//------------------------------// // Chapter 3—Consequences without Truth // Story: Double Date // by OleGrayMane //------------------------------//   “Goodnight gentlecolts, pleasant dreams,” Lotus trilled as she closed the door of the spa behind them. The two cousins stood silent in the cold, damp night air, their eyes slowly adjusting to the dark. If it hadn’t been dark enough already, the spa ponies extinguished the lights inside, leaving them with only the light from the last quarter moon. Neither moved or said a word, as if they were expecting somepony or something to tell them what to do next. Jay slowly got his wits about him. “I, ah...” He trailed off, not knowing what he should say, if anything. “I think we, uh, I think...” Again he drifted off, trying to make sense of the evenings events. “Ya think what?” Macintosh shot back tersely. “I'm thinking that we might have just been, uh, used.” The big red pony stared angrily off into the dark, his mind an unpleasant combination of embarrassment and resentment. “Uh, what do you think?” Jay persisted. “Maybe. Ah don't know.” “So, uh, do you want to—” Mac brusquely cut him off. “Nope, you?” “Uh no, no, not right now.” This had been one of the roughest days of his life. Nothing seemed to be working out the way he had planned. The date should have been enjoyable, relaxing, but instead it ended up being—confusing. The disappointments, the hour, and the receding effects of the wine finally caught up with him. Exhausted, his spirit sank like a stone. “You know what I think...” he resumed. “Ah don't wanna know what you think no more,” Macintosh snapped hostilely. “I think,” his voice quavered, like a child on the verge of crying. “I think I just want to go home.” Macintosh turned and looked at his cousin's hollow stare. The confident pony he had known since his youth, the one with the bright ideas, the one who always knew best, had been replaced by a pony who might actually be frightened. “Comon' Jay, Ah'll git ya home,” Mac said softly. Slowly the two began to walk through the side streets to the road that led to Sweet Apple Acres. The walking and the cold air began to reinvigorated Jay and as they reached the edge of town, he felt he needed to say something to Mac. “Mac, I want you to know I'm—I'm real sorry about tonight, okay?” “That's all right, ya didn't know.” “Yeah,” he replied guiltily and quickly changed the subject. “Say Mac?” “Yeah?” “Remember years ago when we found the jug that Granny had hidden in the kitchen?” “Yeah,” Mac snorted. “Ah remember, and Ah remember we got in big trouble fur that.” “Right, we sure did. I was thinking though, maybe we should go find that jug again.” Macintosh smiled. His cousin, and his penchant for trouble, was back. Well, if there was an occasion for finding the jug, tonight just might be it. “Don't worry cuz, ya won't have no trouble finding it, it's still in the same place.” “Good, that's nice to know. Thanks, Mac, for everything.” Macintosh shook his head in disbelief as the two walked in silence down the dark country road towards home. ~~~ Breakfast the next morning was anything but silent, but even silence would have been too much for Jay to bear. Several hours with Granny's hidden jug in the wee hours had taken its toll, and although it had helped him ease his mind then, he was paying for it now. Big Macintosh wasn't himself either. Instead of plowing his way through the usual four bowls of oats he sat quietly drinking a cup of black, astringent tea, staring straight ahead to avoid any eye contact whatsoever with Applejack. Jay remained motionless with his head in his hooves trying to contain the pounding pain. He looked down at his half consumed cup of tea so he would not have to face his cousin's wrath. She sat across from them, her mouth pulled taught, her angry glare darting between Macintosh and Jay, looking for an opening to attack. Compounding Jay's self inflicted misery was the hostile manner Applejack seem to be eating her breakfast. Clack! Her spoon struck the edge of the bowl each time she took a mouthful of oats. She chewed slowly and deliberately, never diverting her icy glare. Apple Bloom was oblivious to the cold war taking place next to her. She was engaged in the telling of some pointless story of the schoolyard to nopony in particular. “—so Sweetie Belle said you better not do that and Scootaloo said yes Ah am just watch—” Clack! Applejack took another mouthful of oats and glared. Mac took another sip of tea, the cup rattling in its saucer. Jay's skull came one step closer to cracking. “—and Scootaloo said see Ah told ya Ah would, and Sweetie Belle said she couldn't believe it—” Oh Celestia, strike the child dead, he begged. Or me, whatever it takes to end this. “—and Sweetie Belle said Ah betcha' cain't do it again and Scootaloo said—” “For heavens sake ya little flibbertigibbet,” Granny chastised, “finish