Confeatheracy of Dunces

by BlueBastard

Chapter 9 - "Heaven (that place with the Chandelier) in Your Eyes"

Confeatheracy of Dunces

Chapter 9

Scootaloo hungrily bit into her delicious Junior O’Burger like a famished timberwolf...if timberwolves ate crappy, but cheap, tofu-based fast food, that is.

“Just sayin’, Scoot, those things are a heart attack on a bun if you keep inhaling them at the rate you’re going,” advised Rainbow, who had opted to ruin her own diet a little for the sake of enjoying the moment by way of two large tofu chili haydog coneys. Unlike the filly sitting on her back, however, Rainbow would have to wait to eat until she got to their seats in a private skybox toward the top of the seating structure. In fairness, it wasn’t really “private” as it was “special invitation” as the seats were in front of a relatively large covered deck often occupied by the well-to-do upper class of Canterlot for typical, short derbies.

Today, however, was different. This was the Triple Feather Derby, the biggest showcase the Wonderbolts would put on all year. A mix of performance competitions in both aerial agility and raw speed, the “TFD” as it was called by both its participants and fans, it served as a high water mark for the Wonderbolts main performance season. In a practical sense, it also served as a way to “break-in” the rookies who had made it to the primetime but had little experience performing in front of a crowd, the hope being that the raw energy and excitement of the whole affair would in turn motivate them to get over any lingering stage fright. Thus, the normally stuffy private viewing area was reserved only for audience members with some connection to the Wonderbolts, ranging from retired Wonderbolts and their families to the ponies working public relations duty and the reservists, the latter not being allowed to participate as they were not true Wonderbolts just yet.

Having become something of a public figure herself (much to her secret chagrin), Rainbow wasn’t too awestruck by being in the presence of legends like Crafty Netti, who had been so popular among the ranks as a squad leader that to be able to claim one could “Run With Netti” could be marked as a highlight of one’s service record, and of course the one and only Seamuffin who in her time with the ‘Bolts had set the record for the most consecutive derby wins.

“Wow, there’s a lot of awesome ponies, here!” gushed Scootaloo, who wasn’t certain that she had not in fact died and gone to Worship-what-Rainbow-Worships Heaven. “Of course, they’re not as cool as you, Dash!”

“Of course not, you gotta remember that I’m technically a second generation Wonderbolt myself, given my mom was one in all but official capacity.”

“I thought you said your mom quit the reserves to get married?”

“Yeah, but that was because she found my dad even more awesome and, naturally, all that awesome combined led to me, so truthfully? The only thing holding me back from being on the field today is the process of climbing the ladder, so to speak. Oh, hey, they’re about to start the first race!”

For about the next hour, the two pegasi were truly like sisters and anypony who wasn’t aware of Rainbow being an only filly would have immediately assumed they were sisters by blood. In fact, several ponies did come up to the pair simply to ask Rainbow why she never mentioned the fact Firefly had given birth to another daughter, expressing surprise when the Wonderbolt hopeful corrected the misconception as the idea somepony who was so lazy when not doing flying related things moving heaven and earth to be one filly’s big sister figure seemed to hit them out of left field. And it brought Scootaloo more and more pride every time Rainbow made sure to mention how a sibling relationship like theirs didn’t need a bloodline connection to be as strong as any true family relation.

“At this rate, I might need to ask my parents to outright adopt you, Scoot,” suggested Rainbow after explaining their story to what must have been the fifteenth pony to ask.

“Hey, it beats how everypony thought I was an orphan for some reason a few years ago when my parents were on some trip lasting months and I had to stay with my Aunt Mistral and Uncle Sundowner over in Easy Mark.”

Rainbow raised an eyebrow at that. “Easy Mark? But you were still going to Ponyville Elementary?”

Scootaloo shrugged. “Uncle Sundowner flew me back and forth, it was only for the last month of school I needed to get frequent flyer miles. Though between you and me? I was just glad to get out of the house, I really don’t like my cousin Monsoon.”

“Why?”

