A Few Bits Short

by RazBro

Save Room for Dessert

"I'm cold, bro."

"Shut up. We're all cold, idiot."

A unicorn and two earth pony stallions slowly trudged through a nearly flank-deep drift of snow. The unicorn led the way, a warm light emitting from his horn and lighting their path ahead. It's warmth did little to ward off the chill mountain air however. At least it wasn't snowing at the time. The three stallions were on the top of the mountain that Canterlot rooted itself against. They made their way towards a stone platform that lay at the top of the mountain for sight-seers, pilgrims, or couples just looking for a good place to stargaze. As late in the night as it was getting and as cold as it was however, no other ponies populated it.

"My father is going to hear about this. She won't be able to so much as wash a dish in this town again," the unicorn said heatedly.

One of the earth stallions whispered something to the other and they both snickered. The unicorn heard and looked back menacingly.

"You don't think I can? I'll see her on the streets!" The unicorn threatened.

"You don't take rejection well, bro," one of the earth stallions said.

"Because no one rejects Silver Key," the unicorn said with a heavy scowl, "she'll get what's coming to her."

Fluttershy carried a tray out of the kitchen door and made her way quickly but quietly towards the General's table. She placed the plate of food in front of him and then stood back, awaiting his approval to leave. She hid behind her mane and avoided eye contact.

The General was a man of routine. He always got the same secluded table set apart from the main dining hall on its own. He always had his own dedicated server, and he always had the same meal. A cup of coffee, followed by a light bowl of soup, then the main course with another cup of coffee, and if he was feeling particularly distant from his wife, a glass of scotch and privacy.

Fluttershy studied the red plush carpet intensely as she awaited the General's word. His meal tonight was a dish of butternut squash ravioli with a light cream sauce complemented by carrots, zucchini and red peppers. Using his horn to levitate a fork into the dish he picked apart the food, eyeing it critically. Lifting a bite to his mouth, he ate.

"It's cold. Probably been sitting out for ten minutes waiting for you to bring it out. My grandfilly walks around with more poise and confidence. What wrong with you?" the General said, laying down the fork and staring hard at Fluttershy.

"N-nothing..." Fluttershy replied in an inaudible voice. She couldn't meet the General's gaze and turned her head away. Tears began to gather in the corner of her eyes.

"I can't hear you, girl."

Fluttershy swallowed and attempted to recover. She looked in the General's direction and instead replied, "Would you like me to take it back to the kitchen?"

The General was fortunately able to comprehend her answer. He scowled and took another bite. "And wait another fifteen minutes? No. Tell the bar that I want my drink. Three fingers. And I better not wait long. Dismissed."

Fluttershy nodded, and backed away. She began to regain her composure as she left his presence and walked through the kitchen, heading out another door and to a bar area. A few customers sat at the dark oak bar on stools, talking with one another, while the barpony trotted back and forth, refilling drinks and collecting tabs. Fluttershy walked behind the bar, immediately getting the barpony's attention as he looked over to see who had violated the sanctity of his workspace. Although he didn't recognize Fluttershy, he took note of the server's jacket and quickly trotted over to see what she needed.

"Going to be busy here soon, what do you need?" he asked quickly but politely. Fluttershy opened her mouth to tell him but then realized that the General had never told her what his drink was.

"Oh...Um...T-three fingers?" she said hopefully, not knowing any brand-name alcohol very well, or much about its consumption for that matter. The barpony raised an eyebrow as he waited for her to continue. When she didn't he sighed.

"Three fingers of what?" he prompted.

"I...I don't know," she said, starting to panic at having to go back and ask the General again for his drink order.

"Who is it for?" the barpony asked, seeing her distress and trying to help out.

"The General, in the other room," Fluttershy nearly whispered. The barpony's eyes finally lit up with recognition.

"Ah, I see, why didn't you say so? He gets the same thing every time. Give me a minute. Three fingers you said? Must be having a rough night," the stallion said, moving about the bar and putting together a simple glass of dark amber liquid that Fluttershy didn't recognize. He set the glass on a tray and then thought for a moment and added the bottle to the tray.

"You better just bring him the whole bottle, I'm sure this won't be his first. He prefers to serve himself anyway. Oh, you'll need this too," he added, putting a small silver boat of ice cubes onto the tray alongside the bottle.