up and get to school now. Ah'll have no more tardy reports from Miss Cheerilee.” “Yes, Ma'am,” she said as she stuffed one last spoonful of oats in her mouth and trotted off to get her things. “Bye ya'll, bye Cousin Jay.” Jay continued to stare downwards but gave a perfunctory wave. He was free of her shrill babbling, but the younger sister's departure meant Applejack would have one less reason to hold her tongue. “My that child sure does go on,” Granny chortled as she gathered up the little filly's bowl and headed for the kitchen. “Ah've no idea how she eats so much with all that talkin' goin' on.” With Granny safely puttering in the kitchen, Applejack's ire was unleashed. Her hooves slammed down rattling the dishware. The suddenness and the noise made Jay wince, but Macintosh continued staring stone faced at the far wall as if nothing was amiss. “Which one of you boys gonna 'fess up and tell me what in tarnation went on last night,” she hissed at them. Macintosh rose, avoiding eye contact with his sister and announced, “Ah have to git ta work.” Turning around he headed for the door like a wind-up toy. “Big Macintosh!” Applejack snapped as she turned toward him. “Macintosh! You git back here right now!” The big red pony continued on his course of escape. Jay only wished he had such an easy route. Applejack wheeled back to her cousin and demanded, “Julius Orange—” “Oh, not with that again AJ...” “You tell me exactly what went on last night or Ah will kick yur flank all the way back to Manehatten!” she clamored. “Listen, it was complicated, and right now I don't feel—“ Once again, Granny rescued him. “You boys got in awfully late last night, dinya?” she yelled from the kitchen. “Yes, Ma'am, a bit late,” Jay replied as he decided to finish the rest of his now cold tea. “Ah, figured, but that's what you young fellers do.” She held a stack of cookie sheets over the stove and let them drop, reproducing the sound of a train wreck. Jay choked on his tea as the metallic clatter echoed inside his tortured skull. The Apple mares seemed bent on killing him this morning. If only they would hurry and finish the job... “Granny, you okay?” Applejack called out in concern. “Oh, my, just call me butter hooves,” she said as she peered through the doorway and gave a sly wink. “Well, I hope ya'll had a nice time,” Granny said and returned to her work in the kitchen. “Hrmmm,” was all Jay's throbbing brain could dredge up. He returned to holding his head tightly as if the external pressure would somehow balance the internal and make the pain go away. “Looks like ya even had a little party when ya'll got back,” Granny Smith mused as she prepared for her next assault on Jay's frazzled nerves. Dammit, he remembered, I didn't put away that jug. “Guests should show some courtesy,” she admonished as she picked up a cast iron frying pan in her left hoof. “They should leave an ole mare's kitchen in order before they retire.” She slammed the pan into the side of the stove as hard as her aged body could manage. The rebound caused her to stumble backwards but the blow had the desired effect of causing the pan to ring like a bell. Jay felt the vibrations travel through his body as if he was trapped in Canterlot's highest bell tower at noon. The vibrations decided to settle down in his teeth so they could truncheon his dehydrated brain. He laid his head on the table and whimpered. Applejack could no longer contain her snickering and laughed openly. Granny stood in the doorway, one hoof on the frame and the other at her hip holding the instrument of Jay's torture. “Why don't 'cha go upstairs and get cleaned up there nephew. Havin' a nice wash and brush up will make ya' feel loads better. Git some good healthy water in ya.” She concluded her instructions with, “And there's aspirin in the medcin' cabinet, ya'll be wantin' that too Ah expect.” “Yes, Ma'am. I'm sorry...” “Oh, ya don't need to be sorry, ya look sorry enough already,” Granny taunted. “Now go take care of yurself. Don't forget ya got business to tend to today.” Jay hung his pained head and headed upstairs while Granny went back to the table to sit with Applejack. With her victim out of earshot, she defiantly placed the pan on the table and stated, “And that's how ya do it.” Laughter from the two mares filled the room. As it dwindled, Applejack wiped a tear from her eye, and her mood became serious. She wanted answers, and Granny Smith might just be the one to pry it out of the two stallions. “Granny, you saw how Mac was acting this morning. Why he didn't eat a thing—tain't like him at all. Those two did sumptin' bad last night, Ah just know it.” “Maybe they did and maybe they didn't,” the old mare replied casually, “that's their business. If they gots something to say about it, then they'll tell us.” Applejack wasn't satisfied with her grandmother's apparent lack of curiosity. “Ya gotta get the truth outta them Granny. 