//------------------------------//
// Chapter 2: In Which A Human Expresses His Severe Distain For Ponies 
// Story: (Not My) Home Sweet Home 
// by naturalbornderpy 
//------------------------------//

“Chaos? You said our last name was Chaos?” Twilight asked once they’d both been escorted to a booth near the back and given a pair of menus and a wine list.
                
Discord seemed unperturbed. “What? ‘Discord—Spirit of Chaos.’ Last name: Chaos. What’s so wrong with that?”
                
Twilight leaned across the table. “You couldn’t have gone with Sparkle? Or even just Discord?”
                
Blocking most of his face with his menu, Discord added, “You really think I’ll be taking your last name once we get married?”
                
“I…” Twilight froze for a moment. “Ponies don’t even exchange last names.”
                
“But you’re forgetting we’re now on Earth, sweetie honey-bun banana dear.”
                
Using her horn, Twilight brought up her own menu to prop open. “Don’t think I’ll be forgetting that anytime soon…”
                
“Good evening, you two!”
                
A waitress dressed in white with a black apron stood by their table with pencil and pad in hand. When the waitress turned to Twilight, she fixed her with a beaming smile so bright that it could’ve made even Pinkie Pie jealous.
                
“I must say, this place is certainly becoming quite the hotspot for ponies,” she continued on warmly. “We must have at least six tables booked tonight just for you guys.”
                
Twilight took a second to glance behind her, spying a couple mares sharing both a booth and a slice of cheesecake. Across from them were a stallion and another mare, munching on some kind of cheese and bread appetizer. When the mare at the second table caught Twilight looking at them, she flashed her a smile alongside a wave. Twilight did the same in return, although with not nearly as much enthusiasm.
                
Twilight turned back to the waitress. “So… you cater to a lot of ponies here?”
                
The waitress—with the nametag reading “DIANA—Ask us what our specials are!”—lowered her pad to place her hands on her hips.
                
“Not so much when you guys first arrived, I’ll admit. But recently we’ve been seeing a lot of ponies coming through our doors, with a lot of them coming back again and again.” She leaned in close as if sharing a secret. “I think it might have something to do with our sign outside or our specialty pony menu at the back. Twelve dishes—all vegetarian and geared towards ponies. Tasty, too.” She laughed, a little too loud. “Not saying you can’t order whatever you want on the menu, but so far it’s been a pretty big success. I think our busboy—no, wait, I still have a habit of saying that wrong—our buspony must order something from that part of the menu every time he’s done another shift.”
                
Twilight’s resting wings fluttered a bit. “You have ponies working here? Like here, like right now?” she asked, her words sounding close to a gasp. “Do they all bus tables?”
                
With a good-natured laugh, the waitress shook her head. “No. Just the one. An Earth pony that applied a few months ago once he saw that we were hiring. I think a few people were a little worried at first, but once we told him it wasn’t all too sanitary picking stuff up with his mouth, he found a way to do it with his hooves while balancing a tray on his back.” She whistled tunelessly. “And here I am, clumsy as can be with a perfectly functioning set of hands.”
                
The waitress brought a single finger to her lips as she noticed something.
                	
“You couldn’t be… Twilight Sparkle, could you? Wings. Horn. Purple.”
                
Twilight felt a lump of ice drop into her gut.
                
“It really is you, isn’t it? Wow. My first major celebrity. Don’t worry, I won’t make a scene or ask for an autograph or anything. Just saying ‘Hi’ should be enough. I really can’t believe I didn’t recognize you earlier! I must’ve read that Lazy Sombra book until the spine nearly gave out! Not the most well written book I’ve ever enjoyed, but entertaining enough.”
                
Twilight scratched at the side of her face. “You do realize that book was based on fact, right? As in that all the stuff that happened to us was true and that’s why we’re here now? Certainly not something I’d call entertaining.”
                
Dropping her pad and pencil to the floor, the waitress grabbed at her chest with both hands. “Oh, how insensitive of me, bringing it up like that without even thinking! I just have such a hard time wrapping my mind around everything’s that happened—and the fact that it was all true!”
                
