Abstract Helps Kyo Date Gilda

by AbstractThought

Chapter 12-A Dweeb's Dinner

Thank Celestia! Our suitcases were still where I left them! The cowboy from earlier seemed to have lost interest, though, as he wasn’t there anymore. Oh well, at least he didn’t steal our stuff.

As I landed next to my suitcase, I heard my beloved ask, “Hey, what are you doing?”

“Getting our lunch,” I replied matter-of-factly as I dug around in my suitcase for the plastic food containers.

“Wait, you mean it’s not fresh?” Gilda snapped.

“No, but I did my best to prepare it to perfection!” I assured her, showing the containers and the food inside them as proof. “Plus, these containers are refrigerated and hermetically sealed, so the food is still as fresh as it was the day I cooked it!”

Gilda narrowed her eyes and peered into the clear container that held the steak. Eventually she shrugged and decided, “Eh, as long as you’ve got meat. So, where are we gonna chow down?”

Oops. Didn’t think of that.

“Uhh…” My eyes quickly roamed the town, searching for the one building guaranteed to be in any self-respecting cowpony town that would be the perfect venue for our lunch date.

“Ooh look, a saloon!” I pointed at a building that looked a whole lot like the one in that Western movie I remember watching ages ago. Seriously, it’s like the builders went out of their way to make Appleloosa look like every Western movie town ever. “I’m sure they’d be willing to let us eat there! Look good to you?”

“I guess," she said with a shrug.

“Alright, let’s go!” With that, I flew over to the saloon with our food and drink in tow. I peered over the saloon doors and saw that the place was empty except for a stallion behind the bar. Perfect, we’d have some privacy for our little date! I flew through the swinging doors and cried, “Howdy, my good man, I’m here for – ah!” I noticed too late that I had gotten my tail caught in the swinging doors after they swung back, causing me to stumble forward and drop the containers and soda bottle I was holding. “Oh, ponyfeathers!”

“Ugh! You dropped the food?!” I heard Gilda screech from behind me.

“No no no, it’s okay!” I stammered as I rushed to pick up the containers I dropped, which were thankfully still sealed tight. “See? Nothing spilled! The food’s still good! We can still eat, right?” I gave Gilda a pleading smile.

Gilda stared at me a moment, and then said, “Whatever.” Oh, she has such a way with words!

“Alright, let’s eat!” With that, I put the containers and bottle on a table near the window. “Hold on, I’m gonna try and get some plates and utensils.”

“Okay,” Gilda responded, “while you do that, I’m gonna go take a leak.” She then turned to the stallion at the bar and shouted, “Hey, barkeep! Where’s the bathroom?”

The barkeep turned his attention away from a bottle he was holding and answered, “Er, there’s an outhouse jus’ outside.”

Gilda sighed and walked outside, grumbling something under her breath. Ooh, to think that I’ll be able to use a toilet that Gilda just used! That’s not creepy, is it? Eh, moving on.

It occurred to me that Gilda might not like the meat if it wasn’t warmed up, so I put the steak container on my back and walked over to the barkeep. “Excuse me,” I asked him, “do you have any plates and utensils my lady and I can borrow?”

“Mm-hmm, there’s some in the kitchen in the back,” the barkeep said as he poured some of the liquid in a bottle into a nearby bucket.

“Cool, thanks!” I replied. “And, uh, just out of curiosity, you have a stove back there, right?”

“Mm-hmm,” he answered, pouring part of another bottle into the bucket. “An’ if you burn down my saloon with it, yer payin’ for it, in bits and beatin’s.”

I gulped loudly at that overhanging threat. I knew neither my body nor my bank account could take that kind of damage. “I hear ya loud and clear,” I responded with a nervous smile. I walked to the nearby doorway in the back and entered the kitchen, which had most of the various kitchen you’d expect, except more old-timey and no refrigerator. Oh, and the stove looked different than any I’ve used before. That could be a bit of a problem.

“Hey, uh, saloon guy!” I called as I turned over the steak container and plopped the meat on the oven. “How does this thing work?”

I heard the guy swear something Western-y in the other room, then he walked in and barked, “Fer land’s sake, what’re ya doin’, messin’ with my stove?!”

“Sorry, I just need to warm something up for my date with Gilda!” I informed him. “It shouldn’t take too long.”

“Jus’ what is so gol-dang important that…” His words trailed away as he saw what was on the stove.

“Okay, I know this looks bad…” I began.

“GAAH!” The barkeep stumbled away and galloped out of the store, shouting, “HELP! CANNIBAL!”

…Well, that could have gone better. I didn’t want to risk burning the place down, so it looks like we were having cold steak for lunch. Well, lukewarm steak, considering it’s been out of the fridge for about a day.

Oh well, at least it wasn’t too hard finding the plates and utensils. Hopefully lunch would go more smoothly.

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“Lunch is served!” I announced as Gilda walked back into the saloon. I had the table all set up, with plates, forks, knives, napkins, glasses, all that jazz. I would have added a small vase of flowers if we weren’t in the middle of a nearly barren desert. And if the saloon had a vase. Eh, beggars can’t be choosers.