'Cause if they did something bad they gotta be punished.” “Well,” Granny chuckled, “Ah've dealt yur cousin some punishment just now, and his body is gonna punish him enough for his drinkin' last night.” “What about Mac then, if he don't get punished how is he gonna learn anything?” “There ya go agin' tellin' me how to raise your big brother.” “Sorry, but—” “Never mind, never mind,” Granny interrupted. “Yur brother is smart enough to learn on his own. Let me tell ya a story about him from before ya were born. He was just a tiny feller, there in the kitchen with me whilst your folks were out working the farm.” “Ah was cookin' up a hearty lunch, 'cause yur poppa's appetite was twice that of yur brother's, and ya know that little foal was just fascinated by the ole stove. He wanted to play with it just like his granny was doin', but Ah told him that it were hot and it was gonna burn him. But he wouldn’t listen. He was a stubborn youngin', it's a trait in our here family.” Granny winked and Applejack blushed. “'Course the minute my back was turned fur just a second, Ah heard him cryin'. He was sittin' over by the stove cryin' and cryin' after burning his hoof. He wouldn't believe me, no, he had to learn it the hard way. But ya know what, he had the good sense never to touch a hot stove agin.” Applejack nodded thoughtfully at Granny's tale. “Now, yur brother is smart enough to learn from his mistakes, so Ah'm not worried about him. Yur cousin on the other hoof, well he's got problems learnin' lessons—he's the type who'll touch that there stove twice. Don't get me wrong, he's a smart pony, it's just that he gits too full of ideas, and don't think twice about what he's doin' to others or even hisself. If'n there's a pony round here you should be worried about my dear, it's him.” ~~~ The cold water on his face and a quick mane brushing helped return Jay's looks to respectability, and the aspirin helped ease his pounding head. His appointment at Sugarcube Corner was almost upon him, and now, like Mac, he could use work as an excuse to prevent further questioning by Applejack. As he walked to Ponyville, the mid morning sun felt good on his body, something pure and therapeutic. But soon his headache returned and his face felt flush. It was as if all his blood needed to be in his head to escape what was happening farther south in his body. What initially started as a small gurgle—which he assumed was due to only having tea for breakfast—grew to resemble the defective plumbing of a Manehatten tenement. He froze on the road just outside of Ponyville as he cramped up, and his previously hot head broke out in a cold sweat. Keep it together, he pleaded with his body, you can do it. You've done it before, don't fail me now. The cramps retreated, the sweat began to evaporate, and the mere absence of pain made him feel immeasurably better. Relieved, he quickly but cautiously completed his journey to Sugarcube Corner. He paused outside its entrance, took a breath, and stepped inside. Where previously the smells of the shop had brought back memories of his foal-hood, now it only brought back memories of what took place on the road. The sweats returned and a disquieting feeling overtook his entire body as the nausea began to gather strength. Oh please Celestia, not in here! He closed his eyes in concentration to drive the feeling down. But the concentration was shattered as a pony who was entirely too pink and too shrill seemed to appear out of nowhere. “Hi'ya! Welcome to Sugarcube Corner!” Pinkie blared in his face. “What can I get for you today?” He struggled to speak through the rising pain, “I'm...” “Yeeees...” “I'm...” “...here to buy something?” Pinkie snapped back. Jay rose a hoof to hold her off for a moment while he focused on getting words, and only words, out of his mouth. “I'm Jay Orange—” He gulped. “I'm here to—” “Oh! Hey Mrs. Cake,” she screeched across the shop, “it's that salespony you were expecting.” Pinkie peered curiously into Jay's face trying to determine what was wrong. “And he doesn't look too good.” “I'm coming dearie!” Mrs. Cake called back. “I'll be right there.” Pinkie continued to get dangerously close to his face. “You really don't look too good...” “Pinkie!” Mrs. Cake scolded and the pink mare pulled back. “We've talked about this before haven't we? You need to give ponies their personal space.” She trotted up to where the two were standing, but stopped in her tracks seeing that Pinkie's appraisal of the situation was accurate. “Mr. Orange—are you all right?” she asked quietly. Jay nodded. “I just need—a second.” He bowed his head and closed his eyes, thinking only of breathing in and out. In a few seconds the spasm had passed. He opened his eyes again and smiled weakly with a sigh of relief. Mrs. Cake smiled back and said, “Here, come into the office and sit down, I'll have Pinkie get