The bachelor party
Prepare to be vaguely amused.
Spike’s eyes ran furiously over the pages. Although the dictionary isn’t renowned for being a fascinating read, he still had one reason to be studying it. A job was still heavy on his shoulders, and before he could leave Canterlot, he needed to complete his role as ‘bachelor party thrower’.
But now he was tackling the most difficult of his quests, what is a bachelor party?
His face lit up as his eyes landed on the finely printed word. “Bachelor party,” he said aloud, “the ritual of the bachelor party, also known as a stag party is believed to be centuries old. Part of a bachelor party's function is to allow the groom's male friends one last opportunity to relive a time when they could be irresponsible and immature without penalty,” he began to devise ideas for immature games to play, Twilight had always told him that hide and seek was an immature game.
He quickly scribbled this down onto his notepad and read on. “The evening is generally filled with male bonding over alcohol and exotic entertainment from hired female dancers.” The book also contained a list of slang for the dancers; he took note of a few.
He quickly glanced up at the clock and jumped out of his seat. He had 4 hours until he left Canterlot- he had 4 hours to make this party happen. A childish grin spread over his face, “Step one, entertainment.” He ran out of Canterlot library.
An hour later, he arrived at Canterlot general store. They must surely sell this stuff, he thought. The building was filled with ponies completing their weekly shop, as the gentle background noise of the crowds filled the store. He rubbed his claws in exicitement and headed over to the counter.
A purple pony sat at the desk, a pair of glasses sat low of her nose as she perused a magazine of the latest ‘Celeb gossip’. Who really cares about Celestia’s weight gain anyway?
“Aww little dragon,” she leant forward onto the counter, “are you lost?” she asked with a welcoming smile.
“No actually,” said Spike, looking down at his notepad, “do you know where I could find some whores?” he asked politely.
The mares face turned to one of immediate horror; the glasses slid and fell off her nose, her mouth agape. Spike tried again with another one of the words, “Do you have any Prozees then?” he asked innocently. Her face remained unchanged.
A stallion on the counter beside her leant across. “I get those things all the time,” he said with a coy grin, “we don’t sell them here, but if you head out to Red Street, you’ll find loads of them little man.”
“Oh thank you,” said Spike, and he walked off.
The street he found rather quickly, he had discovered that by simply asking most stallions that they could point him in the right direction; most of the mares however, were less than helpful. The street was more of an alleyway he discovered. It was rather dingy and easily distinguished as the ‘rough side’ of Canterlot, as Twilight would put it.. Neon signs hung over the top of doors, but the windows were mostly dark to preventing him from seeing the goods.
Some rather shifty looking ponies were leaning against the walls, they all gave him weird looks, and even a couple laughed as he walked past. One of the neon signs read ‘Whore hut’, and he figured that would be where he could get a few.
He entered the room and was immediately met by two fairly well built stallions looked down on him frowning, both had their arms crossed. The taller of the two knelt down to his height, he smelled strongly of smoke and another unfamiliar pungent aroma. “What are you doing in here little man,” he asked with a wry grin.
“I’m um…,” he shifted around uncomfortably, “looking for whores.” The stallion’s eyes widened and the two of them burst out laughing, he ushered Spike in but continued in his rowdy guffaw.
He walked past them grinning although he wasn’t entirely sure why they were laughing, perhaps he should have explained to them about the party. The room was bathed in a red light, and a few stallions sat around an elevated platform, upon which was a dancing mare. A few more boisterous stallions were throwing bits at the mare.
He walked up to a desk, at which sat a stallion with dark glasses despite being indoors; he had a bright shirt his mane was tied into a bundle at the back. He looked down to Spike but didn’t speak.
“Could I buy some whores,” he asked, expecting laughter.
“Whoa, dude,” stallion held out a hoof insulted, “this is a business with professional workers, we call them entertainers. Besides, you have to pay extra if you wanna insult them.”
“Sorry,” Spike said embarrassed, “Can I buy a few?” he asked.
“You can rent um if you like little man. But it’ll cost ya, we do a forty-five minute special if you’re interested?”
Spike looked back over to the entertainer. The mare wore something similar to what Twilight had in her drawer back in Ponyville, her ‘special suit’ as she called it. It didn’t really look too fancy, but he never really understood fashion anyway.
