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Goat Licker


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Jan
28th
2015

Rough section from upcoming Cultural Norms chapter · 2:38am Jan 28th, 2015

In editing, I usually go back and add things in (mostly descriptions). I also need to make Discord's dialogue more Discordy.

Lero left the spa with plenty to think about, so the last thing he wanted to see was Discord wearing an anorak with its hood over a plaid baseball cap, squatting next to the road. The look of arrogant suspicion Discord tossed at him made it worse.

“Oi, guvnah,” Discord said.

“Good afternoon, Discord.”

Discord stood to his full height and stepped in front of Lero. “You wot mate?”

“Twilight!”

“Shh! Shh!” Discord held a furry finger over his mouth while he waved his claw at Lero in distress, his magic annihilating his getup in a purple smoky blast. “Shh! You’re completely lacking in fun, Lero.”

“I’m full of fun,” Lero said. “Just got things to do, that’s all.”

“Oh yes, always serving these ponies. So distasteful.”

“I enjoy the work,” Lero said. He looked around at the intersection where Discord was standing, slightly off the well-travelled path of Ponyville’s main streets. “Is there a reason you decided to meet me in the crossroads?”

“I have no idea what you mean,” Discord said, as he tuned his guitar to play in the blues scale, each strum sending hellhounds swirling their brimstone paths around Lero. “Are you trying to imply something, perhaps?”

Lero’s eyes narrowed. “Are you?”

“Oh ho ho, this game!” Discord said, leaping into the air. “Twenty questions!”

“Maybe later,” Lero said, inching down the road now that Discord wasn’t blocking him. “I got an appointment to keep.” That the appointment was with Dash on her cloud didn’t need to be mentioned.

“Wait!” Discord said, as he teleported in front of Lero. Now he was wearing a vest, cumberbund, and bowtie, shaking a strainer in front of a cherry wood bar, the well-stocked cabinet behind him full of bottles from Earth. Lero knew Discord was familiar with humans and human culture, but it still surprised him when it showed up.

Lero winced with homesickness, and quickly tried to cover up his expression, hoping Discord didn’t notice.

“Are you going to the cocktail festival tonight?” Discord asked.

“I plan on it,” Lero said. He saddled up to the bar, squeezing onto a stool.

“Good! I invented a drink inspired by you, and shall unveil it tonight! I call it... the Perfidious Albion!”

Lero propped his elbow on the bar and slumped his head into his hand. “Oh my. What an honor.”

“Tsk! Don’t be that way! Allow me to demonstrate!”

A blender materialized on the bar.

“Pour the entire contents of a bottle of gin into a blender!” Discord said, doing so, his claw obscuring the Beefeater label. When the bottle was empty, he tossed it behind him, over the liquor cabinet, the massive explosion momentarily blotting out sunlight.

“Next!” Two small bottles of distinctive shape appeared in Discord’s paw, and Lero feared where this was going. Discord ripped the caps off of both bottles and tossed them behind him again, where they sprouted wings and flew away.

“Scrape the entire contents of a bottle of Bovril and Marmite into the gin!” Discord squeezed the bottles as if they were toothpaste tubes, squirting the salty and beefy gels into the blender. “You have to scrape, of course. I have no such constraints.”

“Any constraints, more like it.”

“Next! Puree!” Discord slapped the cover on the blender and punched the last button, causing the blender to scream its hot razor-blade death into the evil liquid that had defiled it.

“You have to puree!” Discord shouted over the blender. “It tends to clump if you don’t! Then you’re drinking big, salty, beefy chunks! And who wants that?”

“Not me!” Lero shouted, but Discord turned off the blender, making shouting unnecessary.

“Listen to you shouting in my fine establishment,” Discord said. “Braying like the ass you are!” Lero developed long floppy ears and a tail.

Why am I still here, Lero thought.

“And now!” Discord reached down and slapped a dimpled beer glass on the counter (Lero wondered why he just didn’t magic the thing onto the bar), and poured the thick, black drink into the glass. Scents of vitamins, the inside of an old pill bottle, and alcohol hit Lero’s nose, and he wanted to retch.

“Here comes the piece de resistance... a clotted cream floater!” Discord scooped the white solid out of a glass bottle that appeared on the bar, and dropped it in the center of the drink. The clotted cream floated to the bottom.

“Hmm, it always does that,” Discord said. “How do you make it buoyant? Well, whatever. Drink up.”

Discord pushed the bottle toward Lero, who leaned away from it. “How about you first?”

“Are you kidding?” Discord said. “Why the hell would I want to drink this? It’s terrible!”

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Comments ( 1 )

I have no idea what either Marmite or Bovril taste like, and I intend to keep it that way.

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