“I’m BOOOOREEDDD” you yell at the ceiling, flailing all four of your hooves like an octopus that ate an exceptionally spicy fish. A wasabi fish. A Wasabish. More like a wasabitch.
God I need more booze.
You roll off your back and your ears perk up.
“Actually,” you mumble to yourself. “That’s not a bad idea. I’m an adult. I can totally drink.”
You stand and mosey your way through Twilight’s castle to the Library, where Twilight probably is. She’s sitting comfortably in a chair and levitating a book in front of her. You can’t help but feel like she’s been exceptionally kind to you. The two of you have developed a trust lately that has felt… well. Special.
You trot up to her and look up at her with your wide filly eyes.
“Twilight can I have $10 to get F%$@!# up on whiskey?”
Twilight looks away from her book, puts her bookmark inside, and closes it.
The book thwaps you in the nose.
“No. Bad Anon. No alcohol.”
“BUT TWILIGHT!”
“Anon. You are in a child body. Your liver isn’t even fully developed. Well. Yet. And we don’t know if any of your Human body tolerances or adjustments transferred.”
“We know I can’t eat bacon.”
“So probably not.”
“TWILIGHT!” you scream. “I am a young developing mare and I have a need for whiskey!”
“No.”
“Okay, fine.” you sigh. “I’ll settle for beer.”
“No.”
“Light beer?”
“No.”
“Okay now you’re just being unreasonable.”
Twilight thwaps you again.
“Hey!”
“No, Anon. Listen to me.” Twilight reiterates. “There’s a certain point where we cannot predict how your body is going to handle these sort of adult substances. I understand you’re bored. I know I’ve made my own fair number of mistakes from being bored.”
“Who did you do?”
“This isn’t about me right now! Okay? Focus,” Twilight waves, her face flushing a deep scarlet. “If you have any alcohol in your young body it could completely damage your bodily organs.”
“But I’m going to go back to being a human anyway. So who cares?”
“I care, Anon!” Twilight says. “If we cast the spell to turn you back and it doesn’t work the way we expect. You could have some weird disease!”
“There’s a joke somewhere about liver disease and living, but I’m not enough of an alcoholic to figure it out right now. Consider yourself lucky.”
“Understand, Anon?” Twilight asks. “I need a clear answer on this one.”
You sigh and resign yourself to your answer.
“Alright. No alcohol. I understand.”
You turn and leave the library. Knowing that you now get to do what every other kid does when they can’t get booze from mom and dad.
Find an alcoholic.
The streets of Ponyville are somewhat quiet on this weekend afternoon, but you already know where your favorite bar used to be. Even if they won’t serve you anymore. And as you trot to the front, you find your favorite drinking buddy passed out in the alley beside the bar.
“Berry!” you call to her.
“Kill meeee,” she groans.
“Not today, old friend. Not today.”
She groans and looks up to you, shielding her eyes from the blistering sun.
“Anon?”
“In the horse flesh. How are you?”
“Oh, you know what they say. Liquor in the liver keeps you living.”
“See, I knew there was something,” you mutter. “Anyway. Gimme booze.”
She laughs and rolls back onto her front.
“No chance, Anon. I ain’t gettin caught giving to a minor. I got enough problems in my life.”
“Like not having enough wine.”
“That’s a serious problem, D%$@!#”
You sigh in relief.
“Finally, somepony else that isn’t afraid to say a bad word.”
“It’s your fault I got used to it,” Berry says. “Listen, I can loan you some bits to get by, and the first round will be on me when I get my drinking buddy back, but I can’t give you booze as a filly.”
You sigh and sit down beside her.
“This sucks, dude.”
“Tell me about it,” she groans. “One of the best parts of having you around was that everypony thought we were doin it, so folks wouldn’t hit on me when I was drunk.”
“Oh yikes,” you mumble to her, pressing a hoof on her shoulder. “And you’re out here because.”
“I vomited on them in self defense.”
“Nice.”
“It was super effective.”
The two of you laugh together as Berry uses your back as a way to ease herself to her hooves. She presses a hoof to her head.
“Well, I think I’m off to get some shuteye and some mouthwash.”
“Mouthwash?” you ask. “Wouldn’t you rather have some hair of the dog?”
“Ah! Life hacks, Anon. Mouthwash has alcohol in it. So you get to get the vomit breath out and ease the headache at the same time.”
You blink, then grow the most devious smile.
