This Is Your Story!

by Mahayro

Three Mares (and Apparently Everypony Else in the World) Enter a Bar

Author's Note:

A recap of Chapter 13, for those who may need it:

Colgate woke up in the hospital a couple days after a heart attack--a permanent life-changing event. It seemed the pale unicorn brought her to aid; Carrot also accompanied her through the recovery. The pale unicorn gave the storybook to her upon her waking so that she might continue it. Carrot expressed her gladness at her return; they were both happy to be alive and together. Colgate wanted Berry, and the thought consumed her--even as she involuntarily remembered pieces of the evening that almost claimed her. The following day, Berry came and swept her off her feet to her cabin, just as Colgate was starting to face the reality and consequences of her being unknowingly drugged--apparently by the very tea she loved to drink. Clinging to Berry until she was dropped off there, she waited and hoped for Berry's return and the start of healing--even discovering the old picture and filling with optimism for a restored future together. Instead, Berry returned with the pale unicorn, dismissed the picture and her ignorance of it, and brought the ponies to the house's bedroom. There, what appeared to be a second round of interrogation quickly devolved to an unfettered drunken attack on the pale unicorn--who was given a strange foreign name by Berry and who seemed to register his situation but who did not or would not fight back. After Colgate explained what he'd confessed to and he responded to Berry's invitation to explain himself with merely a written "What?", Berry erupted and broke more and more of his body. As darkness fell both in the room and in the narrating Colgate's heart (they were all locked in there, much to her mortified surprise), Berry reached out to Colgate with one more profoundly pained plea to remember everything. After Colgate's inability to respond, Berry finally broke the resilient pale unicorn enough for him to scream from it. He soon passed out from the pain, which prompted a new fury in Berry--one which illuminated a new truth: that Colgate herself (or rather Minuette) had caused this extreme suffering in Berry, twelve years ago, by evicting her from their home--and that the pale unicorn's contribution was in removing Colgate's ability to know this. Sunny, also a victim in that eviction as an infant foal, was apparently witness to much of this scene through a hole in the wall; she burst in through the door, vainly attempting to stop the maniacal Berry from beating the unconscious pale unicorn, while Colgate's thoughts drifted to horrible places and she lost the will to write.

(The story isn't over after this chapter, of course; stay tuned for details on the continuation that has been my obsession for many months!)

"And that's the way it was."

Wasn't that the way it was?

I was so tired. My heart was about done. I didn't know if I could ever tell that story again. But I was sure he would listen, and he would care, and he wouldn't make me feel like the dirt on his heel--no matter what.

Big McIntosh would always hear me out. He would hear out anypony, and he would never say a word to anypony else. I'm so glad he agreed to come with me to the bar. I just couldn't go anywhere else. This is the only safe place in the whole town, it seems. Berry loves her drinking, but she'd never go to a bar anymore--too many bad experiences, too many reminders of the nightmare I put her through.

That's what it is--a nightmare. I've put it all together--last Friday, the previous chapters, everything. As much as I can, at least. I must've blanked out after Sunny stormed in. Maybe the whole truth really would kill me. I don't even mean that as a figure of speech. The bottle of pills I carry in my mane will always remind me how close I am to breaking my contract with Life.

Twelve years ago, I kicked her out. My failure at work must have cost me my job or at least a good deal of money--enough that I couldn't support her anymore. I left my closest friend out to dry when no one else would even give her the time of day--except those who would use her for favors. I'm sure that's why, anyway. But why in the world would I do that to her? And how?? I would've sooner left myself than let her and that filly of ours to suffer. It was my nightmare, and she suffered for it, and I can't even remember any of it.

And Berry's stayed by my side this whole time--in spirit when not in body. Anypony with half a brain would've left, no matter what good I was to her before. Is she an angel? (An angel of death, but still--maybe?)

I can't help but wonder if her version of events is wrong, too. Maybe I walked away from her for some reason--for a time, at least--and her own twisted mind led to this justification for hating the pale pony and somehow not hating me. But what could I have done to go so far from that picture of happiness with that innocent young filly?

Or was she the one who walked away??

I can't remember that day for myself, so I have to draw conclusions from the pieces. And I have to do it fast, before we inevitably meet again. Our lives are never going to be the same from here. If I get in a fight with her, though, that could be it. I'm delicate--so very delicate. I have to protect myself. But I don't want to do it with repression or whatever spell this is anymore. I wish I could stop. I'll put some notes in my apartment tonight--to remind me to read the book, to remind me of the truth of things--because I know it'll keep happening anyway. I'll still fight it. I have to start caring again, for my own good if nothing else.

Thank you, Big Mac. We may have made reckless love in a barn so many years ago, but you being here now means a million times more. I don't want you for pleasure--I need you to survive. I can sort of smile again. The numbness is starting to fade. Maybe at this rate, I'll even be able to go back to work next week. Thank you. Please allow me to turn to you if I falter again.

I had him read this--my last few thoughts on the matter I'd just confessed. He smiled and held his hoof out toward my writing hoof. He wanted the pen.

