The Peripheral Tragedies of Lickety Split

by Neon Czolgosz

Hubris

Rumble was here and everything would be okay.

Lickety Split threw himself onto the pegasus, wrapping his forehooves tight around him as if to make sure he was really there, burying his face into his lover’s muscular neck. Rumble practically carried him upstairs to the bedroom, and sat him on the bed.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” he asked. Lickety realised he’d been holding in tears, that he was on the edge of a breakdown, and that this was the perfect time to step over that edge. He collapsed, sobbing, into Rumble’s hooves.

“—everything’s gone wrong Golden Grains is going to be here in hours and there’s a party that I just can’t handle right now and a drug lab in my kitchen and I think there are heroin addicts in the spare room and oh Celestia I just don’t know what to do.”

“Come on, let it out,” whispered Rumble. He nuzzled Lickety, kissing away his tears. He always knew how to calm him down.

Rumble draped a blanket over him, kissed him on the lips, then left the room. He returned moments later with a glass of water from the bathroom, which Lickety drank down gratefully.

“Tell me what’s going on and we can make it better,” he said.

Lickety explained everything that had happened.

“Okay,” said Rumble, “I get you. You want me to kick them all out?”

Lickety smiled as warm, fuzzy feelings rose through him. Rumble would kick them out, he knew, even if he had to drag them out by their tails to do so. But still, he had to shake his head.

“No, we can’t do that. I owe Dinky a lot for this house, and I don’t think moving her would be safe for anypony involved right now. I don’t wanna stop the party because Mr Rich’s daughter is here, and you know what she’s like.”

Rumble considered this for a moment, and then said “How about this: We both make sure the party doesn’t get too crazy until it winds down at two in the morning. Then, we say everyone has to leave, and that nopony is sleeping over. I’ll get Pipsqueak to offer his place, so there won’t be any trouble.”

Lickety gave him a little grin. “Pipsqueak owes you a favor?”

“Nah, Pipsqueak owes you a favor for being an ass, more than once. I’m just going to remind him. Gently, gently!” he said at Lickety’s dark look. “He can take the musicians while he’s at it. As for Dinky... We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it, huh?”

Lickety nodded, and cuddled back in to Rumble.

“And whatever happens, we will make sure that it gets cleaned up. This cottage will look perfect before the mare of your dreams steps hoof in it.”

Lickety blushed. “She’s not competition for you, or anything...”

Rumble burst out laughing, and kissed him on the cheek. “Babe, you don’t even need to say that. You’re the gayest pony I’ve ever met. Vaginas make you visibly uncomfortable.”

“They look like sad clowns...” he mumbled.

“But you really admire her and want her to like you, yeah? She’s like Spitfire is to me, right?”

“Yeah...”

“Exactly. So we’ll make it awesome and everything will be awesome.”

“Yeah.”

“So whaddya say you come downstairs with your impossibly handsome boyfriend, and we enjoy the party together for a while, huh?”

“Yeah! Let’s do that!”

Downstairs, the party was in full swing. Ponies played drinking-twister (twister where if it was your turn, you had to drink!), grinding against each other in the living-room-turned-dancehall, making out in dark corners, smoking clover on the couches.

After half an hour of dancing, Rumble and Lickety Split were dripping with sweat and in need of a drink. They left the dancers and headed over to the keg. Apple Bloom was doling out cups.

“You ain’t charging for this?” asked Rumble.

“Nah,” she replied, “Pipsqueak paid in advance.”

“Ah, that’s cool—”

Before he could say another word, Diamond Tiara stumbled into him. “Hey dickhoof, watch where—heeeeeey Rumble, how are you doing tonight?”

“Yeah I’m good thanks,” he said, tensing up as the mare climbed all over him.

“That’s good, look, I know you’re gay and all, but *hic* it’s like, mares have buttholes too y’know and some of us are like, totally into that,” she slurred.

“That’s nice. I have a boyfriend.”

“Yeah that’s true but, but, have you thought that me and Silver Spoon are both really, really good at sucking cock, and we’d like, totally do you at the same time—”

Silver Spoon herself appeared from the crowd and began to lead Diamond Tiara away. “Hey Rumble, sorry, I think my friend here needs a glass of water and maybe a breath of fresh air away from all these ponies that can hear you, Di...”

Rumble smiled at her. “No problem. Need a hoof?”

“Thanks, but I’ve got this.”

“I could use a hoof,” said Diamond, “H-hey, y’know what a ‘rusty trombone’ is, Rumble—”

“That’s enough, Di, lets gooo,” said Silver, sing-song, as she led her friend away. Rumble and Lickety Split looked at one another, and burst out laughing.

