L'Hotel des Animaux

by SwordTune

Opalescence

Rarity can go to Manehattan all week, see if I care. The Hotel of Animals, a place far better than that boutique she spends all her time. It was stylish, of course, but day after day it was all the same things! I needed a change of scenery.

The ladies at the counter showed the owner knew true class. Cats, all of fine stock, greeted the numerous guests daily. I could tell they were tired, for even my presence did little to better their mood. I checked in to my suite on the top floor: close enough to the surface for an exquisite window outside. With the new sanctuary behind Fluttershy’s cottage, the natural view was far better than it had ever been.

Another thing I adored about the hotel: its staff. The poor rats and mice who carried my bags quivered at my sight. I have been here three times and not once have I stooped so low as to eat a putrid creature, at least not one that hadn't been seasoned overnight and roasted over a maple fire.

And of course, the room was absolutely exquisite. The security was avante-garde, locking each suite with a crystal that recognized the guests’ pawprints. Inside, there were perfumed furniture in the living room and a very modern kitchenette to the side. A projector on the ceiling aimed its gaze onto the screen across from the couch. A movie projector, just like the ones in the theatres that always ban loyal pets from entering.

And though the projector was high up, the brilliant architect of the hotel made sure to add function to the fabulous form of the room. A series of scratching posts, each one growing taller, reached up to the projector. Tailor-made for a nimble cat to climb up and insert a film of her choice.

But, movies would be for later tonight, with fried and battered fish and chips, maybe a dash of catnip on the pipe too, if I was up for feeling a little wild. For now, it was the spa for me. The mice left by bags by the closet, and I tipped them with a bit of cheese Rarity had left lying inside the fridge at home.

I took the stairs back down, the spa was at the lower levels of the hotel where its saunas could hold in the most steam. It sounded tempting, but steam meant hours of pruning later, and I had my own way that no other stylist could ever get right. I lifted a hot towel off a rack by the door to the spa, but then I smelled it. Oh heavens, no.

"Sorry, ma'am, for the mess. Just ran here off the farm, y'see." What was that dust-covered hound doing in a place like this? Her owner was an earth pony, did she even know what that meant? Their name meant dirt! She couldn't just pop-in to a place like this.

I sauntered up to Winona and challenged her head-on. I wasn't about to let her ruin my-

"Oh, pardon me Opalescence, I don't suppose you could tell me where I check in 'round here?"

"Of course darling." I pointed her to the counter of cats. "Right there's the reception desk."

"Is that what them squiggly letters say?" She barked an adorable high pitched laugh. "No wonder I'm more lost then a termite after a nuptial flight."

Oh fine, so we were friends. Our ponies were colleagues, after all. It'd be unseemly if I let her face the challenges of pampered life on her own. She didn't have much on her, a small sack on her back was it. Checking-in would take but a minute, a short enough time for me to wait for her so we could enjoy the spa as friends were meant to.

"Well, do hurry on dear. I should have to help you settle in around here, so before you dare enter your room, it'd be prudent to follow me to the spa once you get your guest card."

"Shucks, that's mighty kind of you, Opal," she thanked me. Of course she did, after all, I was sacrificing my precious time to help her relax the proper way.

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I will admit, despite her quaint accent’s diminishing amusement, I rather enjoyed a spa day with a friend. Winona was too much of a country bumkin for her own good, but she was far better company than that darling Fluttershy’s devil of a rabbit.

Angel, what a name. If my back wasn’t so relaxed and my muscles weren’t still softened from the full-body massage, I’d throw a fit just thinking about him on the way back to my room. To my surprise, Winona followed me up to the luxury suites.

Like most hotels that ponies used, the Hotel of Animals went from bottom to top, but the owner of the hotel had the mind to build the hotel underground, in a hill just beyond the farthest edge of Ponyville. The bottom floor was the base of the hill, while the top floor reached the surface at the top. Being at the top, the luxury suites and the business suites just below were the only ones who could get sunlight.

“Oh boy that iguana knew how to work out those muscle knots, didn’t he Opal?”

“He was a monitor lizard, sweetie. And yes, it was quite refreshing.”

“Huh, I wondered why his stripes weren’t like the iguanas I’ve seen before. So, what should I do next?”

