The Sweetest Cider is Diamond White

by Casper B. Wordsmith


Chapter Fourteen - An Appetite for Self-Destruction

The mellow sound of the resident string quartet playing a varied selection of classical music echoed through the grand dining hall of Horsia's. It mingled with the soft buzz of conversation and occasional din of the kitchen that was to be expected from such a busy restaurant. The opulent surroundings in which the elite of Equestrian society dined were dimly lit by candles glowing in the expertly hoof-crafted crystal chandeliers and golden candelabras, giving the environs a romantic air that would be hard to replicate anywhere even on Hearts and Hooves Day. To dine in such luxury was truly was one of the most unique and exclusive experiences that a pony could undertake if they aspired to it.

Occasionally the sophisticates sat around would glance over towards a corner, where seconds before a raucous laugh was heard or a glimpse caught of an over-the-top public display of affection between mares no less, and mutter oaths about the uncouth proletarians occupying said booth. One or two had complained to the staff about such behaviour and how unbecoming it was for the refined and genteel eaterie. The waiters naturally grovelled and apologised, blabbering about how they would deal with the ruckus that was so disturbing to such distinguished guests.

Not that anypony occupying said corner seemed to mind. Even Rarity, whose sixth sense for detecting faux pas in social etiquette was normally sharp as a tack, and the equally refined figure of Octavia were oblivious to the obvious discomfort of their fellow diners. In the presence of such down-to-earth ponies as their respective marefriends it was hard not to let their manes down. Semi-regular visits from the resident sommelier or Horte Cuisine – whose sneer grew ever greater on every encounter with the party – did little to dampen their enthusiasm and enjoyment of the evening.

“I'm sorry to interrupt your evident amusement once more,” the waiter said snootily upon another intrusion as everypony was tucking into their delectable main course, “But I'm afraid some of our other guests are finding your... liveliness...”

“I know what you're driving at Horty,” came Vinyl Scratch's interruption, the DJ clearly a bit worse for wear after numerous pre-dinner (and ante-dinner) martinis washed down with glasses of champagne to celebrate a year of her and Octavia's relationship passing relatively hitch-free.

“The name is pronounced Horte...

“Ah know that,” Applejack interjected, “And on behalf of everypony here ah apologise. We're just tryin' ta have a good time.”

“Indeed you are,” Horte Cuisine stated through slightly gritted teeth, with a tone hardly accepting of the previous excuse, “But we have other distinguished guests who may not take too kindly to your behaviour...”

“My dear Horte,” Rarity said in her sweetest voice, masking her great annoyance at the tone of the waiter, “We wholeheartedly apologise for making your other fine patrons uncomfortable. Now, if it would not be too great a trouble could you fetch another bottle of this magnificent Cheval Blanc?”

A flirtatious flutter of her eyelashes punctuated her request, and it seemed to work as the ice-cold waiter warmed for the briefest of moments to acknowledge this and dart off towards the wine cellar. Perhaps dealing with the glitterati had heightened his sensitivity to the use of such feminine wiles and so feared the ill-tempered reaction of a diva scorned.

“I still have no idea how you can do that, Rarity,” Octavia piped up as the giggling at Horte's rapid departure subsided.

“My dear Octavia, it is a mere mixture of politeness and flirting that nopony can resist.”

Applejack looked up from her portion of the enormous roast butternut squash that lay so expertly carved in the centre of the table to look at her marefriend.

“Beggin' yer pardon Mallow?” Applejack asked, envy lightly peppering the question.

“It's nothing really, dearest. All a bit of harmless fun to butter up an unwilling party.”

“If ya say so.”

Applejack remained a tad unconvinced by this explanation, but before her mind could attribute such doubts to anything more than unfounded paranoia Vinyl let out a belch, necked the remainder of another glass of champagne and snapped her from a train of unpleasant thought prior to its' departure from the station.

“Course it is Applejack. How'd ya think I get such sweet pay from promoters? Just a flash of your eyes over the shades, a sultry smile and they're like putty in your hooves.”

“That's the same manoeuvre you pull on me whenever you don't want to do the washing-up,” Octavia muttered bitterly after a moment of thought-filled silence, the faintest blush of red lighting up her cheeks.

“Except you've infinitely more chance of scoring with me than any of those guys, Tavi,” Vinyl said in a whisper audible to all as she advanced on her lady's neck.

“I damn well hope so!” Octavia said with overly dramatic vigour, turning her back on Vinyl to conceal a sneaky smile. Applejack and Rarity collapsed into peals of laughter once more – both clearly had no regrets regarding the spur-of-the-moment invite extended to the happy couple across from them.

