Manticores, Crushes, and Alcohol

by Hidden Brony

Boast Busters

Streak sat down at his usual spot next to the obviously-drunk Change. “So I assume we’re not telling the showpony we’re here?” he asked.

“Don’t see why not,” Berry said. “She’s got bits, and she seems like a decent sort. Not quite modest, but she doesn’t seem like Gilda.”

“Alright,” he said.

“Were you at her show?” Derpy asked, walking up to the trio.

“I can’t say I was,” he replied. “Was it good?”

“It started off pretty average, actually,” she said. “Twilight is much better than she is, but Trixie is fairly talented. Then she opened challenges.”

“Basically an ‘anything you can do, I can do better’ thing?” Berry asked.

“Exactly so,” Derpy said, nodding. “Rainbow, Applejack, and Rarity all tried, but she made fools of all three of them.”

Streak’s face contorted into a scowl. Change spoke up, “Woah, tiger. Don’t you go confronting this Trixie gal for embarrassing your marefriend.” Derpy stopped breathing.

“She’s not my marefriend,” Streak muttered, setting his chin on the bar and flushing lightly. The mare let out a sigh of relief.

“Streak, you have a massive crush on her,” Berry said, making Derpy’s face fall. A fact not lost on the drunk.

“Do not!” Streak exclaimed, becoming bright red.

“Hey, Derpy,” Change said. “Let’s talk out back.”

“O. . . kay?” she said hesitantly.

“Don’t worry, it’s not one of those ‘out back’s,” he said. “I just want to talk in private.”

“You’ll be fine, Derpy,” Streak said when she hesitated. “He won’t do anything to you, he’s better than that.”

She stood up and walked out the back door with Change. He opened immediately with, “You like Streak.”

“Of course, we’re friends,” she said, faking dumb.

“No, you have a crush on him,” the drunk said. She opened her mouth to reply. “Don’t try and deny it, Derpy. You do, and if anypony looks, they’ll see it.”

“Okay, fine,” she grumbled. “I do. He’s a nice stallion. He’s polite, kind, and knows just how to talk with ponies. He even got a positive opinion out of Fluttershy that wasn’t ‘He’s nice.’ “

“He’s also clueless,” the stallion said. “Give him some time, and he’ll see that you like him.”

“Should I even listen to you?” she asked. “You’re drunk.”

“So I am,” Change replied. “I’m also living with him. Trust me when I say that I know he’ll like you. You just have to give it some time. He waits for you and watches to make sure you’re okay every day. You’re already part of the way there.”

“Alright,” she said. “I just wish it would be now.”

“We all do, Derpy, we all do.”

Inside the bar, Streak was having a serious conversation with Berry. “So I hear you’ve made quite the impression around town, Streak,” she was saying.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“With the mares, I mean,” she said, smirking.

“Please,” he said, rolling his eyes. “The biggest impression I left was on the road with my face. I’m pretty sure ninety-nine percent of the town doesn’t even know I exist.”

“But you have impressed that one percent,” she said. “I’ve heard ponies talking about how Rarity, Fluttershy, and Derpy never seem to stop talking about your latest misadventure. Half the ponies in the bar right now have told me about you headbutting the road, and only about four of them heard it from Rainbow making fun of you.”

“Good to see I’ve made such a positive impression,” he deadpanned. “I think anypony would be noticed for smacking their face into the ground on purpose.”

“I think you’re missing the point of what I’m trying to tell you,” Berry deadpanned right back.

“Enlighten me, then,” Streak said.

“If you don’t get it, I’m not telling you,” she said. “You’ll just have to learn it for yourself. I swear you can be so clueless, at times.”

“You aren’t seriously making fun of me for not understanding then not telling me, are you?” he asked. “That hardly seems fair.”

“That’s life,” the barmare said. “You have to open your eyes eventually, Streak. When you do, you’ll thank me for not forcing them open for you.”

“Whatever,” Streak grumbled. He looked at the clock. Ten o’clock. “Bout time for me to get going,” he said, hopping off the stool. “Watch Derpy for me, would you? It’s unusual for her to be in here so late.”

“Alright,” Berry sighed. “See you later, blind boy.”

Streak scoffed as he left the bar. What was Berry talking about, back there? Maybe he’d ask Rarity tomorrow, she knew about stuff like this, right?

