The Punch Bowl

by Brony Tom

1: The Bar

'My Little Pony' belongs to Hasbro

Swish, swish, swish, went the rag, it's squeaking reminiscent of an old, creaky door's hinges. The purple pony wielding it polished the worn oak tables, her head bowed in a rare moment of candidness. Everything about the dimly-lit hall emanated a homely, lazy atmosphere, from the rustic lanterns to the warm, low-burning stone fireplace. The building wasn't even hooked up to the electrical grid. The largest contributor to that heavy feeling, however, was probably the large rack of beverages lined up against one wall.

Most of them were intoxicating.

Berry Punch finished cleaning in preparation for the evening rush. She picked herself up, straightening her posture and squaring her shoulders. Her figure was pleasantly full (but not fat, she told herself) and of average height, her sleek, magenta mane falling down her neck haphazardly in a way that she couldn't reproduce if she tried to comb it. She was still fairly young, not much older than she needed to be to legally drink.

Berry performed a perfunctory scan of the bar's interior. Everything was ready for the influx of ponies. She allowed a final sigh to escape her lips as she plodded towards the plain oak double doors that opened into the town. Composing herself, she plastered on her customary friendly smile and unlocked the door. Immediately, half a dozen eager ponies barged in, vying for seats at the table in the far back corner; it was the most popular spot aside from the bar itself, as there was a cozy little alcove that sheltered the occupants from the rest of the hall.

As usual, Rainbow Dash beat out her competitors and claimed the table with victorious whoops, the former hopefuls grumbling and settling in elsewhere around the room. Berry recognized each of them; Rainbow Dash, obviously, was Ponyville's weather mare, and the fastest pony Berry knew. Lyra played a lovely tune on the harp, and she clung closely to her friend, Bon-bon. Also present were Aloe and Lotus, the Spa ponies; their business day wrapped up earlier than most, so they almost always came in just at the bar's opening each evening. Lastly, trotting in slowly, came Screwball. She was widely known as runner-up to Pinkie Pie for kookiest pony in Ponyville, always dreaming up some scheme for giggles and gags. Berry could honestly never figure out where Screwball got her money from, as the loopy pony had never been observed to work at a job.

The bartender trotted behind the counter and glanced at the large grandfather clock standing opposite the room near the front entrance; only six o'clock, still eight hours to go. She checked the calendar hanging underneath the counter, days past crossed out with red X's. Three full rows were crossed off, in addition to five boxes of the last. Berry sighed; the last Friday of the month was always the rowdiest, what with ponies' paychecks arriving.

The purple earth pony retrieved the mop from the back closet, so that it was available at a moment's notice. She knew better than to be unprepared for the surge of ponies consuming alcohol; not only did they have a disturbingly high tendency to disgorge the contents of their stomachs, but they were also reliably aggressive. More than once Berry had had to fend off would-be suitors and even break up the occasional bar fight. She'd come to think of herself as something of a mop-ninja over the years, flourishing the everyday cleaning instrument in graceful and concussion-inducing sweeps. She'd been in training since her youth, or so she thought, working as the bouncer while her mother still owned the Punch Bowl.

Berry shivered at the thought of her mother, so she shut the imagery out of her mind. She felt bad enough already, without the memories weighing her down.

The first customer of the night approached the bar; it was Rainbow Dash, of course. The rainbow pegasus just had to be first at everything. It made Berry's breath quicken, accumulated frustration leaking through her facade.

“Heya, Berry! Just get me the usual,” enthused the weather pony.

“Coming right up!” Berry promised with a half-smile. She turned and browsed through the rows and rows of drinks, finally settling on some Sweet Apple Acres cider. A mug full of the golden drink in her hoof, the purple earth pony returned to the waiting pegasus, who had an eager glint in her eye. The mare behind the counter slid the glass to the blue pony, receiving in its place the empty-sounding clattering of bits being tossed down.

