Pounds For Pumpkins

by Crescent Wrench


Pounds For Pumpkins


Drunken Ponehz

        “-so then I says, Waaaldooo! We gooon find yooou!”

        Pipsqueak bellows out in laughter as he finishes his tale. The ponies around him are in tears, laughing so hard. Many other ponies in the bar had been listening in, a couple having gone so far as to pull up a chair next to their table.

        Pound slammed a hoof down on the table, snorting as he tried to contain his laughter. He remembered being present for the story Pipsqueak had recalled. Somehow, it was even funnier when Pipsqueak said it than when it had actually happened.

        Or, maybe it was the tea. The tea was nommy. Chug-chug-chug.

        Pumpkin was the only one who wasn't drinking, but even she was reduced to hysterics from Pipsqueak's long-winded tale. She could barely believe her brother had been part of that.

        He was definitely going to get the ride of his life later for that.

        Pale, too, found himself chuckling as he checked the clock. It was late, much later than he would have liked to still be filled up. He needed to get some sleep, after all, and he'd sent all of the other help home over an hour ago.

        “Alright, time to start fanning out. We're closing up in ten.”

        Reluctantly, many ponies slowly dispersed, heading back to wherever they came from.

        The five at the table slowly got up as well. Pipsqueak was wasted beyond belief. Pound had to actually sling him over his back, else he collapse into a drunken heap on the floor. He probably would have broken something, too, with his luck.

        Next came Pound himself. His legs were shaky, but his vision was good enough. Only a few of the ponies around him were upside-down. Two out of four wasn't bad.

        Dinky herself hadn't really drank too much, and thus was much more composed than the two stallions. She took Pipsqueak from Pound with a grateful smile before concentrating really hard. A moment later, the two of them disappeared with a loud POP!

        Pumpkin sighed as Pound swayed lightly from side to side.

        “Come on, Waldo, let's get this one home before he loses his sea legs.”

        Waldo groaned, rubbing her head tenderly with a hoof. Her head hurt, the bandage on her face was hot and itchy, her coat was a little sweaty, and she felt stiffer than a board. But the alcohol... oh, that was some good stuff....

        Slowly, she slipped from the bench, and immediately face-planted against the floor.

        “O-Ouch...” she moaned.

        Pumpkin couldn't help but struggle to stiffle a giggle as Pound helped Waldo up, slinging her over his back.

        “Ready to go?” she asked her brother. He nodded, a little groggy.

        Pumpkin let her magic envelope the three of them, and with a sharp push they appeared inside the hallway of Sugar Cube Corner.

        Pound almost vomited on the spot.

        “I hate it when you do that,” he whined.

        “Quit complaining and take it like a stallion,” Pumpkin giggled as she walked past him, flicking her tail under his chin. His head followed her as she made her way into the kitchen. He heard the fridge open, a few tinkling noises, and then the fridge closing again.

        Pumpkin appeared again shortly after, levitating two milk bottles full of something that wasn't milk.

        Pound cocked an eyebrow as he looked it over.

        “What's this?”

        Pumpkin laughed.

        “I could list off everything that's in it, or I could just tell you it's a cure to hangovers. Cheers.”

        Pound was slightly taken aback.

        “How'd you know to make this?” he asked.

        “Mare's intuition,” Pumpkin replied.

        “And how'd you know how to make this?” he asked warily.

        “Dad told me how. I figured you'd get drunk off your plot once you got back. Thought I'd make a couple.”

        She nodded to a snoozing Waldo on his back.

        “I only made three, so because of her there's only one more left.”

        Pound almost wanted to say something about the way Pumpkin had said 'she', but... it wasn't really aggressive, the way she had said it. It was more...

        Pound brushed the thought aside as he downed the glass. The drink tasted like... well, it... it-

        “Tastes like ass!” he coughed, sputtering. Pumpkin nudged Waldo with the levitating glass intended for her. Waldo yawned slowly before blinking about. Seeing the glass before her, she looked at it a moment before sighing and grabbing it, going bottoms up. Unlike Pound, however, she said nothing of the taste.

        Waldo could feel her body loosening up. Her mind was far from thinking rationally, though.

        “Better, right?” Pumpkin asked the two. Both nodded.

        “Good. Now, Waldo, I think you should go up to your room. Bed time!”

        Waldo moaned.

        “Why, so you two can start shagging?”

        Pumpkin laughed, somewhat surprised that Waldo could guess that, even in her current state.