“I’d like four please, for forty-five minutes,” he said. The hide and seek game should only last about that long, especially if he was going to make time to drink the ‘booze’ which was apparently a vital part of the party.
“Sure little man,” the stallion said with a grin. He pulled out a calculator and punched in some numbers. “That’ll be six hundred bits.”
Spike pulled out Twilight’s card which apparently was filled with bits, although he couldn’t see how money could fit into such a thin piece of plastic. “Also, do you know where I could get ‘booze’?” Spike asked, handing over the card.
The stallion swiped the card and punched more numbers into the calculator. “I can give you a couple of cider kegs if you like? Cos that’s all we got here.”
He remembered the cider Applejack had made, and how deliciously, scrumptious it apparently was. It was so good that is made Rainbow start kissing Applejack with happiness, so it must have been really good. She also apparently spent the rest of the night dining in a carpet store, but he wasn’t really sure what she meant by that.
“Sure, that sounds great,” Spike said gleaming. This was all going perfect, he had the entertainers and the booze; all that was left was the ‘male companions’. Looking around the place he immediately realised that the place was filled with only males. “Could I make an announcement on the intercom,” Spike asked innocently.
“I dunno,” the stallion said, rubbing his bearded chin.
“Please, my friend’s bachelor party is coming up, and he needs company.”
“A Bachelor party! Why didn’t you say?” He lifted the microphone from under the desk and cleared his throat.
A small beep came from the speakers in the corner. “All members of the whore hut are welcome a bachelor party in…” the stallion lent over the desk toward Spike.
“Royal Canterlot Suite, room 1.”
“The Royal Canterlot Suite!” the intercom repeated.
A sudden cheer came from the tables about the room; various stallions stood up and downed their drinks. A crowd ran toward Spike, picking him up and carrying him out of the building toward the party. A group of entertainers followed along with a set of stallions carrying the kegs.
Spike face was aglow, everything was going perfect. He had the entertainers, the booze and the male companions. All that was left was the party itself, and he was a successful ‘bachelor party thrower’.
* * *
“I really enjoyed the wedding,” Fluttershy said to the group. Twilight was off spending the last few hours of the visit with Celestia, however.
“I know,” Rainbow agreed, “it was so cool.”
They all sat around a circular table outside the local café. Applejack squinted as her eyes were drawn in the distance. The others stopped nattering to turn toward what she saw.
“Is that,” Applejack began.
“Spike?” Rarity finished.
The young dragon was being carried atop eight stallions, shortly followed by a couple of kegs and some pretty loose looking mares. The lot of them sat with their mouths open and disbelief in their eyes.
When the crowd had passed, Applejack spoke up. “They grow up so fast now,” she took a sip of her coffee, “damn youths.”
* * *
“I love you so much Cadance,” he said quietly, planting a kiss on the mare’s cheek. “The way you stood up to the queen of the changelings, it was so brave.” She blushed under his attention.
The room was full of royal furnishings such as a large double bed for a perfect night’s sleep, although that wasn’t what they had recently been using if for. Gold trims covered everything in the room from the corners of the desks to the gilded rim of the toilets; everything had a regal finish, and they had it all to themselves.
She nuzzled lightly against his neck sharing another tender kiss. A quick knocking at the door interrupted their perfect moment.
Shining Armour got up off the bed abruptly and headed out toward the door. “I’ll be back in a moment Mrs Armour,” he said playfully. He had started calling her it soon after the wedding, both to see how she would react and also in a tone which inspired her mood.
“Do hurry my dear,” she said with a small grin. “I may have a royal knighting to bestow upon you, after you kneel.” Her eyes closed in a seductive manner.
He grinned back as he left the room. After clearing his throat, he opened the door. A large group of stallions stood in the doorway. “Are you Shining Armour?” a voice came from the group although he couldn’t see whose it was.
“Um, yes?” The group gave a sudden celebratory call and pushed in through the door knocking him to the side.
A voice called out from the group, “Let’s get this party started!”
Cadence looked almost frightened at the rowdy bunch of stallions playing music and now drinking from kegs in her main room. “What party is this?” Shining Armour called into the group.
