//------------------------------// // Chapter Seven // Story: This Is Your Story! // by Mahayro //------------------------------// The preparation was pretty swift. Berry hauled the open wagon over by the door. Then she went to the cellar. And she brought up booze. Booze for days. Booze beyond comprehension. So tasty. Escape. That's all one ever needed...escape... What's coming up now... She remembered the Applejack-Daniel's, of course. Maker's Cutie Mark #46 for smoother palates. Then there was the pegasus vice of choice, Flyy vodka. Oh, she even brought up the Haya rum! No need for that Captain Moregait when you got the good stuff. She kept the Dammore tucked away, of course. That's some seriously fancy stuff. But she knew someone might still go for scotch, so up came the Glenwhinnych. Probably Carrot would go for it. All writers drink that, right? But will she...could she... YES! Matrona! You would never hear it in Ponyville, but anyone trying to diss on Earth ponies needs to shut up right now because without them, there would be no booze. Oh, but she wasn't done. Oh, the sight of it all! What would Berry be without her wine? Here comes the '94 Marelot from Hollow Shades--and the '96 Mustangia Chardonneigh! She brought a couple bottles of her local stuff, too, plus a little barrel of that special pear wine mix (the pear picture gave it away, not the picture of rainbow-colored squeeing Luna). Not too much--just her own personal consumption for the night, perhaps? Next came the mixers--limes and oranges and fruit punch and cola, weird little bottles of stuff that probably smells really strong, a shaker, a strainer, fifteen glasses, a package of those tiny plastic swords, huh... This chapter's narration is getting a bit out of hoof. Oh well, fix it later. Oh, and a barrel of Sweet Apple Cider. Can't go wrong there. Anyway, she grabbed everything a three-mare party would need to get blitzed for a week, times about twenty, and hauled off. Sunny heated up leftover casserole for that simpering little Planter and just sulked for a bit in her blubbering and residual tears. Yeah, she's gonna need therapy. Berry had maybe...ten minutes before the rain started? That's gonna suck. Oh, she's grabbing the tarp now, good girl. The setup was perfect. She set off, and then there was rain. Massive tons of the stuff, like a million windigoes just melted overhead. It got everywhere, tarp or no. But Berry weathered on. It's so...picturesque like that, seeing a mare march and trod through the mud like that, carrying a cart that was now slipping a bunch. To say she's no novice to hard times with booze is like saying a beaver's no novice to eating wood. Or Princess Twilight's no novice to getting welts on her head from diving into piles of books. That's what they do. HEY, WAIT A SECOND! There's a shotgun in here!! Blast, maybe Berry would've had some protection in the cellar after all. Oh, to be the pony on the other end of that. Hm. Not just any shotgun, a 4-gauge. There'd be nothing left of the target. Just memories and a spray of blood, maybe? Maybe the rain was icky, but she got through it alright--an affair of about an hour. The destination: one funny little mound in the middle of nowhere. This is how a mare screwed in the head beyond all help was going to make a go of it--living in a pile of dirt. That's so ridiculous... Took her about ten trips through the door to get all that inside. But Carrot was smart, locking and guarding the door each time Berry passed through. How paranoid. How very paranoid. Craziness. There is nopony here. Inside, it was quite cozy and such. Who would have figured a dirt-bound domicile would stay dry in the rain? But there weren't just three. Colgate had brought Berry Jam with her. The Berries seemed to be catching up over some business that couldn't be guessed from afar, Punch resting off of her hooves with Jam while Colgate and Carrot dealt with unloading. When that was completed, Carrot bundled up some logs and crumpled-up writings and made a fire, nearly slipping in the rainwater spattered on the tiles around it. Then she returned to her writing desk, perhaps not wanting to be party to her own party. Colgate strode up to Carrot, a pot of zinnias in each saddlebag. Carrot perked up at this, maybe more than a general gift would inspire. It was a present from her old workplace--but it didn't upset her. She cooed--yes, cooed!