“He decided to try making me some test subject involving electric magnets and spouted things he called ‘memes’ or something, namely while trying to shock me or something.” Scootaloo then leaned in closer to Rainbow as if to tell a secret. “He’s not a pegasus so he doesn’t get how we’re immune to that kind of thing.”

Dash just stared indignantly at her pseudo-sibling. When Scoot finally realized her mistake, she shot back in embarrassment.

“Oh, sorry, sorrysorrysorry! Totally forgot about…yeah, sorry!”

To her relief, Dash’s mouth just melted into a smile as she got drawn into a one-legged hug. “Ah, it’s no biggie. Not like anypony gets struck by lightning at random, I’m just awesome that way, too.”

“I wouldn’t say the most gifted individual in the reserves getting grounded by a freak lightning strike is awesome,” came a new voice, “in fact if I’m not mistaken, isn’t getting struck by lightning a bad sign?”

“Better than getting knocked out by a falling unicorn,” replied Rainbow with a smirk. “Which I do believe the act of saving you and the other Wonderbolts got me on the fast track into the reserves in the first place, no?”

Spitfire shook her head as she got within proper talking distance of her subordinate. “Guess that bolt really did only make your brain think you could fly like a penguin, though I hear you’ve been well on the upswing for recovery?”

“Yeah! I’m almost at the point I can do a Sonic Rainboom again, just working out the kinks in the minor details, y’know?”

Spitfire shrugged. “Not really, I can’t do a Sonic Rainboom. My thing’s [X], remember? Or did the lightning fry that bit of your birdbrain too?”

"[X]?" Rainbow gasped, her brain literally unable to grasp the word Spitfire had said, as though her neurons had somehow censored the word.

“Rainbow, what’s an [X]?” asked Scoot, having never heard the word before.

“It’s what I’m good at,” explained Spitfire.

"Yeah, I'll say!" Soarin' called out, having overheard the conversation. "Spitfire's the best damn [X]-specialist the Wonderbolts have ever had! Even better than Ol' Rocketfuel himself!"

Rainbow blinked, not sure if her brain had suddenly fantasized the whole thing.

“Uh, you okay, Rainbow?” asked Spitfire.

“Y-yeah, what were you saying?”

“I was just saying that I’m got at-“

“Ah, yes, okay, good!” interrupted Rainbow, much to Spitfire’s confusion. Was there a problem with what she did for a special talent?

Meanwhile, Scootaloo was getting into the excitement of the moment. "So, Spitfire, can anypony do [X], or is it tied to your special talent?"

"Well, kiddo, anypony can do it with enough practice," the Wonderbolts leader said with a wry smile, "but it takes years of training and talent to pull off the really high-class [X]es, you know?"

"Oh, so Rainbow can do a better [X] than you, Spitfire?"

Rainbow blanched slightly, as insulting her superior officer in the ‘Bolts wasn’t a good idea. "Uh, Scoots, not knockin' anypony, but I'm...uh...sure that Spitfire's own talents are the best at what she does, especially her, um...skill. And while I can probably do it, I, um...still need to work on my flying and recovery, which is why it's important that I keep training with Cheerliee."

At the mention of the teacher’s name, Scootaloo started to pout. That in turn told Spitfire that there was currently unresolved issues that the two sisters needed to work out. “Er, I’ll catch up more with you later, Dash, gotta go see Fleetfoot about a thing.”

Rainbow saw off Spitfire, before taking a deep breath and facing Scootaloo over the proverbial white elephant between them. “Scoot, you know I need to get airborne for the sake of Ponyville not getting destroyed by weather.”

“So, what, are you saying ‘the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few’ or something?” angrily asked Scoot.

“No, because that saying gets said so often and isn’t really even what this issue actually stems from,” answered Rainbow. “I know I promised we would spend time together, which last I checked is exactly what we’re supposed to be doing right now, but the truth is that promise was made without knowing I was going to be suddenly limited in flying ability. The importance that I get back to being the fastest thing in the sky is something I can’t emphasize enough, Scoot. I need to fly for my job, I need to fly if I’m ever going to be more than a Wonderbolt Reserve, I need to fly because this picture on my butt sides tells me that’s what I’m really good at doing. And so that’s why I’ve been spending all my free time with Ms. Cheerilee and her, uh, assistants; so I can get back to being awesome in the way I know how as fast as possible.

