//------------------------------// // Centerfold // Story: The Spice of Life - Peppermill's Stories // by Mr Merritt //------------------------------// It was as typical of a day as one might expect in Ponyville. The sun was shining, everypony was in a good mood, and there seemed to be little chance of adventure and/or chaos to occur. And five little colts were bored to tears because of it. Usually Snips, Snails, Peppermill, Pipsqueak and Featherweight (and the absent Rumble) could be found having all sorts of fun in and around the town. The bond of friendship between the six young ponies was compared by some to that of the famous Elements of Harmony, also citizens of the small town. But over the last few days the well of ideas had been running dry, to the point not one of them could come up with a single good idea of what to do with themselves. “I can’t believe I’m about to say this.” muttered the chubby unicorn colt as he lay on his generous belly on the grass. “But I’m actually thinking practising magic would be better than this.” “I’ve taken pictures of just about everything I can think of…twice.” agreed Featherweight, who absently cleaned the lens of his famous camera around his neck. The others merely gave various nods and grunts of agreement. Peppermill was tempted to mention something about idle hooves being Discord`s workshop (something he had heard his birth mother mention from time to time), but knew better. A discussion-bordering-on-a-hooffight about the semantics of the phrase would only alleviate the boredom for so long. “I wish Rumble was here. He usually has good ideas for stuff to do.” This was the lament from Snails, to which the others nodded in agreement. The rough and tumble Pegasus colt was the unofficial, but accepted leader of their little troupe. More often than not, he was the one that would take charge of the situation and lead the colts to all sorts of adventures. Of course, this usually led to a group effort to get out of the circumstances which didn’t always work out in the end. “Where is…Rumble anyways?” quiered Peppermill. “He said something about seeing his brother off…” answered Pipsqueak, doodling pirate ships with crescent moon flags in the dirt. “Oh yeah. There is some sort of big weather conference in Cloudsdale this weekend. Apparently any and all Pegasi with time off were expected to go. I know Uncle Heavyweight is there.” explained Featherweight. “Maybe we should have gone with him.” remarked Snails in his slow drawl. “It would have been better than just sitting here…” “HEY!!!” A loud but familiar call from high above made all the colts jump and gaze into the sky. Sure enough, the Pegasus colt in question was coming in fast towards them. One could almost make out what appeared to be a package of some sort clutched tight to his chest. “Um, should he be flying that fast?” asked Pip warily. “Something has got him excited.” agreed Featherweight. “I think…we should move.” Peppermill’s gravelly announcement sent the ponies scattering, preparing themselves for an uncharacteristically rough landing. But Rumble was a strong flyer, and the cargo he was carrying in his forehooves was far too precious to risk a crash landing. With a mid-air maneuver that would have impressed Rainbow Dash (or Scootaloo, though she would rip her own wings off before ever admitting Rumble being superior to her in anything) the colt managed to slow down just enough for a near-perfect four point landing… …perfect, except that he hadn’t completely removed his forward momentum, which resulted in a face plant into the dirt. “Nice one!” laughed Snips. “That one was better than your usual landings.” “It could have been worse. Remember when he clotheslined himself with an actual clothesline?” snickered Featherweight. By this point Rumble had popped back onto his hooves, looking frantically around oblivious to the jokes at his expense. “Is this…what you arte…looking for Rumble?” asked Peppermill. The grey colt pointed to the brown paper package on the ground, one that Pipsqueak was poking at with interest. In response, the Pegasus colt leapt upon the object in question, sending the pinto colt tumbling backwards. “Thank Celestia it is okay!” exclaimed Rumble in obvious relief. “Oy! What’s the big deal?” demanded Pipsqueak, righting himself and glaring crossly at the older colt. “Sorry about that Pip, guys. But believe me,” announced the colt, his eyes sparkling. “This is going to make up for everything.” “What is it?” sang out the chorus of puzzlement from the other ponies. “As soon as Thunderlane was out of sight I snuck into his room and got…It!” “It?” “It!” Rumble opened the top of the