Still with his face hidden behind his menu, Discord asked her, “Does this thoughtless remark mean we get an appetizer on the house?”
                
The waitress didn’t even turn in his direction, but nodded regardless. “Yes! Of course. Whatever you’d like.”
                
Twilight closed her menu and placed both hooves on the table. “You said other ponies worked here. Would you mind telling me about them?”
                
The waitress showcased that same smile from earlier, clearly happy to be back on a cheerful subject. “Well, there’s a pegasus that does deliveries for us now. A mare, I believe—I’ve only seen her the one time, but I hear she’s fantastic. No more downtown traffic jams; no more gas or speeding tickets. Once the owners bought her a little handy-dandy GPS system and a backpack thingy to hold everything in, she was flying out with deliveries almost as fast as people were placing them. From what I understand, a lot of customers that want something delivered first call ahead to ask if she’s working before even asking for stuff. That must be why the owner’s been out looking for another pegasus to hire.”
                
She cocked a heavily plucked brow. “You wouldn’t happen to know anyone, would you?”
                
Twilight felt her cheeks growing red. “Sorry. No. My pegasus friends don’t live in the same city as we do.”
                
The waitress nodded, before her eyes suddenly sprung open. “And here I almost forgot about Star Burst! Everyone just adores Star Burst here.”
                
Twilight couldn’t recall the name. “Star Burst?”
                
Nodding with vigor, she added, “He’s a unicorn that runs the bar three times a week, although I think we’re trying to get him up to five. Everything I said about the delivery pony, I could say triple for him. Everyone that comes here just loves the way he mixes drinks.”
                
As if lost in thought, the waitress looked away from Twilight to stare in the direction of the restaurant’s dimly lit bar.
                
“Somehow he uses his horn and voila… all these different glasses and colorful drinks start flying above his head and pouring into one another. It’s wonderful. It’s really just like a magic show!” Her last sentence gave her pause. “Actually, it is a magic show, isn’t it? A magic show with alcohol. So even better! And last week, the owner even added a few pony-oriented drinks to the alcohol list—one’s an apple cider, and I think the other’s more of a fruity drink with a whole bunch of colors. I haven’t tried either yet, but I’m sure they’re pretty good.”
                
As much as Twilight had been enjoying hearing about all the ways the restaurant had been working alongside ponies, a far more important thought came to mind and refused to depart.
                
“Does…” she started meekly, before starting again. “I mean, do they seem happy, though? The three of them… when they’re at work or going home?”
                
The waitress took the opportunity to pick her pencil and pad up off the floor.
                
“I think so, although you’d need to get to know them to be sure. I know our busboy—buspony, darn it! I know our buspony lost a few of his family members when your Canterlot was attacked, but I think he’s adjusting all right. I think at the beginning he was worried that he wouldn’t work out or that no one would like him. I think maybe that’s how most of them felt. Personally, I can’t understand anyone that could hate you guys. A colorful pony that talks? Sounds fine to me! Plus, every pony I’ve ever met has been just as sweet as sugar. You sure Equestria wasn’t actually located in Canada?”
                
The waitress brought a hand to her mouth to chuckle at her own joke. Sadly, she was the only one doing so.
                
Discord softly flipped to another page of the menu. “We already did the Canada joke, thank you.”
                
Once again, the waitress ignored him, focusing on Twilight.
                
“And how could someone possibly hate such an adorable little face?”
                
Before Twilight could respond, the waitress scratched at her head with her fingers, causing her to tense. The moment she realized what she was doing, the waitress whipped her hand away in shock.
                
The waitress’ gaping mouth formed a near perfect circle. “I’m so, so sorry about that! That was so wrong of me. I’m sorry, it’s just… you see someone cute and you just wanna squeeze ‘em and…” She shut her eyes for a moment. “I’ll stop now.”
                
Illuminating her horn, Twilight tried to re-straighten her mane. “It’s fine. Really, it is. Oddly enough, this has happened before tonight and I’m sure it’ll happen again.”
                