“I’m not sure, I don’t really know how you managed to afford a luxury suite in the first place.”

“Oh, that’s easy. Owlicious said he had spare invites, so he put my name down on the guest list instead of himself.” She barked a hearty countryside laugh. “I only found out this morning, y’know?”

“Yes, well, in any case, dinner will be ready soon.” We stopped by the door to my suite. “Inside your suite, the staff should have left a little menu by the bed. The hotel has seven dining rooms dedicated to luxury guests, each with a chef and a speciality. You won’t be choosing your meals once you enter one of the dining rooms, it’s the chef’s job to impress you.”

Winona’s tail, now exceptionally groomed, lowered to the floor. “Oh, well, sounds like a choice I don’t know much about. Uh, in case I can’t decide, reckon I can tag along with you?”

I wanted to hiss at her to make some choices for herself. I couldn’t believe a can-do pony like Applejack would have a dog who fell apart at the sight of just one menu. But, not every animal was made for comfort, and if Rarity had enough heart to be generous, then I did as well.

“I can’t be sure I won’t change my mind, they never serve the same thing twice, you see, but Room Six is where Chef Luckyfoot always serves his food. It’s impossible to go wrong with him.”

For some reason, Winona started giggling. “I guess you could say, I’m plumb lucky to have you around.”

I didn’t know what to say. Was that a joke?

“Uh, you know, because his name’s Luckyfoot, so it makes me lucky?”

Sweet Celestia, it was. Winona was trying to make a pun. I quickly turned around and unlocked my room with a scan of my paw. I had to get away before I acted rudely and rescinded my invitation for her to join me for supper.

“Well, much to decide,” I rushed into my suite, though I couldn’t close the door quite yet without reminding Winona of a crucial matter. “And do remember to dress well for the occasion, darling. You’ll be dining with me, it just wouldn’t do for you to look out of place.”

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There was a single long table brought the whole luxury guests together. Part of the vacation was to get away from the daily shut-in life of pets and finally meet new animals. Cats, dogs, and birds from notable ponies came to the Hotel of Animals to hear the kind of gossip that never gets caught by journalists.
“Oh my, I think I’m underdressed, Opalescence,” Winona said as soon as she followed me into the dining room. “All I have is this dress Rarity gave Applejack for me to wear.”

I took a second run-down of her outfit. A year or so ago Applejack wanted to put Winona in an “Apple Family Pet Show.” I wasn’t sure that was a thing, but I thought it was marvellous and advised Winona to accept the position of a model, post-haste.

But, pets aren’t exactly Rarity’s area of expertise, and the dress wasn’t her best work. Don’t get me wrong, it was a gorgeous masterwork as all her designs are, I wouldn’t put up with her if it wasn’t the case, but the black was rather formal, not very fitting for a member of the Apple family. However, when your competition is a mangy coyote that Braeburn thinks he can pass as a pet, you didn’t need to get everything right.

I patted dear Winona on the head. “You’re not likely to meet a lot of new animals with such a formal look, but it’s fine. A strong farm dog like you should be respected.”

“Aw, but I don’t wanna be seen as unfriendly or anything,” she stammered, “m-maybe I should just change into something else.”

“Nonsense.” I just knew I had to stay strong and guide her through the visceral world of high-class presentation. “I can assure you, anything else you brought from your closet will make you absolutely unpresentable. So just wear a big smile and take a seat.”

“You’re right, I should just--hold on, what do you mean ‘unpresentable?’”

“Just fancy banter, sweetie.” I pushed her along before she changed her mind. I had to. “Pay no mind to it and enjoy the supper.”

I had us sit as close to the head of the table as possible. I recognized a few swans from the Canterlot Royal Garden sitting near the front, followed by a terrier who belonged to the representative of Manehattan in Celestia’s court.

Down the pecking chain a whole pride of Saddle Arabian cats, exotic and petite things that were in fashion among Vanhoover’s “Gold Standard” food scene. The poor things looked starved by their picky food critic owners, though I was sure none of them cared to admit it. Egos as big as Rainbow Dash, those ones.

If only their waists could take a little of that size, they’d actually look healthy. A proper cat such as myself knew how to work a few extra pounds into her fur and figure.