--and cradled one of the pots in her forehooves as she sat upright on the high-backed chair. "You knew! How did you know? I thought--" "Well, don't take my crazy life for granted, now! I still have time to read the papers between patients... You've mentioned zinnias multiple times in your articles. You know how I am with funny little details like that...so, not exactly a shot in the dark, huh?" The two definitely seemed in better spirits than when they'd bantered with Puddinghead Pie. They expressed this even more now with a deep hug after Carrot and Colgate each set a plant aside. Carrot didn't immediately let go when Colgate finally pulled back, but neither did she cling awkwardly. So she wasn't being all sullen or grumpy after all. Was she gonna try for simple happiness for once? One of the Berries, the one with the thicker and more curse-prone accent, piped up while Colgate and Carrot were still considering each other with affection. "Please tell me you have running water in here." Carrot facehoofed. "What am I, a cavepony? Yes, behind that wall-scroll over there," she loudly muttered, pointing. The other Berry cackled at her indignation, probably inspired by drink, while the inquiring Berry fetched glasses and filled them from a plain spigot sticking out of the earthen wall. "Ooga ooga--Berry bring drink of clear and no taste." She placed one of the waters with Carrot, adding, "No make Berry mad. Berry drop water on write-leaf, make Carrot stop write, start be social." "...Say, which one are you anyw--" But Berry interrupted this, whispering into her ear. Carrot's questioning ceased, and she shrugged and flicked her ears before returning to whatever she'd been working on, apparently since before company arrived. "Berry mean what Berry say!" The cavemare raised the other glass high above her head--but Carrot was now doing her best to pretend there was no threat. Colgate nudged her possibly-lifelong friend, remarking on the lame threat with a grumble: "It wasn't funny the first time." Berry turned to the other Berry, and they each gave each other some sort of wink and a nod. Then the one before Colgate socked her right in her good eye. Colgate flinched before realizing it was a feint, spilling her held whiskey all over. "Ohhhhhhhh!" everyone else in the room howled at her party foul. The threatening Berry quipped, "You're right, it's totally funnier the second time!" She immediately swiped at Colgate's drink-holding hoof and made her flinch again, this time dropping it entirely; Colgate's horn-magic barely saved the glass from shattering on the stone tile. Everyone whooped again at the properly served pony. Colgate whimpered and her ears parted. Berry settled herself upon noticing this, setting down her water before speaking. "Oh, come now, we're just teasing. It's not like you to be all sensitive anyway. Let me clean that up for you..." She leaned very close to what could only be assumed to be her Cole and passionately licked parts of her coat where booze now resided. "Oooh...my kind of mint julep..." Carrot just scoffed at the pair and returned to writing. Then Berry continued, much lower, while still licking Colgate's right shoulder: "You okay? Have you even gotten much sleep lately?" Her voice creaking with fatigue: "Oh, Jam, I just want today to be over..." Berry Jam blinked. Carrot stopped and blinked as well--for a few seconds, at least, before returning to task. Berry Punch looked quite spirited, about ready to applaud her twisted sister. Then Jam asked everyone else's question: "So, how do you tell us apart so well?" "Well, ignoring the part where I am legitimately sick of the mint jokes and she wouldn't use them on me straight, and you missed one of my obvious hot spots licking me? And I know the lines my Berry uses for pranking to the word, and she wouldn't try to comfort me anywhere but in private, and I actually am kind of sensitive, and she would just wink at me right after making me flinch like that instead of letting it go?" Yes...how? Colgate considered the world around her. She didn't turn back to either Berry, though. "Tell you later. You guys seem to forget whose party this is." Then she took a couple steps over to put a hoof on the shoulder of the pensive, slouched Carrot. "How's the, uh... How's the writing?" She flashed that old congenial smile. "Please..." Carrot's voice was fluttering and full of emotion--and it wasn't clear which emotion took hold. If she were close to crying, one wouldn't know if it would be for joy or sorrow. "You could've just cancelled the party, locked the door, and called it a night. So if you're not gonna do this, then we deserve an explanation." She avoided harshness in this with her even more congenial lilting, drawn down in volume, as she craned