Horte Cuisine watched over the outdoor portion of his restaurant’s dining area with a cool, calculating air. The calculations were due to the knowledge that yet again the day would turn a tidy profit, especially since he was making adequate use of the old ‘yesterday’s leftovers into today’s blue plate special’ trick. The coolness, which could have easily been mistaken for unabashed wickedness, was simply because he knew that he could get away with that trick over and over again and none of the patrons would know or care.
So engrossed in the thoughts of the bits piling in, the tall stallion never noticed how a lot of the diners (not to mention the long line up of guests wanting in and the few ponies who simply didn’t have the bits to spare that looked on longingly at those inside) seemed to have had their attention drawn away from the food.
Indeed, as his attention finally focused on the here and now, he saw that every pony in the immediate vicinity was looking outside of the restaurant and out at the street beyond. Even the few hosts he hired for a little wages as he could legally get away with were just standing there and staring. Sensing a possibility of even more profit, Horte Cuisine carefully made his way through the mass of pony bodies to just outside his establishment to see what the commotion was about.
“Perhaps Princess Celestia has come for a surprise visit to Twilight Sparkle…” murmured the stallion to no pony in particular. He still held a grudge over how whenever the monarch showed up he never had the opportunity to try and get some sort of endorsement or even a word in edgewise. He could only dream of how high his profits could climb if he were to somehow have the Golden Horseshoe receive the blessing of one of the royal alicorns.
Eventually the stallion was able to make his way past the mass of ponies that were making a great deal of appreciate sounds at…whatever was beyond his vision. The murmurs, gasps and wolf whistles from the stallions in the crowd grated on Horte’s ears. He highly doubted that it was a visit from royalty, though the possibility of a pretty face brought other…less classy ideas to his mind.
It would be nice to have something nice to drape over my foreleg for a while…a bit of eye candy is always welcome. Horte immediately stood up straighter and straightened the vest he wore, prepared to use his (in his not-so-humble opinion) devastating good looks on whomever seemed to have drawn the crowd.
He would have never expected in a millions years the sight that met his eyes…
The impressively athletic body of the Earth mare carried the dress very well. The green leather cowboy boots even had the same apple markings that adorned the mare’s flank. Her braided mane drew attention to the incredibly green eyes and…
…familiar Stetson hat?
Applejack… Horte Cuisine was completely and utterly floored at the sight, as where more than a few red-blooded stallions who were causing a flood of drool to damping the street. And even more amazing, the usually humble mare seemed to be enjoying the attention. And for as much focus was devoted to her, there seemed to be just as much amused attention directed towards the young colt walking beside her.
The grey colt’s coat had been freshly washed and brushed. His black mane was shining and set in a stylish cut. The only article of clothing he wore was a rather simple red tie he had borrowed from the three owned by his older brother. But he carried himself with such pride and confidence that the ponies found it hard not to be completely and utterly taken by him.
Eventually the duo stopped, directly in front of the Golden Horseshoe and well within Horte Cuisine’s line of vision. The stallion felt an angry flush burn on his face, due mainly to the very brief but unmistakable smug smiles he received from Applejack and Peppermill. He knew that all of this…pomp and circumstance was solely for his benefit, and it enraged him.
“Tell me something sugar cube,” remarked Applejack sweetly, addressing her little brother. “where do you reckon a pair of dressed up ponies lookin’ few a bite ta eat might go round these parts?”
“Well…one would hope a place…that is as high-class as us.” answered the colt. “Of course…we could also ask…who might want to…join such a beautiful mare…and a handsome fellow…like me.” There were a few laughs at the colt’s obvious joke, but there were even more anxious stallions doing everything they could to catch the apple mare’s eye.
These two…two…ergh… Horte seethed as he watched the apparently love-struck stallions practically toss themselves at the mare’s feet. In the greedy stallion’s mind, he was torn between the blatantly obvious display the colt and mare were doing for his view…and the distressing fact that he was lusting after Applejack just as much as the other male ponies.
Applejack, walking with an exaggerated sway of her hips and Peppermill with a firm chin stepped towards Horte and his restaurant. Horte had to physically swallow his rage and contempt, knowing that all of the eyes of the crowd were now on him. He managed to force a cool smile as he addressed the Apples.
“I would consider it a pleasure to escort you…two to our finest table. In fact, I would insist on offering you whatever you would like on the menu.” A number of the crowd began to murmur in surprise, the memory of the shouting match between Horte and Peppermill still fresh in their minds as well as a select few who knew the story behind the stallion and Applejack.
“That is incredibly generous of you Mr. Cuisine.” beamed Applejack. “Considerin’ how you’ve darn near banned all of us Apples from yer fahn establishment.”
“And given your…unique take on fine dining…I am amazed you…would allow us to…partake of your…menu.” The (in) gracious rasp of the colt set the stallion’s teeth on edge. He knew with every fiber of his carefully maintained being that the two of them were trying, and succeeding, in baiting him. He knew all too well what their opinion of him and his restaurant was. It was no different than his opinion of them, come to think of it.
“I admit that we all have had our…differences in the past.” remarked Horte in an oily tone. “But why not let bygones be bygones? Start anew, as they say.”
“Wut do you think sugar cube? Should we go an’ give Horte another chance?”
“Hmmm…” The crowd seemed to hold its breath, just as Horte did, as Peppermill made a production of pondering the question. Every second was agony for the stallion’s composure. He knew, he just knew, what the answer was. The problem was that he was in no position to react negatively to the impending event. Not unless he wanted to risk alienating the citizens of Ponyville, including the love-struck stallions that seemed to have their gazes glued to Applejack’s impressive figure.
“Hmmm…”
“…”
“…”
“…nah.” Whether the colt intentionally put on an Appaloosan accent, or it was just the way the single word came out, its effect was immediate. The crowd all released its breath at once, which caused Applejack’s dress to swirl rather provocatively around her hind legs. Peppermill used the sudden gasp from the crowd to mouth ‘you rattlesnake” to him, which caused the stallion to grind his teeth together.
“I reckon yer right sugar cube. I jes cain’t get over the feeling that this place ain’t as fancy as its letting on…” The fact that Applejack was staring a hole into Horte during every word made his throat tighten to the point he couldn’t speak. That was a rather nice stroke of luck, for if Horte Cuisine could have said something it would not have been very nice indeed.
“No…I think we…can find a better place…to spend our hard…earned bits at.” And with that painfully obvious jab, brother and sister turned around and sauntered away. This left Horte to try, and fail, to regain his composure as the gathered crowd both inside and outside of his establishment to whisper among themselves.
“Ah swear sugar cube I ain’t ever been that nervous in mah llife.” whispered Applejack to the colt as they passed by the townsponies.
“You did…wonderfully.” smiled the colt.
“And are you sure wearing this dress wuz a good idea? I ain’t all that fond of bein’ stared at like that, especially from some of them boys…”
“They just found out…how pretty you really…are.” insisted Peppermill. “Don’t be surprised…if you see some…of those stallions begin to…start showing up at Sweet…Apple Acres asking…for you.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
“Funny…I could have sworn there were some fillies in that crowd talking about ‘that cute colt in tha tie’”
“No, those…were mares.”
“You sure about that sugar cube?” Peppermill gave a glare to his sister, only to see a big goofy grin on her face.
“Okay…you got me.” he laughed.
“Eyup, I reckon ah did…”