Have at it, big guy. (I mock-punched him in the cheek, and we just looked at each other warmly for a bit before I hoofed it over.)

red blades tilled wet soil
sun cooked the untended field
new straw grows no less

A mystery before; a mystery today. You're still beautiful, Big Mac. Never change.

We talked about nothing--or he let me feel comfortable talking about nothing, anyway. We laughed, we hugged, and we kissed, and goddesses so many tears. He even shed a couple, the gentlecolt that he was. He really knew my suffering on some level. He was never close to Berry, I don't think--but he could relate to how much she meant to me. How much she had meant to me.

Then we said goodbye. But I stayed here.

The barmaid came up to me from the counter, wanting me to order something. "I just had a blinking heart attack" wouldn't explain why I was still here. I asked for a mimosa and a moment to myself. A few sips shouldn't screw anything up with me. Just let me be, won't you please?

It's always been more Carrot's way to get all contemplative and self-evaluative. But maybe it should be old Queen Cole's turn at that today?

Nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnope!

It's just like I told her. Pick this mind of mine apart enough to make sense of it all, and pretty soon there'll just be a big pile of hayburgers and broken dreams up in there. HA. We're not even going there.

Maybe I should hang out in here more. It's fun getting to be the sober one, watching everypony else going on about their lives. Something to do now that I'll have to cut back on the mission business. I used to come here looking for missions, actually--but if there's one thing I've learned about bars in general, it's that folks don't come here looking for help (not counting the "help" you might get at the end of a successful date). Hay, they might already know exactly what help they need. They're just here to get away for a night. You don't go to a bar to get help, just like you don't go to a school to meet smart people. You could find what you're looking for, but that's not why it's there. This is where ponies chill--for widely varying definitions of the term.

Right now, I'm thinking about the knuckleheads at the dartboard. They order ridiculous amounts of cider and ale, then they get all aggressive with one another with their challenges and their acts of defiance. Everything's a competition to them. If you're not winning, you're losing. That attitude couldn't possibly be healthy, even if you are a young buck or mare and can handle it physically. You're just throwing it all away--and for what? You won't even remember what happened.

HAHA! But I'm the champion of not remembering! Maybe I could become a Princess of Forgetting someday! I could probably show them a thing or two--if I knew my ticker were back to full strength, that is.

Take this one chick--she wears a beret for pony's sake. Like she's gonna make me drop down and give twenty? The wrench cutie mark didn't really add to the whole bad-mare image either. Is she gonna repair me to submission or what??

And why am I acting so drunk? I've had like two sips of this, and I know alcohol doesn't interact with my meds.

Oh right--my empathy. I must be getting a contact drunk off of this whole bar. It's pretty busy, ponies keep coming in...this won't get any better.

Let's make the most of it!!

So here's Wrench Wench. She gets off on embarrassing others in hoof-wrestling contests. She just plops down with anyone she locks eyes with and makes them put 'em up. She spotted that Doctor Hooves guy and just crushed him. But then she went for bigger game. Cloudchaser? Boom, down. The veterinarian Mane Goodall actually gave a little bit of a fight, but she went down too. But then she bit off more than she could chew and took on the one with the war-hammer cutie mark. She had a light cocoa coat and a cream mane curled like Berry's, and it really complemented Wrenchie's own mocha coat and straight-hanging buttermilk. (Geez, I must be thirsty or hungry or something.) Anyway, Hammer Girl put Wrench Girl's hoof to the table so fast she practically knocked the whole kit over. Then the bar just laughed her right out of her skin. The loser actually looked pretty sorry. I began to wonder if maybe that wasn't the sort of game she played every day. But if she wasn't the bully, then what was she up to?

Moving on... Oh look, card games! They didn't look like your standard issue, though. They were all black and white. There was a buttload of laughter from that corner. The black pegasus Thunderlane looked like he was telling some really raunchy jokes. Kinda wish I could get closer to that...but Cole's staying put. No playing crazy games right now. Cole really, really shouldn't be here. But maybe she should be. So many good times--the only cure for her soul right about now.

This place is starting to get packed. I'm not going to be able to hold a table by myself for long. Maybe I should just get out.

I wasn't ready to yet, but I eyed the door anyway. And what to my wondering eyes did appear... It's Written Script! The hay is he doing here!? I waved him over and called out. Here he comes.

"What're you still doing around here??" I really was curious.

"And a fine evening to you, too." Then he let out a dry laugh before I could feel embarrassed and slapped me on the shoulder as he came around to seat himself.

"Want something?" I raised my drink to him to indicate I was offering.

"Well, sure, yes--I want to know what a sad injured mare like you is doing sitting by herself in a place like this."

It seems Ponyville has more than one mind reader right now. Hopefully this wasn't also the work of crafty unicorn magic.

He must've noticed I kind of freaked out there with that wild guess of his. "Look--there are beads all over the outside of this glass, telling me you haven't touched it in quite a while. You aren't anywhere near the bar counter, so you're not here to converse. As for the injured part? Look at your left forehoof again."

