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// Interlude - A Pint of Treason 
// Story: Displaced Diet-y 
// by MetalBrony20 
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“Damn her! Damn her to the pits of Duat!” In the North-Easten corner of the city, far away from the houses and commercial shops and near invisible to the palace, sat a small bar. Situated amongst the many industrial buildings in the area, it looked unassuming, if not a little seedy. A sand battered sign, hanging above the door, swung limply upon rusted chains. In faded, but still legible letters, ‘The Sloshed Sphinx’ was inscribed. A single pane of rough glass served as the only window. Heavily stained and scratched, a neat spider web of cracks zig-zagged from the corner. Through all the accumulated filth, shafts of grotty light managed to pass through, offering a limited view into the establishment. Passing through the cracked wooden door, the interior was just as beat up as the outside.

Deep scratches and grooves were carved into tables and chairs. The sparing number of ornaments and other trinkets were securely nailed to the walls, alongside tattered, ripped papyrus scrolls and posters that hung at odd angles. The stone floor, despite how often it was washed, always seemed to have a slight stickiness to it, the smell of aged alcohol clinging to the tiles from many a spill and brawl. And through the air, the sounds of merriment clashed with rowdy, and sometimes even bawdy shouting and singing. 

This was a place that the unfortunates and dregs of society, or indeed those of a less social disposition, spent their evenings off. From disgruntled metal workers frustrated with their overbearing boss, to mildly sociopathic bazaar stall owners, just itching for someone to throw a punch at them. It was the type of place for all sorts of illicit dealings and barely legal activity to thrive in. Medicines of questionable effect, imported weaponry, to even mercenaries who were looking for the highest bidder. These all found their place within the walls of the Sloshed Sphinx. Despite the attendants mostly composed of occupations and attitudes held in poor regards by polite society, some unexpected folk often took a seat behind the counter or at one of the beaten tables, lamenting their woes to pints of cheap booze, amongst the rest of the unfortunates.

For one such individual was a mare that went by the name of Mnshi. Grasped tightly in her grip, a weighty glass was held up to her lips, gulping deeply from the contents. Letting out a small sigh, she all but slammed it down onto the tabletop, her lips curved into a sneer. “I’d spent so long climbing the ranks, so long gaining the respect of my peers, and this is what I get for all my effort? Absolute crap!” She growled, pushing her nearly empty glass to the side. 

“My apologies, Second Commander. Please, do go on.” Standing in front of the agitated mare, the bartender/owner of the joint listened intently. Although, standing would be incorrect. Her immense serpentine body was coiled behind the counter, filling up a significant portion of the floor. A disinterested look on her face, she busied herself with cleaning a selection of mismatched glassware, sliding them into the shelving behind her.

Her name was Lazuli, part of an incredibly rare breed of pony referred to as Lamians. From their bellies down, their legs were replaced with one long serpentine tail, stretching the length of several people. In spite of her odd and quite frightful appearance, Lazuli was an incredibly passive person, her thick skin proving invaluable in the profession she was involved so deeply with. Regardless of the customers' opinions, controversial or not, she would never deny a drink. After all, money is money, with the one exception being if they dared to try and damage the bar. 

All sorts of patrons attended, with one of the most famous being the Second Commander of the Royal Akhethran army. An irregular customer, Mnshi attended every few weeks, usually in any number of states of frustration. Tonight, it seemed she was infuriated beyond all measure. Her nasty temper was enough to make most ponies and zebras cower in fear, afraid she would grievously injure them in some manner or another. An easy assumption to make, given her stacked figure. Not only was she pretty tall, even for an earth pony, but her form was swollen with a considerable amount of muscle. 

Thick cords of pure power surged under her deep red skin, bulging and flexing with even the slightest of movements. From her immense biceps, to her chiseled core, to her toned ass, she was a paragon of strength. And yet, here she was, perched upon an ancient, creaking stool, chugging pints of alcohol of questionable quality. “That blue bitch stole my throne from me! That gluttonous, sloppy fat ass somehow became ruler, and what has she done?”

The bartender raised her eyebrow, sighing quietly. Lazuli knew exactly who Mnshi was talking about, but she still wanted to know the details behind Mnshi’s fury. “No. Please enlighten me, Second Commander.” 

“Nothing! Nothing that's what! It’s been nearly two weeks since power was exchanged from Governor Hetramila and the High Priestess Zanubia. I would have expected her to maybe, just maybe go out and fix up some of the problems in this city. But no. All she’s been doing is waddling around the palace, stuffing meat into her flabby face and guzzling all the cake in sight!” She angrily thumped the table, rattling a number of glasses.

“And?”

“And what?! She’s utterly incompetant as a leader! No drive, no ambition, no anything, aside from stuffing more junk into her mouth. And do you want to know the worst thing is? Everyone loves her! You can’t go anywhere without every other word someone says being ‘I love the new Pharaoh’ or ‘Isn’t the new Pharaoh great’.” Mnshi snapped sarcastically, animatedly waving her arms around mockingly.

“I see. And these people are wrong in your eyes?” 

“Of course! They’re just blinded by the shake up in the status quo. Of course they're going to get excited for the first ruler in decades, but that doesn't matter if she’s terrible at being a leader. So what if she’s a pegasi, so what if she bears an ancient crown? That doesn't matter one deben if her only motive is to eat all our food. For Ra’an’s sake, the farmers have struggled for years to maintain good harvests. I’ve had to defend the farms from mercenaries, raiders and even armies that tried to steal every last grain and date. And every time, I’ve slicked my khopesh with their filthy blood, saving our people from famine and starvation.” 

“Frankly, I’m utterly sick of this crap. I’ve saved this kingdom from pillaging and ransaking more times than that blubbery behemoth has pounds in her ass. By the goddesses, she doesn't even know the first thing about our politics, our economy, our military. And yet all the religious zealots believe her to be some symbol of our deities, despite her knowledge of anything religious being approximately zero! The only reason she’s not made a mistake is because Zanubia and Hetramila are hand holding her the entire way, like a child!” She growled, finishing the last dregs in her glass, slipping a small pile of bronze coins to Lazuli. 

“I will correct the wrongs wrought upon this land, sooner, rather than later. The die of Th’tra has been cast and a new Queen shall rule in place of that pampered hog.” Lifting herself to her feet, Mnshi glanced around at the other patrons. The majority paid her no mind, chatting amongst their friends. The ones that caught her eye, quickly looked away, not willing to confront the muscle bound soldier over any plans of Regicide they may or may not have heard.

“Sure, do whatever you want. But if you fail in whatever mission you're going to try, for the love of all that is holy, keep me out of this.” Lazuli sighed, collecting the tip, starting to clean the glass.

“Oh, don’t you worry a thing. If all goes to plan, I’ll ensure you’re handsomely rewarded with all the gold and gems you desire.” With a slight nod of her head, she quickly wandered over to the exit, grasping the bent, corroded handle. Striding over the threshold and into the cold dusty street, she scanned the street for any signs of life. Satisfied it was deserted, she quickly dived into a nearby alley way. 

Behind her, the door to the Sloshed Sphinx closed with a loud clunk, the streets becoming deathly quiet, as Mnshi disappeared into the gloom.