us some nice tea. Pinkie—peppermint.” “Yes, Ma'am!” she yelled as Jay winced. “Right away!” She trotted off to the kitchen to prepare the beverage. “Thank you Mrs. Cake,” Jay sighed, “you are very kind.” ~~~ Mrs. Cake hushed Pinkie as she entered the cramped office with the teapot. “Go fetch the mister, then prepare our surprise,” she instructed. Pinkie nodded and winked as she went off. “Try this tea Mr. Orange, I think it will help you feel much better.” She poured cups for them both. “I drank this a lot when I was pregnant with the twins, it helped a lot with my, uh, problems.” Jay wiped his brow with a handkerchief as he took a sip. The hot brew went down easily and the bright refreshing flavor made him feel almost normal. He swallowed a full mouthful and recovered enough to converse. “Thank you Ma'am, you are truly kind. Your husband is so blessed.” Jay smiled charmingly. Mrs Cake giggled, “Oh, you! And speak of the—” Mr. Cake squeezed his gangly frame past his wife as he introduced himself, “Carrot Cake, nice to finally meet you Mr. Orange.” “Pleased to meet you too,” Jay replied as he emptied his cup. “I was just saying how blessed you are to have such a wonderful wife.” “Yes, I am. Thank you, Mr. Orange.” Mr. Cake hugged his blushing wife. “Please, call me Jay.” “Okay Jay, so what do you have to show us today?” “I came to tell you about Orange Imports's wonderful line of fresh spices and how we can help make your delicious products even better, at very reasonable prices.” The Cakes nodded at each other and smiled at the very reasonable prices part. “Just let me get out some product literature here—” “Pssst!” With uncharacteristic quiet, Pinkie signaled for her employer's attention. “Now?” she whispered. Mrs. Cakes waved her off for a second so that she could interrupt the salespony's pitch. “Mister, uh, Jay. We wanted to apologize for yesterday's misunderstanding. Sometimes we aren't that good at scheduling, and well, things got out of control.” “Oh, that's quite all right Mrs. Cake, I understand completely.” He began to place the literature describing the types and origins of his company's spices on the table for the Cakes to inspect. “But we do want to apologize,” she continued demurely, “and we wanted to make something special for you to make up for our error.” She waved to Pinkie waiting just outside the doorway, “Go ahead, dearie, bring it in.” “You are too generous.” Jay smiled nervously, awaiting the 'something' they were going to produce. His hooves shook as he quickly poured another cup of tea to quiet his stomach. “We made this special, just for you,” Pinkie declared as she trotted in with a round cake frosted with chocolate. She placed the cake on top of the literature right in front of him. It was no ordinary cake, for beneath the chocolate glaze there were two layers of sponge cake separated with a thick yellow custard that glistened as it oozed out the sides. “We hope you enjoy our little treat as we talk business,” Mr. Cake said proudly. “Pinkie—plates please?” She trotted out to get the plates and required utensils while Jay looked at the treat that sat before him. He took another slug of tea and grinned at his hosts. “Why it's lovely.” The pink mare pranced back into the office balancing the plates, forks and a single knife on the tip of her nose like a trained seal. Mrs. Cake retrieved the items and passed them around before taking the knife and cutting narrow slices from the cake. The pressure of the knife pushed out the yellow filling. Jay felt the nausea rising and tried to wash it down with the remainder of his tea. One of the slices was placed on the plate in front of him. It slowly toppled over, letting the yellow custard creep out in slow motion, like a thick, shiny wave. “Enjoy,” exclaimed Mr. Cake as he and the other ponies took up their forks and began to consume the treat. Jay was less than eager. He steeled himself by taking a breath and holding it, he reached for his fork, then exhaled. Using the side of the fork he cut off a piece of the cake, and brought it towards his mouth. So far, so good. As he did so, his hosts paused and looked at him, desiring approval of their offering. Jay grinned queasily and began to open his mouth, but as he did, a piece the cake fell from the fork. It was quickly followed by a viscous glob of custard that landed on the table with a splat. Jay dropped the fork and scrambled to get to his hooves. He had little time left. He clamber over the pink mare, through the doorway, and into the kitchen. His panicked eyes searched for an escape route—there through the back door and out into the yard! Safely outside he assumed a position like a donkey about to bray. He breathed rapidly and heavily awaiting the inevitable. He felt his throat tighten and his face swell as if he was being strangled. But there was no blessed relief, only a ghastly gurgling as if he was