Apples Wild

by niftykoala

Sweet Cream's Saloon

The piano player wrestled a tune out of the slightly shot up upright piano. Scarlet Aria, a dark peach Pegasus with a flowing brown mane, sang along perfectly, as she passed amongst the patrons lost in game or libations. The Music and singing filled the room as the nightly regulars went about their usual at Sweet Cream’s Saloon.

“That there’s a load of diamond dog feathers and you know it,” Boxcars flopped down his cards responding to the statement that had been made by the earth pony sitting in the shadows in the far corner of the saloon. “Big Red’s just a legend out of the Badlands. He’s just as real as the campfire stories about Tartarus’ Ghost ponies in the Sky.”

The stallion in the shadows titled his head up slightly and spun his shot glass slowly. “Oh he’s real all right.” He nodded his head towards the long wooden bar counter, “Just ask Miss Sweet Cream.”

“Don’t bring me into this hun,” the smart looking tan unicorn mare behind the counter laughed. “I’m not going to take sides when a couple of whiskey salted would be broncs start runnin’ their mouths off.”

The pony in the shadows titled his hat slightly and feigned a wounded tone. “I’m hurt Miss Cream.” His air brightened. “Ask the folks in Dodge City and the townships near the Badlands if they think Big Red is real.”

Boxcars took a quick swig of his salt n malt. “Pony’s will say anything to out of towners if they think it’ll make their town a few extra bits on the side.” He leveled his hoof at the still shadowed stallion. ”But what makes YOU so sure that he’s real?”

The shadowed pony drank his shot and flipped it expertly down on the table. Smoothly he replied, “Cause I know the pony who's ran with him.”

Abruptly…the piano player stopped playing.