“Archer?”
He made a bestial growling noise, in defiance of his otherwise human physiology. Extreme fatigue did that to people.
“Um, just so you know... It’s 10 A.M. Twilight wanted me to make sure you got up.”
He exposed a single bloodshot eye to the outside world. He saw that little dragon, just standing there. Waiting.
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you, lizard man.”
“What?”
“I’m not leaving this bed until King Jove sends for me with a golden wagon filled with French fancies and sympathy cards.”
“Uh...”
“And a danish. I could really use a danish right now. And some coffee. Criminy, coffee sounds good right now.”
“They have those at Sugarcube Corner.”
“Is Pinkie still there?”
“...She lives there.”
Archer immediately stood up, still draped in the comforter he had been wrapped in all night. He strode forward with a renewed purpose. His new mission was to procure another delicious Equestrian pastry or two, and preferably some hot water mixed with ground-up caffeine beans.
But first, he had to forget he was on a balcony, walk straight off the edge, and land in a painful knot of limbs, tangled bedsheets, and an ego so bruised it was beginning to resemble a rotten pear
So he did.
***
The Equestrians wandering the streets made way for him, like they were scared to approach him. Understandable. He was tired, ugly, and occasionally made deep rumbling noises that could indicate either bloodlust or extreme hunger. Or both. There was an ogre living back home who made the exact same spectacle every time he went down to the slaughterhouse to buy dinner.
He threw open the door to the sweet shop, thoroughly spooking the bystanders inside.
“Mzarughmaphm, n’ coffee.”
Pinkie, being the confoundingly helpful person that she was, immediately appeared beside him with a tray containing exactly that.
“Murmble gurmble.”
“You’re welcome!”
***
“What I mean is, he’s just-”
“Hard to get along with?”
“Yeah.”
The sauna was supposed to be the place one could go to relax and escape life’s worries. And for Rarity, it was. For Twilight, it was just somewhere to be tormented by the possibility of failing her self-imposed assignment.
“Mm, I had the same impression. He’s the stubborn type. It takes a steady hand and a constant push to get through to ponies like him.”
“But that’s the thing! He’s not a pony at all! He’s this weird creature from Celestia-knows-where and I don’t know if I’m getting through to him, or- or if I’m just making him angry or depressing him or making him feel some human emotion we don’t even have a name for, or-”
“Twilight.”
“Hmm?”
“You’re rambling.”
“Sorry.”
Rarity took in a lungful of humidified air. She let a cloud of it back out, but still had no good answer.
“You can’t rush these things, you know. Just be a good friend, and he’ll trust you eventually.”
“Yeah, or he’ll turn out to be a complete paranoid psychopath and never trust anyone! It’s happened before!”
“Twilight, allow me to explain, once again, why you’re worrying about nothing.”
***
“It’s like watching a train wreck.”
“Yeah... a delicious train wreck.”
Quoth the Equestrian colts Snips and Snails, upon witnessing Archer consume his thirty-second baked good that morning.
The human’s inexplicably voracious appetite had rapidly attained legendary status among the denizens of Ponyville, and had drawn a proportionate crowd. Some were sickened, some were amazed, and all were riveted on the strange creature currently making an absolute pig of himself at a near-overloaded table in Sugarcube Corner.
“Oy! Lizard Eyes!” he yelled, pointing at a wall-eyed pegasus hovering near the checkout counter.
“What? Me?”
“Yeah, throw me another!”
“B-but you’ve already had-”
“YOUR PASTRIES ARE TOO TINY! ARCHER DEMANDS MORE!”
With a frightened squeak, the unnamed spectator scooped up a muffin from a nearby tray and pitched it into the rapidly-accumulating pile of empty plates and cupcake papers. It was instantly consumed and drowned in a swig of coffee.
“Why are we feeding him, again?”
“Because he’s hungry,” was the obvious answer from Pinkie Pie.
“What’s he going to pay for this with?”
“...I’m not gonna ask for his money. You can. I mean, if you really want to.”
***
“Angel, I really think you should consider apologizing to Archer for yesterday.”
Angel shook his head.
“Now, really. You weren’t very polite, and it took me fifteen whole minutes to stitch his face back together!”
Angel tilted his head inquisitively and raised a single bunny eyebrow.
“Well, because he was hurt, is why! You know better than anyone, I can’t leave somepony injured like that. And I certainly can’t leave somepony injured by one of my animals. Wouldn’t you agree?”
The rabbit inched away furtively.
“So. Are you going to go apologize?”
Angel thought for a minute. He then shook his head.
“Oh. Okay.”
***
“GO! GO! GO! GO!”
Archer had climbed to ninety-nine. The delicious train wreck was running out of steam.
“Pinkie, I don’t think I can-”
“Come on! Let’s make it a hundred! ONE MORE!”
The chant of “ONE MORE” was taken up by every Equestrian in the store. Archer slowly vanished the last cream puff from its plate, and shot his fists into the air as the crowd went wild.
Pinkie then appeared next to him with a microphone, with no logical reason as usual.
“Mister Archer! Mister Archer! You’ve just broken the previous Sugarcube Corner Sweet Eater record by a whole half of a sweet! What are you going to do next?!”