I was still wearing the hospital ID band. I thought only Carrot was supposed to be that oblivious. Well, I changed that in a skinny minute.

"So unless you're using that fancy book to journalize today's bar life...I'd have to say you just want to be left alone and would rather I just leave you be, contrary to your calling me in spontaneous recognition."

I sort of panicked. For some reason, I started thinking of the pale pony again. This silver indigo-maned fellow looked nothing like him, but that feeling of being known better than you know yourself...Celestia, no. Carrot said we violated her by drugging her to get her in a party mood. No. Somepony bluntly telling you who you are when you're not sure yourself, and being right--that is violating.

"I--I don't know. Just, please hold this seat. I know you're not gonna hit on me or anything. Just...don't ask me anything personal, alright?"

"Read you clear as crystal." Could he try not saying things like that?

I knew it was a short matter of time before he'd bring up the book. "Actually--there's something I'd like to read sometime. Some sort of a shared diary, I'm guessing?" (And to think he'd have the right to read it if it were?)

He was in no-filter mode today, as they say. This was all putting me a bit on edge.

"Hey. Script. Could you, just, please lay off your creepy deduction powers? I've had the mother of all bad weeks. This was mainly just because I know Carrot was looking for you, and maybe I can get you to her or something. And--"

Completely ignored all of that. "It's induction, dear lady." I don't think he was trying to come off haughty, but now I can see what Carrot sees in him. Conversational klutzes, the both of them. "And you can use me for whatever you like this evening. I'm just here to ride the wind wherever it takes me."

Goddesses, that would've been an amazing pickup line on insecure guys in my younger years. Guys like...

"Say, did you know Carrot back when he was Golden Harvest?"

"We met once, I told him what I did for a living, and he thought that was just the coolest thing ever and oh my goodness I should try that too. It was a pretty fateful encounter, if I may say so."

Huh--she never told me about that. I thought it was her idea. Not like her to lie...

"Alright...here's my little induction, then. Carrot would never say a word, but I can tell she has a huuuuuuuuge crush on you. She never tells us anything about you except that you need to go see her. I think she's afraid one of us will take you or something. And you did just offer yourself to me... I think I might just try to make things harder for her." A wink and a nudge--oh, it felt good to be in this game back in Ponyville again. Berry or no Berry, missions or no missions, weak heart or no weak heart--I should come more often.

He smiled back, but he wasn't giving up a lick of self-control. I do love the confident ones.

"You must have quite some lapse of good faith in your friend to say a thing like that."

Seriously!? No, it's not that! It's just...

"I'm being annoying again, aren't I?"

Yes!

He never broke his smile, though. That must be the real reason Carrot's got a thing for him. He's nutty, but he keeps it together. What I wouldn't give for her to keep a steady state of mind--and I don't count "reliably flipped-out angry" as stable.

I still kinda wanted him out of my mane, but I wasn't going to get any better offers for filling that seat. Well, unless Dr. Horsythe comes in--but that old prude probably wouldn't know a shot of whiskey from the contents of a bedpan. Plus, this guy wasn't bad on the eyes for such a hopeless cause. That tousled slick mane that half-concealed his horn... Those indecently sharp eyes, those thick firm ears...

Too bad he ruins it every time he opens his mouth.

"Script...now I'll make you an offer, alright? I know Carrot's gonna show you this book one way or another, so may as well get it out of the way now. I just ask one thing."

"And that is?"

"Shut the buck up and let a girl enjoy her night."

He flipped through the thing for maybe half an hour. Oh, the things I saw in that time, though...

Yet another girl with Berry's 'do (but with a turquoise motif instead)--she was rocking the karaoke machine. She did that one by A-Hay, the one that Berry used to do back when she was still dreaming of getting out of this town.

I remember so much that I don't want to remember. But I'll just have to roll with it. I've subconsciously kept an illusion so neat and tidy for so long. No more. I'll write a new story from the pieces of today. That's how this game goes now. You can't have my mind anymore, pale thing. I can't care what happened to you, either. You're Berry's problem now, not mine. Screw your song.

I also saw Aloe and Lotus, the spa ponies. They're pretty much the sex goddesses around here. They get whatever they want just by pulling up a chair--drinks, attention, guys breaking each other's noses, you name it. I don't know whether I should be disgusted or in awe. But if you have something exotic, then I guess you can make it work for you. So what is it--their fully-lashed almond eyes? Their unassuming noble-sounding foreign accents? The way they act like twins (though I have on good authority that they're not)? Or perhaps something the rumor mill hasn't slipped on to me about their after-hours habits. Or maybe they do things during hours. Maybe I need to get a hooficure there sometime. Ha!

Another strange face to see in here: sweet old Cheerilee. I know from way back when that she could give the guys a good run too, but this wasn't her style. She got all the face time she needed with divorced daddies on her way home from teaching at school. She was here waiting for...something. Not someone--she was just standing by the karaoke booth, not at a table or anything. (I suddenly remember that I never ever want to hear her do karaoke again. I don't remember why. That must be real repression at work.)

