//------------------------------// // Chapter 15: All of Them, All of Them, Jiggity-Jig // Story: The Incompetence Bureau // by Daemon McRae //------------------------------// Chapter 15: All of Them, All of Them, Jiggity-Jig Getting all of us together for a drink is way easier than it should be. We’re all gathered around our table at the usual spot at the Bent Unicorn, and between our usual group, and the addition of three new mares, all of which look like the kind of ponies you shouldn’t be serving alcohol to, the waitstaff had had a small argument about who was going to be working our table tonight. The loser, an adorably small Earth pony mare who I’ve never seen before, comes nervously up to our table as we all sit down, and asks politely, “Um, hello! What can I get started for you?” Most of the group ignores her, too busy arguing with each other. Adagio looks at her like a shark circling the waters, and I almost feel bad for her. “How about a pitcher of Red to get us started?” I ask. She looks eager to have such a quick out. “Coming right up?” she squeaks, and darts away. Adagio gives me a disapproving look. “Oh, come now, Sunny. You didn’t even give me a chance to say hello.” Sugarcoat chimes in from the far side of the table. “Probably because your ‘hellos’ should be co-opted into our sexual harassment seminars.” The eldest siren gives her an amused smile, oozing with sexuality. “You didn’t seem to mind yesterday, dear.” “That’s because she’s already been co-opted into the seminars,” Sour Sweet grumbles. She smiles slightly, though, as our waitress returns with a giant pitcher of ale, a bunch of glasses, and sets them all out with impressive speed. A speed she then quickly tops by leaving the table again. Lemon Zest tears her attention away from whatever heated discussion she was having with Sonata. “Aw yeaaaahh, BEER!” she cheers, pouring herself a draft and taking a large gulp. “Ahhhh.” Indigo and Aria quickly follow suit, almost spilling the stuff everywhere. Again. Sonata just makes a face at the pitcher as the rest of us pour ourselves more reasonable amounts. I raise an eyebrow at her. “Not a fan?” “Blech, no,” she groans. “That stuff’s for scrubs.” Indigo gives her an indignant look. “Scuse me?” “Oh, ignore her,” Adagio says soothingly. “She thinks anything less than 90 proof is just glorified water. When Sonata drinks, it’s to get drunk, not to taste anything.” Aria leans against her new bestest buddy, Zap. “Yeah, ignore that one. She wouldn’t know good ale if it rammed itself sideways up her lady-hole.” Another, more seasoned waiter, who I’m convinced has spent most of our tips on therapy, trots up to the table. “Can I get you ladies anything more… specific?” A question tailored after many, many visits from our office. Sonata raises a hoof and barks, “Triple-D absinthe!” The rest of the table flinches, as does the waiter. Adagio simply muscles past it, adding, “I’ll take a vodka tonic.” After a moment’s thought, she adds, “And whatever that adorable little pony from earlier is serving,” she adds with a well-groomed eyebrow. Sugarcoat takes a measured sip from her drink, and says, “Same.” “...on the drink, or...” the waiter says hesitantly. “Yes.” I roll my eyes, trade glances with Indigo, and we both chime in, “Tequila!” Aria surprises me with a “Buck YEAH To-kill-ya!” Sour bangs her head on the table, and mumbles something unintelligible. The waiter gives her a sympathetic look. “The usual, miss?” Sour just nods, rubbing her forehead against the teak tabletop. After a second, I realize I haven’t heard Lemon’s order yet. I turn to get her attention, only to find her chugging the pitcher. I mean the actual PITCHER. “DAMMIT ZEST!” She slams it down on the table, and gasps happily. “Whiskeeeey!” she cheers, with an already heavy tint to her cheeks. Sour raises her head up long enough to take a respectable swallow. “Ooooh, this is gonna be a long night,” she groans. ----------------- About an hour later, there’s only a few of us left at the table. Aria and Indigo have gone off to play darts, a feat made much more interesting with the presence of alcohol. Sonata and Zest, and to my surprise, Sour Sweet are all engaged in hogging the karaoke machine. All that’s left is myself, Adagio, and Sugarcoat, all nursing whatever our newest drinks are. I’ve kind of lost track. There’s also a large pitcher of water and a basket of potato wedges, which are filling me up fast. “I’m honestly surprised,” Adagio says pointedly, with a wistful look at her sisters. “Why?” I ask, trying not to slur. It’s not polite. As Sugarcoat has pointed out multiple times. Of course, she’s too busy leaning way too far into Adagio’s lap to chastise me right now, but she probably would anyway. Adagio heaves a sigh. “When we first got to the human world, we were surprised how quickly they all wee to fight. All that conflict. It was so far-flung from what we were used to, all of the friendship and joy ponies revel in, that we thought we’d finally found somewhere we belonged. Even if our circumstances were less than favorable. Of course, as it turns out, humans are a