"Oh, thank you so much," Fluttershy said, taking the tray gratefully.

"Not at all, doll. Let me know if he needs anything else," he said, turning towards his other customers. Fluttershy blushed slightly and carried the tray back through the kitchen towards the General's private table. She approached him carefully, feeling his eyes on her as she set down the tray, careful not to spill the drink.

"The whole bottle, eh? First thing you've done right all night. Now get outta here," the General said gruffly, taking the drink in his telekinetic grasp. Fluttershy bowed her head and exited the room, glad to avoid taking any more abuse.

Applejack and Rarity had departed Bottom Line's office and were now walking back to the dish room where Sudsy, Pinkie, Spike, and a host of dirty dishes no doubt awaited them. As they walked Rarity bit her lip and looked off to the side. Applejack noticed but let Rarity speak first.

"Applejack..." Rarity trailed off. The cowpony raised an eyebrow and looked towards her.

"Yeh?" she replied.

"I must... apologize for my behavior earlier. I didn't get a chance to before. I'm terribly sorry to have rubbed all that dish soap in your mane," Rarity said, her head drooping. In response Applejack chuckled to herself, earning a hopeful glance from the unicorn.

"Think nuthin' of it, Rare. I know you git all crazy whenever you can't keep yer hooves clean," Applejack said, tipping her hat.

The two ponies smiled at each other, the tension rapidly clearing between them. They entered the dish room where Spike and Pinkie were both still hard at work moving the plates through the machine. Sudsy was busy still cleaning up the massive mess from the backed up dishes that had spilled over onto the floor. Most of it was clear, but there was still a great deal of broken plaster littering the floor.

The dish lead looked up from his broom and withheld a sigh as the two mares came trotting up to him.

"I suppose we've got that out of our system now?" Sudsy asked, giving them a hard stare. Rarity smiled sheepishly while Applejack answered.

"T'won't happen again. On mah honor. Where d'ya need us?" Applejack asked.

Sudsy leaned against his broom and absently stroked his chin. Applejack had done fine scrubbing pots and pans but obviously it was not an ideal position for the white unicorn.

"Pinkie!" Sudsy said loudly to be heard over the noise in the room. The pink mare poked her head around the corner of the machine, a stack of plates twenty high balancing on her head. Sudsy slammed a hoof against his forehead.

"Come over here!" he said, wishing away the impending headache.

"What's up, boss?" Pinkie said after she had joined the group. Sudsy opened his eyes and looked over at Pinkie who was still somehow managing to keep the plates perfectly aligned on top of her head. Sudsy nearly had a heart attack, sputtering out gibberish and throwing out his hooves in a desperate attempt to save the dishware.

"Huh? What did you say?" Pinkie said, tilting her head to the side. Immediately the entire stack of plates came toppling over and hurtled towards the floor. Sudsy covered both his eyes as he waited for the inevitable.

However instead of a cacophony of broken dishes, he only heard a quiet tinkling. Opening an eye, he saw the entire stack of plates hovering in the air, surrounded by a light blue aura.

"Really, dear, you must pay more attention," Rarity said, re-aligning the stack and setting them neatly on a clean cart nearby.

Sudsy allowed his breath to leave his lungs, not realizing he had been holding it. That crisis averted, he knew he had had the right idea this time.

"Alright, ladies. Pinkie, please take over the pots and pans with Applejack before I have a stroke. Rarity, if you don't mind, take Pinkie's place at the end of the machine. You'll only deal with nice, clean dishes," Sudsy directed.

Rarity let out a sigh of relief at not having to get her hooves filthy again. Unloading the machine would be a simple test of her telekinetic endurance. It didn't take an overly talented unicorn like Twilight to simply move a few hundred plates around. Pinkie meanwhile looked over at the sinks, one of which had an overabundance of bubbles sitting atop the water. She smiled and skipped over with a simple, "Okie-dokie-lokie!"

Applejack started towards the pots that awaited her but stopped and looked back towards Sudsy.

"Ah'm awfully sorry about all tha commotion earlier," she said, tipping her hat. Sudsy sighed but couldn't find it in himself to hold a grudge. As far as he was concerned, all life's worries were just a few moments of good old elbow grease away from being right again.

"Don't worry about it. You ain't the craziest ponies I've had to manage back here. But you're darn close," Sudsy waved dismissively.

