Sitting in the tub, Tarnished Teapot wondered how a bath could have a ‘happy ending.’ The whole thing was confusing. The mare in the front had kept asking if he was interested in a ‘happy ending’ with his bath. Tarnish just wanted to be clean. The tub was copper, full of warm but not hot water, and there was a bucket filled with ice and cold fruit flavoured sodas beside him.
There was something in the water that promised to remove the stink from his pelt; it smelled funny, medicinal, it cleared his sinuses and made him sniffle. His hooves tingled, something in his bathwater was neutralising the alkali dust and it made his frogs hurt, but in a good way.
Somepony was having a nice bath. Tarnish could hear her moaning. He had moaned too when he had eased himself into the soothing water. A little moaning was fine, but too much moaning was just plain silly.
Feeling tired, Tarnish really wanted to do something other than go back to his room and sleep in the clean corner. He took a sip of soda and wondered if a few cups of coffee might help him get pepped up for a nice evening. He had the money, he had worked hard, he was entitled to a little fun. He deserved it.
At long last, the tyrant sun began to set. The temperature dropped down to a balmy one hundred and one degrees. Tarnished Teapot, now cleaned up, stench free, and with a nice meal in his belly, took a look around, trying to get a feel for the night life here in Dodge City Junction.
Night life in Ponyville consisted of hanging out at the bowling alley, walking around after dark, talking to other ponies who were out walking around after dark. Here in Dodge City Junction, when the sun went down, it seemed as though the town was just waking up. Honky tonk pianos could be heard out in the streets, the plinky, jaunty tunes played upon them drifting out through bat wing doors. Mares with too much makeup began to walk the streets, wearing clothing that caught the attention of the eye and kept it. The scent of whiskey and tobacco filled the air.
Tarnished Teapot had not seen anything like it. He yawned and tried to take it all in. Electric lights flickered on, flashing signs, blinking beacons that promised drinks, dancing, and a good time to be had by all.
“You, you look tired… need a little pick me up? I have stuff that can help you have fun all night long. You can drink all the whiskey you want, dance, have a real nice time, and just keep going,” a skinny looking unicorn said to Tarnished Teapot.
“Huh?” Tarnish replied, giving the unicorn a wary glance.
“Alchemically laced salts, treated with the finest compounds known to zebrakind. Gentle, safe, and effective. Perfectly safe, perfectly legal, absolutely nothing wrong with them at all. If there was, I wouldn’t be able to sell them,” the unicorn said as he smiled, his mustache quivering.
“Hmm.” Tarnish looked at the unicorn. It sounded like a stronger version of coffee. The unicorn’s words had a ring of truth to them. It was illegal to sell illegal things, so it must be okay.
“I’ll give you two doses and a sample shot of something stronger for the low, low price of twelve bits… no, wait, I can’t cheat you like that, ten bits is perfectly fair and good.” The unicorn smiled. “Brother, dear brother, can we afford to take that kind of loss?”
Another unicorn turned and smiled. “I think we can. We’ll make up for it somehow. Right, brother?”
The two unicorns grinned at one another and then turned their million bit smiles upon Tarnished Teapot. One was mustached, the other was not. Both were dressed in well tailored coats.
Tarnished Teapot studied them both. Both of them had apples for cutie marks. Tarnished Teapot’s eyebrow raised. “Both of you are Apples?”
“Why yes we are! Mister Apple and Mister Apple,” the mustachioed unicorn replied.
“There is no name more famous for honesty, integrity, and economical value… our products are so good, they’re guaranteed by our good name as members of the Apple family!” the other said in a show pony's voice as he grinned from ear to ear.
“Been working all day. I’d like to have a nice night. How much is it for the strong stuff?” Tarnish asked as he continued to study the unicorns.
“For you, we can give you a second dose for the low, low price of five bits, but only just this once. So you can see for yourself how safe it is, how effective it is, and how it can turn you into the pony that you were always meant to be!” the mustachioed unicorn replied.
