When the knock on the door finally came, I almost choked on my mouthful of vodka and orange juice. I’d been waiting for the noise for so long, I’d nearly forgotten about it. As a thin smirk found my lips, I turned to my best friend Jessica on the couch to find her glaring at me with a rising blush on both cheeks.
“You didn’t,” Jessica questioned me sharply. “I told you not to, Denise. What was the one thing I asked you not to do for my bachelorette party?”
“Forget the ice?” I told her with a shrug. “Maybe it’s the pizza guy.”
“But we didn’t order any pizza.”
The person outside Jessica’s house knocked again—louder than before. “Listen up!” they barked out lowly. “This is the cops and you’re all under arrest! Or… whatever police officers usually do with unruly women on this planet!”
“You got me one of those fake dancing cops?” Jessica asked, as she smacked her forehead with her palm. “I’m not nearly drunk enough for something like that.”
Playfully, I nudged her drink closer to her face. “Then take a big gulp, Jess, because the hot and steamy show’s about to start!” I rose from the couch before adding lightly, “And it wasn’t like he cost a lot to hire anyways. I went with one of those cheaper companies. They told me he was new, too. Eager to work.”
“Great. Can’t wait,” Jessica spoke snidely, attempting to hide her faint smile behind her cup.
When I went to answer the door, the other half-dozen girls in the room quickly began buzzing like bees. Everyone besides Jessica had known I’d hired some “entertainment” for her special night. Now I only hoped they’d be worth all the trouble and the medium price tag involved.
“Sorry for keeping you waiting, officer!” I yelled, with my hand on the doorknob. “What seems to be the—”
My sentence ended prematurely as I opened the door to find a three-and-a-half foot tall pony dressed up outside in a small cop outfit.
The dark haired pony held a cue card in front of his face to read from. “Evening, host person. I am officer Sombra and have heard complaints about excessive noise in the neighborhood. Also of naughty women in need of strict and immediate discipline.”
I gulped dryly. Then I tried my best to conceal the costumed pony from the rest of the party. “Sure you have the right address… Sombra?”
Sombra glanced at the house’s mailbox and back at his cue card. “Yes. Completely sure. And it’s officer Sombra. I’m not wearing a fake plastic badge for nothing.”
Suddenly feeling a lot more sober than I was a minute ago, I pinched the bridge of my nose with a sigh. “Look… officer, I think someone’s made a terrible mistake here. When I requested someone for my friend’s party, I used the very specific words: tall, dark, and handsome. I also never used the word ‘pony’ a single time when speaking with your company.”
Sombra raised a mischievous brow at me. “But you also didn’t use the word ‘human’, did you?” He bared his sharp fangs. “And I believe I am the spitting image of tall, dark and handsome. Just take a look at my coat and mane! So dark! And mysterious, too!”
I shook my head at him. “But you’re hardly tall. You’re like half my height.”
“But I am tall compared to other ponies. I’m also in serious need of money right now.”
Officer Sombra wasted no time and hurriedly brushed passed me and inside the house—the faint murmuring in the living room dying the moment he stepped hoof in there.
“Greetings, horny older women!” Sombra greeted warmly, instantly gathering their attention. “I am tonight’s entertainment! So sit down, shut up, and pay attention right this instant!”
The ice in Jessica’s stare was enough to make me shiver on the spot. “Denise? Why is there a talking pony in a Halloween costume in my living room?”
“Umm…” I really had no good answer for that. “You see… there might’ve been a slight misunderstanding when I hired this guy.”
“Slight misunderstanding?” Jessica snapped. “If my fiancée ever hears about this—”
“Hold your tongue and prepare yourself!” Sombra loudly interrupted. “You are Jessica, are you not?”
Jessica’s grimace seemed to be answer enough.
“Good! Then I have you right where I want you! You demand a show, yes? A show full of debauchery and lust, yes? Then I am the stallion for the job—for I am not merely just some silly pony in a costume! I am actually a King of the highest caliber!”