His musing was interrupted by the ground shaking. “I swear to Celestia,” he groaned, forgetting what he was thinking, “if this is another creature straight out of the Everfree. . . .” He turned to see a monster straight out of a bunny’s nightmares. A translucent blue bear the size of a house was chasing two of the local foals screaming down the road. “I’m just going to head to bed,” he muttered as he turned to follow the duo.

“Hey guys, where ya goin’?” he heard Spike ask.

“Can't talk now,” one of the foals said.

“Got a major problem!” the other one finished.

“Yeah, ursa major, to be exact,” the first foal said.

“Huh?” Spike asked. The ursa took this moment to make itself known by roaring.

“Trixie!” the foals yelled in unison, running farther into town.

“Twilight!” Spike yelled, running in the other direction, straight towards Twilight’s library.

“Those foals, I swear,” Streak said, rolling his eyes. “This can only end well. I’ll ask about it in the morning.” With another roar, the ursa erased any thoughts of ignoring today’s chaos by mauling the roof of Derpy’s house. “Dinky!” he exclaimed. Without conscious thought, Streak’s legs started running.

When he arrived, he ignored the showmare’s pitiful attempts to contain the ursa, knowing Twilight was on her way. He instead ran through the unlocked door to the grey mare’s house. He took the stairs three at a time in his haste to get upstairs. He sighed in relief when he saw a confused—but unharmed—Dinky looking at a gaping hole in her roof. “You’re okay,” he said.

“Fine,” she said. “I was downstairs waiting for Mom when I felt shaking and heard. . . well, this.”

The ground was littered with debris and dusted with hay from the demolished roof. The remnants of what was most likely a bed sat under a large beam of wood that used to be the peak of the roof. “That could have been bad,” Streak said. “Whose bed was that?”

“Mine,” she said. “Good thing I wasn’t in it, right?”

“Very good thing,” the older blank said, stunned. “I can think of many ponies who would be unhappy that you were in there, not the least of all your mother.”

“Good thing she’s been out later and later,” Dinky mumbled. “At least something good came of it.”

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“She used to be home every day by seven, but now she’s regularly out to eight, and some days—like today—she’s out ‘til ten.”

“I’ll talk with her,” Streak promised.

She shuffled her hooves nervously before saying, “Could you talk to her about maybe starting work later so she can walk me to school?”

“Of course,” he said. “I’m sure she’ll do her best.”

That got a smile out of the filly. “Thanks, Mister Streak!” she exclaimed.

“We’re friends, Dinky,” he said, chuckling. “You can drop the ‘mister’ stuff.”

“Okay, Streak,” she said, smile widening.

“Come on, Dinky,” he said. “Let’s go see your mom.”

“But isn’t she at the bar?” she asked. “Isn’t the bar reserved for older ponies?”

“I think Berry will make an exception for you this time,” he said. “She’s cool like that.” The duo walked back in companionable silence, except for a break for Dinky to giggle at how ridiculous Spike looked with a mustache.

“Silly Spike,” she said through her giggles as they walked away from the baby dragon. “Dragons don’t have mustaches.”

—*~*~*—

"Today is the day!" Change exclaimed as Streak walked into the bar.

". . . What day?" the confused Streak asked. "Did I miss somepony's birthday?"

"Nope," the drunk said. "Today is the day you finally drink."

Streak gave a long-suffering sigh. "Fine," he said, "just be warned that I've been told that I'm not a fun drunk."

"When did you drink?" Berry asked. "You've been holding out on me, kid."

"Years ago, back during my school days," he said with a dismissive wave of his hoof.

"A partier, eh?" Change asked. "This will be more fun than I thought we would."

"I haven't drunk in five years," the blank said. "I'm not going to last long."

"Long enough," Berry said. "Change had a bright idea, and I'm not sure that the bar will survive."

The drunk waved a hoof in a clearly dismissive manner. "Just put the repairs on my tab."

"What was the idea?" Streak asked. Before somepony could reply, the door opened.

"PAR-TAY!" Pinkie yelled, walking into the bar.

"You didn't," Streak said, shaking his head in disbelief.

"Pinkie said you wanted to see us?" Twilight asked as she walked in.

"You did," Streak deadpanned.

"I hope there arent too many. . . Eep!" Fluttershy locked up as she entered the room.

"You really did," Streak deadpanned again.