Finally, Discord set his menu on the table to stare at the waitress.
                
“So you don’t think I’m cute, too? No head scratches for adorable little Discord?”
                
Now the waitress’ near perfect circle mouth flipped upside-down into a grimace.
                
“How ‘bout now?” Discord inquired, before he snapped his fingers and turned himself into a colt version of his prior pony self.
                
With his pony features, he gave her a rather crooked grin—his sharp teeth and toxic red-and-yellow eyes not completely selling the fact he was trying to be cute.
                
“Yes…” the waitress eventually mumbled out, clutching her thin pad to her chest. “So… cute. Yes. Much cute. Very.”
                
Leaning across the table again, Twilight gave Discord’s horn a forceful flick. “Knock it off, Discord. Be nice.”
                
Discord stared at her. “I’m always nice, Twilight. What most people fail to grasp is just how many levels of nicety there actually are.”
                
Another loud snap and Discord returned to his normal stature, albeit this time wearing a pair of half-moon spectacles. He gently flipped open his menu again.
                
“Mares always order first. Twilight, what would you like?”
                
Having entirely forgotten that fact that she was supposed to order and eat a meal there, Twilight awkwardly leafed through the menu’s numerous pages of listed items and accompanying pictures until finding the half-page at the back labeled: “PONY MENU”. After a quick scan, she looked at the waitress again. “I’ll have the cranberry and pecan salad with dressing on the side, please.”
                
The waitress appeared to have gotten herself under control again, as she shakily jotted down her order. “Anything to drink?”
                
“Do you have lemonade?”
                
“Yep. Sure do.”
                
Discord shot out a hand, causing the waitress to flinch back.
                
“Nope. No lemonade for my special somepony. At least not tonight. Tonight she’ll be having one of those nifty apple ciders. The ones I’ve heard mentioned only a single time and presume must be good.”
                
The waitress kept her eyes on her writing pad. “Oh. Uh. All right. And will you also be ordering from the pony menu?”
                
Discord gave her a sour look. “Do I look like a pony to you?”
                
The waitress thought for a long time, before admitting, “You actually look like a lot of things; a lot of things that weren’t meant to be put together.”
                
Discord remained silent for close to ten seconds before guffawing aloud, frightening a few patrons close by. He pointed an eagle’s claw at her. “Oh, I like you! I like you a lot! I think I might keep you now.”
                
The waitress seemed amused by the first two things that Discord said, but not so much by the third. Steeling herself, she asked him: “So what can I get for you, then?”
                
Casually, Discord shoved his closed menu to the side of the table. “I’ll have the steak sandwich—rare. With a slice of key lime pie.”
                
The waitress stopped writing. “You want the pie alongside your main course or afterwards?”
                
“On top of the steak, actually. With extra whipped cream, if you can. And accompanied by the darkest beer you have kicking around the joint.”
                
Adding a couple extra notes to the side of her pad, the waitress tucked the paper into her apron and nodded curtly. “I’ll go place your orders, then.”
                
When the waitress left the table, disappearing into the kitchen, Discord slid to the edge of his seat and grabbed both of Twilight’s hooves with his hands. He exhaled loudly and gave Twilight a smoldering look.
                
“You know, Twilight, with the snap of my fingers I could turn everyone in this place into a pony, right now. Wouldn’t that be a hoot? A whole restaurant full of people suddenly finding themselves with four hooves and a tail?” He removed a hand to pull on his wispy beard, narrowing his eyes as he glanced around at neighboring tables. “Better yet, why not all of Earth? If a rare few of them don’t take kindly to the existence of ponies, then I’ll just solve the problem altogether by making everyone a pony! Oh, how’d I just love to watch the official address from the President afterwards.”
                
Straightening his back, Discord did his best official sounding voice.
                
“My fellow Americans, it has come to my attention that last night, Earth’s entire population of homo sapiens was somehow changed into small, colorful pony-like creatures. And I, having never been a fan of wearing clothes in the first place, am totally all right with this. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go fly around the White House for a bit because I once had a dream I could do that and now I can.”
                