A loud bang came from the kitchen. Lickety jumped a foot in the air.

“You want me to check it out?” asked Rumble.

“I’ll check it out, you keep an eye on the party. I know enough science to duck at the right time.”

Rumble nodded, and Lickety headed into the kitchen.

The kitchen stunk of acrid chemicals, and the lights flickered on and off in ways that made Lickety feel woozy just looking at them. Every time the lights went dark, chalk circles glowed on the floor. Dinky was in the center of it, hunched over the sink. Next to her, the dough-maker churned. She didn’t even look up.

“Everything is fine. I totally expected that to happen.”

“Do *cough* do you need any help?”

“No. Oh, some of those circles on the floor are electrically charged, by the way, so. Y’know. Don’t disturb my circles.”

Something thick and dark reached over the lip of the dough-mixing bowl. It looked at Lickety. Dinky turned her head, lifted a spatula in her telekinesis, and slapped at the thing until it fell back down into the mixing bowl.

“Dinky what the shit was that?!”

“Non-newtonian fluid moving due to ambient vibrations. Nothing to worry about. Not sentient,” she said. “Probably.”

Lickety Split was about to protest when the noise of something breaking came from upstairs. “Celestia, what now?”

He ran upstairs and burst into the spare bedroom. Twelve rough-looking middle-aged musicians sat on various bits of furniture. Half of them were holding guitars, and there were more lit cigarettes in the room than there were ponies.

“—so if I run my magic through the E string and play G-minor, it sounds exactly like a bed breaking in half,” said one of them.

“Lickety! Come on in,” said Ruby Pinch. She was sat next to Tootsie Flute, and they were both eating from a bowl of popcorn.

“Nothing’s breaking?” he asked.

“Nah, we’re just chillin’. Take a seat,” said Tootsie Flute. He sat down between them. The musicians seemingly hadn’t noticed him come in. They were half-listening to a stallion in his late twenties with a dark, brown coat and a shaggy mane that fell over his eyes.

With a heavy, Northern-Trottingham accent, he said, “...and so I sez to him, look, if you’re gonna be such a mardy fookin’ cunt about it I’m gonna fookin’ twat you right in the gob, but he don’t fookin’ listen, he don’t fookin’ listen to anything, the cunt. Anyway, here’s Wonderwall.”

They all found themselves nodding along to the chords.

“Catchy,” said Ruby.

The stallion shook his head. “Nah, love, it’s too mainstream to catch on. Real music these days is all slide whistles and train noises.”

“Yeah, Noel, that’s what I always say,” said another, “It don’t matter if you’re brass or woodwind, it’s not what you blow, it’s who you blow.”

“S-so are you guys all musicians?” asked Lickety.

They all laughed. One of them spat on the floor and then looked directly at him. “No mate, we’re fookin’ gigolos innit. You want some bum love?”

“Brassley, be nice,” warned Tootsie Flute. The stallion put his hooves in the air.

“Calm down, love, just havin’ a laugh. Ee’, lad, ‘Tavi sez you’re a fan of hers. Is that right?”

“H-huh?” squeaked Lickety. “Yeah, she’s good.”

“Yeah, she knows her way around a cello I’ll say that much. Word of warning though mate, if she offers to shag you, say no. She’s got enough yeast between her legs to start a fookin’ brewery!”

“brassballs you’re such a twat i don’t even know why we bring you around everywah. anyway lickety yah? have you seen me play anywah?”

“Um, never live. I did see your Grand Galloping Gala tapes, though.”

“oh my celestiah, you did not see those tapes i thought they’d all been burned”

“You didn’t like them?”

“oh i like loved them but the conductah didn’t feel the same way hah hah. i’d done so much laudanum before our second set that the element of laughtah came up on stage and dry humped me in front of like everypony yah and i didn’t even know about it until afterwards” She paused and took a drag from all eight of her cigarettes. “anyway do you have any heroin anywah?”

Ruby Pinch sighed. “‘Tavi, we’ve been over this. Lickety does not have any heroin in his spare room.”

“Wait, which room’s the spare room?” asked Noel.

“This one,” said Tootsie.

“There’s heroin in this room?”

“No, there’s no heroin—”

“Where’s the fookin’ heroin?!”

“Check the drawers!”

“Maybe he’s hiding it in the pillows!”

“Under the carpets!”

“bet it’s in the mattress yah”

“Tear the books apart!”

In a second, all the musicians stood and fell on whatever was closest to them, shaking and rattling and tearing through it until they were sure that it hid not one scrap of heroin.

“STOP! ALL OF YOU, STOP!” As soon as the words left Lickety Split’s lips, every pony in the room froze and looked directly at him. He wished the words had not left his lips.

