Chapter 33
The taste inside of Twilight Sparkle’s mouth forced her whole body to tense while she gagged and made a valiant effort to cease breathing. Not just a taste—not just a flavour—no, but a stench. Not just any stench, but a rancid, redolent, riotous reek that crept out from between the gaps in her teeth to befoul the air with a malodorous miasma while leaving behind a truly terrible taste upon her leathery, shriveled tongue. The fetor was indescribable, but Twilight’s mind assigned it forevermore as the feculent funk left behind by pure, unfiltered evil.
“Twilight…”
No, she wasn’t dreaming. Somepony had said her name. Twice now. Maybe more. And with each utterance of her name, a lance of agony threatened to lobotomise her. Her legs writhed and the phantom penetrator stirred her grey matter like a spoon in tea. This was a fate worse than death, this was the end of all things, the sum of all fears.
“Twilight, you have to get up. You have to appear for the closing ceremonies. We need to get you cleaned up and upright again.”
When she tried to move, when she tried to lift her head, the pillow, cemented to her face with drool and snot, rose with her. There was another smell, the faint hint of chlorine, a smell that Twilight associated with swimming pools. As she squirmed in the bed, the stench of urine crept out from beneath the covers. Combined with her own death breath, the funktacular feculent foulness proved to be too much for her to handle.
Body thrashing, she somehow thrust her head over the side of the bed and her stomach heaved. Nothing came out but a lot of drool, a bit of bile, and a deafening belch that made her bedmates cry out in pain. Looking down, Twilight saw several waste receptacles filled with sick, but then her eyes played tricks on her and she couldn’t tell how many there actually were.
“Come on,” said Applejack to Twilight, “let me get you into the shower so you can face your adoring public.”
Twilight was dumped into the tub. There was no gentleness in this act, no kindness, no generous carefulness. No, Twilight was with the wrong Element to expect that; she was with Honesty, and Honesty hurt. Oh, when this was over and she felt better, she was going to have some words with Honesty. Magical words with a lot of hard consonants.
She thumped and bumped and whumped against the hard tub, the hard places of her body striking and bouncing like potatoes dumped into a storage bin. Annoyed, she realised that the narrative sentence in her mind was a run-on sentence with far too many ands, plus, there was the fact that she did not appreciate her inky narrative nature referring to her as a peck of potatoes unceremoniously jettisoned into a container.
Rude!
Now in a hexapodal heap of legs and wings, Twilight just lay there, trying not to move while invisible knives skewered her brain box. Inky tears poured from her eyes and strange knowledge jostled inside of her grey matter. Impossible knowledge, something only the hungover Librarian of Souls would know, such as the complicated inner workings of inner tribal breeding.
To wit, a unicorn or a pegasus who had earth pony ancestry could manifest earth pony traits such as strength or enhanced intelligence, but an earth pony, having no wings nor a horn, was unable to channel ancestral traits from other tribes. They might have pegasus magic lurking within them, or powerful unicorns traits, but being of common earth pony stock, these hidden attributes were mere templates, and nothing more.
The trickle of inky tears stained Twilight’s cheeks.
“I’ll be right back,” Applejack muttered while she sauntered away, her tail swishing.
Overhead, the cruel lights of the bathroom seared Twilight’s retinas and she could do nothing to save herself. More odd knowledge swirled within her mind, a suggestion that earth ponies, who functioned as genetic banks, living template carriers, could also carry alicorn traits, something that unicorns and pegasus ponies could not do. Squinting, overwhelmed, Twilight begged her brain to shut up, because thinking hurt.
Gasping, her body spasming, Twilight had herself a good wee right there in the tub. She allowed her skull to come to rest upon the tub’s edge while she pissed like a thoroughbred racer who established dominance by producing what could only be called ‘The Alpha Stream.’ The acrid tang stung her nostrils; it caused a tremendous, terrific wave of nausea to go crashing over her as the orange-brown flood soaked her tail and flowed towards the drain. Her pelt was sticky, matted, crusty, and most of all, smelly.
Closing her eyes, Twilight hoped that she would die, because this was the worst.