“I will admit, I was so focused on getting through this therapy thing that I didn’t give as much consideration to how you felt about the whole affair. The time you and I spend together is something I can’t even begin to describe how much I value. But at the same time, I knew the faster I got through therapy, the faster things would get back to normal and the sooner we would be able to have the sister time like I promised. Obviously, I needed to do a better job of balancing my time management as you felt I was being neglectful by keeping out out of the loop. That wasn’t at all my intention, Scoot, and it never will. “

“What?” Scootaloo was surprised that Rainbow thought she had been the one at fault. “No, I knew you wouldn’t be doing this therapy thing if you had a choice, but Ms. Cheerilee’s been-“

“Been what? Stealing me, I think you accused her of?” Rainbow raised an eyebrow. “Scoot, think about it; why in the world would your teacher scheme to take up all my time such that I had none left for you? If anything, she’s the one being hardest hit because of this whole nonsense.”

“How? She’s the one doing all the teaching! For all you know, she could be intentionally keeping you from ever regaining your full flying talent!”

“Again, Scoot, I ask why she would ever want that?”

With her chest puffed out, Scootaloo raised a hoof to deliver her evidence. Except she then realized she had none.

Dash smirked. “Thought so. I get the feeling you were just jealous that she was getting to spend time with me when you weren’t, but to tell the truth, nopony who is tied to my therapy really wants it to go any longer than it needs to. I already told you my reasons, but you also need to realize how much this is impacting their lives, too. Dr. Silver and his wife Mrs. Chalkboard? They’re only in town simply to help provide the requirements for physical therapy that Cheerilee herself can’t.”

“So? I still don’t see why Ms. Cheerilee is the one you say has made the biggest sacrifices over all this. She was a pegasus for a whole week of school several months ago, too, so it’s not like this is anything new to-“

“Scoot,” intoned Dash, becoming more stern and serious than Scootaloo had ever seen her be. “Do you know what life is like as an earth pony?”

“Wh-what do you mean?” questioned the filly, sort of horrified at what Rainbow might be saying.

“No, I don’t mean to be asking it like that!” retorted Rainbow with an eye roll. “I mean in the simple details, things like…okay, how about this: what if you woke up one day and your wings were gone, but instead you had a horn on your forehead? What would you be unable to do in that situation?”

“Well…I don’t think my helmet would fit anymore, but more importantly, without my wings, I couldn’t go fast on my scooter, or be as athletic since aren’t unicorns usually the slowest compared to earth ponies and pegasi?”

“I don’t know if that’s true entirely, but the other stuff about the scooter is sort of on the right track. With that in mind, imagine what it must have been like for your teacher, who has to spend every day of her life right now with an extra set of limbs attached to her back. Limbs that require learning how to preen, something we natural pegasi practically know how to do from birth but she probably had to learn from her mother.”

“Cheerilee’s mom is a pegasus?”

“Yeah, she actually gave a lecture the first day of therapy on flight basics to me and Cheerilee, but that’s beside the point.”

“Which is that Ms. Cheerilee isn’t trying to steal you, but instead has to live with weird physical complications all in the name of your well-being?”

Rainbow nodded. “Yeah, but when I’m eventually cleared as fully therapized, she gets to go back to being an earth pony.”

“Oh.” Scootaloo then finally began to understand the gravity of what she’d done two days prior. “I bet I hurt her bad when I accused her of trying to keep us apart, didn’t I? Rainbow, when we get back to Ponyville tomorrow, remind me I need to apologize. I shouldn’t have been so judgmental.”

“Will do. I’m sure that while Cheerilee is doing fine right now, showing her you understand you’re not the only one whose summer is being ruined by this therapy business will cheer her right up!”

