Bucky quickly gobbled down his meal so that he could be excused to search for Pint. But he was denied and firmly instructed in how ‘…No pony leaves the table until everyone is done eating….,” and “…You and Fall have dish duty and are expected to wait until every pony leaves before getting out of your seats, gathering and scraping off the leftovers from the plates, and heading straight into the kitchen to wash each dish until you see the reflection of your face in each plate…’.
Bucky fussed as he watched the other fillies and colts appear to purposely eat as messily as they could. Some even flashing a sneering smile towards him to show how they knew what they were doing.
“Ignore them,” Fall said softly. “They make less a mess that way.”
Bucky felt his teeth grinding as he attempted to keep his eyes off the other children.
One of the children noticed Bucky was no longer paying as much attention to them. So they picked up a pile of mashed potatos and threw it at him like a snowball.
SPLAT
Laughter erupted as the potato mess spattered about the yellow Pegasus’ muzzle.
“WHAT’S GOING ON IN THERE?” boomed Ms. Powder Puff. This whole time she was outside of the dining area and audibly talking with whomever was responsible for the dining area in which Pint had been sent. Their conversation couldn’t be made out. But they did seem pretty good at yelling into the rooms.
Bucky’s eyes narrowed.
Fall slowly slid her napkin towards Bucky.
“Here,” she said softly. “Just wipe it off. Say nothing. Do nothing.”
“But…” growled Bucky.
“You’ll only make it worse,” stated Fall without facing Bucky.
SPLAT!
Fall found herself the victim of another wad of mashed potato mess. Her small size making it cover her entire head.
The children erupted in laughter.
“DON’T MAKE ME COME IN THERE!” shouted Ms. Powder Puff.
Fall did nothing about the mess on her head. She just slowly went about finishing the peas and potatos she had on her plate.
Bucky was in disbelief over what was happening and being allowed to happen. His anger was at a boiling point and he was about to show the snobby children the real meaning of a ‘Food Fight’. But he knew it would only cause Fall more trouble. Not only that, he would be in more trouble. What was with this place?
***
Pint couldn’t believe his dining experience either. Everything was mushed up to a texture that closely matched that of foal food. There was a gob of orange stuff he thought was sweet potatos, a spatter of what he could only assume was oatmeal, and a soupy substance that he really hoped was cream corn. His drink was served in a spill-free cup with milk that was room temperature, smelled awful, and tasted even worse. He also couldn’t help but notice some of the fillies and colts in the room had terrible table manners, could barely speak, and that some were visibly still in diapers.
Pint felt his stomach turn as he tried his best to ignore the awful smells that lingered about the room in which were only enhanced by the various ways in which the other preschoolers were throwing, dribbling, and drawing with their food.
“What’s with this place?” he asked. “This doesn’t seem right at all?”
A stallion entered the room. His eyes narrowing as he made a very obvious gagging sound upon catching wind of all that was in the air.
“Can someone from the foal’s room get in here!” he cried while trying to hold his breath.
“I’M BUSY!” proclaimed a mare from outside the room.
“WHAT ABOUT THE VOLUNTEER?” the stallion called back.
“Coming!” exclaimed a young mare as she entered the room.
“Take care of this,” the stallion stated as he left the room.
“Uh…,” she said upon seeing and smelling what the room had in store for her. “Okay…”
***
The young mare took good care in tending to each child. The expression on her face often changed from happy to disbelief. Some of the behaviors of the children didn’t seem at all like that in which she was told she’d experience when she offered to volunteer after school.
Pint listened carefully as the young mare did her best to comfort the children he was with while apparently having to fight with the mare in the foal’s room for diapers, wipes, and a changing mat.
“I didn’t sign up for this,” she sighed upon reaching Pint. “Though you seem to be a clean, happy foal.”
“I’m not a foal,” said Pint. “I’m going to be turning seven in just a few weeks.”
“Really?” she asked while noting Pint’s small size. “So you are like that, uh, filly?”
“What filly?” asked Pint.
The young mare could tell by Pint’s behavior and manners that he was definitely advanced beyond the preschoolers he had been lumped in with.
“I’m not allowed to share personal information,” she said. “So I can only tell you that there is an orphan here who is, uh, small for her age.”
Pint thought for a moment. Could she be talking about Fall? After all, the small, brown Pegasus wasn’t in this particular dining area and she was about the same size as all the other fillies and colts who shared dinner with him.
“I’ll let Ms. Powder Puff know you were accidentally placed in the wrong room,” stated the young mare.
The young mare went on cleaning up after the other fillies and colts in the room. Many of which threw terrible tantrums as she did her best to keep them calm as she serviced them respectively.
The stallion took the cleaned children and ordered them to ‘…Go to the room with the big, green sign…” Some of the children fussed, but the stallion’s glare and a few harsh words quickly got them to comply. Those who didn’t were picked up by the stallion’s mouth and flung towards where Pint only assumed was ‘The Door with the Big, Green Sign’.
“I’ve got to find, Bucky,” stated Pint. “And then find a way to get him and Fall out of this place.”