“Ladies, please,” Rarity gasped through hearty chuckles, “We don't wish to invoke the wrath of Horte Cuisine again.”

Applejack agreed, “Yeah, we don't want ol' fussy-britches waiter comin' over again tryin' ta ruin our fun.”

“I know. Not to mention the fact that most of the crusty old sods in this place wouldn't know fun if it came up and slapped 'em,” Vinyl said.

“Hear hear,” said Octavia stifling a laugh at her lover's rude – yet accurate – description. Not a moment too soon either, as the scowling waiter promptly returned with another bottle of pricey Cheval Blanc and another contemptuous look for the ponies sapping the sophistication from the most refined of restaurants.

**********

The consumption of the sumptuous squash and the side of equally delicious stuffed peppers was completed to sated sighs, and not a single member of the gathering could even dare to peruse the dessert menu such was their satisfaction.

“Ah don't think ah could eat another bite. And ah was lookin' forward to that dandelion and lemon souffle too.”

Rarity feigned a look of complete shock. “You full Applejack? Perish the thought!”

“Hush there Sugarcube.”

“In the words of a poetic master you know so well, 'nnnope!'”

“You're a feisty one tonight,”Applejack stated in a quizzical tone.

“After all you have done for me tonight, can you blame me?” Rarity said with a seductive lilt to her voice. AJ's cheeks shone as scarlet as the colour of the brother her mare had so poorly imitated just moments before.

“Anyway,” Vinyl interjected to break up the slightly awkward scene, “How's about a toast? To good friends!” the DJ exclaimed, holding her glass aloft.

“And to even greater lovers,” Rarity added, with a nod towards the celebrating couple across from them and a wink towards the cowpony beside her, still with a face as claret as the wine she held in her hoof. Champagne had never agreed with Applejack, and after a polite glass to thank Vinyl and Octavia for their generous purchase she had stuck to the expensive but exquisite red.

“Yer an inspiration gals,” Applejack stated as Vinyl and Octavia blushed at even more heart-felt congratulations. The partners turned towards one another and engaged in another kiss.

“Right! That is it!” came a bellowed shout from across the restaurant. That display of affection apparently lingered too long for one patron, as everypony looked round in shock to see a blonde stallion storming towards the corner booth.

“It is bad enough that this fine establishment let such riff-raff on the premises in the first place, but to have to see them engaging in such depravity! It simply is not on!”

“Easy, Your Highness...”

“No! I demand to have these common oiks removed from this table at once!” Prince Blueblood bellowed on reaching the table to the shock of everypony in sight.

“I beg your pardon Your Highness?” Octavia asked, evidently frightened by the disturbing development of a raging royal charging towards her and her companions.

“You heard me! Begone, you sapphic harlots!” Blueblood shouted. It was clear to all in the corner - and indeed all in the restaurant - that the oafish prince had partaken of too much liquor.

“Hey, Prince Blueballs! Just because you're on your lonesome tonight doesn't mean you can take it out on us!”

Blueblood advanced further, his sights set on the offending party, “I know your face, you purveyor of musical abomination! How dare you speak to me like that! I shall have you thrown in jail!”

“For callin' ya a little name like that? You must be crazy, Your Highness.”

“Don't you start, farm peasant. Just because you dress in a tacky gown and dine in such places as this does not give you the right to speak to me.”

“Excuse me?!”

“Who said that?”

Rarity downed the glass of sparkling vintage champagne beside her and stood up at this request, her face like thunder, “I did, you great lout! Remember me?”

Blueblood noticeably flinched at the sight of the pony who had embarrassed him so publicly at that memorable fiasco of a Gala.

“I honestly don't know who you think you are. Nobility or not, nopony speaks to my friends like that. Especially not one who has more of a connection with Princess Celestia than yourself, and who is infinitely more palatable as a lover than you could ever wish to be!”

“Why you...”

“Don't you dare interrupt me!” Rarity spat at the shocked and sloshed prince, “I have met mules with more refinement and manners in one hoof than you have in the pea-sized brain lurking underneath that awfully bleached clump of hair you have the cheek to call a mane! How I could ever think of you as my knight in shining armour is a travesty!”

Applejack, Vinyl Scratch and Octavia could do little more than gawk at the fashionista now tearing strips off Prince Blueblood with the ferocity of a dragon guarding his hoard.

“Not only have Octavia and Vinyl Scratch already accomplished more than you could ever hope to in five lifetimes, but in that so-called 'farm peasant' you have the Element of Honesty, the purveyor of arguably the most important agricultural business this side of Fillydelphia and one of the finest ponies I have ever had the sincere sensation of knowing. A category that you wouldn't fit in if you gifted me all the gems in Equestria!”