“What’s up with the barkeep?” she asked me. “He’s freaking out over some cannibal or something?”

“Meh, cowponies are weird,” I said with a dismissive wave of my hoof. I then pulled her chair back and said, “After you, my lady.”

Gilda grunted and sat down without a word. Normally I’d complain about not getting so much as a thank-you, but considering it was Gilda, a griffon who was too cool to be polite, I was willing to let it slide. After pouring some soda into both our glasses, I sat down in my chair and declared, “Alright, let’s dig in!”

“You don’t have to tell me twice!” Gilda squawked before she picked up the steak with her claws and gobbled it down ravenously. Wow, griffons sure do love their meat. You’d think she was starving to death from the way she attacked that steak. I stared in awe and disgust (at the meat, not Gilda), too mesmerized to eat anything myself. I decided to break the ice with, “So…good steak?”

“Oh, you have no idea how long it’s been since I’ve had cooked meat!” Gilda gushed as she tore through her steak. “You wouldn’t believe how uptight ponies are about eating other animals!”

“Heh, yeah,” I scoffed with a nervous grin. “Ponies are the worst.”

Gilda chuckled at that, which got me grinning more giddily. “You’re the first pony I’ve ever met who’s okay with meat! That automatically makes you cool!”

Gilda called me cool?! If this is a dream, I thought, please don’t let me wake up.

“Heh, well, ya know,” I stammered, a blush growing on my face. “It’s no big deal, anything for my love, I mean, ah, coolest creature ever!”

Gilda finished most of the steak before placing the rest of it on her plate, leaning back on her chair, and giving a great big burp. Dang, I wish I could burp like her. “Ugh, it doesn’t taste so good the second time around,” she groaned. “You sure you cooked this right?”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure I did,” I replied. “I followed the instructions, at least.”

“Eh, it’s okay, I guess,” Gilda relented. “You are a pony; it makes sense that you wouldn’t be so hot with cooking meat. Still better than anything I’ve had in ages, though.”

“Thanks!” I beamed. “I do my best.”

“Here.” Gilda pushed her plate to me. “It’s your steak; you might as well try some.”

I could feel my face grow pale. It was hard enough for me to cook a piece of animal; eating one was a different story. “Eh-heh, thanks for the offer,” I said awkwardly, “but, well, I made this steak for you, you should have the whole thing.”

“Hey, what kind of griffon would I be if I didn’t share?” Gilda insisted. “Besides, I kinda feel like having some potatoes now.” She grabbed a potato from the container and took a bite from it. “C’mon, tick a bit,” she mumbled through a mouth full of potato.

Sheesh, Gilda had to pick the worst time to be extra nice. She’s lucky she’s so perfect in every way. Well, it looks like I’m gonna be a cannibal after all.

“Okay, uh, I might as well have a…little bite.” Anxiously, I grabbed my fork and knife and cut off a little piece of steak. I raised the steak to my muzzle and paused as the scent of meat entered my nostrils. Oh, Celestia, why?! “Alright.” I gulped nervously. “Bottoms up!” With that, I opened my mouth and slowly moved my fork closer until I could feel the piece of meat pass between my lips. Steeling myself as best I could, I closed my mouth and took a hesitant bite.

Alright, so I, an herbivore, have just eaten a piece of another animal. Now, I don’t want you to freak out about what I have to say next: it tasted awesome. I know, it was totally sick and disgusting and I’ll never cook another piece of meat as long as I live (unless Gilda convinces me otherwise), but I just couldn’t help myself! It was so unlike anything I’ve had before, and it got my taste buds all excited and ready to party…or something. Anyway, that’s why I ended up chowing down like a maniac on the rest of the steak. Yep, I’m a monster now. Or a griffon. Either way, I’m no longer the cute and cuddly pony I used to be.

Gilda stopped eating and gave an impressed whistle through her beak. “Dang! I thought you were just faking your love of meat, but it looks like you’re the real deal!”

I took a big swig of soda to calm the queasiness I felt in my stomach and boasted, “Hey, I’m Kyo Kusagani! I’m the reigning Street Brawler champ back home! You better believe I’m the real deal!” I pounded a hoof on the table and unleashed a mighty burp of my own. Okay, my burp was kinda puny compared to hers, but hey, it felt mighty.

Gilda laughed at my display of bravado, hopefully more out of respect than mockery. “Hey, that reminds me,” she asked as I grabbed a potato of my own. “What’s the deal with your name? Kyo Whateveryousaid?”

“Kusagani.”

“Whatever.”

“Well, believe it or not, there’s quite a bit of history behind my name.” I took a big bite of potato and washed it down with some soda before I continued. “You ever hear of the legend of the Kusanagi blade?”

“Can’t say I have,” Gilda replied.