"Fluttershy, darling," Rarity said, pushing Fluttershy fully into the bar and entering herself, "you can't just stop in the middle of the doorway with ponies behind you."

"I can't believe you," the blank said, turning to the drunk and the barmare. "How did you think this was a good idea?"

"Ah hear there's a stallion in need of being shown the ropes," Applejack commented as she stepped through the doorway.

"We can always give it a try, though," he added quickly, much to the amusement of the duo next to him.

"I was promised drinks," an all too familiar voice said as the pony it was attached to walked into the bar at the back of the group.

At the sight of Rainbow Dash, Streak stood up and wordlessly started to walk for the back door. He was stopped by a teal glow around his exit, blocking his exit. He turned around to see Change glaring at him. "I worked hard to get her to show up with you here, so you are staying. You don’t have to like her, but you have to tolerate her for one night. You owe me."

There was a tense pause as the ponies around the two held their breaths. “Fine,” the blank huffed, causing a collective sigh of relief to wash over the ponies in the immediate area. “Don’t expect me to like it.”

“I don’t, I expect you to deal with it,” the drunk said. “Now sit down, grab a real drink, and at least pretend to have fun, alright?”

“Do more than pretend!” Pinkie bounced up. “Actually do!”

“I’ll try,” Streak said. “I’ve never really had fun drinking, though.”

“ ‘Cause you haven’t done it with me,” Change said, smirking. “Now sit at your seat. Berry, we’ll start him off with something easy, like rum.”

“Change, my rum is seventy proof,” the barmare said, shaking her head. “He’ll get smashed instantly. I’ll just get him a cider, start him with baby steps.”

The drunk scoffed as the two stallions sat down at the bar. “Amateurs.”

“Seventy proof?” Streak asked. “Geez, we didn’t touch alcohol unless it was at least eighty. Waste of bits, we said.”

“Are you a recovering alcoholic?” Pinkie asked suddenly.

“No?” he said hesitantly. “Why?”

“We’ll just give the kid some cider, and see how well he handles it,” Berry interrupted before Pinkie could answer. “It’s better than starting with vodka, like Change is fond of.” She whirled on the drunk. “Vodka is made to be mixed, so it’s tasteless. A fact he seems all too happy to forget.”

“This is going to be an interesting night,” Twilight said. “I don’t think most of us have drank before.”

Fluttershy just whimpered.

—*~*~*—

Streak woke up to feel something pressed into his chest. He opened his eyes and immediately regretted his decision. He hissed as the light scorched his sensitive retinas, slamming his eyelids closed and whipping up his right foreleg to further stymie the brutal sunlight’s attempts at breaching his eyelids.

Wait, sunlight?

He hissed as he again opened his eyes, having to force himself to keep his eyes open to look around. Whispy clouds drifting across the sky met him on that morning, and beyond the bright ball of death beating him down with waves of agony from behind the clouds, there was nothing else to see.

A light moan and an increase to the pressure in his side brought his attention down away from the agonizing ball of fire hanging above him to the relatively painless surroundings. When he looked down at what was pressed into his right side, if it weren’t for the skull-shattering headache he was experiencing, he would have lost it.

A cyan pegasus was snuggled against his side, and the shift in pressure was her snuggling closer to him in her sleep. Her prismatic hair was spread across his chest as far as it could get at the length she kept it at, and she was using his chest as a pillow.

In a moment of horror, he realized that she was on his right side, therefore he had to be cuddling her back—at least a little—to be able to move his right foreleg.

He swiftly extracted himself by means of shoving the mare away. She slid just far enough for the blank to escape her grasping hooves, seeking the comfortable warmness that was her Streak pillow.

He shivered and repressed the bile he felt rise in his throat—not completely caused by his hangover—as he got up on his shaky hooves as quickly as he could. He had to stop himself after his first staggering step when he realized that he was standing on a massive building-sized pile of hay.

He looked around in confusion. Where was there a pile of hay this large? Who had decided to make a pile of hay this large in the middle of Ponyville overnight? He was even with the tops of the houses around him, for Celestia’s sake! Wait.

He took a shaky step forward down the slope. The slope that way to even to be any pile of hay. Within seconds, he saw a drop straight down where the hay ended. He had ended up on a roof cuddling with Rainbow Dash. He was never drinking again.

