“Now, that was a food fight!” Pinkie Pie exclaimed as the last of the chocolate icing was wiped from the ceiling.
Ernest grinned as he mopped the floor. “Yeah, it was pretty good. I haven’t been in a food fight like that since my days at Kamp Kikakee, but those boys didn’t throw near as hard.” The human winced as he smiled. The side of his head where Rainbow Dash had scored a direct hit with her pie was still tender.
Noticing this, Rainbow Dash put down her spray bottle and gloves. She hovered over to the Troll Fighter and asked, “So, how’s your face doing?”
Ernest quickly withdrew his hand that was probing his head. “I’m okay. Compared to what Rarity gave me, having some dessert thrown my way wasn’t so bad.”
The sky blue pegasus raised her eyebrows. “She actually hit you? I thought Pinkie was exaggerating when she told me that part. Oh man, she must’ve been mad at you.”
Feeling a nudge from behind him, Ernest looked down. Applejack was gesturing for him to lean close. “Did ya really kiss Sweetie Belle?”
Ernest looked to see if anyone else was listening to the conversation. Luckily all the other ponies were busy, except for Rainbow Dash, who was listening intently. “Yeah, but it was only a peck on the cheek . . . It was like me kissing Rimshot. Ain’t that right, boy?”
The dog looked at Ernest in-between mouthfuls of apple cake that had landed on the floor. He stared for a couple of seconds and then went back to eating again.
“Eh-heh-heh-heh, he agrees with me. He’d say so himself, but it’s rude to talk with your mouth full.”
Applejack glared up at him with her piercing emerald eyes. “It’s also rude to lie,” she hissed.
“Eyup,” Big Mac chimed in as he carried a load of trash bags out the door.
Ernest’s eyes darted back and forth as he said quietly, “Alright, alright, I kissed her on the mouth. I thought she was a troll, and that’s the best way to get rid of the stunted devils. It was dark, and her costume was real scary, and . . .”
Rainbow Dash dissolved into gales of laughter. “That’s how you get rid of trolls?!!” she howled loudly.
The pegasus’ outburst drew the attention of everypony in the room. Realizing what she just said, Rainbow Dash stuttered, “I mean, that’s how you shine a pole? Ha, ha, ha,” she continued laughing mirthlessly as she floated back to her rubber gloves and spray bottle.
Shaking her head at her winged friend, Applejack whispered to Ernest, “Well, that’s about what Pinkie Pie said. And from what I gathered from Rarity earlier, Sweetie Belle’s doin’ just fine. But if ya ever do something like that again, you’re going to answer to me, and I hit a lot harder. Do you understand?”
Ernest nodded his head up and down rapidly, his eyes wide with fear. “Yes ma’am, I wouldn’t want it any other way.”
“Good,” Applejack replied as she walked past Ernest, following Big Mac out the door with a couple more bags of trash.
As the sanitation engineer let out a sigh of relief, a very loud voice boomed, “Hey, new pony?”
Ernest jumped backward a few steps in surprise. As he recovered, he turned around to see who the new pony was. Instead he saw that a white unicorn with a blue mane and a microphone was pointing his way.
Ernest looked from side to side to see who the new pony was. Seeing that all the other horses were looking at him, he finally gestured to himself and mouthed “me?”
“Yeah you, in the freakish minotaur costume,” the unicorn said into the microphone. “This is your party. What kind of poison would you like to jam to?”
The human, uncomfortable with all the attention, put up his hands. “Oh, no thanks. I like to keep my jams and my poisons separate. You know what I mean?”
The white unicorn lowered her shades and frowned as all the other ponies laughed at the stranger’s wit.
Ernest felt a tapping on his leg. He looked down and saw a mint colored unicorn with white hair. “She means, what music would you like to listen to?”
“Is that what she’s talking about? Okay, thank’s uh . . .”
“Lyra. Lyra Heartstrings.”
“Thanks, Lyra.”
The Troll Fighter turned his attention back to the impatient D.J. pony. “Do you have any country, or western tunes up there?”
The D.J. pony’s lips thinned like she had just tasted something bitter.
Ernest not noticing continued, “You know Johnny Cash, Conway Twitty, Willie Nelson any of those guys?