Finally, sitting across from us, there was a raven from Moondancer’s zoology phase. That bookworm wasn’t much to talk about, but many of her former pets made good lives for themselves as activists for poorly kept pets. As a raven, I figured he had plenty of songs to sing about her obsession with books over living things, ponies or otherwise.

A clink chimed from the door to the kitchen. A tall mouse in a tuxedo ushered out a line of waiters who filled out glasses with white wine and thin slices of salmon dipped in herbs and olive oil.

“For the appetizer tonight, the chef has paired rosemary and thyme in olive oil with lightly braised layers of salmon. For the soup, a chowder of mushrooms with squares of veal. You will then sample wild-caught freshwater crayfish that have been peeled and roasted in butter and garlic and a dash of lemon. Your salad tonight will be spinach and artichoke with eggs and warm bacon dressing.”

Winona nudged my leg and pointed to our appetizers. “Sweet Celestia, this is better than most of the meals I’ve ever had!”

“Good, isn’t it?” I kept my eyes on her but both ears trained on the mouse butler.

“And as usual, Chef Luckyfoot’s asks that you wait for your main course to be revealed only when it comes. He doesn’t want to ruin your appetites with the anticipation.”

Another clink of glass and the waiters all scurried back into the kitchen. The butler stayed in the dining room, ready to take special requests or hear the complaints of the guests.

A live chorus of songbirds perched over us in the rafters, singing pieces from this year’s greatest classical performances. They were nice and all, but I had to admit to myself, I was more of a fan of popular music than the classics. Canterlot pets always raved when their owners could perform classics on the cello, piano, and so on, but as a young feline, I was more than happy to embrace the progress of music.

But that was neither here nor there. I enjoyed the dinner and to my surprise, Winona managed to pace herself with her food. I half-expected, no, I completely expected her to swallow up her food, but instead, I caught her casting glances to the pets around us for queues on how to eat.

We chatted with the raven and a few of the cats, listening to a harrowing tale of how Moondancer very often forgot to attend to her pets whenever she found an interesting book. I, of course, kept quiet about the fact I knew the pony responsible for her mental break. Such details were best left out of polite conversation.

“Reckon I won’t be able to eat another bite after this next one,” Winona finally told me once we had finished our salads. Her dress, which was fitting but flowing at the start of the evening, had bulged out at the sides.

“Hang in there, dear, wouldn’t want to miss out on the dessert.”

“Wait, what’s for dessert?”

“Mango pudding from the Changeling Kingdom.”

She closed her eyes in fear. “Oh no. I dunno if I can make it.”

The waiters came out and carried the main course on a single large plate. They bore its weight on a plank of pine wood, the skillet still steaming hot.

“The chef has prepared the main course tonight with roasted almonds and walnuts in a combination of red wine marinade and dry spice marinade. This dear monitor lizard comes to you on a bed of dark leafy greens and pillows of the extra veal from today’s chowder, all topped lightly with salt, pepper, and paprika.”

“Well, how about that.” I certainly didn’t expect my luck to turn out so well. Winona, on the other paw, had a strange look about her.

“What’s the matter?” I leaned in to check if she was doing okay. “You’re not having reservations just because it’s a reptile, are you?”

“Opalescence, I don’t know how to tell you this,” she turned and nearly frightened the hairs off my back with the glare in her eyes, “but I recognize those stripes. On the back, I saw them-”

“Oh hold on, the butler’s about to cut into the first piece.” It was put on a plate and served to the head of the table, Cano, a royal hound in service of Princess Luna’s very own guard. He was the best bloodhound in the nation, they said, and his nose made him exceptionally picky about his food. If he didn’t approve of the meal, it wouldn’t be fit to be served to the rest of the table.

But I trusted in Luckyfoot’s work. The hound pulled off the crisp skin and exposed the rich ribs underneath. The smell alone was mouthwatering, so when Cano bit into the meat and gave a wag of his tail, the rest of the guests broke their silence and eagerly waited for the waiters to fill their plates with the dish.

Unfortunately for my evening, Winona had some sort of vital matter to discuss, vital enough to shake my shoulder and wrinkle my sapphire-blue evening dress.