“Thanks a bunch, Berry!” blurted Dash before taking a huge gulp of the frothy cider. Letting out a satisfied sigh, Rainbow let the mug clank on the old wood of the bar. “You know, it's almost as good as when it's right out of the press. Almost.”

“Yeah, I hear that a lot,” commented Berry, her voice momentarily betraying the facade she wore. “Their cider loses something when it sits around. There's just something about it's freshness that can't be preserved.”

The blue pony cocked her head inquisitively.

“Hey, are you okay, Berry?” asked Rainbow, her voice losing the aggressive, tomboyish edge it normally exuded. “You seem kinda... off. Is something up?”

The bartender shook her head and began moving on to the other customers. Over her shoulder, she replied “No, no, I'm just fine. Thank you, though.”

Dash looked like she wanted to press the issue, but upon hearing a familiar, quiet voice call her name she shrugged and flew off to meet her friend. There was a group, actually; they were almost always together. The six of them seemed to be at the heart of every disaster, mishap, and noteworthy event in the town. Berry and several other ponies had taken to referring to them as the Mane Six, since they were the six most well known ponies in Ponyville. The bartender couldn't help but sneak a jealous glance at the group chatting at the door before putting on a big, fake smile and addressing the next pony.

Berry Punch had dealt with a lot of strange-looking ponies in her time, but this one took the cake. She was wearing a full cloak that obscured her entire body, as well as a wide-brimmed hat that made her face difficult to observe from the shade it cast. The only reason Berry could even tell that the pony was a mare was by the proportions of her body.

“I'll have, uh, three hard ciders, please. To go.” The mare's voice was off-putting, like somepony trying to sound completely different than their usual voice. On top of that, the bartender couldn't help but pick up on the obvious tone of nervousness that pervaded the pony's speech.

“I'm sorry, ma'am, but I don't offer carry-out,” replied Berry. She frowned, obviously unhappy with having to deal with a stranger that exuded red flags like this one. On a hunch, she decided to throw out a line and see if she could get a bite, if only to resolve the mess faster. “You shouldn't be afraid of having a drink in here, right? Unless you had something to hide, of course.” She threw in a sarcastic chuckle for extra effect.

“Oh no, no, we- I don't have anything to hide, nope! It'll be fine, I'll just have a seat over there,” said the mysterious mare, pointing to an area that was already full of ponies.

Berry Punch groaned and cradled her head in her hooves for a moment. Without warning, she reached out and snatched the giant hat from the mare's head. When the purple pony saw Scootaloo's sheepish grin, she scowled.

“Yeah, I thought so,” said Berry, “your disguise was pretty bad. Are Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom down there, too?” A pair of yelps confirmed her query. She leaned over the counter and looked the little orange filly right in the eyes. “Look, girls, I don't have time for your shenanigans. I ought to- you know what? I- I'm not even mad. Just- just go.”

Scootaloo sighed, and the conglomerate of fillies inside the cloak dispersed as they headed for the door.

“Shucks, and we were so close, too,” Apple Bloom mumbled as the three fillies departed.

Berry turned to look at the entrance, where a steady stream of ponies were now trotting gaily into the bar. Next to them, the clock read five minutes after six. It was going to be a long night.

===

Berry rushed back and forth, filling out the orders of the initial customers, who had crowded around the bar in the same old way. She had gone through this exact same routine hundreds, if not thousands of times before. There was always a huge commotion during the first half-hour, when most ponies got off of work. Many would stop by for a drink or two before heading home from work, and those who did constituted a considerable fraction of Ponyville's workforce.

The hubbub of thirsty ponies clamoring for respite dropped to a buzz, giving Berry a few moments to catch her breath. She glanced at the clock; three minutes to seven. She could already feel her shoulders slumping and her head drooping; the bartender had no idea how she could possibly make it through the evening without collapsing from sheer... whatever it was she was feeling. Not-wellness? Berry couldn't pin down a name for it, and didn't feel like trying very hard.

