//------------------------------// // The Night Granny Lost Her Dentures // Story: Old-Fashioned Bar Hoppers // by Tired Old Man //------------------------------// Pollock's Pub, a lofty place sitting in the city on top of the world, Cloudsdale. The drinks were always cold, the temperature even colder, but the nightlife is as hot and active as any other establishment on a Sunday night. There was no line outside; the building had plenty of space to hold the party-goers inside, and VIP lists didn't exist here. If you wanted to come for fun, to chill out, or just lose yourself in the excitement of the place, this was where it was at. A chariot, painted white and decorated with gold trim, came to a stop just outside the establishment. The two pegasi pulling it, decked out in similarly lavish gold armor, casted wary glances around the area, making sure the area was safe for the passengers they ferried, and could safely depart. Once they gave the all-clear, three ponies stepped out and moved towards the set of black double doors leading into the pub. A golden glow enveloped the doors as they opened, letting the three ponies inside. Beyond the doors, magic of a whole different sort played out on the floor. Young Pegasi, Earth and Unicorn ponies packed themselves denser than a sardine can on the dance floor, with little movements to be made beyond shifting and head-bobbing to the pumping music from the DJ's booth in the back. Strobe lights pulsed and speakers pounded out a beat that gave a heavy, fast-paced rhythm to the place that would get anypony young and filled with vigor to get out and dance if they could. But, you know, sardine can. Good luck. But the three that entered weren't young, not in the slightest. All three were much older than the younger crowd, the oldest well over a millenium. The head of the group, a white alicorn, towered over the others, her horn adding even more unnecessary height to her impressive stature. Though she's normally seen wearing golden regalia and a crown, tonight she wore none, but wore a pleasant smile that one swore would gleam like sunbeams. To her left was the smallest of their group, a green Earth pony mare with their mane done up in a bun, and seemingly about to bust her hip at any given moment. A few gave her some odd looks just trying to process the amount of wrinkles on her face and the hitch in her step, but an icy glare met their curious gaze, and the onlookers found themselves looking elsewhere. The last of the trio on the right was also Earth, but had a tan coat and gleaming silver hair. Golden half-rimmed glasses rested upon her snout as the only accessory she wore. Many others might have recognized her better if she wore her collar and cravat, but that was business; she came here for pleasure, as did her friends. As densely packed as the floor was, the ponies, upon recognizing who was among them, parted their sea of sweaty bodies to let the three through. Even the bartender at the other end of the dance floor stopped polishing his glass to take in the sight as they approached and silently took three stools at the bar, disbelief written on his face with a definition underneath it to boot. The bartender shook his head, set down his glass, and swallowed. "What... what'll you lovely ladies have?" He asked in a tone equal parts earnest and earnestly intimidated. "Three shots of your finest coffee liqueur," Celestia began. "What? Celly, I told ye I'm not tired!" Granny Smith piped up. "But I am. Do you know how many damage claims reports I had to read today? I had to slap myself awake every five minutes to keep my concentration," Mayor Mare countered. "But ye read reports like that all day, Mayor! It's bad fer your eyes!" "Says the mare that can't tell the difference between an apple and an orange ten feet away." Granny steeled her gaze at Mayor for a second, before breaking out into a guffaw. "Ye got me there!" The bartender's gaze shot between the two back and forth as they conversed before stopping at Celestia in between. She giggled a bit before saying, "Just pour the drinks. They're like this all the time." At that, he shrugged, and turned around to start on the drinks. The crowd came to the same sense as the bartender, and quickly resumed their partying. "Hey, Celly." "Yes, Granny?" Celestia turned, her smile still incandescent. "Your sister came back a few days ago, right? Why ain't she with us?" The smile dimmed. "She wanted to come, but I tried to get her reaccustomed to the way things get done in Canterlot." "Night court?" Celestia nodded, and Granny grimaced. "Yeeep, that. I'm not sure if she'll do it, but I said she didn't have to before I left. Don't want to integrate her too fast, or it'll overwhelm her." Three shot glasses were set in front of the mares, a dark brown liquid in each with a thin, white layer of sweet cream on top. "I know the feeling," Mayor chimed in before taking a sip of the liqueur. Celestia and Granny followed, the latter sniffing the drink and taking in the sickly sweet odor before having her sip. "Oh?" "Yep. Got a new secretary a few days ago. Bit of an airhead, but I'm breaking her in to the