her neck down to catch the focused Carrot's eye. Then she added in a totally hushed tone: "You're not gonna get much writing done now with us here anyway. Come on, now..." This is your story...and you're going to write it! Carrot, head still almost touching the writing desk in concentration, tilted her head just slightly and drew her left eye toward Colgate's onlooking face. Again: "Please... I feel something so intense--this has just got to happen. I just gotta write it." "I don't quite know what you mean, hun. Something happened to you inside? Share it with old Queen Cole, I'll keep it a se--" She was briefly stunned by a recollection of earlier events, coughed politely, and then continued. "I'll keep Berry from teasing you about it, alright?" Jam had been listening in, and not subtly, from a couple paces off. She kindly added, "Hey, we're here to help. Nothing bad's gonna happen from us all being here for you. I totally forgive you for your roughness earlier. Let's just be awesome, alright?" She clopped her hooves together and smiled most ridiculously, like a young foal seeing her first Hearth's Warming Eve play. Carrot tilted her head further yet to glance at Jam, but she didn't have anything ready to say. And she wouldn't--because something else caught her full attention. Berry Punch had snuck the long way around the chamber to grab a paper from the distracted writer's desk, and the accompanying slide and crinkle triggered a maelstrom of panic and flailing from the author. Punch, however, had already succeeded; Carrot, determining she could not undo this, decided still to tackle her punchy pal. Punch just howled in laughter, then galloped away madly while Carrot slid from her to the floor. As Carrot recovered, Jam broke into the scene as well, running interference and holding up her forehooves to block Carrot from getting any closer to the one now holding a written page in her mouth. After finally giving up, Carrot grumbled and eyed all three of her house guests with deep contempt. Upon reaching Colgate, that mare recoiled somewhat and her eyes grew large; and she croaked, "Hey, I had nothing to do with this!" Colgate's heart still tickled with curiosity, however, and her objection faded into interest in Punch's prize. She then dropped all illusion of playing for Carrot's team and asked Punch brightly, "So--whadjya get, huh?" Carrot locked her hard glare toward Punch, who was now going over the paper from the floor. Her face scrunched a bit and she shook, but she did not make a peep for a number of seconds. "Say, Carrot... Did ole Pinkie by any chance offer you some of her magic brownies? Because this, haha--oh wow..." She grinned, then took a long draft from the cherry schnapps from the pile she was now beside. The cock-eyed smile that followed this could've lit the whole room if paper lanterns were not already doing the same. She cocked her head back, stood on her hindhooves, and spread her fores apart in an exaggerated sweep. She then attempted an academic-sounding accent, her forehooves grasping at something unseen in front of her: " 'I'm not saying it was aliens...' " Colgate squeaked a cheeky, sharply rising "whaaaaat?" in response to this, then beamed with odd joy at the housewarming host. That host only held a firm lip of disapproval and irritation. Jam, still in front of Carrot for the most part, tried to soften her attitude with a playful smile of her own and flickering ears. After a few seconds with no reaction, Jam added, "It's for your own good, I swear. Lighten up!" The page-bearing Punch clarified the matter, attempting her own brand of dignity in straight talk--not the doctored doctorate variety. "Carrot Top. I love you. We all love you. Yes, even Jams loves you." Jam winked coyly at Carrot and blew her a kiss from six inches away. Punch kicked the paper out of her own reach toward the center of the dome. "And I know this is gonna sound weird coming from me... But, girl, I am sorry. Really sorry. I've got us all on a wild cockatrice chase because of somethin' I saw last night plastered, and then I put a fake tooth out to get you all to go along with me when I couldn't find any. I sure started a hell of a joke. But I didn't see--I was just being stupid. And now I guess I'm letting you get to thinking stupid, too." She bowed her head low, spreading her forehooves to do so properly. "Behold, your jester's neck is on the chopping block." Righting herself before anyone could act accordingly, she finished, "But before you kill me, consider what I'm offering you. This isn't just for the party. It's