Never the Final Word (Vol. 2)

by FanOfMostEverything


Airy Words's Dry-Roasted Humor (Georg's "Her Royal Morning Coffee")

Dry Roast felt his molars rattle in their sockets from the slap on his back administered by Shining Armor. The stallion’s laughter made the sting of the resulting bruise and terror of offending “The Family” abate somewhat. The coffee maker determined that good-natured jocularity meant something more... painful when your drinking partner was a former Captain of the Royal Guard and one of the strongest spellcasters in living memory. Dry raised his head slightly and pulled his cheeks into a not-very-convincing grin.

It seemed to be good enough, though. “Yeah, leave it to Twily to make getting her first kiss inponyingly complicated and with two scoops of...” Shining leaned back and looked down at his front hooves, now held in front of him, chest-width apart, “...denial...” shaking his left hoof “... and rationalization,” shaking his right. He looked back at his drinking companion. “Well, I’m sorry that she’s put you through all this drama. Twilight, for all that we love her, is not the most self-aware pony in the world, and now it’s coming back to bite her in the plot.”

Dry’s breath caught on his throat and his whole body tensed.

Despite his current inebriated state, Shining apparently saw this. He waved a hoof apologetically. “Not meaning literally, of course.”

Air returned to Dry’s lungs and doubtless blood resumed flowing in his veins.

Shining leaned closer, in what Dry supposed was intended to be a friendly, comfortable manner. “So ... now that you’ve had a chance to interact with her when she was awake, what are your first impressions?”

The proprietor’s mind cleared and entered a state of “Flow” that normally could only be achieved by meditation gurus or the perfect pairing of customer to java variety and preparation. Either would take years of strenuous effort, yet the wonder of the experience was lost on Dry. In his heart, he knew the wrong answer could awaken the protective beast now slumbering next to him, and there would be no time or opportunity to take it back. After a few seconds that felt like hours, he took the plunge with the most honest answer he could conceive.

“Well, she’s a much nicer pony when she’s asleep than when she’s awake.”

Shining Armor froze, looking off at some unknown point in the distance. Dry considered his chance at escaping during this momentary distraction, but ultimately decided the odds now looked slightly better right here.

“You know,” began Shining, “I’ve heard my sister described a bunch of different ways throughout the years, but this is certainly the first time I’ve heard that.”