The room had gone very quiet as the other ponies looked at each other to see if anypony knew what the heck the costumed pony was talking about.
Ernest felt another, much harder tapping on his other leg. A different pony with a blue and pink striped mane asked, “Who the hay are those show ponies?”
“Well, they’re not ponies. They’re . . .” Ernest stopped himself as he realized what he was about to say. “Uh . . . never mind, Ms. . . .”
“Her name’s Bon Bon,” Lyra said.
“I hate to interrupt the group meeting, but would it be okay if I chose something?” the D.J. asked.
Ernest gave the okay sign, “Sure, go ahead.”
The white unicorn grinned maliciously as she stepped away from the microphone.
Turning back to the two ponies, Ernest declared, “She seems nice, talks a little funny though, but . . .”
The human frowned as she saw Bon Bon put her hooves over her ears.
“What’s wrong with you? Do you have an ear ache or something?”
“She doesn’t like Vinyl’s music. It’s . . .” Lyra struggled for the right word before settling on, “pretty loud.”
Bon Bon chimed in, “I’d be holding my ear’s, if I were you.”
Ernest folded his arms over his chest and said confidently, “Oh really, I appreciate the warning, but Ernest P. Worrell doesn’t shirk from loud noises, nor does he cover his ears when music is played in his honor. Rimshot and I can take whatever she can dish out, ain’t that right boy?”
Looking down at his dog, he saw that Rimshot was sitting back on his hind legs with his two front paws over his ears in preparation.
“Smart dog,” Bon Bon commented dryly.
Before Ernest could reply, the lights had dimmed and strange multicolored lights on the ceiling came on. The Troll Fighter suddenly had a bad feeling about what was coming, but it was too late. Noise like he had never heard before blared out from four massive speakers close to where Vinyl was standing. She didn’t seem to care in the least as she fiddled with a huge music-machine that spat out the strange sounds.
Ernest immediately clamped his hands over his ears as the loud chaotic music and the bright lights drove him to his knees. “WWWHHHAAAAA, What is this? Make it stop!!” He wailed, but no one seemed to hear him as the party goers started to dance happily to the beat of the music.
The human was stepped on several times before a couple pairs of hooves dragged him away from the music.
He was led to a table booth to regain his bearings.
“I told you to cover your ears, you big dummy,” declared Bon Bon.
While making sure he had not broken any bones, Ernest replied, “It just caught me by surprise, that’s all. I hear this kind of music all the time where I come from.”
Sitting across from him, Lyra asked, “Where do you come from, if you don’t mind me asking? I’ve never heard your kind of accent before. If I had to guess, I’d say you were from Appleloosa or Dodge City.”
Bon Bon sighed, bored with small talk, “I’m going to grab some cake, Lyra. Do you want any?”
Lyra just shook her head, her attention riveted on the costumed pony.
As Bon Bon left, Ernest started to panic as he tried to come up with a convincing lie on the spur of the moment. “Uh, what were the choices again on where I come from?” he asked.
Lyra grabbed Ernest’s pant leg roughly and snarled. Her pleasant demeanor had completely changed. “You can drop the act now. I know exactly what you are, and you aren’t a shaved minotaur. You’re a human!”
“Uh . . .err,” before Ernest could say a half-baked fib, he spotted a pony carrying a tray of milkshakes from table to table.
The Troll Fighter frantically waved the pony over and yelled over the din of music, “Can my friend and I here have a round of waters? I’m a little short of funds, ya know what I mean?”
An amused smirk appeared on the yellow pony’s face as he replied, “I don’t know where you come from bud, but here in Ponyville, we don’t make you pay at your own party.” A pen and note pad appeared as he set the tray down. “Now, what’ll it be?”
“A chocolate shake would hit the spot,” Ernest replied a little too quickly.
The yellow pony glanced down at Ernest. “Hey, relax. If you’re worried about the food fight earlier, don’t be. I won’t make you pay for the damage to the store. Rainbow Dash and the others are another story.” As the owner of Sugarcube Corner took Ernest’s order, he asked the mint colored unicorn, “Hey, Lyra, would you like anything?”
“No, thank you, Mr. Cake. I was just talking to my human friend here.”