yours. All of it." She didn't need to motion anywhere; she was already seated in front of the entire hoard of sobriety-solvers she'd brought. Jam cast daggers at Punch with her eyes; Punch lightly considered her and shot back a mischievous twinkle of teeth, for just a second, before focusing back on the jackpot-winner. Carrot, her expression softened by the apology, then furrowed her brow; and she bowed her own head, lost in a personal maze. "But...what was Pinkie talking about?" Maybe whatever wild machination controls her mind? Then, something rapped rapidly on the door to outside. Carrot's ears perked and she focused on the door--but before she could do anything else, Jam glided her head in to meet Carrot's, her pupils the size of moons, almost touching muzzles, sweetening by being. "Why don't you go ask her?" "Theeere you are!" Pinkie Pie giggled upon regarding the two Berries, who had the devilish insight to silently greet Pinkie together. "Oh, and there you are! Or, wait--is it you who's you and then you who's the other you?" She pointed to one, then the other, then the one again, crossing hooves and perfectly explaining her mental machinery in the process. "I say we don't tell her," suggested the one, long-faced. "I say no parties until she figures it out," suggested the other, sneering and matching in accent. Colgate was smiling along. Carrot at least held her own attention. Pinkie stared out at them narrowly, a sea of unbounded complexity peeking through the clenched slits. If not for the ticking of the clock and the very faint pitter-patter above, time may as well have stopped. Then she approached them, eyeing about their bodies and sniffing their coats. One mare gently twisted her foreleg to hide a laceration; the other then mirrored her. She then regarded their manes, considering the subtle differences in each. She couldn't have had enough time looking at Jam from before... She then checked the tails. She was about to lift one up; then its owner said wryly, "Gonna sniff that, too?" This stopped her effort, and she blinked blankly at the proposition. She then tried it on the other and was met similarly with, "Inspecting the merchandise?" Seemingly stumped, she pulled back again, then snickered lowly while rubbing her forehooves together. Then her face went full deadpan, and she shrugged. She merely stated, "Guess I'm stumped. Oh well, guess that means no parties. Guess I should just head home. Housewarming gift's waiting outside. Laa-le-laa, le-laa..." With that, she bounced on all fours merrily and melodically toward the door. Colgate let out a little huff in response, but the Berries endeavored not to move a muscle. Then she stopped, not even a full pace from the exit, spinning her head about. Lightly laughing in her sudden speech: "Oh, yeah. Orange you glad I didn't check your butts?" A half-second later, Jam snorted. Five seconds after that, Punch's back was acquainted with the floor, and her cheeks and muzzle were reacquainted with those of a familiar and suddenly impassioned pink maniac. "Oh, Berry Punch, I've missed you sooooo much! There are lots and lots of ponies I never get to hang out with enough anymore but you're totally one of the most not-hang-out-with-since-forevery and I'm so glad we can just hang out again! I'm sure you were at that party last night, and holy horseshoes wasn't that DJ PON-3 great? And how are your kids doing? And don't you wanna hear about everypony I've met in the Build-A-Cupcake Center? We got a couple all the way from Whinnydad last week! We didn't even speak the same language--except when it came to baking! I even learned something from them, it was sooo great! And what about you, traveling the world, what all have you seen, huh? I bet you're gonna see the Equestria Games too, aren't you? Oh, and did you know that Daring Do is real? Like, really real! And now Rainbow Dash is gonna be in the next issue! I can't wait for all the continuity errors, they're so much fun! And I don't think I told you about the time me and--" Berry Punch put the proverbial cork in it with a forehoof--albeit with a drowsy smile upon her face. Pinkie went on talking to the insides of her own cheeks. "Do tell me about the plot holes later," Punch suggested sinisterly, highlighting the subtext with an eyebrow. Pinkie stopped at that and gazed into her eyes, strangely, intensely, worryingly, ...meaningfully. Then she suddenly resumed "mmfmmf"ing her introductory spiel for some seconds before Punch casually withdrew the hoof containing it. "--so then we all shot magic out of our chests and Twilight