And who did I see walking up to talk with her but Carrot Top! She had on a brimmed hat and had most of her mane tucked in it, and she had a sort of overcoat on; but she couldn't hide from me that easily. I'll just let her be, though. Better for the both of us that way. I didn't want to be anywhere near her when she found out what Berry did. She was conflicted enough just trying to be my friend. This would probably make her split right in two.

I did stick out a bit. I could sure use a distraction of some sort...

Five minutes later, that's what I got. All Tartarus broke loose--the fun kind, not the fighty kind.

The bartender and his wife--a fully-built earth-toned Earth pony and a light lavender unicorn with no-nonsense eyes--called the whole building to attention. The bar radio cranked way up and--if I didn't know any better--they had commandeered the wavelength themselves. I'm pretty sure no station in Equestria played "Buck You, I'm Drunk" on a regular basis--especially followed by Andrew W. Neigh and Barenaked Hinnies. Some positive-sounding heavy metal--not quite like I remember, but more than good enough. They played some more unique stuff too--stuff of a modern electronic flavor I'm sure Carrot would get into. I wonder where they get that music. And there were a lot of drinking references. Sounds of the Highlands, spiced-up pirate shanties, and some things that were just right-out insane. My description can't do it justice at all. You really need to have been here.

What I can tell you, though, is how all the ponies gathered. While the bar "concert" carried on around a dusty tube radio, they all forgot the aggression; they forgot their troubles; they forgot the world outside and just swayed to the slow tunes and banged heads to the fast ones. You'd even see some dancing every now and then--drunken and irreverent as you please, of course. It honestly felt a bit wrong just to lurk back here. It was about when I had this thought that Script let the book go and went off to it himself. And that's how I got to writing this again.

That must be why Cheerliee was here. Wrench Pony and Hammer Pony forgot the contests and got into it, too. Carrot wasn't quite getting into it, but she was definitely watching. I was getting back to my senses, now that the bar was clustered away from me for the most part.

And...who was that cloaked figure? They looked like they wanted to get into it but were too afraid to be seen.

I've been such a wreck lately, but this pony looked like one in need, and I was feeling up to it. It was probably worth getting up for.

I tugged at that pony's dark cloak and got her to come over. She kept looking back at the scene. She really wanted to be a part of it, but something kept her with me. Whatever. More conversation, yay!

We sat down and I got a good look at her. Or at what I could of her, anyway, around those huge aviator shades she had on. They even had those slots on them--and I hadn't seen those since I was a mini-Minnie. The muzzle gave away the gender; it was quite pronounced and a lovely rich shade of light pink. And her horn--good gravy was she gifted in that department. The cloak's cowl could barely cover that!

I got things started. "So--what shall I call you today?"

"How about...Mimi."

So no personal questions, then. "Y'know, this is my first time seeing whatever the bartender's up to myself."

"H-how'd you know I've never been here before?"

I put a forehoof on the table toward her--but she kept hers tucked away. "Because you're not comfortable. I don't know--maybe you've never been in a bar your whole life, for all I know! But you could be doing a lot better--that's all I care about." I took my own upcoming advice and reclined in the chair, lowering my lids. And a taste of that warm mimosa--too warm now, all sweet and no fizz. (I had not been too worried about leaving that--I always use one of those straws that detects drink meddlers.) "Just relax a bit. Stay a while and listen, won't you? The devil won't be chasing you here."

Angels and devils. Religious talk. That's not really my thing, though--is it? Note to self: Check this out later.

I just continued looking at her. I couldn't see any sort of expression with all that garb on, but I think she was looking at me too.

"Care for a drink? My treat--"

"Oh no no no no no no. I--I shouldn't even be here. I just...wanted..."

I could feel a wistfulness. It wasn't just her voice--I could really feel it. I knew right then and there, somehow, that she needed to be here tonight. If I were in any other position myself, I would be taking advantage of this like a horny colt on Prom Night. But Cole is a mellow old mare now, not some party icon. The one who suffered for her sake gets to keep that occupation, at least.

Not quite placing what she was here for, I felt out the crowd instead. Dozens of ponies were now tightly circled around the bar counter. They'd taken to taking turns telling stories over the same speaker the radio was hooked to. The raunchiest adventures of Ponyville, shared for all rather than whispered from a neighbor--truly magical stuff. And whenever someone said something good, they all took a drink. (The bartender reminded the crowd a couple times, "Sips not shots!". This must be a long event if the bartender was telling folks to slow down.) So much laughter, and so many crazy reactions by the crowd. I swear they weren't just drunk--they were all in love with each other or something. But I'm pretty sure public orgies are still outlawed in Ponyville. Pretty sure.

"You feel it too, don't you?" the mysterious cloaked mare told me. "Sometimes the greatest love of all is in these little hole-in-the-wall type places." And I felt a hoof rest upon mine.

I glanced back at her. And I noticed that hoof was gilded.

Before I could react, I realized she had already floated the book a couple paces away. "Not a word...not to anyone. I was never here."

I was pretty sure I was sharing close company with an honest-to-goodness Princess. And while that did get my heart aflutter, I also understood her needs. I put my other hoof atop hers and simply smiled back.

