the entire world, and tossing several dark cookies for miles in the process.

Miles away, in several directions, the distraction of nearly super-sonic Steak-Flavored Oreo cookies blasted through the air.

One squarely nailed and bent a lamppost next to a young couple who were quietly and nervously making out – the only place they could find to be alone and away from their horrible siblings and nosey parents who only wanted them to clean their rooms and remain Not Pregnant – and blew out the inconvenient streetlight next to them in the process.

After a full 0.5 seconds’ deliberation, biology chose to have them ignore the event and continue on, happy for the increased privacy. The resulting foal would, in much later years, rise to the highest ranks of the government judiciary system in Canterlot, positively affecting the lives of millions of ponies throughout Equestria for decades to come with his humble and dedicated service. He also had a very odd and well-known fixation for cookies and lampposts, for some reason.

Another cookie buried itself two feet deep into a farmer’s prize – and extremely rare and hard to grow – tulip field. While the impact and resulting kinetic energy destroyed half of his rather small crop, he discovered the next year that tulips grown within a 100 foot radius of the impact grew astoundingly beautiful and large and healthy. And they tasted AMAZING in a way that most ponies could not identify.

The farmer – a rather shrewd pony – soon saw the opportunity of a lifetime, and made an absolute killing selling the bulbs from these hardy flowers. While the resulting crops gleaned from the flowers were not as good as the originals, they were still remarkable, and years later the land saw a boom and bust of stock-like trade in tulips that rocked the finances of all Equestria, nearly causing a complete economic collapse of the nation before the Princesses stepped in and restored order from the chaos.

Yet another flew through an open window, thudded into a pillow, and was promptly eaten by a young filly whose cutie mark appeared moments later, an exact perfect picture of an Oreo cookie standing on edge and viewed at an angle.

She would spend the rest of her life searching for that perfect flavor, winning distinguished awards – and a great deal of money – for her works in the field of cookie baking. But ultimately she would never be satisfied.

Until one fateful day in a restaurant, she would be served a cut of steak by complete accident, and being the adventurous sort, she tried it... and the next day, sold her business, trademarks, and the full rights to all of her ideas, and retired to an island, quite wealthy and happily importing various cuts of steaks which she could eat without remorse or the annoying shameful looks from other ponies.

“Anyway, what were you blathering on about, my dear ape?” Discord flipped an Oreo into the air with the claw of his thumb, spinning it into a pale dark sphere with perfect precision into his mouth.

Lero scowled and paused in mid-bite, the taste of succulent beef juice pouring down his throat.

“Yes yes, fine. I know of this ‘Q’,” Discord said, crunching happily on his New York Strip Oreo, “I’ve MET him! Excellent chap, though perhaps a bit less adorably chaotic and handsome than myself.”

A half-eaten filet mignon-flavored cookie fell from Lero’s hand. “You’ve MET him?” The human’s tone and look said it all: You are truly INSANE, and is there a snowball’s chance in Hell for me to run away from an actual demigod fast enough to avoid being turned into a newt?

No. Discord’s own tone and look answered back. Deal with it.

“Q’s a TV character!” Lero protested aloud. “He’s completely fictional!”

“Oh my DEAR monkey! No no no no no no! No no! NO. You must encompass the idea – as much as it may make your monkey head spin – oh DO stop spinning your head like that! Oh, that was me. Sorry. Anyway, THIS Universe, my Dear Sweet Ape, is merely one among many infinite possibilities, ALL of which include every thought, every IDEA ever thought and explored and played with throughout the universes those possibilities represent. So SOMEWHERE out there—”

...And he flung more cookies out into the Great Beyond, thus arbitrarily positively and negatively effecting the lives of millions of gryphons thousands of miles away for generations to come...

“—is a universe or universes inhabited by unfortunate pansy starship captains with an unhealthy fixation for conferences in the middle of emergency situations, as well as quite dashing immortal demigods who – however dashing – have chosen most unfortunately to look like YOU. Personally I don’t see the draw.”

Munch, munch, swallow.

Lero sat stunned, an un-bitten Oreo cookie held in place halfway to his open mouth.

“You going to eat that?” Discord asked, quite seriously.

Lero closed his mouth and handed over the cookie.

EPILOGUE

As much as Lero Michaelides loved his mares, it was refreshing to give himself a bit of ‘me-time,’ unaccompanied by any of his family... an entire hour all to himself! It was all part of the fun... he always enjoyed coming to eat at this particular place wherever he visited Canterlot!

The smell of roasting meat hit Lero’s nose the moment he entered Gia’s Beef Pit. A restaurant that served real burgers, real ribs, and real steak! Few things could make him feel more human again... which was ironic, since Gia’s was a griffon’s restaurant.

He still got stares from griffon customers eating at their booths and tables, as well as the waitstaff, but Lero had long since grown used to not paying it much mind. To feast upon this kind of food was a rare pleasure, indeed! He’d purposefully not eaten breakfast so he could enjoy a full platter.

For ponies, a place like Gia’s was practically an ogre’s den; its smells ghastly, the sight of cow muscle chunks being devoured were nothing short of stomach-turning. The well-circulated knowledge that Lero visited places like this, even once in a blue moon, was what still kept so many ponies in fear of him.

To hell with them all! Today, he’d be getting back in touch with his carnivorous side, his inner caveman, back from a victorious hunt!

He ordered a sixteen-ounce rare steak the moment his waiter came by, and settled back, enjoying his surroundings. And there was an element of fun, watching griffons consume food. Beaks did not allow for chewing, so instead, they used knives to slice their meat up into small-sized pieces, (uncouth griffons would use their claws,) and then gulp them down. A couple griffins even recognized who Lero was, and came over to his table to chat.

At last, Lero’s meal arrived, still sizzling and steaming on its platter. Lero bent over and filled his nostrils with the aroma... ahhh, divine! What a kindness of God Almighty’s design that humans could chew their food... work it over, so that this delightful thing could dance upon his tongue longer than it would upon a griffon's, morsel by morsel. He cut himself a square, and popped it in his mouth.

To his immense bafflement, while the texture of the meal was properly beefy, the flavor his taste buds reported back to his brain was that of a distinctly recognizable sweet creme. Sandwiched between two chocolatey cookies.

And in Lero’s head, unheard by anyone else, laughter rang. Laughter that could’ve just as easily come from the throat of John de Lancie as Discord the draconequus.