When Twilight laughed at that last part, Discord smirked and traced his thumb around her hoof. Twilight could hardly remember the last time she’d actually laughed at something and meant it.
                
One of Discord’s red pupils formed into a spiral and began bouncing around his eye. From past experiences, Twilight knew this meant a terrible notion had buried itself deep inside the draconequus’ skull.
                
“So that means you’ll let me?” he pleaded to her like a child.
                
Twilight’s chuckles ended in an instant. “I thought you were kidding.”
                
“But I never kid about chaos, sweetie-pie dragonfly! Okay. We’ll split the difference. How ‘bout half the population, then? More ponies to be friends with, right? We could have a games night at the apartment!”
                
Twilight shook her head. “No, Discord. No turning humans into ponies. I think since everyone’s already read that book of Steve’s, they’d realize just who’s to blame pretty quick.”
                
Discord tapped a claw against his cheek. “I guess you’re right. And I’d just hate to do that to Fluttershy, what with her starting that new job of hers.”
                
Twilight laughed again, and Discord edged closer to the table until his stomach pressed against it.
                
He raised a brow. “Happy you finally left the apartment?”
                
First taking a moment to stare at her hooves, Twilight glanced from Discord to the two tables of ponies behind them—the furthest of which was in the midst of being bussed by a shorter stallion with a tray of dirty dishes balanced on his back.
                
“I am, actually. It’s nice here. It’s… nice meeting people that are so accepting of ponies—even seeing other ponies out and about is a welcome change. Things have kinda evolved in the last year, haven’t they? You really don’t notice all that much staying inside, do you?”
                
“I knew you wouldn’t regret it!” Discord displayed a single-fanged grin. “Now let’s get you all liquored up so you’ll actually laugh at all my jokes for once!”
 

***


 

Arthur Mitchell wasn’t having the best of nights. Actually, if he wanted to get technical about it, his whole week hadn’t been all that great. Oddly enough, he found he could even trace the cause of his dismay to a particular day—a particular day a little over a year ago. A day forever labeled as “Pony Gate.” What was the world full of the day before “Pony Gate?” Not ponies, that’s for sure. Or at least no ponies that could talk and take the world by storm in less than a handful of hours, filling up newspapers and TV programs and bookstores and anything else you could think of.
                
So what was Arthur Mitchell’s problem again?
                
Oh, right. Ponies.

Ponies and their very existence in a world he thought they never should have come to.
                
In a dimly lit bar, Arthur sipped on his latest rum and Coke and turned to face his friend; a friend busily munching his way through his fifth handful of complimentary peanuts.
                
“Would you believe I used to like coming to this place?” Arthur said bitterly. “Used to be people got drunk while watching the home team lose; snacking on greasy crap while moaning about their love lives. You have any idea what’s taken over this place now?”
                
Arthur’s cohort, Robert Gray, split open another peanut to pop into his mouth, not once taking his eyes off the flat-screen above the bar.
                
“Ponies.” He didn’t even state it like a question.
                
Arthur shoved a finger into his face. “No, not ponies. Fucking ponies. As in fuck every last one of them.”
                
With a sigh, Robert rolled his eyes. “Are we really going to have this conversation again? If you don’t like ponies spending time in your bars, then stop going to those bars. Simple as that. Truth be told, this bar isn’t even that great. Just your average place on the drive home connected to some restaurant and grill. You don’t like it, then find another place to complain about your watery rum-and-Cokes.”
                
Perhaps, if Arthur had been on his first drink of the night, he might’ve let things go and changed the topic to something that didn’t infuriate him as much. But already on drink number—one, two, three, four—five… once the topic of ponies came to his mildly inebriated mind, he found he could barely keep himself from thinking about it.
                
Arthur painfully pinched the bridge of his nose. “But, Robert, that’s not the point. That’s not the point at all.” He huffed out angrily. “We were here first—humans were here first. And now look what’s happening. A restaurant with its own little pony corner? Its own little pony menu, too?”
                