“Well, it’s an old Neighponese legend about a sword that could control the wind,” I explained. “According to legend, an eight-headed serpent was ravaging the land and had eaten all of a family’s daughters except for one. A god named Susaphone agreed to help the daughter slay the serpent in exchange for her hoof in marriage. She accepted, and after he slayed the beast, he discovered a mysterious blade in one of the serpent’s tails. Generations later, this blade was given as a gift to the great warrior Yamato Stew. He discovered the sword’s wind-controlling powers when trying to cut some grass that have been set on fire by foes he was fighting. Thus, he dubbed the sword Kusanagi-no-Tsurugi, or the “Grass Cutting Sword.” Not the most badass nickname, admittedly, but it sure sounds cool in Neighponese!”

Gilda had finished her potato by that point and was now licking her claws. “Hmm, that’s not a bad story,” Gilda admitted. “So you’re saying you’re a descendant of the warrior you mentioned?”

“Well, not exactly,” I continued, awkwardly rubbing the back of my neck. “I’m actually a descendant of a guy who made a knockoff sword called the Kusagani blade. He sold it to a royal family and got filthy rich, at least until his scam was exposed when the prince used the sword in battle and got killed when it failed to control so much as a breeze. The guy had to leave the country when he was found out, and he eventually made it to Equestria, where he was able to live peacefully without being identified for his scam.” I cleared my throat and finished my glass of soda. “So yeah, that’s where my last name comes from.”

“Let me get this straight,” Gilda inquired with a raised eyebrow. “You’re named after a fake version of a legendary sword made by some conman who’s related to you?”

“I know, not the best thing to be named after…” I began sheepishly.

My words were interrupted by Gilda guffawing and slapping a talon on the table. “Haha, I love it! I wish I’d thought of a scam like that!”

“Heh, thanks!” I replied with a grin. Wow, Gilda was the first person who reacted so positively to that part of the story! Everyone else I had told it to found it a bit of a letdown. Guess Gilda prefers bad boys to heroes. Duly noted.

“Say, maybe you help me come up with a scam,” Gilda suggested with a smirk. “You know, cause you might have inherited some of your ancestor’s conning skills.”

“Gee, I’m flattered,” I answered, a blush growing on my face. “I’d love to help you out, but sadly, the last time I tried to con someone was when I cheated on a math test, and, well, that didn’t go so well.”

“I see,” Gilda said coolly.

Oh, ponyfeathers, I’m losing her! I need to get on her sweet side fast! I quickly grabbed the tin I had brought, pulled off the lid, and burst out, “Hey, here’s some vanilla lemon drops, your favorite!”

“Aw, sweet!” Gilda cried before grabbing a bunch of drops from the tin. She had brought one to her mouth when she stopped short and asked suspiciously, “Hey, how did you know vanilla lemon drops are my favorite? Have you been stalking me?”

“What?! No, of course not!” I exclaimed. “What do I look like, some kind of obsessed creep?” Uh, don’t answer that, I wanted to add, but I was afraid that’d just land me in hotter water, and I certainly didn’t need to get any hotter while I was in the middle of a freakin’ desert. “No, it was just, uh, a lucky guess! I really like them, and I was hoping you would too!”

Gilda scowled at me for a long moment before she decided, “Just don’t give me any reason to think you know anything…personal, if you get my drift. You got that?”

“O-of course!” I assured her. “I can totally respect your privacy!” Sheesh, why is my stomach so queasy? I quickly grabbed some vanilla lemon drops and stuffed them in my mouth. “So, ho’d yo mit Trishie?” I asked her with my mouth full.

“How’d I meet Trixie?” Gilda parroted. After a nod from me, she explained, “Well, a couple of months ago, I was chilling at a bar and happened to sit next to her while I ordered my drink. I got annoyed by her being all melodramatic, so I told her to knock it off. She didn’t take that well, and we got into an argument. Before things could get nasty, she happened to mention that she had been humiliated thanks to an insufferable pony earlier. That got me to mention that something similar had happened to me, and next thing you know, we’re bonding over the ponies that screwed us over.”

“Wow, that sounds like an interesting way to start a friendship,” I remarked.

“Heh, no kidding. So after a night of drinking and hanging out, we decided to travel together and…” Gilda suddenly groaned and put a talon to her stomach. “Ugh, are you sure nothing’s wrong with the meat you cooked?”

“Yes, I’m sure!” I insisted. “It was fresh when I got it, and I’ve kept it fresh for over a year!”

“A year?!” Gilda snapped. “You idiot! You’re not supposed to keep meat that long! Otherwise it’ll go…bad…” Gilda pressed her talons onto her beak and flew like a dash outside. A couple of seconds later, I could hear the sounds of retching outside. Well, f-word.

“…Gilda?” I called. “You doing alright?”

“What do you think?!” Gilda barked from outside before going back to throwing up.

“Just checking!” I shouted back. A second later, I felt the need to upchuck too. I rushed outside and headed to the outhouse where I could see Gilda’s awesome rump sticking out. “Make way!” I yelled as I flew up to the toilet and lost my lunch inside it.

Yep, I’m definitely never cooking meat again.

End of Part 12

Comments

[spetsnaz pinkie pie]

Please forgive him Gilda, for he knows not we he had done.

Damn I wrote that like it was out of that piece of crap bible.