bunch of violent sociopaths, so that dream didn’t last long. “Then, when we recently encountered the students of Canterlot High, there was so much… getting-along-ness that we thought we’d found a weird side-dimension of Equestria. It was like there was no middle-ground. Everyone was either completely sadistic and aggressive, or something out of a kid’s book. Even when we were defeated, and found our way back here, we’d found that not-much had changed. Oh, of course there was conflict, hat’s unavoidable. Petty squabbles and the like. But my sisters and I always seemed to fall into some sort of gray area that didn’t exist anywhere. Until, that is, we found you lot,” she added thoughtfully. “Not sure how to take that,” I muse, taking a sip of what turns out to be a strawberry daiquiri. Adagio shrugged, and laughed lightly. “I’m not even sure how I meant it. But it’s… nice, to see ponies so much like us, that can still survive in modern society. I’d honestly thought we were just doomed to deal with ourselves, and only ourselves, without any kind of environment we could fit in. Then we met you lot. So aggressive. But not… humanly so. You just did for yourselves, and somehow managed to stay friends. It was like viewing my household from the outside. I guess what I’m trying to say is… I’m grateful. They are, too. Although Aria wouldn’t admit it. You could just as easily have looked at us like everyo-pony else does, like criminals. Even some of the occupants of our apartment complex veer away from us. “But you didn’t care. To you, we were just part of the job. You didn’t have any preconceptions, any biases. And here we all are, actually enjoying ourselves. With other ponies. I can’t even remember the last time we were all so… social,” she concluded. “Alcohol probably has to do something with that,” Sugarcoat chimed in, her head now firmly settled against Adagio’s side. This got a laugh out of the siren. “Oh please, dear. You think I haven’t gotten somepony drunk before? This is… different. I mean sure, Sonata is typically a social mare, and Aria never turns down a challenge, like some other ponies I know, but it’s like… like we don’t need to worry about what happens afterwards.” I give her a sideways glance, then look down to Sugarcoat. Then over at Aria and Indigo, who have foregone darts for hoof-wrestling. I don’t even need to look at the karaoke stage, as I can hear the horrible butchering of ‘Endless Love’ going on, peppered by verbal jabs and scuffling. Not from the staff, they’d long since stopped trying to corral us, instead taking rather dreary notes on what we might have to pay for once we’ve sobered up. “Are you sure you’re looking at the right group?” I ask, concerned. She gently strokes Sugarcoat’s mane, who I see has since passed out. “I am now, thank you.” ----------------------------- The next morning, I roll out of bed, nursing yet another hangover. For once, I’m in my own home, alone. It’s a nice change of pace, as I can recover properly by myself. Then my phone starts going off. LZ: Dudz, how much did I drink last nite? SC: All of it. LZ: :( SS: Somepony tell me I was NOT singing Endless Love. Sonatata: I would, but the internet doesn’t lie. Amidst my surprise that Sonata is in our group chat, a link appears on my phone. It’s a video of Zest, Sour, and Sonata all singing terribly, terribly off key. When they’re not fighting over the mic. SS: OH. MY GOD. WHO TOOK THAT?! Blazbitch: MORNING! IZ: Oy yeah, I dragged Aria into the chat. I think. Anyway, that’s her. SS: I don’t CARE who it is, who put my mug on the INTERNET?! Blazbitch. :P SS: ...Aria, we are going to have a LONG talk about your mother on Monday. Blazbitch: >.< Adazzle: Aria, enough with the emoticons. SC: Oh, I also added Adagio. LZ: Who added Sonata? SF: No idea. IZ: Not me. Blazbitch: Nope. Adazzle: Nor I. SC: Nope. There’s a few minutes of silence, which I take advantage of to use the bathroom. As I’m washing my hooves, a thought occurs to me. SF: Sour? SS: Hmm? SF:...did you add Sonata? Sonatata: Hee hee hee. SS: ...maybe SF: Oh, my god. SS: SHUT UP. IZ: Somepony has a new BESTIE! SS: ...I hate all of you. LZ: WHO NEEDS HANGOVER SURPRISE?! SF: NO. IZ: NO. SC: NO. SF: NO. Sonatata: Wassat? SS: It’s awful. It’s terrible. It’s the worst thing you could ever put into your face. A few moments pass. SS: It’s delicious. It cures hangovers. Adazzle: Oh my OCEANS, yes. Blazbitch: Sounds good. Sonatata: I’m in! The next few texts are various warning from the other girls, and lots of encouragement from Lemon Zest. I decide to nurture my hangover with some hot tea, some toast, and a warm blanket. SO much so, that I end up falling asleep. I’m awoken a few hours later with a series of upset texts. Adazzle: WHY?! Blazbitch: I hate you all. ALL. I laugh to myself, knowing that the newest members of our unfortunate group have been properly indoctrinated by the horrible feast Lemon Zest has, at one point or another, conned us all into eating. Then another message pops up. Sonatata: What’s bacon grease? I pause, processing this question. And it’s context. SF: I think I’m gonna be sick.