Hearth's Warming 2017

It's still a work in progress, but it's something I was writing for this year's holiday. Already over 2000 words, it should probably get posted in full if I can get to finishing it.

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“EEEEEeeeeeeeee! You’re here!  You’re here you’re here you’re here you’re here you’re here you’re here you’re here you’re here you’re here you’re here… wow, that phrase just lost all meaning.  But you’re here!” A blur of pink exploded into our conversation, complete with confetti.

“It’s great to see you too, Pinkie Pie,” I said with a small smile.  “I couldn’t imagine a Ponyville Tuba Hearth’s Warming without you.”

Pinkie somehow managed to grab both Beau and myself and squeeze us into a rib-shattering embrace.  I swear I felt at least a dozen things go ‘pop.’

“Pinkie...Beau...need...air…” my red coated co-victim wheezed.

“Oops!” Pinkie immediately let go and we flopped unceremoniously to the station floor.  An oddly menacing gleam appeared in her eye as I heard her whisper “My hugs are not too tight.”

“If you say so…” Beau muttered as he rose shakily to his feet.

“Anywho, that means we’re up to six, assuming that Cheese Sandwich gets here with the spare instrument that he promised I could borrow because Applejack is playing mine.”

Cousin Applejack?  I internalized.  Who knew?

    “Of course, I’m going to have to wash that mouthpiece out with Zecora’s special cleaner because I don’t know where that’s seal’s mouth has been…” she continued rambling.  I didn’t try to follow her train of thought, because I was pretty sure Pinkie’s train had gone off the rails many moons ago.

    What did give me pause was the prospect of only six players.  With all of the musicians across equestria, only six of us were willing to come to Ponyville for this event?  We were two ponies short of eight part harmony.

    “Come on, I’ll show you to the practice hall!”  Pinkie squealed as she pronked away in her own personal style.  Beau looked at me with concern, but I just shrugged and followed.

    The Ponyville Town Hall was booked for pretty much every special event one could imagine.  Cute-ceañeras, weddings, shows by the Pony Tones, you name it, they could host it.  The acoustics were superb, so musical events filled up their schedule quickly.  There’s nothing like a high ceiling to make a choir or orchestra’s notes reverberate through the air at a mellifluous frequency.

    Our conductor was on stage, bathed by the spotlight in such a way that only her silhouette was visible.  It appeared that whatever committee approved the directors had indeed gone with the local talents of the beautiful Octavia Melody, as I would recognize that shape anywhere.  She gracefully waved her baton at music that only she could hear, somewhat cautiously as she was certainly more used to being on the other side of it.

    “We’re heeeeeeeere!”  Pinkie announced in her opposite-of-nonchalant way.

    Octavia stiffened slightly, and placed the baton on the director’s stand in front of her.  She then picked up a shadowy blob and appeared to set it on her head before stepping out of the spotlight and revealing that she was not actually Octavia at all.

    “Welcome to Ponyville’s Tuba Hearth’s Warming, y’all.”

    Fiddlesticks.  Or Fiddly Faddle or even Fiddly Twang.  We musicians use a lot of different professional names, come to think of it…

    “I suppose I could say welcome back to Ponyville, since you two ain’t exactly strangers,” she continued as she trotted up to me and gave me a warm, wet peck right on the muzzle.  Beau leaned in for one as well, and I got no small satisfaction when she only gave him a hearty hoofshake instead.  Pinkie Pie got a hug, because Pinkie’s a hugger.

    “Not that I’m not pleasantly surprised, but what kind of strings did you have to pull to land this gig, Fiddles?” I asked, while Beau sulked a bit next to me.

    “It was the oddest thing,” she said.  “First Tavi came down with a case of Swamp Fever, which I  would have chalked up as plumb impossible if Fluttershy hadn’t told me herself.  Then Fancy Pants was going to fill in for her, but he got the Blue Flu, which I ain’t never heard of before.”

    Beau scratched his muzzle.  “It almost sounds like a conspiracy.  Heh, maybe Symphony was sabotaging her competition after all.”

    I scowled at the red stallion for the unseemly jab at his ex.  Before I could say anything unladylike myself, Fiddlesticks saved my rump.

    “Symphony.  That was the name of the third mare who was gonna direct ya.  She developed Horsey Hives, and you know how it’s even worse when ya get it as an adult.  Itchin’ up a storm right now, the poor gal.  Redheart’s takin’ good care of her, though.”

    “Wait, so she was here, then?” Beau’s face lost its color.

    “Still is.  The local LEO’s are aware of yer restrainin’ order, though.  Ya still ain’t allowed to see her, but you can play if’n ya still want to.”

    Three ponies, three different ailments.  It could have been a coincidence, but it had me worried a little bit, especially the Blue Flu, whatever that was.  It almost sounded like something Discord would make up.