Blueblood seemed to shrink to microscopic proportions at the verbal slaughter he was receiving.

“Not to mention the fact that this 'farm peasant' puts you very much to shame when it comes to romance. She is the finest lover a mare could ever hope to have the courtesy of dating. You, on the other hand, could be the poster-colt for what to avoid in a stallion. I wouldn't wish your affection on even my greatest nemeses, and that truly says a lot!”

Not a single pony so much as flinched, engaged as they were with the brutal smackdown being delivered on royalty no less.

“Now I suggest you leave now with your tail between your legs before I send for the Royal Guard and your dear aunts collect your trashed self and dump you in the drunk tank,” Rarity finished with venom.

Prince Blueblood didn't need to be asked twice – he immediately made for the door. However his drunkenness was to be his downfall. His legs gave way on the small step between the raised booth and the main floor of the restaurant, causing the noble colt to less-than-nobly fall to the floor and knock himself out on the varnished teak.

Everypony was too shocked at the sudden outburst (or sickened by the loud crunch made as the Prince's jaw hit the floor) to laugh at this deserved dose of instant karma. Indeed the three other ponies were distracted by the sight of a carmine-cheeked Rarity sitting down and pouring herself a large glass of wine to notice two waiters dragging the fallen Blueblood away and the arrival of a near-shaking Horte Cuisine.

“Ladies, I am so... terribly sorry at that development. The prince had arrived rather early for his own reservation and so proceeded to prop up the bar. Needless to say we couldn't refuse him. We are all as deeply shocked and appalled by his behaviour as you must be.”

“It's quite alright,” responded Octavia, “I do believe he received a rather healthy serving of humble pie.”

“Not to mention a heaping bowl of just desserts,” Vinyl piped up.

“Quite, quite,” Horte chuckled – a genuine laugh, and not the fake one of someone angling for a tip, “Nevertheless, in light of this terribly rude interruption to your evening the manager would like to offer you your meal completely free-of-charge as an apology on behalf of us all.”

“Alright! Free food is always awesome,” Vinyl Scratch exclaimed in triumph.

Rarity raised her eyes from the wine that was proving so distracting to her as she lost herself in thought following her most unladylike outburst, “That is very generous of you, Horte. And I do know a thing about generosity after all.”

Applejack sighed and took a deep draught of her rich and flavoursome wine, “It is very kind of ya'll, but ah'm afraid we'll have to decline that offer. Thank ya kindly for it though.” she stated calmly.

Everypony was stunned by the words of the farm-mare.

“Applejack dear, have you taken leave of your senses?”

“Are you nuts AJ? Free food!”

“Sugarcube, I'm not sure what you are saying but it is rather mad of you.”

“Madame Applejack, that is very noble of you. We must insist that you accept.”

“Hush up everypony!” AJ yelled out in an act that drew one or two dirty looks from formerly gawking onlookers, “It's real good of ya to offer, but once more ah have ta say no. Rest assured that what happened ain't gonna appear in the papers through any of us, if that's what ya'll are tryin' to prevent. And ah think now would be a swell time to ask for the bill, if ya'd be so kind.”

Horte Cuisine was still taken aback by the rejection of such a rare and exclusive offer, “If you do so honourably insist, Madame Applejack. I shall return momentarily.”

Not a pony's gaze left Applejack as she reclined in her chair with a glass of wine.

“It's rude to stare, gals,” she said with a chortle.

Octavia was the first to break the silence and ask what was on everypony's mind.

“What was all that about?”

“Ah just don't feel comfortable takin' advantage of a situation like that for my own means.”

“But this is Horsia's! It takes a lot to be offered complimentary service here, and nopony ever declines it when it is on the table.”

“Woulda been the same if ol' Blueblood had been hollerin' at Pony Joe's – ah wouldn't take anythin' in return for silence or what not. Ain't somethin' ah do.”

AJ looked over at the mare she loved. Rarity was as flabbergasted at the gentlecoltly conduct of Applejack during the whole awful scenario as she was when she had laid her eyes on her old friend all that time ago and first saw the beauty she had the privilege of calling her own. She had known how stubborn Applejack could be from their infamous disagreements in the past. But for a pony as fiscally prudent as her to turn down a free meal at a restaurant most ponies would save for years to dine in? It didn't add up to her.

A cheeky smile graced Applejack's mouth for the briefest of moments as she watched the cogs turn in Rarity's head.

“Besides, the lady ain't ever supposed to pay for a date. Even if it is with her dignity,” Applejack concluded, with a subtle wink at the puzzled mare beside her.