“I shouldn’t have said that,” Berry mumbles. She turns and walks away.
“Hey, Berry!” you call after her. “Why didn’t we ever do it?”
She chuckles gently and shakes her head.
“You need to hold your liquor better, Anon. Like I said. First round’s on me.”
She trots off leaving you there in confusion.
“Huh.”
Well, at least you now have an option. Mouthwash isn’t limited by age. So heck with it. Let’s get trashed on mouthwash. In fact, you think Twilight has some at the castle.
You rise to your hooves and trot to the castle.
Then it hits you.
“OH WE DID IT DIDN’T WE?!”
You turn on your hooves, wanting to say something to Berry. Then you realize that would be awkward. And kinda thirsty.
And you have a thirst that can only be quenched by mouthwash.
You stand on your tippy-hooves to reach the top of the medicine cabinet. Lo and behold. There lies the mouthwash. 26.9% alcohol. Score.
With a flick of a hoof, the 1L plastic bottle falls in the sink with a clatter. But you pull it out and squeeze off the child-proof lock. Not so childproof now, is it?
You give it a sniff.
“Ew. Wintergreen. If it was peppermint, it would at least be like a fancy mixer.”
You raise the bottle to your creator.
“To your dental health.”
You take a long deep swig from the bottle and feel that beautiful burn tingle down your throat.
“Oh yeah. That’s it.”
You throw the bottle to the garbage can. It lands in the toilet.
“Naaaillled it,” you slur.
Other than it being hard to keep your head up straight, it feels good to feel the liquor in your veins again. You rise to your feet, then realize you have hooves, and get on all four.
“Hey Spiiiiike,” you call.
“Oh no,” you can hear down the hall.
“Come here! I wanna do stuff to ya.”
You walk out of the bathroom, and see him peeking out of his room.
“I don’t know if I’m more scared of what you said, or how long you were in that bathroom.”
“Trust me. It’s not that weird. *hic* I just wanna. Like. I unno.”
“Okay,” he says, stepping out of the room and closing it behind him. “Definitely the words. Are you okay?”
“Yah yeah, just-” you raise a hoof, limping along on three awkwardly as you mosey to your dragon friend. “Shhhhhhhhh. Trust me.”
“Now I really don’t trust you.”
“Okay, just. Here.” You step close to him. “Smell my breath.”
Your tummy rumbles a little, but you lean forward and breathe on him.
He recoils in fear, but then pauses.
“That was really minty,” he says. “Did Twilight get the wintergreen mouthwash I asked for?”
“Prollly,” you mumble. “You didn’t even smell thooough.”
“Okay,” he says. “One more time?”
“OOOOOOOKay!” you exclaim. You lean forward and breathe out. He leans in.
And then you realize your stomach isn’t happy about having a liter of mouthwash inside it.
Like a drunk ghost from ghostbusters, you unleash the blue fury all over Spike’s face and open nostrils.
You open your eyes and see spike’s horrified face. A soft belch escapes your mouth.
“Excuse me.”
“IT’S STILL IN MY EYES.”
Twilight closes the door to your room behind her as you cradle your head into a pillow to shut out all the light.
“Everything hurts,” you groan.
“Well, this is what we call instant karma, Anon,” Twilight says. “What did we learn?”
“Mouthwash is the devil’s liquor.”
“Or, maybe that Twilight is actually looking out for your best interests.”
You groan.
“Say it,” she says with her school teacher voice on. “Say your lesson.”
“Twilight is looking out for my best interests,” you say. “There, are you happy?”
“Yes. Now. Here’s a glass of water, and two aspirin. Tomorrow morning we’ll have eggs and toast for your hangover.”
“Thank youu.”
“You’re very welcome.”
Twilight wraps her hooves around you and squeezes you tightly.
“Please don’t squeeze me,” you mumble. “I am a little tube of toothpaste right now.”
“Yes, but you’re MY little tube of toothpaste.”
She lets go, trots out of the room, and closes the door behind you.
You release the pillow and look at your bedside table, where there is two aspirin. They seem to glow to you like a quest item in a video game. You pound them back without even thinking. You look for the water, but don’t register it on the bedside table.
Instead there’s a can.
You pick it up and inspect it.
It’s an 80 calorie light beer.
“She called it water,” you mumble. “That’s a sick joke. D$#@!~ Twilight.”
What a weird day. At one point, you went from possibly fresh with berry, to freshening your breath all over spike.
A least things are back to normal.