Punchdrunk Promenade

by Chapter 17

Daring Dancing Declaration

“Heeeee we’re finally here!” Poppy said happily as they stood together waiting for the Pony Prom prep to finish up before the attendees would be allowed in.

“It’s been like… two days since you asked me? I don’t think that’s long enough to warrant ‘finally’,” Chappy pointed out, looking around in a slightly less than completely calm manner at the crowd of ponies around them.

“Oh hush you… oh that reminds me again!”

“Wait no-geh!” he exclaimed as another hair gel covered hoof reinforced his swept back mane. “What do you see in this manestyle anyway? I look like a torn eared Filthy Rich.”

“I see a mature, sophisticated stallion who could pass for a Con Mane actor if he would get some contacts, or maybe a suave business pony if he doesn’t,” she answered with a half lidded smile.

“So first the transition lenses, then the mane, and now contacts? What next, do I need to change my name to something more debonair?” Chappy asked facetiously.

…

“You know Chapter Seventeen isn’t really a name now that I think of it,” Poppy replied with a thoughtful hoof placed on her chin.

“What,” he said with something of a deadpan frown.

“No, really, think about it! You could be called something clever but still book related like… Poignant Quill… or Steadfast Binding… or Voluminous Epic! I should introduce you as one of those tonight, ponies would love it!” Poppy continued, meandering around a daydream… at night. "Ooh what about Silken Tome?!"

”Isn’t really a name. You just actually said that,“ he repeated while his frown grew a bit more severe.

"Well no I mean…it’s just some ordinary part of a book and then a number. That’s not a name, it’s a…thing!” she elaborated.

“There’s a pony back there called Dibbly Doop,” he countered while pointing back to the rear of the line. “I only know that because he shouts it every time he meets somepony.”

“HI THERE, I’M DIBBLY DOOP, THE DIBBLIEST AND DOOPINEST!” shouted the stallion in question right on cue.

“And that’s not even the wierdest name I’ve ever heard, but they’re all still names. You don’t get to just point at one you don’t like and go ‘that’s not a name, because reasons.’ And I would’ve hoped you’d have asked me out here so insistently because you wanted to go out and do something together withme and not some idea of me you formed while reading dime novel romances,” Chappy continued pointedly, glaring a hole through his marefriend’s face in a rare showing of open anger.

Poppy took half a step back, her expression faltering as her ears lowered. “If…if it’s about the mane-”

He sighed. “No it’s not the mane, or the tuxedo, or the prom. In fact despite my reservations I’m thankful for the help because what the hay do I know about fancy dress and looking good? What’s ticking me off is all of this ‘let’s pretend you’re some stallion I’m into just for tonight so other ponies will be impressed’ talk. What if I was taking you to see my family, and started suggesting things that you should do to make yourself look like something I wanted you to be, or started thinking up names that were more ‘presentable’ than Poppy Crafts?”

"But I wasn’t trying to do that at all. I just wanted you to know what it feels like to be popular and well liked by ponies for once…it really feels good Chappy,” she countered.

“To you. If I had that kind of popularity from a bunch of ponies I’d never met, I would have no idea what to do with it. I’m not the sort of pony to actively seek that out. If I just so happen to find it, okay, sure, but I’m not going to force it because that just feels wierd. We didn’t force us, and I’m not going to force finding friends either,” he replied before a pegasus stallion with coral red coat, a well styled cyan mane with matching colored eyes, and an expensive looking tuxedo landed between them.

"Hey Poppy, this creep giving you trouble?” he asked over his shoulder while giving the grey unicorn a threatening sidelong stare. Chappy looked to him, then to Poppy, then to the surrounding ponies who had immediately started giving him severe looks of disapproval for his apparent harassing of a poor mare as his ears lowered. Poppy immediately became indignant at the stallion standing between them.

“He’s not a creep, he’s my boyfriend, and he’s not giving me trouble, we’re having a discus-oh my gosh Cirrus Blazer! I haven’t seen you in forever!” she said with glee as she recognized him and immediately gave him a warm hug.

"Nice to see you too,” Blazer said, smiling down at her before she let him go and took her place by Chappy’s side again. “It has been a while hasn’t it?”

