//------------------------------// // Lights Out, Everypony! // Story: Legends of the Shady Trough // by _No_One_Remains_ //------------------------------// “…and that’s my tale of a young mare in heat!” Retching. I was literally retching. It took every single ounce of self-control I had not to vomit everywhere. I wanted nothing more than to carve the memory of the tale I’d just heard out of my brain. If I’d had a knife at the time, I probably would’ve tried. Even the atmosphere of the bar turned sour in the wake of Miss Violet’s recounting of her younger years… Bleh… Still to this day I shudder in fear of the memory of the whole story. I’ve managed to block the most of it from my mind, so pardon me for not recounting it. Needless to say, it wasn’t quite suited for inexperienced ears. Even the now-trashed Sir Ox looked disgusted to the point of regret. The other, not-so-drunk customers were on par with me, visibly forcing back their instinctual reactions to hearing such a…disturbing…tale. I sorely regretted ever agreeing to judge the contest. Hell, I hated myself for offering the mule free lodging in exchange for her participation. I simply… I wanted to cry. It was better than puking on my tables! “Humph! Was my tale too juicy for you, Barman?” Miss Violet spoke with an obvious arrogance and pride. I could almost taste the smug tone in her voice. I grimaced as she emphasized ‘juicy’, knowing exactly what she was trying to do. Swallowing the bit of vomit that was desperately trying to escape, I groaned, “Just…Just sit down…” She dropped her empty complimentary mug on my table as she passed, skipping her seat and heading for the stairs. With a tone of utter supremacy, she giggled, “Good night, you uncivilized drunks. Let me know if I won or not, Barman.” She laughed all the way up the stairs, her would-be-free bottle of wine and her jewelry clinging together. I heard a hoof slam against a table as Electric Slide shouted after her, “Like hell you did, you freaky old mule!” He chugged the remainder of his mug of beer before letting out a disgusted grunt. “So what, are you contestant number six?” I wanted nothing more than to erase the mule’s tale from my head. I was actually eager to get the next story started! Caitiff groaned, “Uh-huh Boss. I don’t think any of us are in any shape to keep going…” Even she, the supposed vampire, was completely flooded with disgust. “Why don’t we pick this up in the morning?” “I second that!” came Pigeon’s voice out of nowhere. Even with her mostly silent nature, I could tell a difference between this tone and her normal one. She polished off her liquor and started for the stairs. The skin-crawlingly disturbing voice of Lamia broke through the nauseous aura of the bar. “That mule was right when she said her tale was explicit. And yet disgust and not excitement did it elicit…” She was right about that, at least. I felt the contents of my stomach shift uneasily. Before I could actually respond, the zebra was gone, more than likely headed to her room to do whatever it was she did in there. My attention was suddenly brought to our newest guests as the rabbit burst into a fit of laughter. She managed to capture all of us in her fit, drawing a mutual curiosity from those of us sober enough to think. “Bahaha! You guys thought that was ‘juicy’?! That’s got nothing on some of the things I’ve seen in my travels!” While we all were obviously smothered in disgust, Lucky seemed to be significantly enjoying herself. Even her companion looked taken aback by her reaction. Conrideas exploded, “Keep them to yourself, you little rat! I’ve had enough with juicy! I want tame! Comedy! Adventure! So far, this contest has been one snore after another! And the ones that aren’t boring are otherwise unappealing!” With that, the stallion’s head fell to the table with a painful thud. The instant his head made contact, he began to snore. Lavender Wave nudged him in the side hoping to get a response. She giggled, “I think he tried a little too hard…” Finishing her bottle of beer, she got up from her seat. “But I think the others are right. It’s lights out for me.” “So…um…Barman, was it?” Voodoo finally decided to speak up as the literary mare walked away, followed by several other guests. “How much did you say a room is for the night?” It had completely slipped my mind that she and her rabbit might actually be patrons, rather than just passersby seeking a few minutes out of the rain. Finally getting my stomach to settle, I sighed, “One bed is thirty bits a night. That doesn’t include food or drink.” “Only thirty? The last place I stopped was almost triple that!” she paused a moment to draw something from one of her saddlebags. She dropped a small satchel onto the table in front of me and cheered, “What room am I in?” I lifted the satchel to feel if it was the correct weight. I couldn’t be arsed to actually count the things, and it felt good enough for my tastes. I mumbled, “You can take fifteen, third on the right, first floor.” I slowly slid from my chair and walked back over to the bar proper, ready to take inventory and hit the sack. As I counted each individual bottle of my many different types of liquor, listening to the slowly-intensifying snoring of Sir Ox and Conrideas, I started to think about everything that had happened over the course of the day. One day. Not even a full day! It felt like an eternity, though! Five stories, technically six if you count the Changeling Traveler, had taken from sunset to midnight to tell. My brain was swimming in circles as I tried to block out Miss Violet’s gruesome tale of sex and… Bleh… I only prayed that somepony would be able to tell a story good enough to completely shove it from my memory, but that didn’t seem likely considering the crowd I had to pick through. Six stories felt like an eternity, and there were at least eight left to hear… Eight…? By Celestia, that was wishful thinking!