Chapter Five:
Stupid Smart Minuette
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Golden Harvest intended to freak out.
This was not normally something ponies planned. In most cases, the screeching and flailing of hooves came about more or less naturally. But the sheer scale of the freaking that Golden Harvest needed to do required her to stop and sort out the logistics of it first. There would be riots. Things would be set on fire, and not all of those things would fit the traditional definition of 'flammable.' There would be stampedes of wild beasts. Significant structural damage would occur in and around her immediate area. She would have a mental condition named after her by the time she was through.
But before she set about making professional ponies quake when they heard the term, 'Golden Harvest Syndrome,' she decided it was a good idea to visit her best friend first. Colgate was a smart pony; they didn't let you drill on someone's teeth unless you knew enough to pass a few college exams. Having a dentist as a friend was weird sometimes, especially when Golden Harvest got toothbrushes for her birthday every year. But if it didn't mean that she had a smart friend to run to and get her to help sort out her dumb life, then Golden Harvest wasn't sure why she bothered to have friends at all.
Besides, even if Colgate couldn't help, it would be nice to at least say hi to her one last time before they came to put Golden Harvest in restraints.
But Colgate could definitely help. She always had something witty to say when Golden Harvest came to her with her problems. Most of the time, her witticisms didn't actually help at all, it was just Colgate being a snarky jerk, but this was different. This time, Colgate would recognize that it was serious. She had to. She would sit Golden Harvest down and use her smartness to tell her what she should do.
What should she do? What should she do? Golden Harvest's flighty canter carried her across Ponyville as she anxiously chewed on her lip. She wasn't a filly-fooler. She couldn't be a filly-fooler. Because if she was... if when she looked at mares, she was looking at them that way, then all the times she told herself she was just comparing to confirm she was as pretty as this waitress or that mailmare... all the times at school in the locker room when she had thought she had some kind of medically unheard-of heart condition... the fact that she always found the need for some 'alone time' after every time she watched a mares' volleyball match... Golden Harvest couldn't be a filly-fooler, because if she was, she was an outright perv of one. She would be worse than her mother!
What if she was, though? What if Golden Harvest was a filly-fooler like her mother? Would she need to keep an exotic foreign lover named Sprinkles at a villa south of Monterreins? Golden Harvest couldn't afford a villa south of Monterreins! And Sprinkles would never settle for splitting rent on an old studio apartment in downtown Ponyville.
And Applejack... No. No, absolutely not. What Golden Harvest had for her neighbor was loathing, not lust. Sure, if she were into mares, some ponies might interpret Golden Harvest's behavior toward Applejack as some twisted kind of infatuation, but that was just proof that she had no interest in mares whatsoever, because there was no way in Tartarus that she had a crush on Applejack. She did not want to kiss Applejack. She did not want to run her hooves through that straw-colored mane while strong orange legs held her close and a soft country voice whispered in her ear—No! Stop! Bad!
Script. This was all Written Script’s fault. Yes. She should have smacked him when she had the chance. Stupid Written Script. How dare he mess with her head as the result of a relatively reasonable misunderstanding and her inability to pay attention to him while Applejack was in the room?
Applejack! Yes, Golden Harvest could see it clearly now. Written Script and Applejack were conspiring to make her think she was a filly-fooler! Applejack wanted to add Golden Harvest to her collection of sex-slaves, so she hired Script, an actor, to confuse her into liking mares. It was the only explanation that made sense.
And her mother was in on the whole deal, too! Beta had always resented her for being straight; that was why she never got Golden that puppy for Hearth’s Warming when she was eight, even though she really really wanted one. So now she was helping Applejack lure her only daughter into a debased lesbian harem!
Colgate, though. Colgate could set her straight. Colgate had the answers.
Golden Harvest was panting by the time she entered the waiting room of Colgate's place, Teeth In Minutes. The place was clean, but a little bit disorganized. Magazines were scattered across the low coffee table, and a few had slid off onto the floor. The reception desk, unmanned, was covered in stacks of files and papers, mostly insurance paperwork. The walls were dotted with pictures and certificates, but no clock. There were never any clocks in Colgate's place.
“Colgate!” Golden Harvest called, letting the front door swing shut on its own. “Are you here?”
“It's Minuette,” came her friend's reply from the operating room, alongside the shrill whine of a drill. “I'll be done with this patient in forty one seconds, Golden. Just wait in the lobby.”