Archer leaned over in a vaguely conspiratorial fashion.
“I think I’m gonna be sick.”
“What?”
“No, seriously, I’m gonna be sick. I need a seltzer or something.”
“A what?”
Archer realized, far too late, that he had made a horrible mistake.
***
“...And besides, if he were really too antisocial to become friends with anypony, he’d probably have tried to escape by force before now, don’t you think?”
“I guess that’s true....”
The sauna had done its job, more or less. Twilight was no longer strung out worse than a blankflank on prom night, and the two had finally managed to relax.
And then Pinkie Pie showed up.
“GUYS!”
“What?” asked Twilight, after she picked herself up from an embarrassingly over-the-top scream and tumble off of her chair.
“I think something’s wrong with Archer!”
“What!?”
“Yeah, he’s throwing up out behind Sugarcube Corner, and he needs a ‘saltsing,’ or something.”
Stunned, silent disbelief hung in the air alongside the steam for a brief moment.
“Rarity, the spa’s off.”
“But-!”
It was too late to say anything else, for Twilight was gone.
***
To attempt to describe the scene about to unfold would be to do a disservice to the sheer unpleasantness of it, and to offend the sensibilities of most or all of the people currently reading. About three things need to be noted so the story can progress unimpeded.
First, Archer was behind the building that housed Sugarcube Corner. Second, no one save Twilight dared to find out what he was doing, nor why he had been in such a hurry to get there. And third, he was unconditionally and irrevocably sick as a dog.
“Archer? Are you okay?”
“Whyyyyy~”
“I’m coming back there, Archer. I need to make sure you’re- Ew!”
By this point Twilight had discovered precisely why Archer had been hiding from the rest of existence.
“Help meeee...”
“What happened to you!?”
“Too much junk food. Need an antacid, or some seltzer water, or- hurk!”
What happened next will not be described, no matter how much you ask.
“Oh... kay. I think we need to take you to Fluttershy’s.”
“No. M’never setting foot in there again.”
“Not to be mean, Archer...” He felt himself hoisted up by an unseen force and laid flat across the unicorn’s back. “...but you don’t really have a say in the matter.”
“Please, dear Father above, make it stop...”
“You need to stop moaning, too.”
“I’m going to throw up on you. I swear.”
“You do and you’re going to be crawling home.”
***
“Will you apologize for... a maple-glazed carrot?”
Angel considered again. He shook his head, again.
“Will you apologize for two maple-glazed carrots?”
He twitched one ear and looked at Fluttershy with an amused expression.
“I’m not going over three, Angel.”
He kept the look up.
“Fine. Will you do it for-”
Someone knocked at the front door.
“Hello?”
“Fluttershy, it’s me, Twilight. We’ve got a medical emergency.”
***
“Um, I might be wrong, but, uhh.... I thought he never wanted my help again.”
“Please, Miss Shy, have mercy-”
“Hush. Fluttershy, I’m really sorry about all this. I wouldn’t even have to bother you, but someone-” Twilight gestured accusingly at Archer’s prone form. “-thought it would be a good idea to try and break the Sweet Eating record at Sugarcube Corner.”
“Wait, you mean...!”
“...He ate exactly one hundred pastries, baked goods, and sugary confections in a single sitting. I don’t even think he paid for them!”
“Oh believe me, lady, I am definitely paying for them.” Archer groaned and rolled onto his side.
“...He said he needed some salter, or an acid?”
“I said ‘seltzer or antacid.’”
“Oh!” Fluttershy’s expression brightened. “I know just the thing! I’ll be right back!”
***
“Now, sit down here and drink this.”
“This isn’t poison is it.”
“You don’t have any room to complain. Drink it.”
Archer downed the glass of fizzing water, grimacing as he did so.
“Well, it tastes like medicine, which is a good sign. So, is this some hocus-pocus Fae cure, or is it supposed to-” He immediately interrupted himself with one of the louder belches he had produced in his lifetime. After it was over, Twilight appeared on the verge of fainting, Fluttershy was holding her nose but otherwise happy, and Angel had been KO’d outright. “I guess that answers that question.”
“Now, Archer, do you have anything to say to Fluttershy?”
“Mm, thanks. I guess.”
“I’m sorry, I couldn’t hear that.”
“I said 'thank you, Miss Fluttershy,' for being the only Equestrian in Ponyville who knows how to cure nausea. I’d be in a lot of trouble if it weren’t for you.”
Fluttershy beamed. “Oh, it was nothing. I’m just happy I could help.”
“Well, glad we got that cleared up. I’m gonna go back to Sugarcube Corner and finish my coffee.”
“What? No!” Fluttershy pinned him to the chair. “You simply have to stay here and rest! I can’t let you leave until I’m sure you’re well!”
Archer aimed a pleading gaze at Twilight. “Come on, this is ridiculous!”
“You know what else is ridiculous? You eating yourself sick with a month’s supply of pastries. So you’ll just have to learn to live with it! Bye, Fluttershy. Take good care of him.”
“Oh, don’t worry, Twilight. It can’t be that much different from taking care of animals.”
“Hey!” yelled Archer, offended.
“Have fun, you two.”