I swung the front door open and was immediately met with a one armed hug from Apple Bloom.
“Happy birthday, Sweetie! How's bein' all grown up treatin' ya?”
I returned the hug gratefully, grinning from ear to ear. “You know it's not really my birthday anymore.”
“Yeah, but now it's time for our party,” Scootaloo said eagerly. “I've got two extra larges with our names on 'em right here.”
Apple Bloom pulled away and hefted the bulging bag in her other hand. “Genuine Sweet Apple Acres goods! Plus a little sumthin' from Sugar Belle. I tell ya, marryin' her might just be the smartest thing Big Mac's ever done.”
The three of us laughed while I lead the way upstairs to the guest room that had become my unofficial second bedroom ever since my parents decided Rarity was well off enough for them to start leaving me with her whenever they ran off on some vacation or business trip. My magic swung open the door and pulled some cushions out of the closet for us all to sit on.
“Make yourselves comfortable!”
Scootaloo wasted no time dropping the pizzas in the middle of the floor, sitting down, and pulling out a slice of mushroom and black olive.
“Ya wanna wait fer us or what?”
“Hey, I'm hungry, okay? I was moving that cold front into town all day! Besides, there's plenty. We got two extra large half 'n half pizzas. Mushroom and olives, and jalapeno and onions on this one. The other's got tomato and spinach, and, uh...” she peeked under the lid, “something called 'anchovies'.”
Apple Bloom leaned to look over Scootaloo's shoulder. “What the hay is an 'anchovies'?”
I shrugged. “I've never heard of them before.”
“Me neither,” Scootaloo admitted. “It's something they started stocking last year when the Friendship School really starting bringing in lots of other creatures. They told me dragons, griffons, and changelings love 'em.”
I eyed the strange, ragged, dark brown things suspiciously. “Are they safe?”
“They ain't allowed ta sell sumthin' to ponies if ponies can't eat it.”
“How do you know?”
Apple Bloom sat down and started pulling things out of her bag. “'Cause my family sells food, that's how. There's all kinds of rules 'n stuff ya gotta follow. Speakin' of, I got a fresh baked apple pie from Applejack, a jar of zap apple jam and a homemade loaf of bread to eat it on fer breakfast tomorrow, plus a mess of Sugar Belle's new apple fritters.”
“New recipe?” That definitely had my attention. Sugar Belle does wonderful things with an oven.
“Emy goof?” Scootaloo asked around her mouthful of crust.
“Well, I tried one before she wrapped 'em up…”
“And?”
“And,” she rubbed the back of her neck self consciously, “she had to chase me off before I ate 'em all.”
Scootaloo and I laughed at Apple Bloom's chagrin. I lifted a slice of tomato and spinach with my magic. The “anchovies” would have to wait. Might as well have some good food first.
An hour later the pizza was demolished (along with most of the baked goods) and Apple Bloom bid it farewell with an earth rattling belch.
“Nice,” Scootaloo said, appreciatively. “Bet I can beat it.”
“Please don't,” I sighed.
“Phew! 'S'cuse me. Just went 'n snuck up on me there.”
“What's wrong, Sweetie? We tried becoming 'Cutie Mark Crusader Belchers' once, remember?”
My eyes rolled. That had been Scootaloo's idea, of course. “I was young and didn't know any better.”
Scootaloo let herself flop back onto the floor. “That's your excuse for all the dumb things we used to do. You used to be cool.”
“Hey, I still do dumb things! I actually ate some of those anchovies.”
Apple Bloom shuddered and Scootaloo laughed. “Yeah, they're pretty nasty. I think I like 'em.”
“I think they mighta been…” Apple Bloom had another shudder, “meat.”
My stomach churned. I had a bad feeling along those lines right from the start but I'd been afraid to say anything. The worst part was that the more of them I ate, the better they tasted. “I'm never eating those again.”
Scootaloo rolled her eyes. “Oh, come on, they weren't that bad.”
“I'm with Sweetie.” Apple Bloom rubbed her stomach like a mare with lasting regrets. “Ponies ain't meant to eat meat. Granny Smith's told me stories--”
I cut her off quickly. “We know. You told them at Nightmare Night that one time. You Pinkie Promised never to tell them to me again.”
“Yeeaah, I'm gonna go with Sweetie on this one.”