Sounds, awful sounds could be heard, and Twilight would have clutched her head, but she couldn’t raise her forelegs. She heard a grunt, a groan, and then a limp, heavy body was tossed into the tub with her. Unwilling to open her eyes or use her brain any more than necessary, she only knew that it was Seville when she heard him say, “It’s wet.”
When he flailed about and bumped into her, it caused starburst explosions to appear upon the inside of her eyelids and the pulsating throb pounding against her skull quickened. He was moaning, in pain, and Twilight could do nothing to help him. She could do nothing to help herself. When he flopped about, there were faint wet splashes that accompanied his every movement.
Either a few hours passed, or a few minutes, it was difficult to tell, and Pinkie Pie was also thrown into the tub. When Pinkie squealed in pain, Twilight was torn between trying to comfort her and throttling her for making such an awful racket. In the end, compassion won out and Twilight wanted to console the pink ponk, but helpless as a newborn, she lacked the means to do so.
Just as Twilight was starting to recover from Pinkie’s porcine squeal, Applejack turned on the cold water…
Just as she had been dumped into the tub, so too was Twilight dumped into a chair. Head pounding, she pried open her eyes, looked down, and saw a greasy plate of breakfast that made her salivary glands go squirty-squirt. Eggs, hash browns, fried oat fritters, beans, fried cheese curds, and other things she wasn’t sure she recognised. It was a breakfast fit for a hungover princess… which she most certainly was.
Seville was plopped into the seat just to her left, and then, a moment or so later, Pinkie was dumped into the chair on her right. The stallion to her left looked awful, but Pinkie… poor Pinkie. She was grey and most of her pink colouration was gone, leaving her as drab and colourless as old, faded newspaper. Not a single curl existed anywhere upon her body and her eyes were more grey than blue. To look at her was to know despair, and to gaze for too long was heartbreaking.
“What do you remember?”
Lifting her head, Twilight considered Applejack’s words while also sniffing the plate of food set before her. What did she remember? This was problematic, because she couldn’t seem to remember much at all. They had left the party and then everything became a blur. But… but there was something about Sapphire Shores, she could almost kind of sort of remember that.
“I remember something about Sapphire Shores,” Twilight said through dry, cracked lips that were in desperate need of moisture. She eyeballed the steaming cup of tea and realised that no matter how hard she tried, she could not summon the magic to lift it. She was utterly helpless, defenseless, with all of her immense power rendered moot.
“I ain’t gonna mince words, so I’ll just say it. You remember one of your bridesmaids. That’s good. Now let those words sink in, Twilight.”
In her current state of mind, Twilight utterly failed to make the connection.
“You darn near killed Sapphire. You got into a drinking contest and Lady Shores refused to accept defeat. The only reason she’s still alive is probably because she’s an earth pony. The two of you called it a draw when the Moondust refused to provide you with more complimentary liquor.”
“I don’t remember that.” The sound of her own voice caused Twilight to wince, which she regretted, because wincing involved full body clenching, and full body clenching involved her skull threatening to split open.
“Do you remember puking and punching a hole through the wall?”
“Punch? With my hoof?” Twilight looked up and the movement caused the sensation of stabbing pins and needles all up and down her neck.
“No, Twilight. You puked and that blasted a hole clean through the wall. Also shattered a very expensive mirror.”
“Oh…”—Twilight felt that profanity was suitable in this instance—“shit.”
“Oh, that happened too, believe you me.”
Twilight made a clumsy attempt to drink some orange juice, but picking it up with her hooves caused some to slosh upon the table. She did get the cup to her lips though and took a few cautious sips, worried about how her stomach might handle it. As it turned out, orange juice was liquid sunshine in her current hungover state, and each little sip returned life and warmth to her body.
“I don’t think it’s sunk in yet,” Applejack remarked while she lifted a cup of tea. “Twilight, at three-oh-two in the morning, after a cavalcade of public announcements regarding your grand plans for the future, Princess Twilight Sparkle did so retain two consorts through the assistance of a Justice of the Peace.”
Somehow, Twilight did not drop her orange juice.