        “Well, not particularly, but if you must know, I haven't spent quality time with my stallion in quite some time.”

        “Y-Yeah,” Waldo muttered. “Must be nice, having somepony who wont leave you.”

        “What was that?” Pumpkin asked, curious.

        “N-Nothing,” Waldo said, depressed. Memories she did not want to recall were starting to rush back. A certain silver-blue unicorn was flashing her that silly grin of his, only to nuzzle her head with his chin, then carrying her on his back-

        Waldo blinked. Pound was carrying her on his back, not-

        She shook her head. She must have really been drunk. She was even starting to get them mixed up, now. It was all Pound's fault, being so nice... just like he was.

        “Waldo?” Pumpkin asked softly. “Is everything okay? You're... you're crying.”

        Waldo sniffled, reaching up to touch her face. Sure enough, she was indeed crying.

        Wiping her face, she let herself fall off of Pound.

        “N-No, Pumpkin, I'm not fine. And I'm sorry if I'm an intrusion to you two. I'll... I'll get along now.”

        With that, Waldo sluggishly climbed the stairs to the room she was allowed to say in. As soon as the door closed, Pound and Pumpkin could hear her wail in sorrow.

        Pumpkin rubbed her leg in concern.

        “Pound, do you know what this might be about?”

        Pound hung his head, nodding.

        “I told you we were friends, right?”

        Pumpkin nodded.

        “Well, she... has nightmares. At first, she wouldn't say a word about them to anypony, but... she used to have a special somepony. She opened up to me after a while, and I learned a bit about him.”

        Pound sighed.

        “She really liked him, like really liked him, and I guess some things happened that even she wont tell me. He was trouble, I guess, and instead of let the trouble catch up and get Waldo hurt as well, he told her he had to leave. She hasn't seen him in just about two years now.”

        “Oh my- that's... that's really tragic.”

        “Yeah,” Pound said, rubbing the back of his neck.

        “You know, for a stubborn mare like her, she can be a pain on the outside but, once you get to know her, she's really sweet and rather vulnerable-”

        Pound's point was accentuated as another wail came from Waldo within her room.

        Pumpkin sighed.

        “Such a shame... I wish there was something, anything we could do... Tell me, what was he like?”

        Pound laughed.

        “She was crazy about him, that much was obvious. I guess he was really nice, but humble. A little silly, but very gentle. He wasn't a fighter, but the few times she saw him get angry, it was like a dance for him. He was more graceful when he was pissed than when he was sane. She mentioned something about him being a complete kluts, too.”

        Pumpkin had a hunch.

        “And let me guess, he was pretty quiet most of the time, but whenever he had something to say, it was meant to be heard? He seemed distant from the world, but as soon as she got to know him, he became her world?”

        “Something like that,” Pound laughed, his cheeks glowing red.

        Pumpkin sighed, snickering in irony.

        “Pound, you do realize this mystery colt sounds like a complete clone of you, right?”

        Pound breathed out slowly.

        “I know.”

        Pumpkin trotted over and sat down next to her brother.

        “Did you ever think of the possibility that she might think of you the way she thought of him? I mean, based off what you've told me, you're a carbon copy of him. She... she might think of you as him.”

        “I've... thought of that,” Pound muttered. “But it's not right. I have you, and I'm not whoever he is.”

        Pumpkin sighed, smiling softly.

        “No, you're not him. But you need to realize something; I've been by your side for sixteen years. I know how you are. And unless you help that mare, you're going to let it pick away at you inside until it's far too late to do anything about it... almost like what was between us.”

        Pumpkin picked up his hoof within her own.

        “Pound, I love you, you know that. But... that mare up there, she needs help and I know you want to help her. I don't know what you two went through, but it kills me to see you hurting. And right now, you're hurting. So...”

        She sighed.

        “Let's go help her. Okay?”

        Pound scoffed.

        “Pumpkin, you do realize that if she's this upset, plus mistaking me for a lost love... the only way to help her is probably to screw her brains out, right?”

        Pumpkin laughed.

        “I've shared you before with one of my friends. I suppose... I could share you again, with one of your friends.”

        Pound sighed.

        “This is really going to happen, isn't it?”

        “Hey, there's always a chance she just want's to talk, right?” Pumpkin asked.

        Pound snorted. He craned his neck over his shoulder, taking a quick whiff of Waldo's scent left on his back.

        He grimaced as the smell hit his nostrils. It was strong.

        “No,” he said resolutely. “She most definitely does not just want to talk.”