Applejack chuckled and went back to resume her work. A heaping pile of pots and pans that had been left unattended while she'd been gone awaited her. And of course there was also Pinkie, sporting an expertly sculpted mustache made of soap bubbles and giggling.

"Oh my! And then what happened?"

Twilight's eyes barely stopped themselves from rolling out of her head, but she continued at Perfect Appetite's behest.

"Well, it turned out that the whole reason my future self had visited my past self was to tell my past self not to worry about what my future self looked like at the time, which I have to admit was pretty ridiculous. But then of course my past self kept interrupting my future self so my future self caused all the worrying that my past self had to go through that whole week. The loop is probably still repeating itself. Oh...Sorry did that make any sense?" Twilight said, noticing that she might have lost him in the explanation.

"Of course I follow, my dear. What a marvelous adventure!" Appetite said, although his eyes which had just snapped to attention after glazing over during the story told differently. Twilight did her best to keep a neutral air of professionalism on her face, remembering that she was supposed to be serving.

"Have you decided what you'd like to have from the kitchen?" she asked politely. She had asked that of course when she had first come back to check on Perfect Appetite, but the food critic derailed the simple question and began grilling Twilight on her studies, her adventures...Not to mention how his eyes seemed to follow the shape of her legs every now and then. Talking to him made her uncomfortable, to put it lightly.

"Oh my yes, I suppose I should do my job, as you have been so expertly doing yours. I suppose being the Princess' student and dining in the castle rubbed off on you. Tell me, did you ever get to meet any interesting dignitaries from the other nations?" Appetite asked, oblivious to the menu in front of him.

Twilight bit her tongue to avoid letting out a sigh of exasperation. She had been here for ten minutes just making small talk already. She was nearing the end of her patience relating her life story. But she made a promise to Bottom Line. She had to keep Appetite satisfied.

"Well, when I was younger, Princess Celestia invited me to a banquet with the ambassador from the land of the Griffins," Twilight started, trying to keep her voice from showing her growing disdain.

"This is going to be a long night..." she thought.

"Mr. Appetite? Compliments of the house."

Twilight broke off her impending story, looking over at Grease who had just shown up at the table carrying a tray of assorted appetizers. He set it gingerly down on the table and then bowed.

"Ah, it looks delicious, thank you my boy. Tell you what, Miss Sparkle, I should give this my full attention. Please return in ten minutes and we can continue with our chat," Appetite said winking at her. Twilight suppressed a shiver.

"Of course, sir," Twilight said, beginning to back away.

"Oh please, call me Perfect, darling."

"Right... Perfect. I'll return soon."

Both Twilight and Grease turned and walked away from the table back towards the kitchen. Twilight noticed that Grease had abandoned his stained kitchen apron for a well-fitting server's jacket, and had slicked his mane back, albeit a little sloppily. As soon as they got into the back, Twilight dropped her polite facade, slumping onto her hindquarters and throwing back her head in a dramatic sigh that would have made Rarity proud.

Grease smirked as she regained her composure. The lavender unicorn looked towards Grease gratefully.

"Thank you so much for getting me out of there. He is so creepy!" Twilight said, taking a small rag out of a pocket in her jacket and wiping her brow with it.

"No problem. Bottom Line and I have been keeping an eye on you to make sure everything goes well. I thought you could use a breather after being out there so long," Grease said. "Do you know what he wants for the main course?"

"No idea, every time I ask he just turns it around and asks me about some adventure or experience I've had," Twilight said with annoyance. Grease frowned, as Bottom Line walked towards them from the direction of his office. He eyed Grease's serving jacket, raising an eyebrow.

"What are you doing, Ellbogen?" he questioned. Grease's ears flattened against his head as he shifted his hooves nervously.

Twilight took no notice, smiling happily and explaining. "Oh, he just saved me from having to tell Appetite about my whole life story, that's all."

"Is that so," Bottom Line said dryly. Grease looked down and away from his harsh gaze. Twilight's smile faded as she finally picked up on the manager's demeanor. "Is something wrong?" She asked.

"Ellbogen. What do you think you're doing? I pulled you back into the kitchen for a reason. You aren't ready to deal with serving yet, much less the most influential guest we have!" Bottom Line started. Grease looked back up towards him, anger in his eyes.

