Ponyville confessions

by Lunaexcelsior

A Red And Black Pegacorn

So I’m sitting there, tending bar, when in comes a pony I had never seen before.

He looked like an alicorn, but it was obvious he was simply a pegacorn, a unicorn that just happens to have wings. They look like alicorns, but their power levels aren’t even closely matched to the alicorns. Oh and he had mismatched eye coloration, one being yellow and the other green.

So he comes in and sits at my bar. I immediately notice how his mane seems to be covering one of his eyes and he looked quite depressed.

“What’ll you have kind sir?” I asked him.

“I’ll have the darkest most soul crushing drink your sheep heart can bleed out”, he said in a dark tone.

“One Coke coming right up”, I said and poured in his drink. He just flicked his mane and took the drink with his magic.

“This Coke is not more than an allusion of happiness in our dark existence”, he said in a deep tone. I just looked at him quizzically.

“Pfft, such a plebe”, he told me and turned his head away.

I wanted to smack that piece of disrespectful thrash right in his pretentious muzzle. He was really starting to dance on my nerves.

“So, where are you from?” I asked him.

“I am from a place where your precious princesses have no access to. A place that would drive a lesser mind to the depths of depravity and would chew weaklings like yourself until they were nothing more than a pile of mush”, he said.

“That’s nice”, I said, “And what’s your name?”

“My name is Obsidian Annihilation”, he said and struck a pose.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“I am performing the sacred lightning summoning pose”, he said waiting for a loud rumble. He stood there for a few seconds before finally
realizing that it’s not happening.

“Something must be interfering with my magic”, he claimed angrily.

“I am sure”, I rolled my eyes, “So, Obsidian, do you have a cutie mark?”

“Well of course”, he said, showing off his flank. There was some weird splotch in a shape of a rectangle inside of which was a circle. Oh and it was on fire, if you count sharp squiggly lines as fire.

“It’s the omen of Handuro, an ancient magic that was banned by Celestia herself for being too powerful”, he said proudly.

“No, I am pretty sure it’s just drawn”, I disagreed with him. I mean, I could see paint dripping off it very clearly.

“No, it’s not!” he yelled.

“Well, let’s see”, I said and took a glass of water. I spilled the water on his flank, causing the cutie mark, and a part of his coat to dtip down. He
quickly covered it with his tail. I just shook my head.

“How did you know?” he asked.

“Well first off, don’t use fresh ink for your cutie mark”, I said, “and secondly I have seen a dozen teenage colts like yourself acting in the same manner. Now go into that stall, take a shower and then come back here.”

“What if I don’t do that?” he protested.

“Then you’ll have to walk through the town with your tail covering your flank. Would you like that?” I asked. He sighed and went to the shower cabinet.

Five minutes later, a blue coated pegacorn with green mane and baby blue eyes came out. His flank also was revealed to be a writer’s quill. He sat down back at the bar.

“Welcome back, Obsidian”, I joked.

“Please, just call me Typewriter”, he said.

“Okay, Typewriter”, I said, “Why in Celestia’s good name would you dawn such a get up?”

“Well you see”, he began, “I am writing my very first dark work and I wanted to become my character. To act as he would in everyday situations and to see how ponies would perceive him. So far I had no luck”, he sighed.

“Well did you ever think it was his attitude that was the problem?” I asked.

“How can that be?” he asked.

“Well his gloom nature is very annoying”, I said.

“That’s only understandable”, Typewriter responded, “He’s been through a lot in his life.”

“Sure, but that doesn’t mean he has to be brooding all the time”, I replied, “You should let him have something small to be happy about. If he is just sad and contemplative about everything, it doesn’t make an interesting character. It makes a tedious nihilist who is about as interesting as a piece of cardboard”, I explained.

“But he carries great sorrow with him”, he justified, “His family was murdered years ago.”

“Still, doesn’t he enjoy anything?” I asked “Doesn’t he have something that keeps his sanity or cheers him up when he is down. Doesn’t he have friends that support him?”

“I guess, I could try with that”, he said.

“Oh and please lay off the dark and red color”, I said, “They are jarring at best and they reveal far too much.”

“Okay”, Typewriter said, “Anything else of note?”

“Yes”, I said, “Ease up with his powers. Seriously a ‘power Celestia hid away because it was too much’? That just bores the reader.”

“Got it!” Typewriter said, “Any other critiques?”

“Nope, that’s all”, I said.

“Thank you very much for your contribution”, Typewriter said and shook my hoof.

“Pleasure to help”, I replied as he handed me the money for the drink.

A year later, Typewriter wrote that book, but it didn’t do all too well. Apparently the critics liked it, but the masses were turned off by the main character. However, they did like his mismatched eyes, the one thing I forgot to tell him to change.

I felt bad for old Typewriter, but he did come up next one with a new story which the masses just ate up. It was something about some stupid rebellion. I thought it was not his best work, but hey, I am only a bartender, not a writer.

You see a lot of weird things as a bartender. You see a lot of weird things at the Hay Palace. So, I see a lot of weird things as a bartender at the Hay Palace. And that’s no lie. Swear on me mum

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