"Your secret's safe with me, 'Mimi'."

She tugged her glasses down with her free hoof and tilted her head forward a little. Her rich violet eyes pierced me; I felt extremely naked, like she was looking at more than just the me that everypony else saw. For just a second, I was paralyzed--I couldn't do a thing.

And she mouthed three words.

Have faith, dreamer.

Touched by the Princess of Love.

Before things got too mushy, though, I noticed a very drunken buck climbing on the bar counter--a pegasus of all shades of orangeish-brown and sharp (if somewhat glassy) wide eyes. The bartending couple frowned but just let him carry on. He was holding the microphone with one hoof and a handle of whiskey in the other. The bottle looked quite a bit like his cutie mark. Clearly an economy-sized patronizer. So there's more than one career drunkard in this town too, fancy that.

Hm--I just noticed the cloaked mare had vanished, and the book was in my hooves instead. Hope you're well, Princess.

That gingery colt on the "stage" had a little bit of a slur--kind of cute, but his voice was so brash and loud that nothing could ever make "cute" the first word you'd call it. (Is that how I sound when I'm drunk?)

"Sooo, how's everypony feeling tonight?" They all whooped and hollered. The bartenders ducked for incoming thrown glasses and bottles, but I guess they hadn't gotten quite that far yet.

"Say, who's ready for some Power Hour!?" He held the mic to the crowd and they hooted and shouted and all that fun stuff. Okay, sure! How do I do Power Hour?

"You know the rules, guys--we're gonna play the best damn music in town. And every minute, take a shot of cider or beer with me! Every minute! Don't lemme see any of you buckers puss out on me!"

And the lavender barmistress hovered up a tray with dozens and dozens of little empty shot glasses on it; she passed them out to the crowd with a series of glows. The stragglers in the circle who weren't already following were now coming up to the counter to pony up for a mug or a bottle.

A university kids' game, in a bar!? Goddesses, the owner here must be rich. What a racket!

Sure enough, some of the patrons got a bit nervous or intimidated. Maybe they didn't want to drink that much, or maybe that wasn't even why they were here. Quite a few of them sat back down. The bouncers--a buff green-maned white unicorn and a poofy-auburn-maned yellow Earth pony--came up from the door around to the tables and appeared to assure the not-so-empowered ones that they were fine. A couple of them even went back into the crowd without anything in hoof. (Perhaps this drinking game is all part of some grand charade. Alcohol is never really the point of anything good, after all.) And so a piece of progressive rock gently filled the air, bringing a warm rush of emotion--and the crowd at the counter got to drunken gabbing as the boozer MC literally called the shots.

I looked out to the tables again--easier to scan now. This one tall and lonely young buck caught my attention. It wasn't the fact he was drinking booze out of a jar. It wasn't the fact that he was wearing shades in a bar--not for concealment purposes, anyway. It was that shade of blue. His coat, that shade of not-quite-aqua blue, with a tuft of dirty blond spilling out over the top. It reminded me so much of a condom!

I wonder if he's up for a rubbing up with dear old Colgate? ...Oh dear, I'm going to get "drunker" as this Power Hour game goes on. I'm probably going to end up over with him tonight. Just hold out as long as I can.

Also--sweet Celestia, this makes me a cougar, doesn't it?

I was going to drink this mimosa even if it killed me. All morbid jokes are officially on the table--don't hold back, anypony!

Well, you know what? Nothing slayed me quite like the next sight I saw stomping through that door. It was none other than Octavia Melodia, cellist extraordinaire, straight from the grandest theaters of Canterlot to this dump. I suppose my previous company was technically a bigger deal, but this lady wasn't hiding from anyone. And boy, were her eyes burning.

She didn't need to say a word. The reason she was here--her apparent date for the night--trotted gingerly toward her. Ah, The Bad Mare with a Beret. She moved confidently, but there was some nervousness there. I'm not sure if she realized how many ponies from the crowd were watching her as she made her first move, right in the middle of the open floor.

"You grace me with your presence, madam. I thank you so much for coming this far. Will you not join me in the local..." She stumbled briefly. "Cultural experience?" Bits to Gala tickets says she's never spoken like that to anypony in her life.

I barely heard a voice over the music, in the back of the crowd. "Yeah, get to wrestlin' already!" A bunch of cheering laughs and a couple jeers followed. There were probably some obscene gestures among them too, but I wasn't looking too much at that.

Wrench Pony's ears parted for a second, but Octavia's response put that worry aside. "I shall." Up went her muzzle. "For now." And that's how they ended up taking a table, close to the crowd but not in it. Bar life went back to normal as they went about their business.

And I just listened to the rapturous music as the awkward love bloomed.

Why can't I get past it? I just keep going back to these same dreary thoughts. I've been miserable...for so long. I'm not exactly sure why...but something about my old relationship with Berry was weird. Very, very weird. And now that I've come back here in the first time since forever, not a single pony's bothered me this evening that I didn't flag down first. I mean, I kind of asked for that, but still--am I not attractive anymore? Am I not a sweet young mare anymore? Is it that obvious?