Ernest tried not to look panicked.
“Human?” The yellow earth pony laughed. “If this pony had wanted to be a human for Nightmare Night, he would be two feet shorter, grey skinned, and hairier than a Star Swirl the Bearded physics question.
Stamping her hooves in frustration, Lyra growled, “That’s a dwarf. Dwarves don’t exist, but humans do. And I am telling you, he’s a human. Look at his legs and his hands! His pink fleshy complexion and his tiny snout! Use your eyes!”
Mr. Cake shrugged off Lyra shaking him and took another scrutinizing glance at Ernest.
Ernest pasted a blank smile on his face and sweated.
Mr. Cake finally said, “Okay, so is this a human costume or a shaved minotaur costume?”
“He’s not in costume! He is a human!!!” Lyra seethed.
Nodding his head in agreement, Ernest replied, “You’re right, Lyra. I should have gone as a human, but it’s too late to switch now. You know what I mean?”
Ignoring the fuming unicorn, the co-owner of Sugarcube Corner asked the guest of honor, “Well, besides the chaos at the beginning and the cleanup, how’s the rest of the party going?”
“Oh this is great! Best party I’ve ever had!” Ernest answered, relieved to have someone else think that he was still in costume.
Rimshot, who was sitting beside Ernest, barked lazily in agreement. It looked like the beagle had gained ten pounds from eating the left overs of the food fight.
“Glad to hear it. Well, I’d better see to your shake. Hopefully we can visit later on.”
“No wait. Come back. I want to order something else!” Ernest yelled, but it was too late. The pony had already picked up his tray and left.
The human turned his attention back to Lyra who was glaring at him intently. “Eh, heh, heh, heh, uh . . . what were we talking about?”
“You may have the other’s fooled, human, but I am on to you. You are my proof that humans exist, and I’ll be bucked if I’ll let this chance slip by,” The pony stated sharply.
As the Sanitation Engineer contemplated bolting for the door, he was bowled over by a deafening blast.
“EXCUSE ME, ERNEST!!!” A loud screeching voice wailed next to Ernest’s ear.
Troll Fighter One was blown over in his seat by the volume of the pony yelling at him. Rimshot just barely managed to hop on top of the table to avoid being squished by his master.
Ernest yelled in terror, putting his arms and feet up in front of his face, “WWWWHHHAAAA, Don’t kill me. Don’t kill me. Don’t kill me!”
After a few seconds, Ernest peaked out from behind his fingers to see a yellow pegasus with a pink mane blushing profusely. Fluttershy looked down at Ernest apologetically and said, “Oh my, I’m sorry about that Ernest. I didn’t mean to yell so loudly. But, I’ve been trying to get your attention for a while now, and I thought if I yelled especially loud . . . and, well. . . .” Fluttershy’s voice trailed off.
Ernest sighed in relief, as he sat back up in the booth. “That’s alright. I thought you were a troll.”
Lyra, who was also recovering from Fluttershy’s bellow shook her head. “No! You are not getting away, human. You and I are going to Canterlot today, so I can present you to the Princesses and prove that I--hey, let go!”
Grabbing her friend from behind, Bon Bon looked apologetically at Ernest and said, “I am so sorry about this. I should have never left you two alone. I saw that look in her eye when she caught a glimpse at you. I thought she’d be okay.”
“I am okay,” Lyra insisted. “He’s the real McCoy this time, Bon Bon. I swear it.”
“Come on, Lyra. Let’s get you home,” Bon Bon said tiredly, dragging her friend away.
Turning her fanatical gaze on Ernest, Lyra cried, “This isn’t over! I will find you!” She then began to emit a string of curses at her friend to let her go.
The yellow pegasus’s cheeks reddened as Lyra’s curses became more exotic.
Standing up out of the booth, Ernest said, “Thanks for bailing me out back there, Fluttershy. I didn’t know how much longer I could keep her guessing. And thanks again for taking care of Rimshot while I was in the hospital.”
“Oh, that’s alright, Ernest. Rimshot is such a good boy. Yes, he is. Yes, he is.” As she said this, she rubbed the dog’s belly. Rimshot’s back leg scratched the air quickly. When Fluttersshy was done, the beagle stood back up and barked at Ernest.