“And after a night of fun, you might need our miracle cure during the day as well… run faster, run longer, work all day and never once feel tired! Sleep is a disease, and we have found the cure, isn’t that right, dear brother?”
“Correct, brother!”
“Fifteen bits eh? I’ll take it,” Tarnish said. “Small price to pay for a good time.”
“Here you go, good sir. Four cubes of our cure for sleep! The two smaller cubes are the samples… try these first. Take one or take both. They’ll wear off in a little while. The two larger ones are stronger. Much stronger. Take one tonight and save the other for morning, or come and find us in the morning if you need a pick-me-up after a long night. Just look for our wagon!” the unicorn said as he grinned a show pony’s grin.
“Have fun… live a little… and welcome to a life without consequences! You’ll never feel tired again!” The mustachioed unicorn’s head bobbed in an excited fashion. “Look folks, another satisfied customer!” he cried to the crowd that had gathered.
“Yes, and you too, can know his youthful enthusiasm and excitement! Have we got a deal for you! Our miracle cure will keep you young and excited all night!”
Taking his cubes, Tarnish walked away grinning, pushing his way through the crowd that had gathered, ready to go out and have a good time.
Popping a small cube of salt into his mouth, Tarnished Teapot crunched down upon it with his teeth. It was salty, it was bitter, it had some sweetness, and there was a metallic flavour that crept over his tongue. His ears began to ring and he felt his heart racing in his barrel. He could feel the blood flowing through his body and he became aware of every strand of hair in his mane.
A feeling of arousal sprang up in his guts and settled through his groin.
He felt great. He had never felt more awake in his whole life.
The lights of the city seemed brighter. His vision doubled for a moment, then tripled, and then came back into focus. He heard a rushing sound, like a raging torrent of water. It was outside of his head, but it was also inside of his head. He could feel the raging river rapids inside of his head, his thoughts cascading over rocks, forming whirlpools and whitewater as the river of his mind went from a fleeting trickle to a consuming flood.
Everything around him grew beautiful. The mares with painted faces caught his eye. The bright colours seemed brighter. It seemed that every eye was looking at him, watching him, and Tarnished Teapot realised that he must be a very handsome colt.
For a good time, there could be no better place than home. Stumbling, Tarnish headed back for the Roost, hoping to have a good time tonight.
Tilting his head back, Tarnish drank down a glass of whiskey. He coughed, spluttered, and sucked air into his burning lungs. The whiskey and the alchemical salts produced a weird state of drowsy awareness. He felt slowed down, but still sped up, dull but sharp, his body felt limp but also like a coiled spring.
He had eaten the second sample cube almost an hour ago and he could feel it wearing off, or maybe it was the whiskey. There was a show on the rickety stage, it was called the Fo'c'sle Follies, and it was about a lone stallion that had joined an airship crew made up of mares, hoping to see the world.
The mares did terrible things to the poor stallion to make him earn his keep.
There was a big song and dance number on the stage, with lots of kicking, flashes of flesh, and a great deal of perverse innuendo. Tarnish watched it all, taking it all in, having the time of his young life.
The last glass of whiskey seemed to have changed something for Tarnish, the sleepy feeling of awakefulness had changed to just a sleepy feeling. He pulled another cube out of saddlebag, popped it into his mouth, and crunched it up.
Now, there was only the feeling of being awake. Very, very awake. He could feel himself vibrating. No… he was not vibrating, the whole universe was vibrating. Everything in his ears echoed. The walls seemed to bubble, like stew in a pot. He could see the bubbles popping up to the surface. Pop! Reality was simmering all around him. The sawdust on the floor was alive, moving, it flowed back and forth like waves upon the ocean. Tarnish had never seen the ocean, but he had seen the tide coming in on the sawdust. His horn felt funny, he could feel pressure on it from the outside, almost as if something was pinching it.
“Hello handsome,” a mare said as she sat down in the empty chair beside Tarnish. “You look like you know how to have a good time… just get paid?”