With that said, Sombra used his horn to rip away his cheap police man’s outfit. What was underneath it might’ve been even worse than before.
Snap!
One of the other girls at the party snapped a picture of Sombra on her phone. I turned to her and furrowed my brows. “Seriously? You really want a picture of this?”
The girl shrugged and tucked her phone away. “What? Dancing pony dressed up like King Arthur? My Instagram followers will eat this crap up.”
On Sombra’s back was a blood red cape with a spotted white border. On his head was a thin metal crown that matched the style and look of his other glimmering bits of armor. All I could think about at the time was of those cheesy renaissance festivals I’d gone to as a kid.
Sombra narrowed his eerie red and green eyes at all the women in the room. “I have been instructed by my employer to inform you that you’ve all been very naughty and bad. Why if I were back in my old kingdom, I’d have you all hanged, drawn, and quartered just for being so terrible.” He took one last glance at his cue cards. “I’ve also been told that you all must keep your filthy hands to yourselves during tonight’s performance. I am not just a piece of delicious dark meat for you all to ogle at. Underneath this brooding exterior is a simple pony that only wants a normal life like anyone else—including complete and total control of the world alongside the mass extermination of all alicorns in existence. Having said that… let’s get to the part where I shake my hips in an inviting manner along to music.”
One of the other women at the party grabbed her handbag and rose from her chair.
“And just where do you think you’re going?” Sombra growled.
The woman tensed at once. “I was only… ponies aren’t really my thing, okay?”
“Not okay!” Sombra barked in return. “King Sombra should be everyone’s thing! Now take your seat and prepare to feast on the exceptional figure that is me!”
As the shaken partygoer regretfully returned to her seat, Sombra whirled around to retrieve an old CD player and speakers from the bag he’d brought with him. He used his horn to load a rather scratched-up CD into the machine.
I had to stop him there. “Did that CD say ‘Slayer’ on it?”
Sombra tipped me a wink before he pressed play. “Not just any Slayer. This is Reign In Blood. I know nothing gets my blood pumping more than songs about warm blood falling from the sky.”
Before I could utter another word in protest, the speakers of Sombra’s CD player exploded with the all consuming noise of heavy guitars and screaming vocals.
“Trapped in purgatory… a lifeless object… alive… awaiting reprisal!”
The song continued on unabated.
King Sombra—not to be confused with Officer Sombra by this point—wasted no time and immediately jumped into his dance routine in time with the hectic blaring music. If I had to call his style of dance anything, it would’ve been awkward and stiff. It was almost as if some lanky white guy with far too much charisma had been transformed into a pony and asked to dance. Which was also odd, considering just how dark Sombra appeared.
Shaking his head roughly from side to side, he soon lost his crown altogether and let his mane fly loose and wild. After that, he kicked out with all four of his hooves to let his smaller bits of armor tumble to the carpet below.
At least this ‘dance’ will be short, I thought brightly, when I came to the realization that Sombra was basically out of clothes to remove besides his cape.
Somehow, I should’ve seen it coming.
Even though Sombra only had on one last item of visible clothing, he still managed to spend the next ten minutes sluggishly peeling it off. What made matters worse was that hidden underneath each cape was only another cape a few inches smaller than the last.
“Behold!” Sombra bellowed, once he stripped away his last remaining tissue-sized cape. “My perfectly sculpted plot and posterior! Gasp at its beauty! Tremble at its power!”
Rather than do any of those things in the face of Sombra’s frantically shaking rump, my friend Jessica instead poured what remained of the party’s vodka bottle into her plastic cup and downed it in a hurry.
Thankfully, it was only a few minutes more before Sombra’s show came to a close—once he levitated a bucket full of water over his head to drench himself from head to hoof. Properly soaked, he stopped the music to catch his breath.
“There…” he said tiredly, “you are all now properly aroused. Now someone get me a towel and pay me my eighty five dollars.”
Beside me on the couch, Jessica took another pull from her mostly-vodka beverage and turned to me bitterly.
“You’re no longer one of my bridesmaids, Denise.”