"I am ready. You know I am! The only reason you pulled me back here is because you don't want to ruin your precious reputation with the General!" Grease retorted, his voice rising. Bottom Line glared but his voice remained even and calm.

"Harold Stormfront and I have a history. You know that. I allow him special privilege as a courtesy to that history. I am aware that he is not the easiest pony to deal with, but your previous incident with him, as well as your attitude now, show me that you still need to do a little more maturing before you're ready to be out on the floor," the elder stallion replied.

Grease, unable to take anymore criticism ripped off his serving jacket and threw it on the floor. Twilight gasped, bringing a hoof up to her mouth and backing away slightly. She felt very out of place, observing the fight. Grease turned around and stormed off, his hooves clopping loudly on the floor.

"Ellbogen! Don't you walk away from me, boy!" Bottom Line said, taking a few steps after him. Grease of course ignored the order, tossing an impassioned, "Buck you, dad." behind his back.

"Dad?" Twilight said softly, tilting her head. The harsh curse hit Bottom Line like a blow as he took a few steps back. Instead of chasing after him though he hung his head and sighed. The night's pressures were evident on his creased face. Twilight suddenly became very interested in dragging her hoof across the floor, wondering if she should back out of the situation or try to help. She took a moment to allow the beleaguered stallion to regain his composure.

"I'm sorry you had to witness that, Miss Sparkle. My son can be quite passionate at times," Bottom Line said, standing tall again and straightening his jacket.

"It's okay," Twilight said, stepping forward, "I didn't know you two were father and son."

"Yes. Well, he's been in and out around here since he was a boy, learning the business. It's my hope that he'll take over running Culina after I retire. He started out in the dish room and moved around, learning every aspect of the business. About a year ago I allowed him to start serving out on the floor. He was doing well, until I let him wait on one of my closest friends, a General in the Equestrian Military. He is admittedly a very hard stallion to please. Normally I wouldn't tolerate a guest treating my staff in such a way...But as I said, we have a history. Ellbogen lost his temper, and I had to pull him off the floor until he could develop a little more," Bottom Line explained. Twilight nodded sympathetically.

"Maybe you're being a little too hard on him?" she suggested. Bottom Line raised his eyebrow.

"This is an unforgiving business. I won't coddle him," he replied.

"I understand that, but he needs at least some positive encouragement...Or else he'll just think he can never be good enough for you. Then he'll just stop caring, and you'll lose him."

Bottom Line stroked his chin at the surprisingly good advice from the unicorn. She appeared young, about the same age as Grease himself, but she was evidently wise beyond her years. He supposed that came from being the Princess' personal student. She had given him something to think about.

"Oh...Looks like Perfect is done with his appetizer," Twilight said, her shoulders sagging. Bottom Line looked out the window from the door to the kitchen and saw the food critic taking a sip of his drink and sitting back, awaiting Twilight's return.

"I appreciate your service, Miss Sparkle. I will try to remain at hand to be sure he doesn't keep you too long. If you must make an excuse to leave, do so," Bottom Line said. Twilight nodded appreciatively, took a deep breath, and then walked back through the door onto the floor

Rainbow Dash approached the Wonderbolt's table cautiously. Spitfire looked annoyed, and Soarin looked bored. The pegasus stopped next to their table and faced them. It would have been less awkward if she had also introduced herself, or found any words to say at all, for that matter.

Spitfire raised an eyebrow as the silence wore on, but then took note of the distinctive rainbow mane and tail. A glimmer of recognition lit her eyes and her annoyance broke into an easy grin.

"Well look who we have here, Soarin. Rainbow Dash, long time no see. How's the Ponyville Weather Team treating you?" Spitfire said, glad to at least be able make conversation to pass the time. When Soarin was hungry, he wasn't much of a talker. Unless the subject concerned apple pie, hay fries, pizza, or really anything else remotely edible. Spitfire idly wondered how on earth he could eat such junk and remain the elite flier he was.

Rainbow Dash grinned nervously but finally spoke, attempting a facade of confidence.

"Hey guys! Fancy seeing you here. The weather team is great! No problems there, heh heh. What brings you in?"

"A night of culture and sophistication...Or so I thought. How long did it take you to be served?" Spitfire wondered, trying to look around her for a waiter.

"Oh, heh, um...Not that long...heh," Rainbow said, trying to grin, but ending up with more of a grimace. Soarin eyed her strangely and then noticed her server's jacket.