Ernest shook his head, “No, we can’t keep her.”
The pony smiled at the complement, but then she realized, “You can understand him?”
The red neck gave her a strange look as he replied, “Well, yeah. He’s my dog.”
“Um, yes, but you can understand him bark for bark. I don’t know of anypony else who can do that.”
Ernest thought about this for a second before replying. “I just figured that was because he barks with a really strong beagle accent that even other beagles can’t understand.”
After Ernest said this, Rimshot growled irritably at his master in embarrassment.
“What? It’s nothing to be ashamed of, and I wouldn’t have known if you hadn’t told me.”
“Can you understand other dogs or animals?” Fluttershy asked fascinated.
“Nope, just him.”
“Oh,” she replied in disappointment.
Before the winged pony could ask another question, the front door to Sugarcube Corner slammed open deafeningly. Yelping in fear, the pegasus scooped up Rimshot and flew back into the booth Ernest had vacated earlier. The music stopped, and the blinding rainbow lights turned off.
Troll Fighter One squinted at the bright sunlit figure as it strolled into the bakery. After rubbing his teary eyes from the glare, he was face to face with an honest to goodness minotaur in a tie.
The mythical beast grabbed the human’s shirt and pulled him close until their faces were centimeters apart. Snorting, the beast asked, “Are you the pony who has been mocking Iron Will with this disgraceful costume?”
Giving the minotaur a confused look, Ernest looked down at himself and replied, “Well, sorry. If I had known minotaurs were fatter, err, I mean bulkier, I would have had a protein shake before I came over here. You know what I mean?”
Iron Will seethed in rage as he said very slowly and menacingly, “Take. It. Off. Now.”
The ponies who weren’t cowering in terror looked on in curiosity. What did this pony look like underneath his costume?
Ernest’s confusion turned to gut-wrenching fear as he stammered, “Yeah, well, see . . . uh about that, I . . . .”
“You refuse?” Iron Will bellowed. “Fine. Iron Will shall tear it off you piece by piece. If somepony offends, make them amend!”
Grasping both sides of Ernest’s rubbery face, Iron Will began to pull.
“Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow. Hey stop it! That stings really bad.”
Surprised that the pony’s mask wasn’t tearing in the least, Iron Will changed tactics. He grabbed the minotaur imposter in a headlock and tried to pull his fake head off.
“Pal, I’m telling ya, it doesn’t come off that way. OW! Cut it out!” Ernest yelped in pain.
Letting go of the strange pony, Iron Will poked Ernest in the chest and exclaimed, “I will get this costume off you if it’s the last thing I do!”
The next thing Ernest knew, he and the minotaur were pushed away from each other by a pink pony.
Pinkie, nose to nose with Iron Will asked, “Alright Buster Brown, what’s the big deal? He’s just practicing for Nightmare Night. No harm, no fowl.”
Sniffing Iron Will’s breath, Pinkie turned green and waved at the air. “Never mind. That’s pretty foul.”
Shoving his face in Pinkie’s, the bull-headed creature roared, “That costume is offensive to my eyes! Iron Will isn’t leaving until he sees that pony remove it!”
The minotaur tried to step around Pinkie, but the pony moved to block his way.
Raging at the Earth Pony, Iron Will yelled, “If someponey tries to block, show them . . .”
“Yeah, yeah, listen big guy. How about this?” Pinkie asked impatiently. “Let’s have a hoof wrestling contest. If Ernest wins, he stays in costume. If you win, he takes it off.”
Without hesitation, Iron Will cracked his neck. “Agreed.”
Ernest, smiled cockily and came up to the minotaur. “Yeah, let’s have a thumb wrestling contest. I accept. Let’s do it. No take backsies. You’re in for it now, buddy. No one can beat Ernest P. Worrell, when it comes to thumb combat. I am the master when it comes to digit warfare, and I take no prisoners.”
Cracking his knuckles, Iron Will replied, “I believe the pink one said hoof wrestling, not thumb wrestling.”
The sanitation engineer’s confidence deflated faster than a popped balloon. He gulped, “Eh-heh- heh-heh. One second. I need to get limbered up first.”