“Opal, y’can’t eat it, please!” She begged me in a whisper. “I saw them stripes on that lizard back at the spa. He’s the one who gave me the massage!”

“I know, it’s hard to wrap your feelings around it.” I had to comfort Winona with whatever her issue was, but it was hard to concentrate with the plate nearing our section of the table. “It’s a shame such a talent had to be so depressed, but I’m sure he had his reasons. At the very least we had the privilege to see him before his last supper.”

“What are y’all on about, we can’t eat someone we know!”

I had enough, the main course had nearly reached us. I dug my claws into Winona’s paw shoving me. “Enough, darling. You’re a dog, and you’ve had plenty of fish and veal this evening. What does it matter if it’s a monitor lizard?”

“But we talked about our homes. He moved out of the Ponyville pet shop to Dodge Junction and joined a little filly’s family on her birthday. He was her best friend for seven years! Opal, meat for food is one thing, but this ain’t necessary. It’s killing for pleasure.”

“Oh, finally!” I couldn’t help myself when the slice of the breast was laid out with the veal and almonds. I removed my claws from Winona and bit into the juicy meat.

“Darling, listen,” I swallowed a mouthful before I could stand to lecture Winona. I pointed to the plate. “These good folk have their reasons to give up their lives, and the Hotel ensures they pass without pain. It’s a shame he had to work to earn his last supper, but if you’re worried about the treatment, I’m absolutely certain he enjoyed his meal with the manager.”

“Meal with the--Opal, y’ain’t listening to me!”

“Your plate won’t be nice if you let it cool too long.”

“I ain’t about to eat someone I talked to this morning!” I held my tongue, but she was being rude, turning her whispering into growling.

“That’s a complaint for the manager, sweetie. I’m sure he has something to compensate for the inconvenience. I don’t know him personally, but I hear he’s a very generous host and a legendary cook. He hosts dinner with seven guests every night.”

“Seven.” Winona’s eyes widened, looking at her plate. It seemed she finally appreciated how rare of a meal she had in front of her.

“There are seven dining rooms, ain’t there Opal?”

All I could do was nod, my mouth was full.

“And they serve seven dinners like this every night?”

I paused between bites and looked over at her. I knew she could count, why was she so slow to figure it out? “Shadow Spade herself couldn’t be more perceptive. Seven one-of-a-kind meals, darling. It’s shouldn’t be that hard to feel grateful.”

Winona stared at my plate, then hers, before mumbling something under her breath.

“What’s that, darling? I couldn’t quite--”

“I said,” she barked sharply as if she struggled to contain her voice, “they’re murderin’ seven pets every day. How can you be a part of that?”

I wanted to remind her, once again, that luxury meals at the Hotel were sourced from willing providers, and they weren't always all pets. But Winona stood up before I could and stormed out of the dining room.

I called out to her, trying to bring her back. “You know, that’s incredibly rude.” But she didn’t listen. “Can I at least have your plate?”

I could feel the raven staring at me from across the table. “Is there something wrong with the wine, or would she just prefer her Blood Mary?”

I glared at what the bird passed as wit. “Spare me you juvenile innuendos. It’s not like that.”

“Well, in any case,” he nodded his beak toward Winona’s untouched plate. “I suppose you’re one lucky cat, aren’t you?”

I subtly swapped our plates around and started on Winona’s share of the monitor. Her folksy habits were clearly at odds with the Hotel, but I’d have to help her tomorrow. Someone had to eat him. And he tasted so good, I didn’t see why it couldn’t be me.

Comments

[SwordTune]

Question to the reader: Should I write more? This may turn out to be an interesting story, but I do also have other stories to finish.

[Robipony]

9403026 I am curious to see what is going on with this location.

Aside from a few spelling errors, this is an interesting story with a lot of potential.

[SwordTune]

9403727
Thank you! I couldn't find any spelling errors with my spell-check, however, so you'll have to point some things out. I use proper English (UK) if that helps clarify anything.

[Shrinky Frod]

I'm reminded of this old Vincent Price radio play, "Specialty of the House."

The lamb armingnon does lose something if you realize its provenance, doesn't it Winona?

[Artist]

Awesome, love it