package just enough to give the colts surrounding him a glimpse inside. The only thing they could make out was the top half of a single word. But it was a word that was nothing short of a Holy Grail for any red-blooded colt. Playcolt. *** Later that day, when pressed, some of the townsponies would admit that the six young colts had been acting very odd as they walked with a purpose through town. One would assume they were trying to act nonchalantly as possible, with little actual success. This, it would be agreed, was due to the nervous energy that poured off of the group. Clearly they were trying to get somewhere while trying to draw as little attention to themselves as possible. Regardless, the odd behavior was quickly forgotten and considered nothing more than ‘colts being colts’. As quickly as the colts passed through town, they arrived at their chosen destination. By the fact that his parents were the only ones not in the town at that moment in time, it was Snail’s home that was where the colts decided to examine their treasure. They quickly gathered into the basement of the house, closing the door to the underground space behind them. The last thing any of them wanted was to risk any adult ponies stumbling across them and their forbidden treasure. “I can’t believe you actually went into his room and got it!” gushed Snips. “Guys, this is a big moment for us. Thunderlane says this is better than any amount of Sex Ed classes he ever took in school.” said Rumble in a hushed tone. The two Pegasi and two unicorns could only nod in solemn agreement. Pipsqueak, a bit too young to fully comprehend the gravity of the situation, simply sat there. Peppermill sat beside the pinto colt, feeling…well, slightly out of the loop. He had heard plenty of stories from his friends about this supposed class that was required learning at the big red schoolhouse the rest of his friends went to. Due to the home schooling he had received at the hooves of his worldly mother Crème Brule, it had been determined that the little cook was advanced enough not to have to partake. While some of his friends were jealous of his apparent ‘get out of school free’ condition, the grey pony sometimes wished he could join them. At the very least he could get a better understanding of why Sex Ed seemed to fill his colt pals with such mixed feelings. But even Peppermill was familiar with the forbidden allure of Playcolt. Not unlike Rumble, Peppermill’s knowledge of the periodical was due to his elder sibling though in the cook’s case it was Saltpeter and not Big Macintosh that partook in the literature. There had been only a small hoofful of times when Peppermill had debated whether he could get away with sneaking out a copy of the magazine from his sinister sibling’s grasp. But a solid spanking and threats that should have hinted to the stallion’s true nature put that idea firmly out of the colt’s head. At least, until now… “And you are…sure Thunderlane won’t find out…about this?” questioned the adopted Apple pony. “Hey, we’ll have this thing back in his room long before he comes back from Cloudsdale.” remarked Featherweight with a wave of a hoof. “Besides, it’s not like we need to keep it for that long.” “Exactly. If what my brother says is true, the real prize is what he called ‘The Playmate of the Month Centerfold’” “What’s a ‘playmate’?” asked Snails in his typical slow-on-the-uptake drawl. “As I hear it,” explained Rumble with shining eyes and fluttering wings, “every month they get a really really, really pretty mare to pose for pictures.” “Pictures of a pretty mare?” remarked Pipsqueak skeptically. “Not just any pictures. Pictures of…everything!” said Snips in a low, hushed voice. “Everything?” “Everything!” “…blimey.” *** Approximately fifteen pony minutes later which as we can establish is considerably longer than human minutes… Six rather confused colts sat around a large unfolded poster, gazing with various degrees of intensity at the rather…interesting image. There was no doubt it was a mare, with a dirty rose colored coat and dark maroon mane spilling over her withers. She appeared to be lying on her back with an expression on her face that they all assumed was meant to be alluring (they knew this solely because they had enough experience watching certain white unicorn mares use that same look to get stallions from the town to help her with heavy loads of material for her dresses). She was undeniably fit and shapely, her curves quite pleasant to look at. But it was the lower half of the image that the colts suspected was the more important part, though for the life of them they weren’t sure why. The mare’s hind legs