“Yeah! Not since junior year!” she confirmed with a nod.

“And this is… ?” Chappy interjected.

“Oh, right! Chappy, this is Cirrus Blazer. The two of us met freshman year and he was my best friend at school for a good long while, then life happened and we sort of drifted apart. But it looks like you’re doing well for yourself,” she replied, ending her explanation by turning back to her old friend.

“Heh, yeah can’t complain. Cloudsdale’s opening a new weather factory to meet demand and you’re lookin’ at the new general manager. It’s a tough job but I’m a tough stallion, and my mare Thunder Crackle over there is worth it.” He pointed over to a blue coated pegasus mare with a long red mane and blonde highlights who spotted the gesture and waved at them from her place in line. After returning the wave he turned back, applying a more critical eye to the slightly shorter unicorn stallion his high school friend was apparently dating.

“So you’re the Chappy?”

"What do you mean the?” he asked with a curious tilt of his head.

"Well Poppy here talked about you a lot at high school, but none of us ever saw you until now. From the way she spoke about you I was expecting somepony a little taller… maybe a little more fit looking… with better eyesight… who did his mane a little better-”

“In my defense I wasn’t the one who styled my-”

”-and took responsibility for himself or something. But that’s cool. I’ll see you both later tonight, my mare is waiting,” he said, turning away from him without so much as an offer of a hoof shake and taking off.

“Oh wow that’s so neat! I was just wondering what he’s been up to the other day, and now speak of the devil! Or... think of the devil I guess. I bet there’s a friend or two of yours from school here you could catch up with too!” Poppy said optimistically, but her boyfriend didn’t seem too receptive to the idea.

“Nope. By the end of high school I had only three friends and they all kicked me out because their marefriends didn’t like me before they moved away and haven’t talked to me since, remember?” he reminded her.

“Oh… right,” she replied a little less enthusiastically.

…

“So uh where were we?” Poppy asked now that the distraction from their earlier conversation had gone.

“I said I’m not forcing finding friends because it feels weird,” he repeated for her.

“Right, thank you! Um… what you call ‘forcing finding friends’ is kind of just called ‘meeting other ponies’ by the rest of us,” she clarified.

“Really? Because the whole thing feels like it has an inherent objective, so it’s just a salespony pitch only instead of money you’re dealing in social validation.”

“…” She blinked. “You are thinking way too deep into this. All you have to do is put yourself out there. Say hi to ponies, see who you gravitate to, see who repels you, and soon enough you have a circle of nice ponies to spend the prom with. It’s fun!”

"Okay… so I’m at the first step already then.”

“Hrm?”

“I’m out here, aren’t I?” he pointed out.

Her eyes diverted to the side for a moment, but then met his gaze again as she smiled. “Yeah… I guess you are.”

…

“Maybe I’ve been a bit... pushy about all this,” she confessed, her smile turning a bit sheepish. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine. You crossed the line a little bit, but it was only a little bit and I understand why you did it. Your having to stay in so much just because I’m such a shut in isn’t fair to you,” he added with an understanding nod before Poppy stepped forward and nuzzled him reassuringly.

"Well it’s alright now. I’m out here with my Chappy, and I love it,” she beamed before stepping back a bit out of the affectionate gesture. “So we’re okay? You’re alright to do this?”

“Yeah, I think I’ll manage,” he answered confidently. “Felt good getting that out.”

“Great! Now, give me the flask you hid in your coat pocket,” she said as she held out her hoof.

Chappy let out a grumbling sigh and reluctantly levitated a small flask of Neighmeson brand whiskey out of his pocket and placed it in her hoof.

“Now give me the second flask you hid in your inner coat pocket because you knew I’d ask for the first,” Poppy said after depositing the first flask beneath her wing.

“Seriously?!” he retorted as he dutifully brought out another similar flask, caught red hoofed.

“Thank you…now give me the third you hid because you knew I’d know about the first two,” she said after depositing the second beneath her other wing.

"Augh!” he lamented, producing a third flask as anticipated. “Okay, fine. You have all the booze I tried sneaking in, can we just get on with it now?” he asked with quite the grumpy tone.

“Sure!”

