//------------------------------//
// Berry Punch and Derpy Hooves are Shmoopy Boos. 
// Story: Super Gypsy Lord Admiral Nyronus Shachza Shouldn't Write Shipfics, Volume II 
// by Admiral Biscuit 
//------------------------------//

“Oh, Berry,” Derpy, mismatched eyes flashing pink as she nuzzled Berry. “You’re my schmoopiest doopiest boos!”

“Wonderful, wonderful, dear!” Berry purred.

“I love you soo-wow-much!” Derpy said, draping herself all over Berry.

“I know you do, I know you do.” Berry grinned, and tossed back another shot.

“I would move the stars for you.”

“Thank you.”

“I would move the sun for you!”

“Oh, I am flattered.”

“I would depose Celestia and Luna for you and bring about eternal twilight dooming all Equestria to a slow death just to prove that I would go to any lengths to express the deeply unhealthy and all consuming feeling of love I haven’t been able to stop feeling since we started drinking!” Derpy pumped her hoof into the air, knocking Berry’s shotglass out of her hand and sending it flying across the room to shatter on wall.

Berry blinked, shrugged, snatched the Jack Daniels off the table, and took a shot straight from the neck.

“Ah,” She sighed and leaned back as the whisky went down. “You should have been a poet, Derpy!”

“Thank you!” Derpy giggled.

“Ahhh,” Berry leaned back as Derpy wrapped around her like a chemically co-dependent snake. “I am so glad I talked to those girls.”

“About what my Berry-Warry---Whoops!” Then there went the whisky.

Berry sighed.

“It’s alright dear. Could you go fetch the stout, Derpy?”

“Sure thing, Berry! I can’t help myself but want to make you happy right now!”

“And I’m glad for it.”

Berry closed her eyes as her new lover flew off to fetch some more celebratory booze and smiled as she thought about her life. Unfortunately for her all her life was at the moment was that of a sad, broken shell of a pony forced to use an illegal love poison to enslave a pony against their will to be her love servant so she wouldn’t have the face the fact that without some kind of fawning lover she would be even more keenly aware that after driving away everyone who sincerely cared about her her current psychic existence was nothing more than an empty performance as she circled the yawning cosmic drain that is self-inflicted oblivion.

She sighed. Thankfully she had alcohol and co-dependence to help with that.