"What's with the getup? You on a date or something? I wouldn't be able to stand having my wings pinned under a jacket," Soarin said chuckling.

"Good one, heh. I-I'm not on a date. Just-" Rainbow said trying to quickly come up with a reason for being here.

"Wait a minute, that's the same jacket as the other staff here...Are you supposed to be our server?" Spitfire realized, pointing.

Rainbow Dash smiled weakly and then hung her head slightly.

"Uh..Yea. sorry it took so long to get to you guys..." Rainbow said sullenly.

Spitfire and Soarin looked at each other and the annoyance in the former's demeanor slowly melted away, replaced by a smug grin.

"I thought you were the fastest flier in Equestria, Dash. I guess I can understand not being able to use your wings and all, but you know, a Wonderbolt should be in peak physical fitness all around, not just with their wings," Spitfire winked. Rainbow perked her head up, and then let bravado take over.

"Well now that I'm here, you'll get the fastest service in Equestria! What do you need? You name it and it'll be here in ten seco-" Rainbow said, preparing her notepad. Spitfire cut off her boasting with a hoof and a small grin.

"Get us a bottle of Chardonneigh," Spitfire said. Suddenly a low rumble could be heard from Soarin's side of the table. The afflicted stallion put his head on the table, holding his stomach.

"And some bread for Soarin," Spitfire finished. Rainbow Dash wrote it down even though it was a simple order, saluted, and then took off for the kitchen.

"Do you think she really works here?" Soarin asked after she had left.

"Eh. Fans have done crazier things to see us," Spitfire replied, shrugging.

Grease stood next to the door leading to the General's private table. He glared out the window, watching the aged stallion finish his glass of liquor and begin to pour another. Inside his head, he replayed his last conversation with his father. Perhaps the curse had been unnecessary, and he would certainly pay for it later, but he was so tired of being stuck back behind these doors because of this arrogant foal sitting at the table.

"Um...Excuse me. Grease? Are you okay?"

The soft, gentle voice broke him out of his brooding thoughts but the dark cloud remained hanging over his head. He turned around towards the yellow pegasus that had spoken to him. A heavy scowl still on his face, he moved away from the door, back down the hall.

"Sure." He answered unconvincingly as he walked away.

Fluttershy tilted her head as he walked past and down the hall. She looked out the window towards the General and decided that she wasn't quite ready to go out and face him again just yet anyway. Following Grease down the hall, she found him in the prep room - really more of an enlarged end to the hall - where stainless steel counters and several sinks lined the walls as well as two steel tables in the center. All the surface area was solely to cut, dice, and otherwise prepare all the different vegetables for use in complementing the meals Culina served.

As she caught up to him, she saw him standing at one of the tables in front of a cutting board and using a large knife to cut a pile of cucumbers into slices. He seemed to be using much more force than was necessary.

"You don't seem like you're okay to me," Fluttershy said quietly, trying not to disturb him. Grease stopped chopping and turned around, his eyes full of anger.

"I'm fine!" he nearly yelled. Fluttershy took a step back at his harshness, hiding her face behind her mane.

"Oh...I'm sorry to disturb you then. Nevermind," she said turning away. Grease set down the knife, feeling bad for snapping at the gentle pegasus.

"No, wait. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snap at you," Grease said apologetically. Fluttershy stopped and took a few steps back towards him, a small smile on her face.

"Oh, it's okay. I don't mind. Um. I don't mean to pry, but what's wrong? Unless you don't want to talk about it. That's okay too," she asked gently. She approached the table Grease was using and picked up another knife, as well as a cucumber, and began to help slice them. Grease watched as she did so and then looked back down at his vegetable and resumed cutting.

"It's nothing. Just my dad. Er, I mean, Bottom Line," Grease corrected himself.

"Oh. I didn't know he was your father," Fluttershy inquired.

"Yeah. He's had me in this place since I was a little colt. We practically live here," Grease said, finishing a cucumber and grabbing another.

"That must be an interesting life. What about your mother?"

"She...Passed away when I was young. I was pretty much raised by my dad," Grease replied flatly.

"Oh my, I'm so sorry," Fluttershy offered, regretting having asked. Grease shrugged.

"It's alright. We've both done our grieving. I'm over it."