died, only she didn't die and she became an alicorn! And she tells me that nopony even remembers what happened earlier that day! So now I'm thinking, what if there's continuity errors in the universe and I'm the only one who can tell the tale? What if--oh wait, Twilight told me that, heehee! She knows too! So maybe two of us? Oh, and I could go on for days about us two! But, uh...you're kind of in a party here, so--" Then she did that ridiculous gasp again. "Wait! This isn't a party!! What kind of a party doesn't have music!?" The pink party-mare hopped off of Punch and derived from the ether a shiny boom-box radio. She promptly hit a button on it, and an oldie song by the Everfree-52s that apparently wasn't about rocks permeated the room. While it wouldn't make for a rave, the goofy sprightly tune removed any hope of brooding from Carrot's agenda. Jam started pumping and thrusting right away, on two hooves and proud of it. The others were having none of it despite their pleasant regards toward Jam and Pie. "Can we just...play it cool for now?" Colgate mumbled. "We need a bucking nap, is what she's saying," quasi-interjected Berry Punch. Carrot yawned. "Uhhh...yeah, okay!" Pinkie maintained her ever-present smile while her eyebrows narrowed mildly. "What's the matter?" But Berry Punch was already heading to hit the hay. Colgate slowly ambled that way as well, drowsily letting on, "Longest. Day. Ever." With a number of exchanged glances and a shut-off of the boom-box but no other words of significance, everypony gradually joined Punch at the haypile. There wasn't enough hay to go around...but there also wasn't a shy pony in the bunch. So they all huddled in, a cluster of warm bodies and muzzles and hopes for a pleasant night. Berry Jam was the only one not particularly needing the nap. After she rose, she headed straight for the alcohol hoard to make her pick for the night. She tittered ever so gently upon considering what to make. Taking a spherical flask of Champbit in one hoof and a bottle of berry-flavored vodka in the other, she poured each equally into a Glenmare'n whiskey glass. Then she crumpled some mint leaves between her forehooves and let them settle and gently stir in the filled glass for a minute before discarding them. In scarcely a moment, she beheld the shooter drink that bore her sousing sister's name. She then used the entire supply of these to make matching glasses for each pony present, placing each by a sleeping mare. There weren't enough curvy glasses to go all around, so Pinkie got a regular tumbler and Berry Punch received a chock-full stein. Jam waited in the silence, listening to the ticking clock and wondering about her life in who-knows-where. After she was satisfied that the ponies were refreshed--maybe an hour and fifteen minutes since the last one conked out--she put her forehooves to the sides of her mouth and let out a piercing whistle. Punch's head shot clear of slumber, glaring a brief death sentence at the perpetrator. Colgate was next to stir, still groggy and seeming to ache. Pinkie Pie and Carrot had somehow nestled quite closely to each other, forehooves about one another, and neither moved. Pinkie opened her eyes, but she seemed quite elated to discover her position and nestled further. Her sigh was...not at all of exasperation. Punch caught an eyeful and earful of this, and her face warmed immensely; she dared herself not to break out in raunchy amusement. Pinkie got into her groove with Carrot for a minute or two before fully realizing she was being watched. She then bugged out, shot up, and whispered something to Punch, whom she apparently trusted. Punch responded out loud so as to utterly demolish any sense that the trust was deserved: "Wait, what's she got to do with this?" But Punch was faced with an epic poker face. Pinkie acknowledged her questioner without expression, trotted over to the boom-box, started up vintage Drafthorse Punk once more, and trotted back to her drink. Then, one sip later, she resumed being Pinkie. "Hey! What's in this stuff??" "Please tell me you didn't give her any coffee..." Berry Punch glanced, with a hint of worry, at the mixmaster. "I don't know. Is there coffee in it?" Jam grinned and winked at her fellow troublemaker. And so Punch grabbed her big mug and took a swig. Not even pulling the mug away, she sighed/shuddered an "Ohh, yeah..." and continued to drink. She started slowly to savor the contents, then took all the rest down in the span of fifteen seconds. The others found themselves only able to watch in awe as she wiped out a lesser