mundanity of combing through stacks of paperwork." "Is she taking to it?" Mayor took a long breath. "What do you think, Celestia?" "She's driving you up the wall." The reply was blunt, and Mayor snorted before raising the glass to her lips. "Heh, maybe through the roof, too." Mayor spat and sputtered before leveling her gaze at Granny, whose glass was already empty. "Don't make jokes like that, Granny!" “Why not? You have a hole in yer roof at least once a month without fail. What was it last time that went through your roof?” Mayor cast her eyes downward, mumbling something half-heard by her companions. “...pler jam… bucked...” “Whuzzat? Couldn’t hear ye.” “I said my stapler jammed and I bucked it out of my office!” She slammed the bar with a hoof for effect, and in effect, topped her glass of liqueur over. Her face flushed red, and she retracted her hoof. “So that’s what that money request for office supplies was for,” Celestia added in realization before calmly sipping her drink, held aloft in her aura. “Yes,” Mayor said as she brought a hoof to her head. “My apologies for the frivolous expenditure, Celestia.” Celestia looked down, and gave a warm smile at her friend. “It’s no problem at all, Mayor. I have so many bits sitting in my vault I could go swimming in them if I wanted to.” Celestia paused for a moment before adding, “And no, you can’t swim. The treasurer is angry enough that I do it sometimes.” “You have a vault filled with bits?!” Granny exclaimed. Craning her head back to Granny, Celestia said, “Granny, you have a cellar full of enough cider to swim in. I would easily trade my vault for yours.” Granny didn’t hesitate. “No deal, Celly. My cider, my rules.” “I thought as much.” Celestia finished her drink with a dainty gulp, and set the glass down. As soon as it hit, the bartender returned. “Care for another round?” “Got any whiskey that’ll have us keelin over in thirty minutes or less?" Granny asked. The bartender blinked at the question, but didn't hesitate beyond that. "Uh, sure thing. We got Shame's Sour Mash, Barrel o' Drunk Monkeys, Fuzzy? Get Dizzy, Whisker's, and a favorite here called Lost and Found." "Ooh, that last one sounds good. What's the proof?" "A hundred twenty." "Yeehaw! Fire me up, sonny," Granny said before turning to her companions. "You ladies want in? Or are ye too chicken-livered?" "Challenging me again, Granny?" Celestia replied with a daring smirk. "But I won the last round. Are you sure?" Granny Smith nodded, confidence clear in her eyes, and Celestia turned to face the bartender. "Then we go double or nothing." "D-Double?" the bartender asked. "You heard the princess. Two shots for each of us to start, and don’t stop for either of us," Granny confirmed. The bartender audibly gulped before turning to Mayor Mare. She shook her head. "Just one for me, thanks. They need a judge with a mostly clearer head than them." The bartender shrugged again, and procured a tall, rounded bottle from among the many on the shelves behind the bar. It bore a large box marked "Lost and Found" on the front with a few pony's legs splayed out and hung over two edges, A hefty Surgeon General warning on the bottom of the label stated pregnant mares shouldn't drink this, with an added caution that probably no pony should unless they've taken necessary precautions. "Uh, before I pour this, can I ask for payment in adva--" A large bag of bits hit the table; just by sound and the size, he knew there were easily a good thousand bits inside of it. "I believe that should cover our tab for tonight, plus tip. Oh, and one bottle of Whisker's for the ride home, if you please. Have the guards outside hold onto it," Celestia said. "My pleasure, Princess!" Whatever reservations the bartender carried melted away in moments as he set five shot glasses on the table and hastily poured the shots. As soon as the glasses were topped off, he scooped up a bottle of the requested whiskey and called over one of the servers, relaying Celestia's request as if it were of the highest order which… well, it technically was. As the bartender went about his business--not to mention scavenging around the bar for more shot glasses--Granny brought her snout to her glass as she did before, and wrinkled her face at the odor before a great smile wrought upon her face. This stuff had some fight in it for certain, and while it didn’t kick like a jilted mule, it would easily pass for their competition tonight. "Ready fer a whoopin', Celly?" she declared as she raised her glass. Celestia raised her own. "Game on, Granny." Mayor chuckled behind the two, and brought her glass up. "Alright girls, as soon as mine hits the table, the game's on." Mayor raised her glass to her lips, and downed the shot. Immediate regret became a forefront as the burn made itself clear instantly. She swallowed before letting it linger any further, and the passing thought of swallowing brimstone didn't feel like it was too far off the mark. The glass hit the bar, and the other two mares began drinking their own. ~~~ Twenty minutes had passed since that first glass, if Mayor read the clock above the entrance