Something about the way the mare talked made Tarnish squirm in his seat. It was breathy, needy, the way her eyes gave him that sleepy, heavy lidded stare. Tarnish nodded. The mare was wearing a lot of makeup on her face, she had painted herself, but Tarnish could see a black eye under the makeup and the swelling was noticeable to him even in his drug addled state. He felt a mixture of desire and pity for her.
“How’s about we go upstairs to your room and maybe have a little chat between ourselves?” the mare asked.
Tarnish felt the mare’s chipped hoof stroke his neck. She smelled of whiskey, she smelled salty-sweaty, and there was something else that Tarnished Teapot couldn’t quite put his hoof on. Something… musky. “W-w-what w-w-w-would w-w-w-we talk ab-about?” Tarnish stammered.
“Oh… you’re shy… how precious… we could talk about that,” the mare replied as she gave Tarnish a wink. “When I talk, I like to lean over and whisper things into a pony’s ear. I want to make sure that they hear me… every… single… word… sometimes it can be hard to hear a mare… when things get… heated.”
“Um…”
“I have so many things I’d like to tell you… but there is so much noise in this place. We’d have to be real close together so I could whisper right into your ear.” The mare’s hoof traveled down Tarnish’s barrel, down his stomach, and then she touched his thigh.
“Okay,” Tarnish said in a low squeaky voice.
“Fantastic,” the mare replied in a breathless, almost panting voice.
His head aching, Tarnish awoke. His bed was wet and sticky. A foul smelling funk assaulted his nostrils. He was sore all over, his mouth was dry, and his vision was very blurry. He groaned, discovered it hurt to move, and the light coming into his window burned his eyes.
It was already too hot. He fell out of bed and landed on the floor. He didn’t know what time it was, but based upon the heat in his room and the angle of the sun shining into his window, it had to be approaching midday. As he lay upon the floor, he looked up. His saddlebags were open. Crawling on his belly, he pulled himself over. There were a few walnuts. His coin purse was gone. His mirror was still here, which was weird. It took a few dull moments to realise that the mare had taken her payment for showing him a good time.
She had even taken his last salt cube. But the mirror had been left behind.
Tarnish realised that his duster was gone, it was no longer hanging up on the hook on the back of the door. His pith helmet was still here though, lying in the corner. Feeling nauseous, Tarnish began to gather up his things and wondered if he would survive a day of courier work.
“That’s him,” a pegasus said to the big earth pony beside him. “She got the money from him. I saw them go upstairs together, Big Ironshoe.”
The big earth pony growled and started forward towards the ridiculous looking colt wearing a big stupid looking hat. A group of small ponies followed, a pegasus, a unicorn, and a few earth ponies.
Stout Ironshoe was a big pony by any standards, and his cronies called him ‘Big Ironshoe.’ Stout was not the sort of pony who had ‘friends.’ He stomped forwards and the smaller ponies of Dodge City Junction got out of his way.
“He’s the one that gave your wife the money she needed to escape, yep, I recognise him for certain!” the pegasus said. “That’s the pony your wife peddled her plot to!”
“Shut up,” Stout said in a low rumbling growl.
“Shutting up, yep, shutting up right now,” the pegasus replied.
“HEY! YOU!” Stout shouted to the colt wearing the ridiculous hat. “You… yes you… you poked my wife and then gave her money… she skipped town on a train while I was away taking care of some business last night.”
“I had no idea—”
Stout slammed his hoof into the colt’s mouth, sending him sprawling. In no big hurry, Stout trotted over to where the colt had fallen several yards away, raised up one hoof, and brought it down upon the colt’s right front leg.
The bone gave way upon impact, leaving the colt’s leg at an odd angle in the middle.
“Go get us a rope,” Stout said as he ignored the colt’s sobbing cries of pain. “We’re gonna go hang this little runt someplace out of town.” Some of the townsponies had stopped to stare and Stout raised his eyebrow at them. “And just what are you looking at?”
The crowd dispersed, the ponies fleeing. Stout turned to his cronies and chuckled.
“Good day for a hanging, ain’t it, Big Ironshoe?” the pegasus asked, chortling as he spoke.