pony's entire weekend of imbibement in one go. The slam of the mug on the tile finally woke up Carrot. Carrot got a faceful of Pinkie, there before anyone could even notice. "How you dooooin', sunshine? You finish that thing you were going to do when you ran away? Can I see? Huh?" "Nope, just starting." She lazily reached for her drink. This is where things got a bit ridiculous. Everypony now had a bit in them, everypony, and Carrot was going on about this wild idea she had. As usual, Pinkie was screwing everything up just by being there (though the larger-than-life facial reactions and bombarding of barely related questions certainly helped). But the story got told well enough to be understood, anyway. Carrot was claiming her whole life was a sham, directed by forces outside of her control. She'd seen something like it in one of her comic books, maybe? Colgate pointed out right away that that's something a lot of folks believe, especially when you don't have a great grasp of things and everything's scary when you can't keep reality under wraps in your head. A chemical imbalance, especially one associated with schizophrenia: that can cause these things. Berry Punch was like, "Dude, y'can' do that t'yerself. Quit actin' all airhead and suck it up. People're weird sometimes. Life doe'n' make sense shometimes. But y'still gotta live it." But Carrot kept on going into details about her past and how she could point to decisions she'd made that didn't make sense to make at the time. Pinkie said she had those all the time. What the heck, good call, Pinkie. Then Carrot started to get all mopey again when her rush of conspiracy theory excitement faded away. So Pinkie Pie cranked the music up and they all got down. There wasn't a whole lot to say here. Unless you count Pinkie riding around on top of Punch, gripping her mane hard while Punch play-bucked and everything. (Punch tried to get her Cole to ride Carrot, but you'd have better luck getting Carrot to give a grown elephant a ride tonight. Something about dignity.) Or Colgate trying a break-dance, swiveling her hindhooves about her forehooves and spinning and hopping from the spin onto one hoof (she fell from this last bit, but points for trying). Or Carrot trying some new thing with Jam, with Colgate's helping horn-magic, where they braced each other with one forehoof and were twirling on each of their other forehooves, back ends fully propped up from the ground by magical cushions, like twin ballerinas gone gravity-defying swing-dancers. Carrot could have some good ideas when she wanted to. Oh, and Jam also tried break-dancing but she was clueless and just ended up threatening to break furniture. Colgate had to get her to calm down and remember that that stuff takes practice. Oh, and they all did the conga line, too. Conga lines definitely feel different when you're all friends and at least know each other. You act out a bit more, you get bumping to the music. You get nonchalantly smashing rumps together and hugging closer than you strictly need to. And this group in particular could've devolved into something way less innocent if it weren't for the MC interrupting. Let's see a magic trick! Pinkie cocked her head all funny. (Dammit, this again?) But Carrot asked for one anyway. Pinkie was more than happy to oblige. "I hide all sorts of magic tricks all over Equestria--for, y'know, magic trick emergencies!" She smiled, a bit too widely to be believed...but if anything, this made Pinkie in particular more believable, if that could make any sense. "Hold on, lemme look--is there one back here?" She disappeared behind a wall-scroll. "What about here?" came the same voice from around the protrusion of the fireplace. And then again from inside the writing desk, poking her head out from a place her body couldn't even fit. "Hey, what about he--" She made the grave mistake of trying to peek from behind Berry Punch. Punch instinctively grabbed her by the mane, then shuffled out that bota-bag in her mane from the previous party. "Here, this 'elps me find things. Like myshelf." She poured it all down Pinkie's throat (not that Pinkie was really resisting). Punch set her down and let out a deep, dark laugh; Colgate froze up, eyes wide. Pinkie slumped; then, within just a minute, her pupils flashed with horrific intensity, then expanded to fill her whole eye sockets. She'd gone beyond the brink. Whatever place a pony wanders mentally when they have abandoned nearly all of their inhibitions, the mare known already for disregarding inhibitions--and with her behavior, she needed quite a lot