Her attention was caught by the familiar sound of breaking glass. Every eye within hearing distance turned to look, and saw the town's librarian wearing a sheepish grin as some kind of beverage leaked over the floor from a nearby broken bottle. Berry took a deep, steadying breath as she hefted the mop and a bucket of soapy water in her mouth and went to go clean up the mess in the back corner of the bar. As the purple earth pony was approaching, she heard a few snippets of the conversations going on around her.

“You know, Lyra, you're really not so bad,” said one blue stallion. Berry only recognized him by his cutie mark, a pair of black music notes. “Maybe we should set aside our rivalry, start up a band.”

“Hey, I kind of like that idea! Maybe we could even get Vinyl involved...”

“So, Big Macintosh, I heard that you had a record apple harvest this season. Is it true?” asked Miss Cheerilee.

“Eeyup.”

“...Mr. Macintosh, I have a question. Is 'eeyup' the only word you know how to say?”

“Eeyup.”

A chorus of chuckling faded as Berry moved on. The barkeep's stony face slid from grimly neutral to simply neutral as she continued on, the leaden, sagging gait lessening its grip on her.

The Mane Six sat around the corner table, casting brief glances at Berry Punch as she came closer. A sudden knot twisted its way into the Berry's stomach as she closed the last bit of distance between her and the six mares. She set down the bucket as gently as she could, but even so there was a little bit that splashed out onto the floor. Despite being not even being a minor inconvenience, the spill elevated the purple mare's frustration a level. Berry took the mop in her hooves and expertly wiped up the mess, manipulating the glass shards into a small pile.

“Great job, Twi. The one time this week that we all have the evening free, and you just had to go and spill the drinks,” snarked Rainbow Dash.

“Hey!” protested the accused Twilight, a few shots of alcohol slurring her voice just a bit. “I was trying not to use my magic, like the card said.” The librarian emphasized the words by holding up a small card in her hooves, one that was similar to others spread across the table. Depicted on the card was a small image of a unicorn horn with a large red X over it, beneath which were two small bottle icons.

Berry Punch finished wiping up the liquid half of the mess, and so set the bucket of soap, alcohol, and water off to the side. All the while she kept her head down, trying to keep her presence at a minimum. Not only that, but also she hoped to give the impression that she wasn't trying to keep to herself. It was a relatively easy task, she thought; simply stay silent, and put a near supernatural focus on the task at hoof. Maybe they wouldn't notice.

“Anyway, I'm really sorry about the spill, Merry- I mean, Berry. Hee hee, I think I've had a little too much to drink,” tittered Twilight. “I hope it's not too much trouble.”

“Sheesh, you have like, zero tolerance. I suppose I should expect that from an egghead.”

“Really, Rainbow, you're being quite harsh on dear Twilight. She's only a mare, after all,” interjected Rarity, her horn aglow as a crystal glass of vintage wine levitated to her lips. The white pony took a sip before continuing. “Berry, darling, I beg you forgive us for this horrible mess. Pinkie insisted that we try this 'drinking game,' as she called it. I don't fully understand-”

“Oh, but you see, Rarity, it's actually super-duper easy-peasy! You just draw a card, and do what it says, and other cards will modify your cards, which might modify other ponies' cards, which might modify the modifying cards, maybe even modify the modifying of the modifying cards, and whenever you mess up, you have to drink! It's loads of fun!” Pinkie Pie blurted out.

Everypony's expression fell flat as their attention was drawn back to the world insulated inside the corner. Berry took advantage of the situation to dodge out with the glass shards safely nestled in the bucket. Why she always felt so tense in the presence of the Six was something that bothered her, especially since they were such an inclusive and lovable group.

Setting down the mop in its familiar place behind the counter, Berry grumbled and disposed of the contents of the bucket. She trotted back to the bar, just in time to be greeted by a warm, smiling face. The gray pony that it belonged to was leaning familiarly against the counter. The sight of her old friend filled Berry with a sense of warmth that she'd been sorely lacking.