Forty one seconds was a long time for a pony whose self image was cracking before her eyes and needed to see her friend right now, but she wanted to talk to Col—Minuette, not Minuette and some other pony who was hopped up on anesthetic spells. So Golden Harvest took a seat on the sofa, her rear hoof tapping rapidly against the leg of the coffee table.
Fortunately, Minuette was nothing if not punctual. Exactly forty one seconds later she emerged with a large gray stallion who had an ice pack pressed to his cheek. “Alright, Mr. Jelly,” she said, guiding him to the door. “Try cutting back on the sweets a bit for next time, hm? They do make sugar-free preserves, you know.”
“Hmrffmfrf.” The stallion made a response that may have been an attempt at actual words as he nodded and walked out of the office.
Minuette sighed as the door swung shut. “Ugh. Golden, you showed up at just the right time. You would not believe the day I've been having!” She spun around and collapsed next to Golden Harvest on the sofa. “Hey, you wanna go for drinks? Let's go for drinks.”
Golden Harvest blinked. “Drinks? It's...” There was still no clock in the room. “It's like two in the afternoon.”
“One forty nine, actually. I've got another patient at four, but I'm thinking of burning my office down before then.” She pushed herself up by her forelegs and grinned. “Your point?”
Golden Harvest frowned. “I was actually kinda hoping...” Actually, she really could use a drink. “...for you to say just that. Let's go.”
This was why she was friends with Minuette. She was so smart, she didn't even have to know what Golden Harvest's problem was and she still found a solution. She knew she came to see Minuette for a reason.
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The best thing about drinking early was that even though it was Friday they got the bar practically all to themselves. The only ponies there other than the two of them were the bartender—who Golden Harvest was pretty sure was a mute; it seemed like he had a mustache instead of a mouth—and Berry Punch, whose absence at the bar would have been stranger than her presence.
Colgate had ordered something that was strong and smelled minty. Golden Harvest forgot what it was called. She thought after spending the day around mouthwash and toothpaste and stuff, Colgate would have wanted a drink that didn't taste quite so similar to her job, but the unicorn seemed to enjoy sipping it as she animatedly described exactly why she wanted to set fire to her place today.
“...so I've got the board of orthodontia breathing down my withers, two different insurance providers deciding their dental plans don't cover me after all, and a patient whose gums look like Discord took a holiday trip to her mouth!” She took a long sip from her drink. “But anyways, how was your day?”
Golden Harvest stared down at her own drink. In hindsight, ordering a mug of Sweet Apple Acres hard cider had been a poor choice. She could smell the scent of apples wafting up from her mug, and it made her think of Applejack, and how she probably had put her hooves personally on every apple that had gone into it, and how tasting it was, in some fashion, like tasting the sweat of her brow, and that conjured the mental image of literally licking the sweat off Applejack's brow...
She hadn't touched her drink since she got it. Okay, maybe a little sip.
“Colgate...” Golden Harvest said.
“Minuette.”
“Whatever.” Golden Harvest glared at her drink, as though she could intimidate it into not reminding her of her neighbor. “Do you think I'm a filly-fooler?”
Minuette grinned “Oh, wait, I remember this line.” She cleared her throat and dropped into a lower register. “My dear, with a face like that, I don't think you're fooling anypony!”
“Well, I'm certainly not cuddling any colts,” Golden Harvest recited, nodding. “You saw the play too, huh?”
“I thought I spotted you in the audience. I tried to wave, but I was way in the back, so you must not have seen me.” Minuette lit her horn, fiddling with the coaster underneath her glass.
“Somepony was being... very distracting,” Golden Harvest said, staring at a golden drop of cider as it rolled along the rim of her cup. “But seriously. Do I strike you as the kind of mare who...” She waved her hoof listlessly in the air. “...who, you know, prefers the company of other mares?”
Minuette stared at her, the grin slowly fading from her face. She took a sip a bit too quickly from her drink and coughed. “I... koff, koff... geez, Golden, I'm really the wrong pony to ask,” she sputtered. “I'm terrible at guessing that sort of thing about ponies. I mean, I thought Sapphire Shores was straight for an embarrassingly long time.”
A whiff of alcohol announced the presence of Berry Punch. The pink lush had moved to a closer stool at some point and now leaned in Golden Harvest's direction. Her eyelids were half closed, and a goofy grin crossed her drunkenly flushed cheeks. “I think,” she slurred, “if you're not a filly-fooler yet, you will be after a couple shots.”
Golden Harvest scooted her stool a bit closer to Minuette. “I just want your honest opinion as my friend. Do you think I'm... wait, you thought Sapphire Shores was straight?”
“She was always hanging around that one stallion!” Minuette protested.