"What happened just now with your father?" Fluttershy inquired, still determined to get to the bottom of his sour mood. Grease's scowl returned as he thought over their exchange again.

"He doesn't think I'm ready to be a server yet. That I'm too immature to handle it. I've been working in this place practically all my life! Of course I'm ready. I know everything about this place like the back of my hoof," Grease said, letting his voice rise slightly.

"I'm sure you do. Maybe he just wants to be extra sure you're ready," the pegasus said, although she knew it a weak argument.

"When I was out there I did my job. Not one complaint, and I pulled in more bits in tips than anyone. It's just because of that stupid General. I lose my cool one time..." Grease said, trailing off in memory.

"Is that really the only reason Mr. Line doesn't think you're ready to be a server? That doesn't seem fair," Fluttershy asked, grabbing another cucumber to cut. It seemed a silly question to Grease, but when he thought about the instinctive answer - to defend himself and say that of course it was just an isolated incident - it seemed just as silly.

Fluttershy smiled softly as her question got Grease to think more deeply. He settled into a deep scowl and responded.

"I can't help it if some ponies don't know how to treat one another with at least some respect," he said acidly. Fluttershy looked towards him while she replied.

"That's true. Someponies aren't very nice to each other. I just think that some of them had a bad day, or maybe something is wrong and they don't know how to express themselves. That's how the animals I take care of act."

Grease smirked at the analogy. "Yea? What kind of beast would the General be?"

Fluttershy stopped cutting to put a hoof to her chin and think. "I think he would be just like the manticore that attacked my friends and me one time."

Grease stopped cutting at this and stared at Fluttershy in astonishment. Such beasts were barely more than a fairy tale to him, having never left Canterlot. "Wait, you faced down a manticore?" he asked in disbelief. Fluttershy nodded.

"Oh yes. The poor dear. He wasn't a beast. He just had a nasty thorn in his paw that was bothering him," Fluttershy said nonchalantly. Grease still couldn't imagine this awkward, shy pegasus facing off against a mouse, much less a manticore. He resumed cutting, shaking his head.

"So you think the General just has a stick up his plot?" he grinned. Fluttershy stared back at him disapprovingly. Grease quickly felt admonished and looked down, mumbling a quick, "Sorry." Fluttershy nodded and finished a cucumber, reaching for another.

"So what are you going to do about him then? Doesn't seem like he'd up and confess any deep scars that make him who he is," Grease pursued.

"That's okay. He doesn't have to confide in me if he doesn't want to. But that doesn't mean that he doesn't deserve as much kindness as the next pony. Maybe he needs even more," Fluttershy responded.

Grease and Fluttershy had finished the pile of cucumbers by now, and Grease scooped them all into pans to be covered in wrap and put in the freezer for when they were needed. He remained quiet while he did this, the talk with Fluttershy having calmed him into a clearer state of thinking. His mind went back to the exchange with his father, which now devoid of the heat of the moment, revealed him to be quite a bit more immature than he would have liked.

"I guess you're right. I wasn't exactly showing the poise of a great waiter when I walked away from dad," he admitted. Fluttershy smiled. She was glad that even though they hadn't been directly talking about his issues, he was able to see her situation and apply it to his own.

"Shouldn't you be checking in on His Highness? You've been back here for a while," Grease mentioned.

"Oh yes...I suppose I should. Oh, I hope he isn't too upset," Fluttershy said, trotting down the hallway. Grease followed. Together they looked out the window towards him. It looked like he had finished his meal and was now swirling his glass, staring off into the distance.

"Looks like he's been hitting that bottle pretty hard. You know, he's actually a little more tolerable when he's drunk," Grease said.

"I'm going to check on him," Fluttershy said, "in the meantime, maybe you should go and find your dad."

Grease bit his bottom lip. He didn't think he was quite up to that talk just yet. All he would be doing would be proving his dad right, crawling back seeking forgiveness. Bottom Line would just see that he needed yet another month back in the kitchen to 'develop character'. An idea struck then. He frowned, knowing it wasn't going to be easy, but it was the only way he knew of to prove to his dad that he could live up to his expectations.

"I'm going in with you," Grease said, "maybe I can help you show him a little kindness."

"Does it involve giving him a cute, fluffy bunny? I think that would be wonderful. I know it would make me happy."

"Uh...No."