“Octavia! What are you doing here? I didn't know you had a performance in town,” the purple pony gushed.

“I don't have a performance; that's probably why you didn't hear about it.” All the while, Octavia's smile remained constant, if not widening some. “I'm really just here to take a break, catch up with my childhood friends. I just arrived, and you know I couldn't resist stopping by for some of that famous Punch Bowl Punch... and maybe some other drinks as well.” The smile on Octavia's face took on a playful air.

“You always were a drunkard, you know that, Octy?” Berry teased. “If I hadn't been there to siphon off half those drinks you would've died from alcohol poisoning twice over! Matter of fact, we both should've died from alcohol poisoning anyway.” Both of their gazes glassed over, thoughts of their youth flashing in their minds.

“We were a couple of rapscallions, you know that?” murmured the musician, mocking herself and her friend good-naturedly. “The only difference between us was that you made a life out of drinking, and I actually pursued a career.”

The bartender knew this was meant as a jest, but the words cut much deeper than intended. She must have let something slip in her face, because the gray pony recoiled as if struck.

“Oh, I'm sorry, Berry. I didn't mean anything, you know I'd never make fun of you seriously.” Berry's response was a less-than-convincing smile and a nod. A frown slashed its way across Octavia's expression. “Okay, what's going on? You can't slip anything past me, I know all of your tells.”

“It's nothing, Octy, I'm just a little tired,” stammered the purple mare. Her hopes crumbled as she was treated to the famous Look of Disapproval. It was something that only her gray friend seemed to be able to pull off, combining disapproval, doubt, and disinterest in just the right amounts to lay bare anypony's deepest self. Berry had only had to suffer through it once before, thankfully enough, and she squirmed as her second go-round with the Look went equally poorly. Her salvation arrived in the form of a wooden-and-fleshy thump at the bar.

“Oh, uh, hey Berry. I hope I'm not interrupting anything too important here,” mumbled a gray pegasus, an empty mailbag slung across her back. She rubbed a hoof on her snout, the remnants of pain plainly evident on the mare's face.

“No, not at all, Derpy!” blurted Berry, anxious for an excuse to wriggle out from under Octavia's implacable gaze. She could feel the heat radiating from the suspicion in her friend's eyes, and it made her uncomfortable. “W-what can I get for you t-this evening?”

“I think I'll just have some punch, actually. Nothing alcoholic.” The mailpony's soft words were accompanied by a sheepish look.

Berry and Octavia raised a collective eyebrow at that, but nodded and retrieved some of the requested beverage. As she set down the mug, Derpy gently slid a few bits across the counter in exchange.

“Do you mind me asking why the sudden change? I mean, let's be honest, you weren't exactly a light drinker.”

Derpy turned away, shame creeping over her visage.

“I-I'm going sober.”

Berry was the first to regain her composure.

“Oh. Well. Um, I wish you the best, then. I... hope everything's okay?” inquired the barkeep.

“Yeah, things are fine. I just figured it was time to, you know, shape up.” The nervous shuffling of gray hooves was a giveaway, but neither Berry nor Octavia had the heart to pursue the matter further. With a reserved nod, the pegasus mare turned and trotted away to find a seat somewhere.

Octavia watched Derpy go, her eyebrows arched up in a confused, almost inquisitive manner.

“I go to live in Canterlot for what, two or three years, and you girls just start falling apart on me?” wondered the gray earth pony out loud. “Come on, what's going on in this little town? Please tell me Carrot Top isn't going down the tubes, too. She was the only sane one in our group.”

Berry's face wrinkled in self-conflict, although she tried not to let it show too much. After a short pause, she replied to her friend's question.

“Tell you what, Octy. I'll close up the bar a little early, and you and I can sit and talk. Sound alright?”