---

The number of times Cheerilee had needed to go to her parents’ house for things she really should have known how to do herself in the past month was rapidly approaching double digits, which was exponentially more than the number of times she’d visited for any reason in the preceding year. The fact she’d considered using one of her mother’s own dresses for the evening had been bad enough, but even with the dress, Cheerilee found herself at the mercy of her mother’s touch once again, though for a much more delicate matter.

“So you have that awful atrocity of a dress you got for the sole purpose of rebelling against more contemporary styles of the time, and a ton of other dresses in addition to that, but the only makeup you have is as recent as Silver and Dusty’s wedding from last year?” Swiftsprinter just shook her head in disbelief. “Do you have some aversion to looking good, to the point Rarity had to make a custom dress for you in secret?”

“Mom, I’m a teacher, not a secretary or a trophy wife or any other kind of pony who slathers on stuff that’s essentially glorified grease on their face. You’re a emergency response pony, too, you of all ponies should know that grease on fur is going to end in disaster!”

“Only for ponies who don’t practice. It’s like a delicate art in how makeup should be applied. Plus, I don’t know why you still have that impression that good makeup should be caked on like a mud pie; the intention is to be a collection of subtle colorations that bring out your natural beauty.”

Cheerilee sighed as the powder was lightly padded against her cheeks. “Fine, just…no mascara. Even if I don’t know makeup all that well, I know enough about how you always overdo it, mom. I don’t want to go out tonight looking like my eyes are straight out of a hoof-drawn cartoon or something.”

“Of course not, dear, not after Pinkie made it illegal to have more than half an ounce of the stuff in any household.” The incident of Pinkie Pie’s “Boutique Party” still manifested itself around town as Pinkie’s sudden fixation on the color black had not ended well for anypony after she discovered the “joys” of the eyeliner formula.

Suddenly, a familiar knock was at the door, sending the house into silence.

“Guess he’s picking this flower as fresh as he can,” joked Swift, before putting a reassuring hoof on her daughter’s withers. “It’s going to be fine, Cheerilee, honestly you’re no better like this then your own students. Big Mac doesn’t have cooties.”

“Mom, that was something the Equestrian Department of Education came up with to encourage kids to stay away from kids with Mane Lice when you were in school,” corrected Cheerilee. “But…I don’t want this to just end up with us being good friends like the last time.”

“And it’s not, you know what your father said he was going to do if things-“

“I know he played his retired guardspony card and both he and you are going to be playing stakeout at a table in the same restaurant.” Disarmed, Swift couldn’t come up with a justification or much less a reason to dissuade her daughter of such a notion, which brought a smile to Cheerilee’s muzzle. “What, you don’t think I didn’t expect him to do something like that, what with all the stories of him doing that kind of work when he investigated changeling hives?”

“No, I think you’re proving that you’re still quick-witted enough that even if something bad happened tonight, you’d be able to make it one of the evening’s positive highlights. Now go meet your date before I whip out what mascara I do have!”

The mock-argument continued out of the master bathroom, down the stairs, and finally ended with no clear victor just before reaching the front door. Before Cheerilee could properly ready herself, however, a distinct silver aura illuminated the doorknob and threw the partition open without any warning. She didn’t bother looking around; Silver would already have bolted away with victory at having pulled that old trick again. She’d get him back later.

But currently, her priorities were to the other stallion of her interest, one she wanted in an entirely different manner. There, standing in the largest tuxedo she’d ever seen, was Big Mac. How Rarity managed to cram him into formal wear must have involved making the clothing conceal some sort of pocket dimension to hold all of the large stallion. But she didn’t care about the how, she cared about how Mac had clearly gone to great lengths that extended well out of his comfort zone for no reason other than to impress the town’s simple schoolmarm.

"Pleasant evening we're having, madame, are we not?" Big Mac asked a surprisingly mellifluous voice that stunned Cheerilee.

“B-Big Mac?” stammered Cheerilee, “When…when did you-“

“As I’m sure you’re aware, our mutual friend Rarity has had her hoof in much of tonight’s affairs. Including, shall we say, ‘accent lessons’ to make me sound more refined for this night’s dinner plans.”