Where did my life go? Did I ever have a life?

I CAN'T REMEMBER...BUT I DON'T WANT TO...I JUST WANT TO GET BY.

For me, that probably means becoming another bitter old gossip. When you can't find love, you make others regret it. The rumor mill. The whispers in the dark. And I know a little bit about half of everypony around here. I'm practically tailor-made for the role. Yep, that's me.

Buck mimosas, I'm getting a Hurricane.

"Guess who's back, bitcheeeeeeees!"

No. Berry. Leave me alone.

I'm under the table. Nopony can see me.

Berry, just go. There's nothing for you here.

"The owner of the biggest bar tab in all of Equestria?" went the brown bartender.

They all laughed. Laugh her out of the bar. Laugh her out of everywhere. Just laugh her away.

She chucked a bag at the counter. I heard coins spilling everywhere and a bottle crash onto the floor.

Power Hour was still going. And Berry marched right up to the MC guy on the counter. Away from me.

"Hey look, ever'un!" Oh no, she was already real drunk. "Is lil Granddaddy Bitch righ here, innit! Ows wine work goin for ya? Oh wait--you wouldn' know cuz you left! Stupid lil buck ain' worth shit!" She pushed the guy, and he almost went right off the counter, but he kept up. He got a bit mad and tried to push her right back, but she ducked out of the way.

I heard the bodyguards get up from the door. But the bartender fellow held up his hoof and he spoke.

"This isn't just about the money, Berry. You really gotta clean up your act. Come on, let's go back and have a chat."

"Horseshit! You couldn' talk that stanky ole coot outta buckin' a dead mule!"

Everyone turned to look at a dried-up black cherry elder stallion coming out of the corner by the back rooms. Goddesses, he looked older than the hills.

That had to be Sauce Dixon--or Uncle Saucy if you're Berry. The foulest pony in town by a country mile. He aged terribly. I swear, ten years ago he didn't look anything like that.

Berry was still there. She didn't want to look at him but she turned her head a little bit.

"Whaddaya want ol nag?"

"I wan a piece o yer sorry-ass hide fer the fillies to--"

Oh no. I'm not writing that.

He chewed her out right there in the bar. Right in front of everypony. He wrecked her right in public. And she wouldn't fight it. She just wouldn't fight him. He said the worst things but he was in the right. Berry had abandoned him once already--maybe more than once. He just destroyed her. It got so nasty that a couple of bucks in the crowd actually looked a little ill. It was bad. I've heard it all before, but my goddesses.

Finally the bartenders stepped up together and confronted the old guy. But he took his leave without their saying anything.

And right as he was stepping out the door, he threw one last barb. "My time's a-comin'--so's yers, ye filthy flap-flake!" The hay's a flap-flake?

I feel dirty for even having heard all that.

And then Carrot came out of the crowd and hugged and cried and everything on Berry.

And everything went back to normal.

This is normal now. This is normal.

Power Hour ended. The crowd stayed put. And they sat there. For hours at the edge of the bar counter, just chatting with each other. Once I realized I was off the radar, I got back up. But it wasn't over. They were there for hours. Berry and Carrot. They just talked forever while the crowd behind them worshiped the radio star. I couldn't leave. There was something going on and I just had to know. But I didn't have any way of getting close unnoticed.

After messing up my hair to look as non-Colgate as possible, I thought about my options...but there just wasn't any way I could get up there myself.

Perhaps I should just ride the wave of music for a bit. It was getting a bit too random to follow even semi-sober (and the insane crowd requests didn't help)--but still, the bunch's reactions were pretty cute. Some food might tide me over--something to pick at and keep my hooves busy. I didn't see any indication that food was served here. Wonder if you could order a pizza in here?

I saw Condom Boy getting up to the restroom. Crazy idea. I switched over to sit by where he would be returning. You're going to help me. You're going to help keep me safe while I dive into Berry's secret life. Better lock the doors and close the blinds, if you know what I mean...

He took a while. I just watched Berry, seeming in a better mood, point at Octavia and Wrench Pony and say something to the bartender. She ended up with a strange blue-violet drink I'd never seen before--oh, looked just like what Octavia just ordered, actually. Then she put her hoof over it. I'd seen her do this trick before. No, Berry. They didn't ask for it.

She shouted, using her not-so-drunk voice again. "Hey! I lost my pictures! Hey guys! I think I lost some photos! I dropped them, I think! They're my photos of me, and Big Mac, and Trixie, and...the Cakes, and Spike's big brother...uh, Ramrod! They're very very personal! Please don't look at 'em! Just help me find them!"

Goddesses, how dense were they?

While basically the entire bar other than Octavia and myself flew into a picture-finding frenzy, Berry snuck over and swapped the master cellist's drink while she looked in disgust at Wrenchie and the crowd.

Then Berry got back to her chair and said, "Oh, found them. Sorry." There was a bit of groaning.

A couple minutes later, Octavia stood up from her stool, huffing at the poor gal she'd spent the evening and now some of the night with.