“Berry, that doesn't sound alright, that sounds like a plan.” Satisfied with her victory, the musician smiled and nodded. “I'll go save us a table. After you get me some cider, of course. On the rocks.”

===

Berry Punch sat at the counter, miserably tired. The clock across the room read only seventeen minutes past nine. The last hour had trudged by in an agonizingly slow, energy-sapping haze. Most of the ponies who wanted a drink or two had already gotten theirs and left. The only ponies Berry had to fetch drinks for now were the ones who planned on staying all night.

Coincidentally, this group consisted of the ponies who tended to drink the most. And that was what kept Berry busy. She would serve one pony their umpteenth refill, only to have the next wobble up to the bar right as the previous left. It was the steadiness of the whole affair that bothered her; at least with a flood of ponies or the complete lack thereof she'd have an excuse to feel sorry for herself. As it was, the constant trickle of customers afforded her no such pleasure. Serving at a leisurely pace wasn't very difficult. But still she was frustrated, the reason for which felt like it was just beyond her reach. The purple mare couldn't help but scowl inwardly at herself.

Berry was snapped out of her malaise when an unfamiliar, timid-looking pony slid the door open with such care that it hardly made a sound. The purple bartender watched as the stranger, a dark blue unicorn sporting a much lighter, almost teal-blue mane, made her way hesitantly through the room. The two locked eyes for a moment, and Berry thought she saw a look of fear flash through the mare's eyes before they were face to face, only the smooth wooden counter separating them. Berry summoned up a smile that was only half fake before greeting the newcomer.

“Hey there! I'm Berry Punch,” said the purple mare. “I don't think I've seen you around before; what can I do for you?”

“Greetings, Berry Punch. Our- My name is, uh, Starshine,” the blue unicorn replied, her voice louder and of fuller volume than Berry had thought a pony of that size could produce. “I was informed of thee- er, you by a friend, actually. They said that you provide the best drinks in all of Equestria. Is that true?”

Berry blushed profusely as she responded. “Well, I don't know if I would go that far, but I do make sure that everything I sell to my customers is of the utmost quality. Would you like to try anything in particular?”

“Well, my friend instructed me that I simply had to try thy- pardon, your- 'Punch Bowl Punch,' as she referred to it. Could I perhaps sample some of this beverege?”

The bartender's expression wrinkled into something resembling an apologetic frown.

“Well, um, you could try some,” began the purple pony, “but I only have one bottle right now, and I had been hoping to save it for a special friend of mine.” Berry winced when she saw Starshine's disappointed face. The barkeep's own countenance softened as she thought about what it might feel like to be turned down because the pony on the other end of the table was too selfish to care.

“Tell you what, Starshine,” sighed Berry, “You can have half the bottle and I'll save the other half for my friend. Fair enough?”

“Huzzah! Many thanks, dear Berry,” gushed the unicorn. “How much does one half of a bottle of thy punch cost?”

Berry pursed her lips for a moment, thinking not about the cost, which was an easy calculation, but rather about the odd way the strange mare spoke. It hadn't occurred to her until Starshine had spoken that last line, but the blue unicorn spoke with a strange, rustic accent and a matching vocabulary to boot. The bartender was certainly curious, but she could wait for a little while before satisfying that urge to know.

“Well, a whole bottle normally goes for about two hundred bits, so I'll pour you a half for one hundred.”

“That is indeed a very high price for but a draught of Punch. Why is this drink so expensive?” asked Starshine as she reached telekinetically back into her saddlebags for some bits.

“Well, you see, it's rather time- and labor-intensive to brew a bottle of Punch Bowl Punch, and I just haven't really gotten around to it recently,” admitted Berry Punch, a sheepish frown adorning her face. This was the excuse she always used for not having enough Punch Bowl Punch; it was easier to tell a little half-truth than admit that she didn't actually know the recipe, that her mother had never taught her how to make the Punch before she... left.