actually being throttled. Three faces peered in horror from the door to the kitchen, watching their tortured guest, The faces formed a totem pole of ponies: on the bottom Mrs. Cake, with her husband above her, and improbably high near the top of the door frame was Pinkie Pie. All three winced in unison as Jay was overcome with yet another spasm. Pinkie looked down at her employers and said “I told you we should have gone with a nice éclair.” ~~~ The Ponyville trip had become an unmitigated disaster. First there was Rich, then the date, now this. How could he ever face the Cakes again? They were kind and polite and understood he was 'not well' as Mrs. Cake said, but how could he ever go back there? They had kept the brochures and reassured him they would look them over as they helped him wobble out the front door. He made his unsteady way down the road till he came to the little café where it seemed he had been every day since he arrived. Jay found a table in the shade and unceremoniously plopped himself down without saying a word. The waiter quickly made his way to the table and asked, “And what may I—” He stopped abruptly. He looked at Jay's bloodshot eyes, drooping jaw, and forlorn look, then made a gesture with his hoof as if he was drinking from a bottle. Jay gave him a slack jawed nod of acknowledgment. The waiter nodded and returned a knowing wink. “We'll get you fixed up right away,” he said as he scurried off. Jay stared blankly at the late morning passersby. Thinking of them as customers brought him no joy. The young fillies out shopping on the beautiful day did not attract his attention. He was empty, beaten, a failure. The waiter returned with two drinks for him. A large glass of sparkling water and a smaller glass of thick green goo. “First the little one, all at once—hold your nose if you have to. Then start drinking the water, but not so fast, understand?” Jay reached for the small glass obediently, too defeated to even ask what it contained. “Good,” the waiter said solemnly. “Keep drinking and I'll bring you all you need. We'll have you back on your hooves in no time.” Holding his nose and closing his eyes, Jay tossed down the green goo and immediately washed it down with the water so he wouldn't taste anything. He took a deep breath and started nursing the remaining water while he contemplated his sorry state. This wasn't the way things were supposed to turn out for Jay Orange. He was the maker of the deal, the up-and-coming salespony that all the pretty fillies wanted to be with. Here he was with two blown deals, and a date that he didn't even want to think about. How could this happen? He finished his water and before he could even signal for the waiter, the efficient server had come and gone with another glass. There's a pony who knows how to do his job, thought Jay. I used to be like that. Jay sat sipping his water, thinking. How did it go all so wrong? With Rich the answer was easy—the pony was a greedy ass. He thinks his customers are bumpkins and that he is Celestia's gift to retail. Well I'd like to see him survive in Manehatten or even Fillydelphia, they would eat him alive. He snorted at the idea of the pompous hay bag trying to make it in a real market. The home office would figure out how to get Rich in line and he would at least get some credit for the contract. And the Cakes, well that was a personal embarrassment and not an entire business disaster. They are nice ponyfolks, they'll buy something just because they feel sorry for me. They would never hold it against me personally, they are too nice for that. Even if they did it wouldn't matter; they are just small potatoes anyway. His second water was gone and the waiter had magically replaced it with a sweet but light beverage without him noticing. Damn that fellow is earning a tip for himself. He could get rich in the big city with service like that. But still, there remained last night's date. Well at least only he and Mac knew about that, that is if they could keep Applejack at bay. He sipped his new drink. Its sweetness seemed to brighten the entirety of Ponyville. Slowly the street seemed alive again, the sky bluer, the air sweeter. But last night still hung heavy on his mind. Why did it bother him so much, after all it was, sort of fun, wasn't it? It was nice to have an experienced mare who knew what she liked, even if she was... well it was certainly—different. Things had gotten a little weird hadn't they? No, no, not at all. Between two consenting adult ponies such things... it was just unusual, a little risky—and rather exciting. So had it really been all that bad? You know what, it wasn't bad at all, I just wasn't prepared—I was caught off guard, that's what happened. And Lotus is oh so beautiful isn't she? I think that she might be the best thing to have happened on this entire trip. He put his almost finished drink down on the