//------------------------------// // 222: Tipsy Tock // Story: Thirty-Minute Pony Stories // by Silvernis //------------------------------// 222: TIPSY TOCK I don’t know who first came up with the joke about my mane and tail looking like toothpaste, but I’d like to buck them in the face, and then again in the hindquarters just for good measure. It’s not funny. It never was. It doesn’t even make sense. Seriously, why does everypony seem to think I’m some kind of closet dentist? I don’t get it. Just look at my bucking cutie mark. It’s a bucking hourglass. I’m a bucking clockmaker, not a dentist. I don’t have a secret passion for hental dygiene. I mean, dental hygiene. This “special cider” is crazy stuff. How many have I had? Three? Four? I don’t know. Berry ordered a whole pitcher, and she keeps refilling the damn mug, and I don’t quite feel like telling her to stop. To be honest, I hate getting drunk, but . . . well, this wasn’t exactly a good day to be a blue unicorn with a mane and tail that apparently resemble tooth-cleaning goop. A little alcohol makes the problems fuzzy enough to ignore for a while. Maybe a lot of alcohol. I don’t know. We’ll see how fuzzy things look after this next mug. “You okay, Minnie?” Berry asks as she pours more cider for us both. I have a vague idea that she has a vague idea that it’s a stupid question, since I only drink this much when I’m not okay, but I appreciate the concern all the same. “No,” I say. I sigh gloomily and slump down on my seat, resting my chin on the table. It’s actually a really awkward way for a pony with a normally functioning spine to sit, but at this point I’m beyond caring. The backache will be future Minuette’s problem. “What’s wrong?” asks Berry. “I make clocks, Berry.” “I know, Minnie.” “It’s what I do. It’s my talent. I put all the little gears and springs and crap together and make clocks. They’re nice clocks, too.” “Nicest bucking clocks in Ponyville,” she says, nodding earnestly. “Hay, in Equestria! But the point is, I make clocks.” “Yes, Minnie. You said that.” “I know, Berry. But the point is, I make clocks.” “Yes, Minnie.” “I don’t make teeth. I mean, I don’t clean teeth.” “I know, Minnie.” “I make clocks, Berry. I’m not a bucking dentist.” “I know, Minnie.” “Nothing against dentists, of course—” “Of course.” “—but I’m not one. A dentist, I mean. And I don’t have a fetish for toothpaste.” “Unless it’s green and minty fresh, right?” she says, giving me a huge wink. I feel myself getting even redder. Berry can be annoyingly perceptive even when she’s drunk off her plot. Especially when she’s drunk off her plot. “Stuff it,” I grumble. “Aww, I think you’d rather stuff her, if ya know what I mean.” Wink, wink. Perceptive, and oh so classy. “Shut up, or I’ll stuff you and mount you above the mantle like the griffons do.” “Oooh, kinky!” I give a strangled groan. “Look,” I say, probably more loudly than I should, “just leave Lyra out of this. I don’t have a snowball’s chance in Tartarus with her. And like I was saying, Merry Much—dammit, Berry Punch—I am not a dentist.” “You’ve said that like a thousand times, Minnie. I know, all right? I know you’re not a dentist.” “That’s right! I’m—” “A clockmaker who makes the best bucking clocks this side of Seaddle. I know, Minnie.” She frowns at me. “Something wrong, hon? You’re getting awfully worked up about this. Like, way more than usual.” I close my eyes, anger curling in my gut again as I think about what happened earlier. “Rainbow Dash,” I say eventually. “You’ve got the hots for her now? Damn, Minnie. There’s no keeping up with you.” “No, I don’t, so shut up.” I sigh. “You know that tour carriage that stopped in town today?” “The one from Los Pegasus? What about it?” “She told them that I was the town dentist.” “That just sounds like Rainbow Dash being Rainbow Dash. What’s the problem?” “I’m not a dentist, Berry, I’m—” “I know.” I suddenly sit up and bang my mug on the table, cider sloshing over the sides. Berry calmly leans back, watching me with drunken patience. “Ten ponies!” I snarl. “Ten. Bucking. Ponies. That’s how many barged into my shop today, all asking if I could take a look at their fillings or caps or help them get something out from behind their molars or sell them bucking mouthwash. My clock shop, Berry.” She sits silently for a minute, then shakes her head. “Minnie?” “What, Berry?” “I’m sorry. I mean, it’s not really my fault, but I’m sorry it happened, ya know?” “I know.” “Minnie?” “Yes, Berry?” “You’re a clockmaker.” “Yes.” “So show everypony.” “Huh?” “Show them that you make clocks, and that you don’t give a flying feather about teeth or toothpaste or whatever the buck it is that dentists do. Make a big sexy clock or something.” Suddenly I’m smiling, because I know what to do. “The old clock tower,” I say, leaping to my hooves. “It’s practically balling afart anyway. I’ll rebuild it! It’ll be the best clock in Ponyville!” “In Equestria, baby.” “That, too. You’re right, Berry. I’ll show them. I’ll show everypony that I’m not a bucking dentist. I’m a clockmaker. I’m the clockmaker, and—and I’m going to clean their clocks!”