“It’s…it’s not permanent, is it? Not to say I don’t like it, but…Trottingham just doesn’t seem to fit you.”

Big Mac sighed in what seemed to be relief. “You have no idea how pleased as punch I am to hear such. If I may be so bold, I hope you don’t mind if I continue this at least for our eve, as it was a rather ghastly affair with Rarity drilling me into sounding like this and I fear if I were to, ahem, ‘release it’ I shall revert back to my normal voice, which I have been assured is an occurrence that simply won’t do for tonight.”

Cheerilee smiled, before walking forward and weaving one of her forelegs into Big Mac’s. “Well, if that’s the case, then we might as well get it over with, shall we? Or should we tell the Crusaders they can get their cutie marks by trying to be fancy dining food service employees?”

“As long as we don’t need to use those awful pet names like last time.”

---

“Ah, yes, we’ve been…expecting you,” greeted Pleasant Demeanor to the odd couple. Against all odds, that Rarity had managed to take the absolute hick she’d walked into the restaurant two days before and turned him into a virtual Shorn Cannery, complete with the Trottingham accent. It wasn’t perfect, the appearance had obvious cracks in a few spots, but in general the tux-garbed stallion wouldn’t raise too many eyebrows. It almost made Demeanor feel bad about accepting that one mare’s money.

But he didn’t feel bad enough about his date. This “Cheerilee” individual, according to that little info packet he’d been given, was the very definition of the average “commoner” the restaurant disliked having, which by extension he was not too fond of either. Why that one mare wanted him to utterly ruin a common schoolteacher’s fancy dinner date was beyond him, but he suspected it had something to do with how the images in the effective dossier (the questions raised about why there was a dossier on her full of no incriminating info whatsoever were pushed into the back of his mind) depicted an earth pony when clearly the mare who had shown up was a pegasus. Apparently the discrepancy was somehow tied to unconventional transfiguration, or what basically amounted to mean “freak of nature” to PD. To the mare’s credit, she looked dressed just as well as her companion in a fetching little black dress, but unlike the possibly brainwashed tuxedo clad one, she very much lacked the finesse expected of the patrons of the establishment. Such a problem would need to be corrected indeed.

But the two had no idea of his thoughts, his perfectly serene expression masking the reality. He grabbed up two menus before beckoning them to follow. “As requested, you have the honor of being at the best table in the restaurant.” The night of trials had begun, PD noted, as the already seated patrons occasionally looked up when they noticed the new comers, but he was able to seat them without much fuss. Why are those two even together? the maitre d’ thought as he handed them their menus before heading back to his normal station at the front of the house, the first part of his plan needing to wait before being executed.

Suddenly, he heard the voice of Armageddon when he saw who was next to be seated.

“Oooh, shiny!” chirped Pinkie, wearing a baby blue dress that anybody familiar with her wardrobe would have noted looked strikingly like her old gala dress only with less candy-themed décor.

“Indeed, they certainly spared no expense to blind whoever enters, didn’t they?” commented Rarity, who outright just wore her gala dress wholesale and without change.

PD revised his previous thoughts. This is when his trials would begin.

---

It was an awkward atmosphere at the table where the two ponies with the most unusual love lives sat across from one another. They’d finally managed to get over the awkwardness of how they’d been effectively mind-controlled into the same physical position a year before by Cheerilee’s elementary students.

Now they just had to get over the awkwardness of breaking the ice, a task neither of them were having much success with as they hid behind their menus.

“So, um…” ventured Cheerilee. “You see anything that sounds good?”

“I’m assuming everything on the menu is good, dear lady. why, it would be simply beyond the pale were they to serve anything that any decent pony could construe as ‘bad’,” replied Big Mac, avoiding having to outright say the fanciest thing he’d ever eaten had probably been the birthday cake at Apple Bloom’s last birthday, since Pinkie had gone all-out and made a five flavor ice cream cake. Naturally, Big Mac had refused a slice, citing it wouldn’t be right for him to eat something meant for his little sister, but it had been in vain when he suddenly found a Pinkie-foreleg-propelled super-sized slice shoved into his gullet the second he opened his mouth to repeat his refusal. He was certain it had been so good that it almost had killed him from pure sugar overload.