Morosely, Robert finally pried his eyes from the overhead TV. “I still think you’re making a whole lot of something outta nothing, Arthur. When I walked in here, I saw… what? Six ponies altogether? Doing what? Eating dinner?” He feigned shock. “Oh, Christ! There goes the neighborhood! Ready those bomb shelters, lads, because this looks like the beginning of the end!”
                
In one long sip, Arthur polished off his latest drink and flagged the bartender down for the next.
                
While waiting for his order to come, he said, “Sure. It might start with six of them. But then what? Twelve? Twenty? Forty? Who’s to say this place doesn’t become the next big pony go-to place? Hundreds of ponies as far as the eye can see!”
                
His friend pursed his lips. “That actually sounds pretty cute.”
                
Slamming his palm against the edge of the bar, Arthur caused the bowl of peanuts close by to bounce.
                
“Fucking hell! They’ve gotten to you, too, haven’t they? Sure. Cute little colorful ponies. Wouldn’t hurt a fly, would they? Super nice. Always polite. And somehow none of that seems odd to you? That maybe, just maybe it all might be a plot of some kind? I mean, technically, they are aliens, right? Teleported here by some last minute pony wish or some shit. But who ever said aliens even need to look all that extraterrestrial? No E.T. bullshit. No Aliens horror crap. No. No! This time they’ve come as adorable little ponies with magical tramp stamps on their asses!”
                
Arthur loudly clapped his hands together. “First, they’ll lull us into a false sense of security, demanding equal rights and showing up on TV and on Ellen and all that crap and then BAM! Complete global annihilation! And all of that just because we thought all those pony fuckers were too damn cute to be planning such a thing. Who’s to say what’s really behind those big, creepy eyes of theirs?”
                
“Sprinkles and rainbows?” Robert suggested dryly, clearly not taking the subject as close to heart as he should. “Did you even read that Lazy Sombra book? It basically outlines everything that’s happened to them and why they ended up here. They’re just refugees, really. Escaped from some screwed up alternate dimension with monsters raining down from the sky. Sounded fucking terrible.”
                
With a fresh drink in hand, Arthur pulled up to the bar and settled down, scratching at his unshaven chin. “I might’ve flipped through that book the one time,” Arthur admitted, “but only the once. Got it as a stocking stuffer from the wife. She has her own copy and thought I’d want to give it a read someday. The next morning, I looked the thing up online, saw a couple reviews saying they thought it was funny.” He snorted. “If that crap is honestly someone’s idea of ‘funny,’ I really must be outta touch with the world of today.”
                
He took another pull from his drink.
                
“But that reminds me who I really should be placing the blame on for all this pony non-sense: Steve. Steve and that stupid pet pony of his.” He bawled a hand into a fist. “Man, if I could find that pony-loving dick—even just for a second—I’d clock him in the jaw so hard I’d send him to a third Equal-estria to mess with.”
                
“Equestria,” Robert corrected absently. “And I’m pretty sure if you somehow managed to first find Steve and then go on to punch him in the face, that pet pony of his would rip your arm off for it.”
                
Arthur grumbled in his throat. “Then I’d just punch him in the nose, too; I guess with whatever arm he didn’t chew through.” He sat up and stretched out his back, muscles still sore from the twelve hour shift he’d pulled before driving there. “Near the end of Lazy Sombra, you ever get that Lord of the Rings-type vibe?”
                
His friend cocked a brow at that. “You’re going to need to expand on that.”
                
“I mean, in the third Lord of the Rings movie, when Fido and that—”
                
“Frodo,” Robert dryly corrected again.
                
“Whatever. When Frodo and Sam are on that rock in the middle of all that lava and they’re all talking in whispers and shit and how they’re super-duper friends and all that… I just… I just remember sitting in the theatre about to shit my pants because a part of me half-expected them to start making out at any moment.”
                
Robert angled his head in his direction. “You were hoping to find a gay scene in the middle of Lord of the Rings?”
                
Arthur grimaced and took a hurried drink from his glass. “That’s not what I was getting at, actually. Just Steve and that stupid pony of his and how close they… oh, forget it. Just talking about that sarcastic asshole is making me madder than I already am.”
                