correctly. Although it was difficult for her to be sure; she swore the second hand froze for a second every time a minute passed. Not that her companions minded that, or paid attention to anything else. What started as two glasses became ten, then twenty. Mayor lost count after thirty once the bartender started sneaking away some of the glasses to clean them for other customers, but at least fifteen still remained on the bar next to Celestia and Granny Smith, Celestia winning by one. Granny's face mimicked the shade of her staple red apples at Sweet Apple Acres. Were it not for one hoof firmly resting on the bar, Mayor was certain she'd lose her balance if she tilted too far away. Her other hoof showed similar grip on the shot glass it held, the whiskey staying mostly level despite Granny's swaying motions. A fierce grin crossed her lips before she downed the glass and set it on the table, bringing the count to sixteen and evening the score. "Ishyer turn, Celleshtia," Granny slurred. Celestia was in similar dire straits. Gone was her regal composure as her swaying mimicked Granny's, one hoof bracing the stool while the other held the glass. Around the tenth drink, she couldn't muster the concentration to hold it, but that wouldn't grind this contest to a halt. Celestia levelled a gaze at her opponent holding a cocky grin and the face of an old tomato. Her appearance hardly fared better, a rosy tinge coloring her face a shade of pink recognizable to all in Ponyville. To make matters worse, hiccups had come to her, and now she had to time her drinks accordingly. As soon as one such hiccup passed, Celestia took her chance and downed her own glass. The initial burn felt from that first shot had died down to measly embers mixed in with a numb, empty sensation, and with a hasty gulp, the mild tingling sensation from the liquor in her mouth vanished in seconds. Her glass came down on the bar, leading the race by one again, before looking at Granny with a sheepish grin. "Thatsh... all you got, Gran? You're not--hic--even trying, are you?" Fuming at the jab, Granny relinquished her hold on the bar, daring to grab two glasses at once. "Ah'll show ye who's tryin!" She cried before pouring both in her mouth at the same time. A small droplet splashed off her upper lip, and made contact with her eye. The glasses flew into the air as Granny spat her drink all over Celestia, cursing and muttering a storm the likes of which every pony in the bar hadn't heard. But something more terrifying than her tirade flew from Granny's lips than ill words, and it wasn't the shot glasses falling from the sky. Warm, damp, and reeking of whiskey, Granny's dentures landed on Celestia's lap. Celestia, despite her drunken haze and lost composure, acted in a reasonable, straightforward manner. "Eeeeeeekk!" Celestia flailed out of her seat, crashing to the floor and kicking the dentures out of her lap and into the dancing area. In seconds, her scream was drowned out as everypony on the floor panicked. "Mah teef!" Granny mouthed as her dentures bounced around like a foal in a bounce house. She squinted her eyes, trying her hardest to keep track of her pink-and-white chompers. Mayor, on the other hoof, fell out of her seat doubled over in laughter. Even among the screaming ponies, Celestia and Granny could hear it loud and clear, the latter breaking her gaze off her dentures to lay into the laughing mare. "Mayor, thash not funny!" Granny spat. Mayor's laughter only increased in volume as Granny's dentures flew around the bar, scaring every patron within a three-foot radius of it. Those not caught in its flight path, however, laughed at the spectacle before them as ponies slipped, fell, and slammed into each other haphazardously on the dance floor trying to avoid the renegade mouthpiece. Granny was not amused, scowling at her teeth having become an impromptu volleyball. Celestia finally rose from the floor, woozy and holding a hoof to her head. "What happened?" she asked. Mayor took a few breaths to calm herself before answering. "Granny... huff... her teeth are... touring the bar thanks to you." Vaguely recalling the pink thing that landed in her lap just a moment earlier, Celestia badly repressed a snicker, and Granny cut her off. "Dontchu start too, Shelly! Can't ye do somethin' about mah teef flyin around?" Celestia shook her head to clear it for a moment and said, "I can try." Summoning her arcane magics with the shred of concentration she mustered in that moment, she focused in on the dentures. A thin golden haze surrounded the object, halting its flight, ceasing the scuffle on the dance floor as everypony gazed at Granny’s dentures. Celestia allowed herself a proud smile. Hah! I still got it. Now, I just need to pull it in and-- “Hic!” Misfiring on her pull magic, Celestia shot the dentures out the nearest window at breakneck speeds. The window glass never stood a chance. Despite her dulled senses, Celestia felt Granny’s amber eyes burrowing divots into the back of her skull. Mustering the remainders of her current brainpower, she turned to answer that glare with the best response she could manage. "Whoops."