table with a thunk of conviction, and rapidly counted out bits that would easily cover the tab plus a healthy tip for his waiter. What a stout fellow, he practically saved my life. Jay stood up, not a new pony, but a pony restored to a former, confident self. He was once again Jay Orange, representative of the famous Orange Imports, a pony who was going to make his mark on Equestria. Adjusting his bags, Jay smiled as he looked at the active street of Ponyville and purposefully trotted off to the spa. ~~~ “Oh, Mr. Orange! I'm surprised to see you here today,” Aloe declared from behind the counter in the spa's waiting room. “Good day, Aloe,” he slyly greeted her. “Did you get plenty of rest last night?” “Why yes, thank you for asking,” she replied very matter of fact. She cleared her throat and asked “And what may I do for you today?” “I came to see if I could talk to Lotus, is she around?” “She is with a client right now. May I ask why you need to speak to her?” “Well, it's my last night here in Ponyville—I'll be heading to Appleloosa in the morning—and I wanted to see if she was free to go out again tonight.” He narrowed his eyes and looked at her suggestively. “And failing that, I was going to see if you were free.” “Oh, uh, well let me see if I can interrupt her.” Jay watched as she walked to the back of the office area and opened a door that was connected to another part of the spa. She called sweetly for her sister, first once, then again, and in a few moments Lotus appeared. She glanced at him with an uneasy smile as he gave a little wave, then began a hushed conversation with her sister in a foreign language. Jay was not sure if it was a casual discussion, a negotiation, or a muted argument. I can't quite place that language—I should have asked where they are from last night, he thought. Maybe it's one of those twin languages I've read about in the newspaper stories—that would explain it. There was a pause in the conversation and they turned to look at Jay. He grinned back sheepishly. They each raised a hoof to daintily cover their mouths as they twittered. He blushed and their discussion resumed at what seems a more relaxed pace. In a short while, the mysterious conversation ended. As Lotus went back to her customer, she waved briefly to the topic of the discussion back at the counter. Aloe resumed her station and spoke to Jay. “Things would not be, uh, right for tonight, for either of us. We are sorry.” She pretended to pout. “That's too bad.” He pouted back at her. “Are you sure? Really sure?” “Yes, unfortunately it is not possible.” She continued her pretense and frowned in mock disappointment. “I see,” he replied curtly. “But we hope you had a nice stay in Ponyville.” The diminutive pink pony turned her head ever so slightly, squinted her eyes and beamed him a practiced, but unconvincing smile. “Yes—yes I guess I did.” He paused waiting to see if Aloe had anything else to say, but she just stood there, smiling artificially. “Well, goodbye then,” he sighed in disappointment and began to slowly walk towards the door. “Goodbye,” she chimed. Before he reached the door she called out, “Oh, Mr. Orange, I almost forgot, could you do us a favor?” Jay ambled confidently back and put his elbow on the counter. He leaned his head on his hoof and said cockily, “Yeees—what can I do for you?” “We'd like you to take a message to Mr. Apple.” “And that message is?” “Please tell him he is welcome back at the spa anytime, anytime at all. Will you do that for us please?” Aloe coyly batted her long lashes. Jay's face lit up with a broad smile as he tried to contain his laughter. “Yes, I'll tell him just that,” he chuckled, “but he may not believe it.” ~~~ Jay stood outside the spa in the same place where he and his cousin had been not twelve hours earlier, but his mood was decidedly different. Macintosh you sly devil! he thought. He laughed so heartily that passing ponies looked at him strangely. He wasn't sure how his cousin would take that message! Tonight they would have to have a long talk about their spa visit—without Applejack around that is. That conversation, assuming he could pry any details out of the terse pony, would be a good end to this less than productive trip. He continued to chuckle at the spa mare's request as he started to make his way back to the farm. Suddenly, another thought occurred to him. Why do I have to spend my last night here at the farm talking to Mac? he reasoned. I can surely find a better way to close out this trip. Lotus and Aloe may be a wash, but I can certainly find somepony else. He stopped in the middle of the road to get his bearings, looking first to the right then the left; which way to the station, which way to the main drag? I need to go see if that filly with the rose cutie mark is still around. I'll bet she is free tonight, and if not her, well then, maybe she has a sister, or a friend.