"I thought you knew what went into an Aviation cocktail! Did you really think you could substitute bianco vermouth for Mareaschino liqueur!? And to think you would ever know a thing about refinement! This...is the final straw! Hmph!" Oh wow, Berry could've done a lot worse than that.

The last thing I heard between the two was a harsh string of words that couldn't have been common Equestrian. Octavia didn't have to act so refined when nopony else could even understand her. If Carrot were into tabloids, she'd be gobbling this up.

The music was getting chill. Everyone was getting chill. The MC guy had taken over as the closer bartender, I guess.

And here's the blue guy. Seemed a bit lost in himself, but I got his attention with a winkity-wave before he sat down.

"What do you want?" he said.

Crank that flank, girl. (Too bad we weren't in a booth together.) "I want...whatever you want, sugar bear."

"And what if I just wanna enjoy the night?"

I flashed my choppers. Nothing beats a smile from ole Queen Cole.

"Fine by me. Just until the bar closes...or the whole night?"

"Well, probably I should be getting to sleep after this."

Crank it up! "Oh, I can understand that... Maybe I could help you. Think you could help me with a little something first?"

"Ehh...probably not."

I was not ready for one of these kinds of ponies.

I noticed Carrot and Berry were getting a bit agitated with one another. Hm, maybe I blew my chance already.

"Oh--well, nevermind then, uh, whatever your name is--"

"It's Consommé. As in the soup."

Guess I would just go for broke with the guy. "Consommé--that's such a lovely name you have. A verrry...savory name. Are you sure you wouldn't want a warm body to...consommé-te your night?"

He smiled a bit, still not looking at me, looking down at the table into his depressing little world instead. "Oh, thanks--but my family dog likes to sleep with me quite a lot. She's the best to hug when it gets all damp and rainy out and you don't wanna leave your bed and you just wanna stay under the covers and--mmm!"

Does this bucker not know what sex is? I think he doesn't know what sex is. And ewwww, don't mention the dog again.

"So then! What brings you all the way out here on a dark and lonely night like this?" His hooves were crossed on the table, and I slapped mine on top. The Sun as my witness, I was going to take him home with me.

"Oh...not much... Hoping I could get a job in this town. Too many cooks where I'm from. They don't serve much food in here, though. I dunno..."

Here we go.

"Well? Maybe you could try cooking for me. You impress me, I can hook you up with whoever you need to know in Ponyville. You could say I have my hooves in...a lot of pies... So, you think you could hook me up with something first?"

"Oh, sure. What kind of thing are you into? Maybe you'd like my puff pastry? Or perhaps more in the mood for cannoli? I've had some success with my stuffed eggplant... Hey--where are you going?"

They were both going into the restroom. Together. They had something they wanted to talk about, and this was my chance to get in on it. No help required. No protection needed.

I'll get back to you, blue boy. I'll get the stuffing out of you one way or another.

I caught up writing that while I had my ear on the wall by the restroom. Carrot and Berry were in there for a while, and the lights had gone low and some of the crowd cleared as closing time neared; not a pony spotted me.

They finally got close enough to the wall for me to hear.

"--the way to treat her! How could you!?"

"Thish ain yer figh hun. Jush...shtopit." Berry normally hid her night tiredness very well. Not often I got to hear her drift off like I so often do. It compounds with her drunk level.

"I don't care whether it's my fight! It has to be somepony's fight...and nopony's looking out for her anymore."

They were talking about me.

"Maybe you ain heard me!" There was a pause and I heard some hooves shuffle on the floor.

"Whoa! Berry, I can hold my own, you know. Don't be picking a fight, now."

Shut up, Carrot, shut up. She could kill you if she wanted. She's like a supernatural-level brawler. Don't even try. Please. Just take it back now. Please.

They both paused, and then I heard Berry laugh out loud. "Guesh 'ey din cut yer marbleshoff after all! Haha!" It sounded like she was slapping Carrot on the shoulder or something, suddenly totally happy again.

"Berry...I know this isn't the best time to talk about it. But I'm dead serious. You know how--" This part went low and mumbly and I couldn't make it out. Come on, Carrot! Speak up for yourself!

"--and she doesn't even know what happened to the house? Berry, she's forgetting everything! Even when her own mentor comes visit her in her own home! If it so much as makes her think about being happy in the past, she just blocks it out. Remember what you told me about myself, what I was like before the rave? Can't even be happy without being sad?"

"Berry forgetsh lotta shtuff too, shpesh'ly when she go' bit drinky. Know'm ah mean?"

"But you're the key to all this, hun!" Weeping windigoes, nopony said "hun" to Mama Berr. Not even me.

Berry sighed...happily. And then Carrot did. They were--they were kissing!

Don't think about it, Cole. You're on a mission now. You're saving your life. Besides, Carrot deserves to be happy too. I don't know. Just hurry up and talk some more already!