“How do I get down without hurting myself?” he mused silently out loud, wincing as a nearby bird decided it needed to make some noise. He heard Rainbow start stirring behind him. She groaned as she opened her eyes and rolled over, shoving her face into the hay. “How do I get down fast without hurting myself too much?” he amended.

“Not so loud,” her muffled groan called out. “I feel like I had a Pinkie party in my head last night.”

“It could very well have been,” Streak muttered, closing his eyes and laying down.

There was a pregnant pause before she asked, “Streak?”

“Yep,” he said.

She pulled her head out of the hay. “Where in Ponyville is there a hay pile?” she asked.

“On the tops of houses,” he replied. “That’s where we are.”

“What happened last night?” she asked.

“I don’t even want to know,” the blank groaned. “I just want to get off this roof and forget last night even happened.”

“I’ll make you a deal,” she said. “I won’t speak of it if you don’t.”

“Deal,” he said, opening his eyes and extending his hoof at her as far as he could reach. She stretched and bumped his hoof with her own. “Now how do we get down?”

“I have wings,” she said. “When I can move without feeling like I got tackled by a griffon hoofball player I’ll just fly us down.”

“That works, I guess,” he muttered.

After a few minutes, Rainbow spoke up, “Hey, Streak?”

“Can you fly us down?” he asked bluntly.

“No, but—” she started.

“Then I don’t want to hear it,” he said. “I don’t like you, you don’t like me. The only way we’re both getting off the roof alive is if we don’t talk.”

“I was going to thank you for not talking about this, but now I might just leave you up here on your own,” she grumbled.

“I’m doing this for me, just as I assume you’re doing this for you. If I wouldn’t be mixed in with you in every rumor for the next few weeks, I would be telling this as soon as I got down,” the blank said.

Rainbow snorted, “I was pretending to be nice.”

“It works better when your target doesn’t hate you,” he said. “And vice versa.”

“You make a good point,” she said. After a few minutes, she spoke up, “I think I’m ready. You feeling better?”

“No,” Streak said.

“Good,” she said, grinning maliciously. She launched herself through the air and tackled him off the roof. During freefall, his head was filled with many scenarios where he strangled Rainbow when they got down. Right as he was about to impact the ground, he felt himself jerk upwards. He was twirled through the air, causing his bile to rise again, before being planted onto the ground hoof-first.

“Don’t do that again,” he growled at the giggling flier.

“If I ever have the opportunity, I most definitely will,” she replied. “Smell you later!”

Streak shook his head as she took off, choosing to just drop it. He walked through town slowly and with deliberate steps, careful not to exacerbate his headache any more than he had to. He got some odd stares, but otherwise his trip was ordinary.

“Have fun last night?” Change asked, smirking, as the younger stallion walked into their shared house.

“Shut up,” he groaned. “Headache.”

“How much do you remember from last night?” the drunk asked.

“Fluttershy whimpering,” the blank replied honestly. “Beyond that, I got nothing.” A moment of silence passed between the two stallions before Streak clarified. “Before we started drinking.”

“Just making sure,” Change said.

“Bull,” the younger stallion said.

“Applejack wouldn’t tolerate that language,” the drunk said.

Streak flushed bright red. “Applejack isn’t here,” he said.

“And what misfortune that is,” Change chuckled grabbing a bottle with his magic. “I’ll be in my room drunk when Berry comes by to pick me up.”

Streak cocked an eyebrow. “You going on a date?”

“For work,” the drunk deadpanned. “She’s picking me up for work.”

“Sure,” the blank said, “I believe you.”

“Seriously,” the drunk said.

“Seriously,” Streak replied.

“You seriously don’t remember last night?” Change asked.

“Nope,” the other stallion replied.

“At all?” the drunk asked.

“Not a bit,” Streak clarified.

“Good,” Change said, grinning maliciously. “I won’t tell you which pony you were making out with, then.”

“I was what?” Streak said more than asked.

“Making out with a pony,” Change said. “We were all smashed at that point, so you might have gotten lucky and nopony but me remembers it. Most likely one of the girls remembers, and you’re in for a fun few weeks.”

“Great,” the blank sighed, laying down on the couch and stretching. “Can it get any worse?”

“You left the bar with Rainbow,” the older stallion piped up. “Where did you end up, anyway?”

“Not talking about it,” Streak said.

Author's Note:

Happy Thanksgiving. Bringing this one to ya. I've got one more in the pipes, and I'll probably post it on Sunday.

-HB