Behind her menu, Cheerilee giggled. “A fair point, though the pasta al burro e parmigiano with the broccoli spears sort of calls to me.”

“Sort of? Does it only send you half a telegram?”

The sudden, light thump told Big Mac he probably said something bad. Gingerly, he lowered his menu to see a nonplused expression on his date’s face.

“As a matter of fact, yes,” she replied in perfect deadpan. “But I don’t know why all it ever tells me is ‘stop’ without telling me what I should ‘stop’ in the first place.”

Big Mac was at a loss as to what to say, his mouth slightly agape as his brain raced to try and comprehend what was going on. Mercifully, his companion’s expression shifted to an amused smile. “It’s a joke, you don’t seriously think that was at all serious did you?”

“Depends on if you’re aware of the time my sister and her cohorts got so bored they actually tried talking to fruit.”

“What? They did not!”

“Well, it might have been because I told them to try talking to some conveniently sleeping ‘fruitbats’ they hadn’t seen me buy from the market earlier that day.”

“You did not!” Cheerilee put a hoof to her mouth to stop herself from bursting into laughter. “I can’t believe you’re the one who was responsible for your sister bringing in that giant strawberry and claiming it was a hibernating fruitbat!”

“Oh, so that’s what she did with it?” Big Mac proceeded to launch into a very British-accented recounting of the time when the CMC tried to get their marks for agricultural science by making things grow faster, except they only managed to make their experimental crop grow three times larger than natural size. All the while, neither of the two noticed that they still hadn’t decided what to order for dinner.

---

“I’ll leave you two to decide what you want to order, a waiter will be along soon to take your drink requests. I hope you have the utmost delightful dining experience here at the Le Epicurean Cavalier!” The unicorn and pegasus couple nodded politely and PD left to go kiss the plots of whoever else had shown up while he waited to act. As he glanced over, he noticed Big Mac and Cheerilee only just now placing their orders, a good twenty minutes after having been seated. While he was glad he had the chance now instead of them ordering up while seating Rarity and the pink nightmare herself, the delay was grating on his psyche. At least the party of two who he seated after the cause of his initial problems – an ex-guardspony veteran and his wife who carried herself like a seasoned field medic – had been much more accommodating to his temperament and at no point had asked where the bathtub full of ice cream was hidden. Honestly, a bathtub full of ice cream of all things! Scoffed PD, mentally, where does that air-headed blob of sentient cotton candy think she is? Beet O’ Brady’s?!

Taking the opportunity to head to the staff area next to the kitchen, PD let himself flex his face – wearing that fake smile was so straining sometimes – before noting the server who had taken his mark’s orders having returned and putting up the order slip on the line to be prepared. Acting quickly, PD slipped into the kitchen and momentarily took the script down.

“Hey, what do you think-?” retorted one of the line chefs, before being silenced by PD’s raised hoof.

“The table that ordered this notified me that there was to be a slight change, that’s all,” reassured PD. The line cook grumbled before turning back to the vat of soup he was dishing up. While it was an extremely rare occurrence, it was not unheard of that the maitre d' on duty being asked to slightly alter an order at a patron’s request in lieu of the waiter’s availability. Obviously, no such thing had happened in this instance, but nopony really cared to question it since it wasn’t that much a secret about how PD was almost as disliked by the actual chefs as much as he hated the clientele. Besides, he thought with a smirk as he made his slight alteration to the order ticket, it’s not like Rarity can complain, this is something normally reserved for only the most important of ponies. And for good reason.