Noel sat back down and picked up the guitar. “All right. We’ll stop.”

“yah we’ll stop looking for heroin. for now”

Ruby Pinch and Tootsie Flute sat frozen with rictus grins on their faces. Their eyes flitted between twelve angry musicians and Lickety Split. He swallowed.

“I’m, uh, I’m gonna go back downstairs and enjoy the party,” he said quietly.

“Yeah, you do that mate.”

“have fun yah”

Lickety Split stood up, his eyes never leaving the ponies in the room, and walked out backwards. He shut the door—slammed it, really—and sat down on his haunches. He let out a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding.

Then a screaming came from down the stairs.

It was all Lickety could do not to just lie down on the carpet and wish very hard for everyone to disappear.

Downstairs, in the living room, the dance-floor had shied back to give the two mares screaming at each other some space.

Pina Colada was yelling, so drunk she could barely stand upright. “—Bitch, did you just call me a slut? I will fucking end you, you dumb bitch!”

“You are a fucking slut you bitch,” screamed Alula, “You’ve sucked every dick in Ponyville, you’d suck your dad’s dick if you thought he’d love you for it—”

“You did not just—”

Chowder, the tall, fat and imposing grey colt, stepped between them. “Ladies, please, let’s not—”

Both fillies pushed straight past him and pressed up face to face again. “Oh look, now you’re getting Chowder to step in between us huh bitch, you know you can’t fucking take me—”

“I’m getting him, no, you’re the one who wants Chowder in front of you, slut, because you can’t go ten fucking minutes without sucking somepony’s dick—”

The music changed from generic rock to the cheesiest of dance-pop, and the volume doubled.

“Oh my Celestia this is totally my jam,” said Pina Colada.

“Yeah mine too dance break!” said Alula.

Slowly, carefully, the dancefloor pushed back in around them, and the party was back to normal. Lickety Split glanced at the DJ’s decks to see who his saviour was. Warmth bubbled inside him when he saw Rumble grinning back at him, headphones pressing down on his slicked-back mane.

Rumble clambered through the crowd, grabbed Lickety, and kissed him. Lickety sunk into the kiss, willing and grateful.

“That’s the third time this has happened since you went to check on Dinky,” said Rumble. “Mare, when will ponies learn that you can’t throw a party without a DJ on hoof at all times? Shouldn’t Tootsie Flute be doing this?”

“She’s, uh, babysitting,” said Lickety, raising his voice so he could be heard over the music.

“Things are getting pretty crazy and they haven’t even opened the bourbon yet. I think Pipsqueak needs to make good on his promise. You want me to find him for you?”

“He’s not here?”

“Nah, I think he went upstairs.”

“Okay. Right. You keep an eye on everything here. I’ll be right back!” He kissed Rumble on the lips and went back upstairs.

Pipsqueak wasn’t in the bathroom, and Lickety wasn’t willing to check the spare room again.

His bedroom door was shut. There was a sock on the doorknob. I shouldn’t have to knock on my own bedroom door, Lickety thought, but he knocked anyway.

Pipsqueak opened the door a crack. His hoodie was gone, and he reeked of sweat and hormones. “Hey, Lickey! I’m having sex with Diamond Tiara, and Silver Spoon is filming it. Wanna watch?”

“...you’re making porn with Mr Rich’s daughter. In my bedroom.”

“Yeah, it’s fun! Y’know, I never realised how hard—heh—it was to get a stiffy and keep it up between shoots. Not something I usually have a problem with, right? Anyway, have you got any boner pills lying around mate?”

“No, I don’t. I’m just going to go and think of all the ways that Mr Rich will ruin and murder me when he sees porn of his daughter filmed in my bedroom which he will instantly recognise because he’s coming over for coffee tomorrow.”

Pipsqueak waved him off. “Oh, don’t be like that. Only Diamond Tiara is getting a copy anyway, so you don’t have to worry about anypony seeing it. It’s not like she’s going to act out to get back at her wealthy, distant father or anything.”

“Damn it Pipsqueak—” said Lickety, but Pipsqueak was already looking downwards.

“Uh, we’ll talk in just a minute, I really need some boner pills. Dinky will have some, I’m sure of it...”

With that, Pipsqueak slipped past him and walked downstairs, flopping as he went. Lickety, against his better judgement, opened his bedroom door to try and talk them out of—

“Where have you been Pip get your face in here I’m antsy—”

—and he walked face-first into Diamond Tiara’s presented rump.

Comments

[Isseus]

4863670 Yes. A friend whose opinion I value asked me to.

[Type_Writer]

Chucky, joo maek leetle pones do 'horrible theengs...

Keep up da goot vork, ja?