…

“Just as soon as you give me the fourth flask you hid because you were hoping I wouldn’t think you were crazy enough to actually bring four flasks to the prom,” she continued with hoof still outstretched.

“Oh come on now. Four? Where would I even hide four?”

She did not budge, waiting patiently.

“There were only two inner pockets, where would I even hide a fourth?”

The cream colored hoof made a small waving gesture to hurry him along.

“Are you seriously suggesting I sewed in a third just for that purpose? Do you really think I’d go to such elaborate measures just for a nip of booze for tonight?”

…

…

…

“I hate you,” he growled moodily as a fourth flask emerged from his coat. She simply took the last bit of booze in hoof then giggled before kissing his cheek and stashing the confiscated alcohol into the small, much fancier looking saddlebag she’d brought along that night.

———

"Wow you’re a pretty good dancer for not getting out much!” Poppy shouted, trying to be heard over the music that was pumping out of the sound system at the far end of the dance floor.

“Thanks! I grew up in a messy house so you learn to keep your balance just to move around quickly! I also followed your lead a bit!” Chappy replied,

“HEY! THAT STALLION’S DANCING LIKE A MARE!” came some random stallion’s mocking voice from the edge of the crowd.

“I mean I’m following his lead!” Chappy immediately diverted as he looked over at a nearby dancing stallion who seemed to know what he was doing, adjusting his technique accordingly.

"OH NEVER MIND HE’S NOT ANYMORE,” his detractor corrected with due respect before moving on with his life.

“I bet all those quarters spent on Prance Prance Revolution machines helped!” she teased.

“Nah, putting your hooves on six pads in sequence can only help so much with actual dancing!”

“But what about those ponies I saw busting a move at those tournaments?!” she asked, moving beside him and giving him a playful hip bump.

“Those moves they’re busting aren’t strictly necessary to get a perfect score in game! It’s a performance to impress judges, they’re doing all that crazy stuff on top of getting a perfect score! You have to already be an awesome actual dancer to pull that off!” he explained. “Why are we talking about this right now instead of waiting for something a bit more quiet to play?!”

"It’s DJ-Pon3, when do you think it’ll get quiet?!”

“Good point!”

“We should go to one of those tournaments!”

“What?!” he asked, putting a hoof next to his ear.

“I said we should go to see one of those Prance Prance Revolution tournaments together!” Poppy repeated a bit louder.

“I don’t know, there are no big arcades in Ponyville, and finding out where one will be hosting one and when might be…” Chappy stopped himself and was silent for a moment, earning a curious tilt of Poppy’s head before he smiled at her. “You know what?! We’ll go to one!”

“Yeah?!” she asked, returning the smile.

“Yeah!”

“Yay!” she cheered with a flap of the wings that briefly sent her into the air, leaving her to readjust her dress and then giggle a bit just as the music faded down. The groan of a familiar DJ was soon to follow.

“Okay so, apparently I’m contractually obligated to play slow songs tonight or something. Here’s the first one. If I’ve gone into a coma before it ends, somepony wake me up,” the white coated unicorn sneered before putting a new record on the turn table, muttering about how ponies should feel lucky that her rent was due before shrugging off a nasty look from the event coordinator.

There was an assortment of soft chuckles through the audience before the slow romantic track started playing. Partners were quickly chosen, leaving an assortment of stallions and mares who either had to wait their turn or go without entirely to excuse themselves from the dance floor for a few minutes. There would obviously be no such departure for Chappy or Poppy though.

“So have you ever slow danced before?” she asked, the lower volume of the music letting her get away with a voice only slightly louder than casual conversation. Chappy looked around at the more experience dance attendees and quickly surmised there wasn’t much to it at all.

“Nope, but something tells me I’ll manage,” he replied confidently before offering his hoof, which she accepted happily. As it turned out, the grey unicorn could in fact manage to coordinate with her to maintain a slow rotational movement whilst they held one another in the moonlight and got a few minutes where everypony else seemingly faded, leaving them alone together amongst the crowd. The mare quietly reveled in finally being out doing something fun with the pony she cared about so deeply, and for once in his life the stallion mentally looked away from the disastrous outcomes he was always imagining.

As wonderful as it was… every song has an end.