A small purple dragon, whom he had only met once, ran out of the crowd with a glass of cider in his claw. “Your bachelor party!” he shouted, arms spread wide.
“Wha-“
“You must be Shining Armour.” He turned to find four rather attractive mares standing behind him.
“Yes, but I -“
The mare pushed him over so he fell on the chair. The four of them began circling him in a slow dance.
“What the hell is this?” Cadence called over. His head spun with a look of horror as his wife watched him get seduced by four strippers.
The mare tore off an item of clothing and wrapped it around his head. The other stallions, by this point, all had a drink in their hoof and were circling the helpless ‘bachelor’ being fed curious looks and more items of clothing around his head.
“Darling I-“he said, although he couldn’t see through the crowd. He tried to stand but another mare pushed him down.
“You’re not going anywhere,” she said in a soft tone.
Spike stared into the maelstrom of mares ‘shaking booty’ and stallions cheering them on.
Shining Armours face was one of shock, the party must be so good that he is speechless. Spike silently celebrated.
“Hide and seek now!” he called into the group, however, receiving many a strange look, although no responses. “Shining Armour count to one hundred!” he shouted again, running off to hide.
* * *
There weren’t many places to hide in the Suite he found, but his spot must have been remarkably good. He had managed to stay undiscovered for nearly two and a half hours, and he would need to leave in one more hour for the train back to Ponyville.
He had kept himself occupied in the wardrobe by bending coat hangers, so far he had made a battleship, a pony-looking thing and, by melting the metal with his fire, an indistinguishable lump; the lump was his favourite creation.
Now was about time to give the game up he thought. The noise of the main room had long since died down, and he was all but bored of his beloved lump. Slowly, he stuck his head out of the wardrobe. He looked at either side for surprise attackers, which he was now aware of thanks to years of experience, and climbed out.
He carefully tiptoed out of the bedroom and stood in the doorway of the main room, where he glanced inside. Shining Armour sat on the chair of the main room. Bottles of discarded alcohol lay around the floor. The room held a melancholic feel about it; a feel which, if he had learnt anything from Pinkie, should never be in a party.
He shuffled over and jumped in front of the stallion. “Surprise!” he shouted although the reaction he got was a sigh.
“Hey Spike,” Shining Armour said, taking a swig of the cider.
“Are you sad because you couldn’t find me?” Spike asked. It was the only reason he could think of, no other reason would result in somepony being sad. The party was excellent. Entertainers, check. Booze, check. Stallion friends, check. Shining Armour shook his head. “Then why are you sad?” Spike asked.
The door behind him swung open, and an angry mare stepped in. There are a few things Spike had learnt about an angry mare, things which he had picked up after living with one for most his life:
1. Whatever they are mad at, try not to be associated with it in any way.
2. If they are mad at you, apologise and run away. (Not necessarily in that order.)
3. If they ask for your opinion, agree; agree like your life depends on it or they will be mad at you, this makes you break the first rule.
4. If you are partly to blame, consult rule one or, if it is too late, rule three.
Cadence had this look of anger, and behind her stood the rest of the group; each one as angry as the next. Spike and Shining Armour, both being males, knew this situation well but never to this level. This sort of situation will make you lose; you can’t win. One angry mare would tear you a new one, seven would make you feel you’d been living on nothing but Taco Bell for eight months.
“Spike!” Twilight called over the rampant breathing of the angry mares.
He swallowed hard. The sweet cider still crawled down his throat as he slowly advanced toward his presumable death.
“Y- Yes Twilight?” he asked, ready to receive a tongue lashing.He braced for the train of torment to crash into him, his life, however brief, flashed in front of his eyes. Fond memories of those he loved and how much he was yet to achieve; his first kiss, the discovery at long last of where babies come from and, very soon, he would find out about the afterlife.
“Go wait at the train station; I don’t want you to see this,” Twilight said. She returned her attention to her brother, who, by this point, was probably filled with terror.
A silent celebration was taken by Spike as he walked away from the scene of, soon to be, murder. A steady smile was aglow on his face as he walked down toward the train station. He was a brilliant ‘bachelor party thrower’ after all, and if he was a pony, he knew what his Cutie Mark would be.