“You mean her uncle who owned the record label?” Golden Harvest said. “What did you think her song, 'Fool Me, Filly' was about?”
Minuette threw her hooves up. “Like I said, I'm bad at this. So I just don't bother guessing most of the time. Why do you need to know what I think, anyway?”
“Just tell me.”
Minuette furrowed her brow and rubbed her chin. After a moment, she rapped her hoof against the bar. “You've got a coltfriend, right?”
Golden Harvest shook her head. “Turns out he was gay. And he thought I was gay, too, which was why he was dating me.”
“Oh.” Minuette nodded, then blinked. “...Wait, what?”
“It's a long story.” Golden Harvest poked at her mug with her hoof.
“Hmm. Well, what about...”
Golden Harvest's head sank lower and lower as her friend brought up and dismissed all possible evidence of her sexuality.
This was ridiculous. Golden Harvest was not a filly-fooler. Just because she spent what Minuette described as 'an inordinate amount of time' staring at passing mares in the streets and 'considerably less time' watching stallions in those same streets didn't mean anything. Ponyville had more mares in it than stallions. It was just the law of averages. Golden Harvest didn't have feelings for mares. Hay, there was a mare right in front of her, and she didn't have feelings for her.
...Well, she of course had feelings for the mare in front of her, but that was because it was Minuette. Minuette was her best friend, so of course there were feelings there, but it wasn't like that.
Berry Punch, though, she was behind her, and Golden Harvest didn’t have feelings for her, other than annoyed at Berry for trying to hit on her. ...Okay, she couldn’t really be annoyed at Berry. She was a cute drunk, and she hit on everypony. It was kind of endearing, really.
But none of that counted. It wasn't like Golden Harvest was thinking of leaning over and making out with her best friend.
Heh. Now that was a ludicrous line of thought. Making out with Minuette? She could hardly even picture it. Kissing those parted blue lips and tasting the bite of peppermint on her breath, nestling her nose into the blue and white mane that had earned the dentist her nickname. Ha.
Golden Harvest was glad she had this talk with her friend. Sure, her mother and her coltfriend had shaken her up a little, but now she had it back in perspective. She was sure now that she was as straight as a yardstick. She was so sure, in fact, that she was going to prove it by kissing her friend. She would plant a little peck right on her lips, and it wouldn't mean a thing because Golden Harvest didn't have a thing for mares. She would smooch Minuette, and it would be awkward for a moment and then they'd have a laugh, because it didn't do anything for either of them. And then Golden Harvest could put this silly nonsense behind her.
“...so, based on the evidence,” Minuette said, “I guess I can conclude that you must be one hundred percent, completely...”
Her lips were smooth and warm. Golden Harvest tasted the minty burn of Minuette's drink. Her tongue rose—quite unbidden—to dance across her friend's pearly teeth. Minuette's own tongue emerged to greet her. Electric pinpricks ran up and down Golden Harvest's legs. Stars burst behind her eyelids.
Air rushed into her mouth as the seal between their lips broke. Golden Harvest fell back to her stool with a soft gasp.
“...s-straight,” Minuette said, her eyes slowly fluttering open. She brought a hoof to her lips, as though stunned they were still a part of her face.
Berry Punch tottered in her seat, frowning at her mug. “Bartender,” she called. “Gimme some of what she's having.”
Golden Harvest stared at Minuette. “Shoot,” she said. She had just kissed her best friend. Really, really kissed her. Not just a little. No cute peck on the cheek, or playful slobbery gross-out smooch. It had been a real, honest-to-Celestia romantic kiss. And she had liked it.
“Shoot,” she repeated, and took a deep swallow of cider from her mug. She couldn't deny it any longer. Golden Harvest never knew she could feel the way that kiss had made her feel. It all crystallized before her. All of her denial, all of her self-deception. She had been lying to herself all this time about how she felt, about what she truly wanted. And Applejack...
“Shoot!” Golden Harvest pushed herself away from the bar, leaving her stool spinning. If... if this was the way she felt, then it meant all those things about her neighbor... Her hooves trembled as she pushed her way out of the bar. Nopony stopped her, because Berry Punch was half-asleep on the counter, the bartender was a mute, and she was pretty sure she had broken Minuette, because she was still sitting there, touching her lips with her hoof.
Stumbling through the cobbled streets, Golden Harvest stretched out her screaming muscles and looked around for a place to get some kindling. Now was about time to get started on that freak-out.
Next Chapter:
Chapter Six
Stupid, Stupid, Stupid, Stupid..."Are you alright, miss?"