Berry spoke up first. "Carrot...ye grown up sho much since I knew ye. Maybe ah was jush fibbin when said you's all better now, caushe jush wanted ye to try be happy fer real. Prime the pump, yknow. Housewrmin time's bess time fer that." I heard their lips smack again. "But I don' need fancy lines n'more. Don' work on you ayway. You know't all girl. Cep bou me... I think's time you get t'know me...real well."

There was another shuffle of hooves, like someone getting pushed off-balance. "Berry--I don't wanna know anything about you except why you won't come clean with her! Just tell her the past yourself! How hard is that!? How in Equestria is that so hard a concept?"

"An' how many times I gotta shay--" That time she connected with something on Carrot--probably a hoof. Carrot cried out just a little. Berry's cheer had given out in a hurry. "How many timesh I go'a shay it'sh go'a be her? It's go'a be her!?"

Carrot sounded a little different. I think she had caught one in the jaw. "It's really that hard? Remind her of who you were to her and how that changed over time? Give her a taste of what she's been wanting--what she's really been craving on the other side of this double-life of yours...for years and years? Don't you want that for her--no matter what she's done to you?" After a pause, she practically screamed with passion--"Hasn't she suffered enough!?"

It was silent. Too silent. I could imagine the staredown. Everything else fell away from me.

Thank you, Carrot. Keep trying. Be my heart in these trying times.

"Carrot...she doesn't bucking like mares."

That's what this is all about? Huh?

I just hit on like three mares last week. It was at the bar. It was in this bar. One of them was named Jonagold or something like that? Oh wait no, I met her at the laundromat. She helped me with change for the machines. I've always had an issue forgetting to bring change to the machines. And then I saw the other girl at the wedding last week--or no, last month was it? It was when we got attacked by the Changelings. I think she got me some fruit punch when Berry was gone. No, last week was when I met Twilight and I accidentlly. wait no that was Carrot, I read about that, that wasn't me. I was the one who hit on this blue mare who looked like a condom and that was funny oh she's there right now! But that's a guy Cole. no, the time was i left my door open and this beautiful young mare stepped in her eyes were like diamonds, and everyone was taking pictures of her and it was Rarity and why was she in my room stop it! No it was Cherry berry, not my berry but cherry berry, i was teasing her because she had a coat on and it was cold and dark and that was flutery and there were hingsan dm m%(@*%

DAMMIT COLE Why did you leave this book in a bar? A bucking bar!?

You want someone to find all our dirty little secrets? We have to keep this to ourselves now.

And what the hell is this other crap you're writing over here.

Oh, shit.

READ THIS

Jams, I know it's been you all night in carryoaky. Don't need to hide from me, no use trying. Take off that ugly green shit, couldn't you have picked something better? We gotta talk. YOU OWE ME.

---

Dear Diary,

I had to take Colgate to rehab today. When she didn't show up to work today, her boss sent someone out to check her out--and when they knew what had to be done, they came to me.

She was passed out on a teapot. The whole floor was drenched in the stuff. Sugar cubes melted into it and made everything nasty and sticky. And I had to pick her up in the middle of all that. I hauled her from there to the clinic on my back. She tried to wake up, but I didn't understand anything she said. Hauling my shell of a friend to help was one of the hardest things I've ever done. I'm pretty sure she registered that it was me, but... She did nothing to deserve this...nothing.

I'm facing a possible future where the BGs don't exist anymore, and I had no idea how much that thought would trouble me. It's just three of us--three mares. It's quite silly to get attached to the concept of just three ponies being a part of a group. We don't fight crime. We don't entertain the masses. We don't perform any particularly unique function to the community. We just live our lives together. It just happens to have a level of synergy I wasn't expecting at first.

Berry has been quite open about her interest in "synergizing" with me, but this is absolutely not the time. It's perfectly understandable that she would need comfort in a time of grief. She just has an exceedingly odd way of grieving or something. I won't oblige her on quite that level until I have some evidence that Cole is making some sort of recovery--just so I can feel like I haven't just lost a part of myself in her. Just thinking what she's done for me by helping me see and care for the town, more even than what Written Script has done... But it could be weeks or months before any indication of progress.

As for her past...I simply have no words. I would have lost my mind, too. Berry must be even more insane than she is for running with it. I now have a new mystery to unravel.

I still don't know where Falcon Glider fits into all of this. He's Sparks' and Planter's dad; but as I just confirmed last night, he just hasn't been a part of their lives since a little after I first got to know Cole.

I'm sorry, Berr. I'm going to meet with Script tomorrow and get to the bottom of this, whether you like it or not. The damage is already done. You can't blame me for what happened to her. For that matter, why are you even upset!? The charade took its toll on you, too. Now you can just forget about it. Or--well, maybe just not worry about it like it matters.

I can't think about much else right now. At least I'm not a total basketcase. It must be the cuddling and the margaritas. I would've never guessed how great of a cuddler you are.

~Carrot Top

---

Well too bucking bad Carrot, you're not getting to the bottom of nothing. You fell for ole Berry's punch again. Sleep tight!

It's time you went on a little trip with me.

Your bags are packed. Your passport's ready. I got your ticket right here.

You're gonna love this.