The clang of dirty glasses accented the creaking metal inside the dingy place. There was no color here, just a select few shades of brown and gray with black shadows dancing around. Several ponies shifted in their dusters, each one eyeing the other like they were in a pen of wolves. Three had eyepatches, two sported several long scars across their eyes and one even had a prosthetic leg made from parts of a barstool, train and an old jukebox that once played the last known copy of 'Midnight Boogaloo'.
Behind the counter, a pony with a scruffy moustache gingerly rubbed a cloth spotted with sweat and dried oil onto some porcelain teacups. Behind him, a barista hummed as the scent of fresh coffee filled the air. Several patrons groaned while three rose from their seats, each extending a shaking hoof holding a paper cups. The word 'Starr-BUCKETS' could be seen scrawled in green ink across them.
"I got decaf brewing, ya'll," the barpony grunted. "Regular is in an hour."
"C-Coffee," one of them stuttered. "N-Need... coffee."
The barpony shook his head as the paper cup slammed down on the counter.
"C-C-Coffee!" the patron rasped.
"Sorry, buddy," the barpony replied. "You got no beans for it."
The pony wildly thrashed about as his hooves darted into his duster, kicking up a cloud of actual dust while he was at it.
"I-I got beans!" he shouted. "I-I-I can pay for it!"
"Son, I think you should go see the--"
"NO!" he roared, slamming his hooves down on the counter. "You don't tell me how to live my life!"
Every patron flinched and rose to their hooves as the wild-eyed pony stared down the barkeep. The intensity of the bloodshot eyes staring into him caused the barkeep to sigh and nod morosely.
"Alright, son. I'll get you your coffee," he said in a small voice.
The pony grunted with satisfied smile when a cup of ice cold water splashed across his face. He screamed as he fell back, frantically clawing at the droplets on his face as he kicked about on the cold metal floor. All the patrons took their seats, casually staring off into the distance as the pony thrashed and screamed louder.
"Help me!" he wailed. "I'm drowning! I can't swim!"
The barkeep pressed a hoof to his forehead, hoping the fool would stop soon. Caffeine junkies like him always made a scene, despite them not actually being completely aware of what they were doing.
"Shut up, down there," he grumbled. "And you better not be taking pictures of yourself down there when you finish."
"Selfies are an art!" the pony screamed back.
"Weren't you drowning?" came the barkeep.
A stunned silence filled the room as the pony realized the barkeep was right. The sudden wave of realization that hit him, though, made his forehead lance with pain as he whined and pressed his hooves to his head.
"Bucking caffeine high," he muttered.
A loud slurping filled the room, causing the melodramatic drifter on the floor to groan louder as one other patron held a teacup daintily in his hooves. He smacked his lips and grinned widely as his pupils began to dilate.
"Wow," he muttered, looking into the cup filled with a cyan blue liquid. "That's some good tea."
He grinned widely as a pony said, "Are your teeth glowing?"
Without warning, the door to the establishment flew open, slamming violently against the wall. Everypony in the room froze and stared at the door as the sound of hooves clacking against the metal filled the room. Wearing a beat-up helmet that had 'POLICE' in blue letters stuck on it, the pony known as Bad Cop strode in, his heavy silver sunglasses shifting ever so slightly. Everypony immediately went rigid and sat at attention as he strode by, snorting at each pony he passed.
"W-What can I d-d-do for you, Bad Cop?" the barkeep asked, his eyes tiny.
Spinning in place, Bad Cop glared at the barkeep through his glasses before slowly striding over to the counter, glancing derisively at the pony on the floor.
"I'm looking for a pony," he said in a voice so gritty, sandpaper would plug its ears.
"A-A pony?" the barkeep stammered. "W-We ain't g-got nopony here we shouldn't."
"Oh really?" he asked, leaning closer to the counter. "We'll be seeing about that."
Turning to the patrons, Bad Cop reached behind his back and, after everypony ducked under the table, pulled out a crudely drawn image of a pony next to a soda vending machine.
"I'm looking for this pony," Bad Cop growled. "He's been running the twenty-fourth largest illegal soda ring this side of Bomb-er-lot and eluded me for two whole days."
One patron's head shot out from under his table and said, "That's it?"
Turning to him, Bad Cop growled and the pony shrunk back underneath his table, nodding and silently crying the whole way. Looking away, Bad Cop scanned the room before freezing on a pony who was peeking out from his table. The spiky mane and terrified eyes were all he needed to see to connect the dots.
"You there," he said, taking a step forward.
"STAY BACK!"the pony shouted, standing up straight.
As he stood, aluminum cans jingled from the inside of his jacket as a can of Dr. Hot Tamale rolled onto the floor. Without warning, everypony screamed and Bad Cop backed away as the can exploded, spraying the room with a sticky and sweet brown liquid. Bad Cop ripped off his ruined sunglasses and glared at the pony, who had two more cans in his hooves. The labels of 'Spring Mist' and 'Coca-Cider' were barely visible under his hooves.
"Listen up, everypony!" he shouted. "These cans are filled with Mentos and baking soda! One shake and they'll blow this place to kingdom come! Got it?"
"Doesn't baking soda neutralize carbonation?" one pony called.
"You felling lucky, punk?" the pony roared back.
"Listen, we can do this the easy way or--" Bad Cop began, but the pony began to violently shake the cans in his hooves.
"He took the hard way! Get him!" Bad Cop roared as he charged forward.
"Premier Twilight Sparkle sends her love!" he shouted before the cans glowed white in his hooves.
A blinding white light filled the room as all the ponies shouted in abject horror.
The film cut out as everypony in the square scrambled about, screaming in a mad panic. The film projector raced to the ground as ponies of all sizes charged it, a single glimmering tear of light escaping the lens. It watched the magnificent white screen it had projected the video on, noting the glorious banner reading 'Fallout: Fall of Equestria' in gold lettering.
"The end is upon us!" one pony shouted.
"We need to stop this!" another cried out.
"To Ponyville!" yet another roared.
The rabble continued to overwhelm Canterlot Square, overturning lines of red velvet ropes and stomping on posters labelled Light Chai Empire and New Dark Roast Republic. Countless bodies threw themselves against each other in tearful apologies and swapped different caffeinated drinks, each sipping freely of the brew of friendship.
"And that, my little ponies," Discord said, appearing on top of the projection screen. "Is why you need to stop fighting."
The crowd roared in response, loud enough to shake the stones beneath them.
Far away, Princess Celestia sat on her balcony, her face planted in her hooves as she slowly shook her head. Luna stood next to her, glaring up at the moon with her bloodshot eyes and droopy eyelids.
"'Tis a fine mess thou has gotten us into again, sister," she grumbled.
Behind both of them, a scroll appeared on Celestia's rug in a burst of green flame. It slowly unraveled, revealing the hastily written note inside.
Dear Princess Celestia,
Why is there an angry mob outside my home and why are they throwing cans of soda at me?!
Sincerely,
Twilight Sparkle and Spike