more of them than the average to start with--was flying into that land and well beyond it. She was really flying. When Pinkie moved her mouth again, laughs burbled out. Not like, a burble in a stream of water. Like a burble of a volcano erupting, creeping melting hotness everywhere while fumes billowed throughout. No, really, she was literally steaming. This was getting good. She just kept laughing, one stream of chortles then covered by another more intense and higher stream of chuckles, then buried in an avalanche of cackles, then snuffed by a belting of belly wails that could've shaken the gates of Tartarus. Where did it all come from!? "It's so...it's so good to be good with friends, like, you friends...I'm so sorry for everyone, I know it sucks but Pinkie's gonna make it aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa--" *gasp* "--aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaall right!" You go, you savior of Equestria, you. Colgate had gone mortified by this point. Carrot caught this unusual reaction but didn't know what to say--though her expression hinted at apprehension. Jam noticed the maîtresse de maison (you non-Fancy speakers: that's Carrot) getting all serious and intervened once again. "Goddesses girl, you gots to unwind. Punchie made an excuse for you all to 'go on an adventure' today and now you're seeing forests where there ain't even any trees." A wild chuckle. "Hey, you want some of what she's having?" Jam didn't even wait for a response, quickly stumbling over to the mini-barrel of extra-strength party juice. Punch cut harshly at her twin with her eyes, giving the universal "cut it out" motion across her throat with her forehoof. Jam ducked out of a possible bit of shame there, while her body did a lazy loose-hooved spin back at Carrot. "Well, anything else you like, then." They all reclined against the back wall near the fire and sipped their drinks of choice while "admiring" Pinkie Pie climb the ceiling mesh like a monkey (calling out like a goat, for extra-good measure!). Colgate (she with the Tom Cloppins) was utterly riveted, though occasionally just shaking her head in disbelief, as she beheld the hot pink mare gliding to and fro using her mane and tail impossibly spread out as four rigid wings. Jam (she with the Haya and cola) rested her head on one forehoof while gently, contentedly gazing at the hopped-up pony bouncing up and down off of random parts of her body to the beat of "Equestrial Insanity"--juggling two cakes and a serving knife simultaneously off of whichever hooves weren't touching the floor at a given moment. And then there was Carrot, carefully sipping the Glenwhinnych, uneasy but still apparently amused when Pinkie tried to blow up a piece of gum but blew up her head instead. Punch took this last bit as a cue to set down her bottle of wine and smack the party pony-balloon playfully with the handle end of one of those shovels used for finishing the house. And one brisker whack later, the Pinkie-balloon deflated; and she burped and suddenly seemed herself again. Well, "seeming Pinkie" doesn't really say much, and the small welt on her cheek should also be noted. Punch, amused but suddenly seeming all serious again, looked Pinkie straight in the eye and embraced her right in the middle of the chamber. They whispered some words so nopony else could hear. They hugged even tighter. This scene fit rather oddly against "Hoofsie Roll"--alright, very oddly. Punch spoke up: "I'm sorry again, guys. I bucked up. But never min' me, I just want 's all to have fun and shit. Carrot, yeah, watch yerself with that little barr'l. Shit'll punch a hole in yer head. Heh." She then resumed holding Pinkie, even cradling her head with both forelegs apropos of nothing known to the room, whispering far more silently than she had otherwise been known to do. After a full minute of nothing but the central two sharing a moment and the silly dance tune rolling on, Jam took initiative and started grooving to the beat. And that mare clearly knew something about moving that backside; everypony noticed. Before you could say "chimi-cherry-changa", they all were getting lost with their sauce again--lost in a girls' night out of dirty dancing. In just a matter of minutes, everything was forgotten to hard thrashing on tile. So much sweat, so much bumping--and how did the boom-box know what the moment needed? It alternated with perfect timing between the oldschool and modern booty grooves, from rumpty-bumping to rocking everywhere, never growing dull. Pinkie and her pre-set DJ knew something the world didn't about how things should work, and it was working just fine for five furious flanks tonight. About an hour into this flaring of bare mare jiggly pairs--or more, who's keeping track?