---

“…so I’m trying to find Lugnut and somehow, I keep ending up not only having to play all these kinds of carnival games but also consecutively winning them, but I really don’t need any of the prizes I’m winning so I keep handing them off to ponies around me. It wasn’t until later when I learned it was somehow not only the same pony each time, but that it was the same Wonderbolt who had crashed into me a little while earlier. Apparently she thought me shoving all these cheap prizes in her direction was me showering her with gifts of affection!” Big Mac chuckled. “Honestly? The fact she was sort of stalking me was really off-putting and from what I recall of Rainbow telling me about her, she’s not my kind of mare.”

“Wait, you shower a mare who you don’t like, but when it comes to the mare you do like, you don’t shower me with gifts?” Cheerilee mock-pouted, hoping Mac didn’t take offense and think he could buy her affections with material goods. Except maybe more hard cider but she wasn’t going to risk something that could make her seem to be an exploitive alcoholic.

Fortunately, Mac took it in stride. “Of course, isn’t my plan of giving ponies I don’t like so many things that they’re buried in useless junk obvious? How else would I have enough time for the ponies I do like?”

Cheerilee laughed. “You know, it’s a shame you don’t talk more often, you’re much more witty than anypony really gives you credit for.”

Mac shrugged. “I…rarely get the chance to show it: on the farm there isn’t much use for long conversations and, if you’ll allow me to admit, I’m still not good with using the more complicated words in the dictionary, especially the ones I don’t really even understand.”

The college graduate mare blinked in confusion. “I don’t follow.”

Big Mac took a deep sigh before replying. “You probably already know simply from our usual interactions when we pass each other in the street, but…I’m not quite as smart as you are.”

To his surprise, Cheerilee shook her head in disagreement. “I can assure you, Big Mac, that you know far, far more about how to run an apple farm than I ever will.”

“No, it’s not like that,” replied Mac, “it’s-“

“Dinner is served,” interrupted the Prench-accented server, a crème’ coated unicorn with a well-cared-for mustache, as he levitated two large covered trays in front of the two diners, then removed the domed covers to reveal the finest Prench cuisine in all of Ponyville. “Bon appetit!”

“Thank you,” both Mac and Cheerilee said, their server nodding in acknowledgement before departing.

the meal looked succulent, with glazed carrots in a honey-spiced drizzle, accompanied with neatly-scallloped potatoes and grilled Brussels sprouts. On the other plate, a well-braised tofu-steak sat, crusted with mushrooms and almonds, and accompanied by a three-rice paella.

“Before we begin,” started Cheerilee, a slight blush coming to her cheeks,” I feel I have to tell you that you didn’t need to do all this just to impress me, and while I understand why, it’s just-OH!” Almost absentmindedly, she’d started trying to use her cutlery to prepare the food for her consumption, but somehow she’d ended up launching a small portion of it on a trajectory right in the middle of Big Mac’s muzzle.”

“Cheerilee, if you wanted to feed me,” joked Big Mac, partly of the opinion she’d actually done that on purpose as she simply licked the food off his face as if it was the most natural thing in the world (and causing at least one other diner who had noticed to faint at the blatantly poor table manners at play), “you just had to-“

SPLAT

Somehow, purely by accident, Cheerilee had launched an even bigger portion of her food onto Big Mac’s face. “I…I’m so sorry, I don’t know what…” she stammered, now trying desperately to figure out why she suddenly couldn’t control silverware to direct food into her mouth and not Big Mac’s face.

---

From a distance, PD watched with an almost serene lack of care, though inside he was grinning wildly. His plan had paid off – for whatever reason, that dossier had included what looked like a school textbook’s simple description of the differences between pegasus, unicorn, and earth ponies. Among the details, he noted that there were implications that earth ponies had more dexterity in their hooves compared to the other subspecies, though in most cases this difference was a negligible detail for pony interaction. But he played a hunch that, if Cheerilee really had become a pegasus despite being otherwise a naturally born earth pony, she would be used to her hooves being more sensitive than usual and, more importantly, having a better grip. So, he’d had the serving staff be accommodating of his added “request” that she be given a set of extra polished silverware – made from real silver, of course – and were thus extremely difficult to manipulate if a pony’s grip was…lacking.

As the increasingly panicky mare tried to salvage the situation and only ended up shoveling more of her food into her date’s face, PD was certain he was in the clear.

