Lickety had given up on trying to keep the party under control. He’d given up on anything that wasn’t curling up on the sofa while Rumble cuddled him.
“—was horrible, and I can’t get the smell out of my nose!”
“It’ll be okay, baby. You need a hug. And lots of soap.”
The pair looked around the living room in despair. The mood of the party had darkened. The bourbon was open. Metal blared from the speakers. Mares glared at each other. The dancefloor was turning into a mosh pit. Cheery conversations turned to bitter gossip.
“I’ll need to burn the house down,” said Lickety, “If I burn the house down and say it was heroin addicts, I can claim it on insurance. And I’ll have to have coffee with Mr Rich and the Bread Scientist somewhere else. Because we can’t have coffee in a burned down house. That would be silly.”
Rumble stroked his mane and kissed his neck. “Babe, it’ll be okay. We just have to get them out before the vomiting starts,” he said. “There’s no going back after the vomiting starts,” he added, darkly.
They’d been laying there for half an hour now, and things were spiraling out of control. Sounds of fighting and music came from the spare bedroom above. Pina Colada and Alula were screaming again. Ponies were jumping on the other sofas. Two would-be DJs pushed and shoved over control of the decks. The party was a spilled drink from turning into a full riot.
A deep, rumbling crash, like thunder from overhead, rolled out from the kitchen. Then, a shockwave of air that blew manes and tails to the side.
In an instant, the house filled with thin, purple smoke. It smelled like cheap coffee and dusty, forgotten hats. After a single sniff, all of Lickety’s worries seemed to melt away. He didn’t have to be anxious, he didn’t have to fear for his life and his future, he could just be completely, absolutely calm while Rumble cuddled him.
Everypony else in the room seemed to agree with him. The tension dissipated immediately. The two DJs stopped fighting, turned off the metal, and turned on slow dancing. Pina Colada moved in to kiss Alula, and Alula kissed back. It was as if a great sigh of contentment had passed through the party.
At least one pony was unhappy, though. Dinky wandered into the living room, looking singed and tearful. “My creation! My beautiful creation is gone! Mere ash in the wind!”
Lickety Split tried to sit up, but ended up just looking at her. “What happened?” he asked. He tried to put some concern in his voice, but couldn’t manage it.
“Somepony turned off the dough mixer and let the seed germ sit,” she wailed. “The failsafes activated and teleported all of the dangerous materials back into the containment vault. Without them, the other components combusted! Gone, gone in a cloud of clover, salts, and mild opiates!”
Lickety nodded along, wriggling backwards into Rumble’s warmth. Rumble was impossibly, stupidly comfortable. “Huh, that’s a bummer.”
“Who?!” cried Dinky Doo, “Who would do such a thing?”
“Heeeeeey, Dinky,” slurred a voice from across the room. Pipsqueak stood, barely, swaying from side to side, straining to keep both eyes open. “Your pills didn’t, uhhh, the pills, pills that were yours that I took, pills for my boner, heh, boner, they didn’t woooooork. Your pills.”
“What.”
“Yeah I came in to the kitchen where you were working over that things but, but I didn’t want to distuuuurb you, so I just, I, uh, went through your bag and found your pill stash and took the boner pills but, uh, the boner, heh, pills for my boner they’re not working.”
“You got past my electric wards,” growled Dinky, “to steal erectile dysfunction drugs.”
“Ohhhh, that’ssss, that’ssss why the flooor was tingly ‘n stuff, ohhh. Yeah, I took the pills that look like little blue squares, only one so maybe I needed more but it’s reallly not doing anything down there so maybe I didn’t take enough?”
“Blue square—Pipsqueak you dipshit, blue diamonds are boner pills! Blue squares are fucking tranquilizers!”
“Huh,” said Pipsqueak. He swayed, righted himself, and looked back at Dinky. “Innit what I jus’ took?”
“Yes, Pipsqueak, it is what you just took. Did you happen to unplug an industrial dough mixer while you were in the kitchen, dumbass?”