--the uncensored version of "Get Bucky" fired up. While the others kept on shakin' their thang in many flavors and at all altitudes, Pinkie suddenly turned hot from embarrassment. One other saucy mare noticed and rushed on over, almost tripping in the effort. "Awwwwwww, feelin' bit lonely? Wagon'sh got 'r name on it, daaahhhhling," beckoned a phenomenally smashed Punch. Pinkie was...on the verge of tears? Wait, what? And then she brought it all home. "We...we just aren't spring chickens anymore, Berry. What're we gonna do? There's gotta be...there's gotta be something more than this." Colgate was paying attention and shut off the boom-box. She then pronounced in her most authoritative voice ever times a hundred (which didn't make it more authoritative--just loud and drunk): "It is now time for the group hugs!" Punch resumed talking to Pinkie in the middle of a big ole pile of hugs from everyone. The kindness expressed to Pinkie before carried a tinge of indignation now. "You're a bucking party pony and you're gonna like it. That's your job. And everyone likes you f'r it. By the goddesses, the motherbucking goddesh-ses ye got not just a shit-ton of friends--y'got a destiny, that's like more than bucking anyone elshe here's ever gon' get." She tried to point a hoof in accusation but they were kind of still all hugging. "If youuuu s'much 's lay one pity party on us"--she paused for dramatic effect, though her body ignored this and kept swaying--"ye're gonna fin' out what Berry-level drunk is about." As the others roused to a chuckle at this, she made her voice and jowls pierce and quiver like a Pro Pony Wrestler in announcing, "Youuuu ain' see' nothin' yet." Cole threw in a "yeah!". And they all hooted together, peer-pressuring the party pony into...what, not talking? The threat of alcohol poisoning? What were they even trying to do? Drunken logic. That and probably some implicit trust in the room that ole Punchie didn't actually kill ponies and knew how not to. Amidst the hooting: "And fer the record: You ain' old at all, pink stuff. I've known buckin' little elemen'ary school fillies 're older'n you." Berry Punch was probably talking about age at heart here. Pinkie broke from the hug, prompting it all to stop. "...I've got work tomorrow. I think I have to go." Carrot was feeling the cantankerous vibe from the crowd, now rowdy against Pinkie. Sticking almost every hard syllable, acting every bit a mare scorned: "Go on! Not like none of us ain't workin' tomorrow! But we're all lazy drunken bastards tonight! So join the club!!" Punch was hugely impressed with this show of spirit from her messed-up carrot-rumped one-time bed-bum. She put a foreleg around Carrot's neck, then drew her in for a big sloppy kiss. Afterward, speaking and shuddering to a mare in somewhat pleasant shock, loudly enough to address her at thirty paces rather than three inches: "That was so...awwwwwesome! That's like, oh, goddesh, jus' keep doing that! Pleeeeease keep doing that..." She kissed Carrot again, no shyness, right along the jawline. She subtly turned within their embrace to eye Colgate and give an even subtler nod--some sort of signal. And so Colgate stood up and beamed at them; Jam joined in. But Pinkie was already to the door, boom-box in hoof. Jam heard the door creak. She called out to the one at it: "Aw c'mon now, they're just getting a little bit rowdy, don't mind them." Pinkie strained to say something, but the words melted into little peeps. Outside there fell no rain now--just dark gloom and the mane of a strange pink protector of the planet, disappearing from view. (She's finally out of everypony's hair!) Jam lowered her head, then a meaningful thought peeked out and brought that head back up. "I should go with her. Just to be safe, y'know. And I have to be going anyway." Berry Punch pulled away from Carrot and snapped to a salute, so quickly and ruggedly that she smacked herself in the forehead. The drunken master didn't show any reaction of pain, but the sound made Colgate wince. Jam just called out to her comrades from the door: "Don't let me get in your way, guys. And you owe me two for the drama, Punchie." Guess she might get the Dammore after all. Within minutes, they all spontaneously decided to nap on the hay again--or perhaps to sleep the whole night through. Cole definitely got the short end of the deal as sharing warmth was concerned.