were spread out enough to reveal a pair of large, firm teats just above a slit of pink flesh topped by what looked like a small pink pearl of flesh. All of them, save one, knew exactly what they were looking at but none of them had the faintest idea what the big deal was. “Is that all there is then?” asked Pipsqueak uncertainly. “It does seem…rather anti-climactic, doesn’t it?” agreed Peppermill. “She’s pretty.” murmured Snails, though in his defense he seemed more content to look at the unnamed mare’s face that he…other bits. “It’s…a nice picture. Very professional…” conceded Featherweight. “Is something supposed to happen? Are we…I don’t know…supposed to feel something?” asked Snips desperately. He was probably the one who was most looking forward to ‘becoming a stallion’, and the disappointment made his already annoying nasal whine more pronounced. “Quiet, I’m thinking.” snapped Rumble, forelegs folded tight against his chest and deep in thought. He was disappointed as well, but not prone to whining like the chubby unicorn colt was. He thought back to any of the times his older brother got a new copy of the magazine and what he did with it. “I’m pretty sure…we have to do something.” “Something?” questioned Snails. “Well,” huffed the dark maned colt, “Thunderlane always locks the door to his room whenever the newest issue comes out. But since his room is right next to mine I can hear him if I press my ear against the wall. I’m sure he’s doing…something while he’s looking at it, but I can’t tell what exactly. But when he’s done he always heads for the bathroom and has a shower. Then he usually either tosses his bed sheet into the laundry or takes a rag from closet and does something with it in his room…” “He has to shower and clean up after he looks at that?” asked Featherweight doubtfully. “If that is what it takes to grow up I’ll pass thanks.” “There has to be more to it than that. I mean, does he seem happy or what when he does…whatever?” demanded Snips, begging for anything to justify all the secrecy they had gone through to get the prize. “I guess he sounds happy. It sounds like ‘oh baby’ and ‘you’re so hot’ and things like that.” shrugged Rumble. The colts digested this information for a moment or two. Then Snails stretched his long neck down towards the image and spoke loudly. “You’re very pretty.” … … … “I don’t think she heard me…” “Does the picture talk? I remember my auntie showing me this book made by unicorns that read itself.” piped up Pipsqueak. “No, I know the picture doesn’t talk. I think I would have heard something from my brother’s room.” answered Rumble firmly. “Besides Snails,” added Peppermill, patting his lanky friend on the back. “I’m sure…she gets told she’s…pretty by all…sorts of ponies.” Snails just gave a sad frown and continued to look at the picture. “Ugh. To hay with this. I’m out of here…” growled Snips. The chubby colt stomped up the stairs grumbling to himself. “Erm, Rumble?” asked Pip softly. “Yeah?” “Do all mares and fillies have all those…bits down there? They aren’t like the ones on…um…me…” “I suppose they don’t have the same classes in our grade like they do with you huh? I think I still have a copy of that Sexual Education textbook at home.” said Rumble. “I don’t know…if that is…a good idea.” spoke up Peppermill. “Maybe he should…wait until…he gets into…your grade.” “That’s okay, I don’t need it.” The pinto colt bobbed his head, and then turned to Snails with a grin. “She is pretty, isn’t she?” “Yeah…” agreed Snails with his goofy grin. “Hmm, I wonder…” “Wonder what FW?” asked Rumble. “I bet I could take a picture like that…” “Yeah but what mare or filly would let you?” laughed the Pegasus colt. “Hey, lots of ponies like my pictures…” “But would any of them let you take a picture of them doing that?” Rumble pointed emphatically at the image. Featherweight’s face went red, and he grumbled under his breath. With a smirk of triumph, followed by a resigned sigh, Rumble carefully folded the image and set it back into its place among the magazine’s pages. “I guess I had better take this back home.” “Oh well…I guess this didn’t…make it a totally…boring day.” sighed Peppermill. “I have cookies.” blurted out Snails. The other colts looked at one another, surprised by this rare outburst. “What about Snips? He already left.” exclaimed Pip. “He probably took some from the jar before he left. He always does.” Snails said this with such a dead-pan inflection, that the rest of his friends couldn’t help but laugh out loud. “I can probably manage a few before I go.” chuckled Rumble. With a happy smile, the lanky unicorn led his friends up the stairs. To Be Continued...