Apple Bloom raised an eyebrow. “What's wrong, Scoots? Ya scared of a few stories?”
Scootaloo sat straight up. “What!? No way!”
“Suuure. Tell that to the Headless--”
“You know, there's another meat dish you can try. It's called a knuckle sandwich.”
“So, what do you girls want to do now?” I interrupted. This was not a good time for roughhousing. Not when I had so much pizza, pie, and fritter in me. I'd probably explode.
Apple Bloom's eyes darted to her bag. She opened her mouth then closed it again and shrugged.
“You got any of our Crusading plans here?” Scootaloo asked.
“I didn't think to grab them. I knew I forgot something.”
“Er… I may have… Uh, never mind.”
Scootaloo and I both turned our attention to our friend. She was avoiding our eyes and was a little bit red in the cheeks like she was embarrassed about something.
“What is it?”
“Something cool?”
“Uh, nothing. It was a dumb idea.”
“Hey, we're the Crusaders,” Scootaloo said proudly. “Whatever it is, we've done dumber.”
I gave my friend a 'Look'. “Why are you saying that like it's a good thing?”
“Trying new things is our whole thing,” Scootaloo swept her hand over the mark plainly visible on her thigh below the hem of her shorts. “Getting other ponies to try new things includes us, right? Plus, trying new things helps us introduce other ponies to those things. Sure, haiku didn't do anything for us but we got a filly her mark in it during our very first camp!” She fluffed up her wings and sat up straighter. “It's our duty to try new things, no matter how dumb!”
“…You know,” I said, a little worried, “that actually makes a scary kind of sense.”
“I know. But,” Apple Bloom glanced at the bag, “ain't no pony gonna have a talent in this.”
“Come on, just spill it!”
Apple Bloom sighed. “Alright. But I'm tellin' ya now, I think it's a bad idea.”
Reluctantly, she reached into the bag and pulled out a hefty cube shaped thing wrapped in waxy brown paper with a fancy label like a wine bottle's stuck on one side.
“A salt lick,” Scootaloo deadpanned. “Wow. We toootally didn't make one of those in school when we were twelve.”
“Uh, Scootaloo, I don't think that's like the ones we made in school.” I took hold of the hefty cube of salt and floated it close enough to read the label. “'Aunt Appletini's Hard Salt Lick'.”
Scootaloo's interest came back in a flash, although it was weirdly… not happy. Not unhappy, but not happy either. “Hold up, hard salt lick? You mean like a hard-hard salt lick?”
“A branch of the family makes 'em. Based offa the hard apple cider they make. A couple got left behind after the last reunion and I put one away. They don't go bad so I've just held onto it.”
“Don't we have to be a few years older for this sort of thing?” I asked, nervously.
“Nope. These here are legal at eighteen 'cause you'd have to lick down a whole hay of a lot of it to really get mixed up. Applejack says the salt'll get ya sick before ya get drunk, unless yer a super lightweight. Like, lighter than Pip kinda lightweight. Most ponies are done by the time they round off a corner. It's just supposed ta make ya all… warm 'n fuzzy. Loosen ya up, y'know?”
Scootaloo scratched her head. “Doesn't alcohol evaporate? How do they…?”
“Magic.”
“Oh, right, duh.”
“You ever had one?” I was asking Apple Bloom but my eyes kept wandering back to Scootaloo. There was something funny about the way she was looking at the salt.
“Nope. Don't really know why I brought it. Guess it was sorta the spur of the moment. I mean, it's an adult thing and we're all adults now, so…”
“Let's try it.” Apple Bloom and I both looked to Scootaloo. She'd gotten rid of the serious face and was back to her usual, cocky self.
“Um, I'm not sure about that,” I said.
“Oh, come on,” she pressed. “We're old enough, right? It's safe, right?”
“None of us hafta try it if we don't want to. Ain't none of us got nuthin' to prove.”
“Come on, I at least wanna try it,” Scootaloo insisted.
“Well… it has been a while since I had anything salty. Other than those anchovies.” I shuddered. “Maybe it'll get that taste out of my mouth.”
Apple Bloom looked at the cube with a newfound interest. “Good point. Ya know what? Open 'er up, I'm gonna take a lick. 'Least this here was meant for ponies.”
“Wimps.”