Or at least until Big Mac, trying to stop his date from giving him a Prench cuisine facial mask, leaned forward and evidently upset the table’s balance. It promptly snapped at the base under his weight, causing him to fall to the ground and what was left of both dishes to fall on top of him.

Then, the miniature quake that came from the massive stallion hitting the floor managed to shake the whole building…just enough for the chandelier’s mounting to come loose. Fortunately, the fixture had been hung over a large fountain, so as it fell nopony was in danger of being crushed under it, but it still made quite a spectacle of noise as parts of it broke upon hitting the surface.

PD had no time to react as the next thing he knew was a mulberry blur racing past him and out the door, a barely perceptible trail of tears in its wake. He couldn’t help but grin maliciously but for a moment at his success.

“It was him!” suddenly rang out a high-pitched voice, which as PD turned to face apparently had produced a deerstalker cap and a pipe that blew bubbles. And with her was two very angry looking stallions, one of them the still food-coated Big Mac, and the other the ex-guard.

“I…beg your pardon?” replied the maitre d'. How could they even know he was-

“I found this in that pedestal thing you stand in front of all day!” declared Pinkie, holding up an evidence-bagged manila envelope with CHEERILEE printed on it in large block letters. A few of the pictures had already spilled out, ending any chance of trying to claim it was a different Cheerilee as if there was one.

Suddenly, the sound of flushing came from the conveniently nearby door to the ladies’ restroom, followed by a brief use of the sink, and finally by none other than Rarity choosing that exact moment to emerge, the whole disaster evidently occurring while she was doing her business.

Whatever was about to happen to him at the hooves of two pairs of angry ponies, one set horned and the other not, PD decided it was not ultimately worth the promise of a thousand bits.

---

The door slamming shut behind her, Cheerilee finally allowed herself to collapse against it, a pathetic excuse of a pony weeping in her place. She’d managed to absolutely screw it all up, at the worst possible moment. Not only that, but she probably embarrassed Big Mac to an exponential degree since if it wasn’t for her epic fail of trying to simply use cutlery, half a restaurant wouldn’t have been destroyed and…and…

Desperate to get some kind of relief, even though she knew she deserved it, she unconsciously moved toward one of her secret hard cider stashes. She had multiples all over her house, stocked for the occasion when she might need to be absolutely hammered, and as she prepared to crawl into the bottle, now was as good a time as any.

Author's Note:

I have created British Fancymac.

What have I done?!

Comments

[Seeking Dusk]

Sir Grand Macintosh, of the largest Apple Estate in Equestria.

You've managed to make me dislike those teachers even more than I already did. Well done. (I really hope Diamond Tiara never finds out about them...)

[Bugsydor]

Poor Cheerilee.

I hope Big Mac can catch up with her before she gets incredibly anti-drunk.

[Voidedstory]

What have I done?!

You have created a masterpiece!

[Talon and Thorn]

PD needs to suffer, really suffer, how can he do that to such a sweet couple?

We need Big Mac and Pinkie to turn up with a music system to serenade Cheerilee, she seemed rather impressed at the Pony Tone's concert even if that was Fluttershy.

[SFaccountant]

Pft, that's all he did to ruin the date? Make the silverware slippery?
Granted, it snowballed hilariously, but that wasn't even his intention. AND he didn't get away with such an innocuous plan, either.
D for planning, C+ for execution.
I'd grade his exit strategy too, but I have to be fair; there's no way he could have measured up to Pinkie's reality-violating powers.

[Flynt Coal]

Good chapter. Whatever's going on with Rainbow being unable to say that word is interesting; either this is an effect of her accident, or she's been brainwashed by the [LA LI LU LE LO]. And I wonder what Applejack would think about her brother speaking fancy.

[The Spy of the Tiger]

“Hey, it beats how everypony thought I was an orphan for some reason a few years ago when my parents were on some trip lasting months and I had to stay with my Aunt Mistral and Uncle Sundowner over in Easy Mark.”

Laying it on heavy with the references and memes here, I see.