As she spoke, the barkeep turned and retrieved the last lonely bottle of Punch from its safe. She popped the cork off with a quick flick of her neck, a small whoosh of air escaping the glass container. With expert precision, a fine crystal glass was procured and filled to the brim with deep purple punch. The liquid was almost surreal with its clarity and intensity of color; it was like an artist had taken a paintbrush and painted a little piece of air inside the glass.

Berry waited patiently as the midnight mare began to frown and search more vigorously through her bags. A panicked look began to creep into the unicorn's eyes as she didn't find what she was looking for.

“We- we are certain that we were in possession of our purse when we left...” muttered Starshine. She lifted the saddlebags up and turned them upside down, a few possessions falling onto the floor; no coin purse was among them. The unicorn sat dejected on the floor, a soft sigh escaping her lungs. “We deeply apologize for our negligence, whereby thy valuable time was put to waste.”

Listening distantly to Starshine's apology, Berry Punch sighed and closed her eyes. She knew how it felt to have caused another inadvertent harm or loss, especially as one who furnished intoxicating drinks to ponies.

“Look, Starshine,” mumbled the purple mare, “It's not that big of a deal.” The fatigue faintly evident in her voice seemed contradictory. “I don't mind too much if you take up a little time; it's not like I don't have as much as I need already.” Berry closed her eyes again, as though there was a weight straining her endurance. “The same goes for money; I don't really need the bits.” The earth pony breathed in and relaxed her expression and muscles as much as she could manage. “I guess what I'm trying to say is, you can have the Punch. I won't ask you for something I know you can't give me.”

There was a poignant pause, the words almost seeming to hang in the air as if by magic. Berry risked a glance and saw in Starshine's eyes a shining mixture of awe, surprise, and gratitude which made a blush overtake her cheeks. The bartender slid the crystal glass across the counter, and felt the unicorn's hoof wrap around hers for a moment. Without either mare looking at the other, the raw, brief sensation of physical contact between them said everything. Starshine gently squeezed, then Berry let go of the crystal and the two parted ways, albeit reluctantly.

The bartender looked at the clock. Twenty minutes past nine.

===

Comments

[ThatHandsomeDevil]

I sincerely hope you don't mind, but I have this nasty habit of proofreading in my head as I read along. I think I'll go ahead and do it here, if you don't mind terribly (Just to note, I don't spy nearly enough grammatical errors for it to be an issue to most readers, I'm just looking to give you a spot of help; no offense intended!)

Swish, swish, swish, went the rag, its squeaking

(those darn possessive apostrophes always trip me up.)

lazy atmosphere; from the rustic lanterns

Berry recognized each of them: Rainbow

This is hardly worth mentioning, but remember: When making a list, always use colons.

hearing a familiar, quiet voice call her name,she shrugged

but even so, there was a little bit

Like I said, little things. They don't really make a difference, but I know some authors appreciate it, myself included

On to the actual story. My God. Flawless. A perfect dip-in to the life of a pony outside of the limelight who has to deal with everyday concerns. At its heart nothing more than a simple story of a random act of kindness, but still so well done. Your vocabulary is expansive and doesn't grow tiring, your descriptions nearly perfect in length and haste, so as not to bore us with the details, and your grammar pretty much perfect. Better than mine, I have no doubt. So, while this may seem like a simple story, I still say good job and I'm glad to have read.
~THD

[Avenging-Hobbits]

She'd come to think of herself as something of a mop-ninja over the years, flourishing the everyday cleaning instrument in graceful and concussion-inducing sweeps.

I want to see a Mop-Ninja story. Like now.

Also, I love the world you've created here. It's rich and fully. I love the hints of back stories you've given everyone. And I hope Derpy gets sober. Goodness knows stopping cold turkey is difficult. I'd love to see more stories in this world you've created.

And I love that you made Berry Punch more then just a drinker. She's a bartender here. Nice change of pace. Head Canon accepted. I wonder where her mother went? Sounds like she abandoned her or she died.

Again, excellent hints at back story.