“Then how about you stop talking about ponies if it gets you so riled up. You started this conversation, remember?” Robert suggested, throwing another peanut into his mouth. “I, for one, really couldn’t care less about them. At my job, there’s this new pony starting pretty soon. I think you know how it is lately; how the company goes and gets a pony on board, hoping it makes them seem like a friendlier company or whatever. Anyways, what I’m thinking is, I’m gonna try and ask this new pony co-worker if they’ll come to my daughter’s birthday next month.”
                
Arthur furrowed his brows. “Why bother?”
                
Robert chuckled. “You kidding me? Kids have been flipping out over ponies lately—especially little girls around my daughter’s age. So if Daddy just so happened to bring his new pony friend over to meet her on her birthday? I think I’d be guaranteed that World’s Number One Father coffee mug come next Father’s Day.”
                
As the flat-screen above the bar changed to a news show, Arthur grumbled under his breath and drank what little liquid remained in his glass before raising his hand to signal to the bartender.
                
Only for someone else to come trotting over.
                
“Evening gents! How can I be of service tonight?” asked the wide-smiling unicorn clad in a black button-up vest. The horn poking through his carefully-gelled mane was wrapped in a silver aura, levitating in the air a stainless steel measuring cup and bottle of clear alcohol. “You want to hear about tonight’s specials? Friday means it’s—”
                
“I don’t care what Friday means,” Arthur cut him off thickly. “I just want another rum and Coke.”
                
The unicorn held onto his smile. “Coming right up!”
                
“No!” Arthur added more emphasis to his outburst by slamming his closed fist against the bar. He used that same hand to run through his disheveled hair. “What I meant,” he said much quieter, “is I want a rum and Coke from a bartender—a real bartender. Not some pony playing dress-up.”
                
The unicorn’s infectious grin started to droop around the edges, his ears flat against his head. “Well, sir, I actually am the bartender here. The last bartender’s shift ended a few minutes ago, and if it’s because you don’t think I have my license or something, I assure you, I do. I even passed at the top of my class.”
                
Arthur rolled his eyes dramatically. “Well, isn’t that just peachy, Mr… ?”
                
“Star Burst,” the unicorn answered with a nod.
                
“Star Burst? So… what? You’re part candy product?”
                
“Not that I know of,” he replied, slightly confused.
                
Robert waved a hurried hand between the pair. “Not to interrupt whatever’s going on here, but could I get one of those multi-colored drinks you have on special? You know, the one where you flip all the drinks around and pour them upside down and stuff?”
                
At once, the unicorn perked up from the request. “You mean the Sonic Jager-Boom?”
                
“Sure. Whatever.”
                
“Coming right up, my good sir!”
                
With his first order of the night in, the unicorn spun on his hooves and began gathering a rather long list of various colorful bottles and cups, half with his hooves and half with his horn. Once he had everything in place on the bar, he began spinning them in the air while adding a faint glow to each clear bottle.
                
Arthur angrily poked his friend in the side—the friend who was busily enjoying the magical juggling act in front of him.
                
“You knew this pony was gonna be here, didn’t you?”
                
“Of course,” Robert replied, chuckling like a child when the unicorn balanced a glass on the tip of his horn. “Everyone at work said Star Burst does the late shift on Fridays, so I figured I’d check him out. They said each specialty drink he makes takes anywhere from two to five minutes to make. Not too bad considering I think this drink alone costs almost twenty bucks.”
                
Jamming his thumbs into his eyes, Arthur exited his barstool and began furiously rubbing at both temples. “Fucking ponies, man…” he griped to himself. “Taking over one job at a time.”
                
“You say something?” Robert asked him from behind, half of his focus still on the alcoholic magic act before him.
                
Arthur shot him a look. “Yeah. I’m going to go get some air. Maybe see if I can get a normal drink from a normal person in this place.”
                
Then, trying his best to vacate the dimly lit bar without jamming his knee into a table, Arthur entered the much larger section of the restaurant with one very clear goal in mind:
                
To ruin some pony’s night.