“What, oh, the noisy thing yeah, it was noisy and I couldn’t concentrate on which pills were which so I turned it off so I could concentrate,” said Pipsqueak. “Wow, the floor looks really, realllly comfortable. Look, I’m going to lie down on the floor now and sleep, so, uh, yeahhh, do us a favor and make sure I sleeeep on my side.”
And then he was out like a light, snoring on the carpet. Dinky broke down crying.
Featherweight got up from one of the sofas and stumbled over. “Dinky, sweetheart, are you okay? I didn’t know you were here tonight.”
“My science experiment blew up,” she sobbed.
“Oh, you poor thing, not again. C’mere, gimme a hug.” The lanky, cream coated pegasus wrapped his wings over the unicorn, cuddling her gently.
“It always happens, and I just don’t know what went wrong...”
“It doesn’t always happen, you’ve had loads of successful experiments, you’ve just had a bad month is all, okay?”
“Mm’hmm,” she sniffled.
“Come on, come with me. You wanna get some waffles and ice-cream?”
She shook her head.
“You want me to read science-fiction to you?”
She shook her head.
“You wanna get some waffles and ice-cream while I read science-fiction to you?”
There was a pause, and then a slow, soft nod.
“Come on, then. Let’s get some waffles and ice-cream, then”
“A-and science-fiction.”
“And science-fiction. Come on, Dinks, you can ride me for once.” He loaded the unicorn onto his back, and took his leave.
All around the room, heads began to perk up.
“Hey, is it just me—” said one pony.
“—Or does that smoke make you really, really hungry?”
“I could mow down some cheesy fries right now,” said Chowder.
“Mushroom kebabs!”
“Beanburgers! Really spicy beanburgers!”
“Hey, are there any Saddle Arabian places open in Ponyville this late?”
“There’s Akhal-Teke’s, that’s across the street from Beanburger Palace, they’re both 24/7.”
In groups of two and four and five, ponies began filtering out of the house to find late-night munchies. Scootaloo was last of all, hauling Pipsqueak’s sleeping form over her withers.
“Jeez, my boyfriend is such a lightweight,” she muttered. “Time for some fries, bitches!”
Lickety Split and Rumble found themselves alone in a deserted living room. The peace didn’t last long, however. Seconds later, a dozen hoofsteps thundered down the stairs and the musicians burst into the living room.
“All right, enough sitting about, it’s time to lay waste to this fookin’ party—ee, where is everypony?” said one, “There was ponies ‘ere when we came in, I’m sure of it.”
“Yeah, there was—” Noel sniffed the air, “—Do you lot smell that? It smells like opium but it ain’t. Crikey, I could really go for some opium right now. Or heroin. Either’s good.”
“yah i bet that bitch Vinyl has some opium somewah lets go to hah place”
“Ee, she’s right, I left a ‘teenth there an’ all. Come on guys, let’s head to Vinyl’s place.”
The musicians all lit two and a half cigarettes each, and slouched out. Ruby Pinch and Tootsie Flute ran after them, cursing and yelling.
Lickety Split sat up, and said “It’s over.”
“It’s over,” he said again, not caring a jot if he was tempting fate. “We can get everything ready, prepare for tomorrow, and—it’s only three A.M.! We have time to sleep!”
Rumble cuddled him from the side, kissed his neck, and nipped at his ear. “Sure, if sleep is all you want...”
Lickety Split blushed. With his blond mane, brown fur, and pink cheeks, he looked like Neighapolitan ice cream. “Well, that too. Bedroom?”
“Bedroom.”
They walked upstairs, leaning on each other, giggling and laughing, nipping and nuzzling until they reached the bedroom. After a quick detour to move Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon’s sleeping forms into the spare room, they settled down in bed together, for a night of kissing, grinding, licking, and some sleeping too.
If either of them had noticed the flickering light on the telegramophone before sleep took them, they would have seen a new message in the machine.
And if they’d looked at the new message, it would have read:
‘Mr Split typo in my previous letter we are meeting at my house tomorrow not yours sorry for confusion yours sincerely Filthy Rich’’
But that, and all else, could wait until the morning.