//------------------------------//
// Chapter 3 - Intoxication  
// Story: Dry Spell 
// by StickySyrup 
//------------------------------//


Chapter 3 - Intoxication


“ROUND FIVE!” Soarin’ yelled as he planted two large pitchers of a strong unknown cocktail in front of them. The two mares laughed at a joke they indulged in before he returned. He could see they were starting to get really drunk. Soarin’ looked at the clock behind the bar. It read 11:56pm. They had only been there just over an hour and already the room was spinning. Putting a hoof around the jug, he poured his friends a drink before himself. Bluewave winked in response. He smiled back.
They drank and shared stories for the remainder of the pitchers. The club began to play harder music, and he could see Spitfire looking at the dancefloor with lust. He knew what she wanted, and he wanted it too. The alcohol needed to be burned off, and the only way to do that was dance!
Bluewave got up and made her way to the bar, empty glasses levitating in front of her. She stumbled down onto the dance floor, making Soarin’ and Spitfire laugh at her poor drunken hoof-eye coordination. The two friends were alone, but they didn’t say anything for another minute until Spitfire broke the silence.
“I think she likes you.”
Soarin’ blushed. He had chosen his target, and Spitfire knew it. She smiled back at him in reassurance.
“You think so? I like her, she’s awesome.”
“Then go for it stud! I think she’s been going through a dry spell too.”
A sudden burst of alcohol fuelled confidence surged through him. He finished the last of his drink in one foul swoop, and then another before standing and making his way onto the dancefloor.
“I’ll send her your way!” Spitfire yelled after him.
The dance floor was an ecstatic jungle of bodies, sweat, mist, coloured lights and pounding bass. The rhythm of the club had poisoned the dancers, putting them in a collective trance. The heartbeat of the music flowed through them all as the smooth sounds erupted from the daunting speakers. Soarin’ began to move. He didn’t really know what he was doing, but then again, no pony did. He went with it, feeling the beat under his hoof. The lights span in a mixture of alcohol and confusion as he moved his body. The music was brilliant. He looked up to the large DJ booth to see a white unicorn with an electric blue mane and purple glasses. He didn’t recognise her, but the newcomer was good. The music was fast paced and heavy. The blue pegasus danced on by himself, getting in photos and enjoying himself, by himself. This, however soon came to an end.