“At three-oh-six, Princess Twilight Sparkle was detained by the Las Pegasus Police Department… for her own protection. As it turns out, they don’t have the powers to arrest a princess, so after blasting you with a firehose to subdue you, they returned you to our room. Thankfully, you cuddled your accomplices in the crime of public disturbance and went right to sleep.”
Closing her eyes, Twilight sighed.
“The Justice of the Peace married you so you’d stay still long enough for the cops to catch up to you in force. Quite a few attended your wedding. They was real respectful like and well behaved, at least during the ceremony. It was filmed, so if you can’t remember it, you’ll have a chance to see what happened.”
“I’m never drinking again—”
“Twilight, we all say that. You’ve said it before.”
“But I mean it this time—”
“You’ve said that before, too.” After taking a sip of tea, the apple farmer continued, “I reckon this wouldn’t be so bad if’n you just didn’t keep repressing everything. You just shove everything inside, Twilight, and compact it all down. And then when you drink… it all comes out. You get a wild hair up your ass and you just… let everything out.”
There was a groan from Seville as Twilight squirmed in her chair. Cracking one eye open, she squinted at Applejack and asked, “Are you angry with me? Disappointed?” Twilight’s parents weren’t here to scold her, so Applejack would have to suffice. She hoped that her honest friend was up to the task.
“What? Shucks… no.” Applejack took another sip of tea and sat with her teacup just below her chin. “Why, reckon that this is the most normal thing you’ve ever done in your life, Twilight. I’m proud of you.”
None of this made sense to Twilight, who opened her eye just a little bit more. “How is this normal?”
In response, Applejack chuckled and this caused ripples to disturb the placid surface of her tea. “Twilight, normal ponies come to Las Pegasus, get three sheets to the wind, and get married. You might just be the most normal member of the Royals, given everything that’s happened. You went on an epic bender that ponies will be telling stories about to their grandfoals. In one night, you’ve passed into living legend status, Twilight Sparkle. And I was one of your bridesmaids.”
“This is all my doing.” Pinkie’s voice was akin to a screechy, out-of-tune violin. “All my fault.”
Ignoring Pinkie Pie altogether, Twilight had a far more pressing concern. “Did anything else happen last night? I mean, lots of things happened last night, that much is obvious. But did I have my first time and not remember it?”
“No.”
Applejack's words caused Twilight to almost sob with relief.
“You tried though. Before the wedding, but after the drinking contest with Sapphire Shores, you tried real hard. You went after Seville like a mare in heat. He turned you down. Said it wasn’t right. You chased him all over, and Pinkie too, but Pinkie just pronked away and wouldn’t let you catch her. With Seville though, I think it had less to do with him being noble, and more to do with him having a wicked case of whiskey dick. There was just no rising to the occasion, for him.”
“Fuck you, Jackie.” Seville’s first words at the table were downright unpleasant.
Applejack laughed. She laughed and laughed and this caused bells of agony to ring inside of Twilight’s skull, which threatened to explode from the sensation. In the middle of all of this, Pinkie whimpered, a shrill, grating sound that did nothing to help Twilight’s splitting headache. Moaning, Seville reached up and began to rub his skull with his front hooves.
“I’m going to let that slide, because you’re in pain. No hard feelings on my part.”
For Twilight’s first princessly act of the day, she tried to recover what she could from the situation. “Well, Pinkie, you and I, we share a husband now.”
“No.” Seville hunched over his plate, sniffed, and his ears fell limp. “No, you’re wrong. Pinks and I share a Princess.”
“You’re both wrong.” Pinkie squeezed her skull between her hooves and her eyes pointed in two distinct directions. “Seville, you and Twilight share a Pie, and a shared pie tastes best when two friends eat it together. Ha ha… innuendo. Pie. Eat me.” With that, she pitched over sideways and would have fallen out of her chair had Twilight not grabbed her and sat her back upright.
“Pinkie—”
“Twilight, I’m so sorry. I had orders, Twilight. I had orders that I didn’t want to follow. I was s’posed to get you to self-destruct so you’d put yourself back together in a better sort of way. I was s’posed to set you up and manipulate you so you’d do the thing you needed to do, but you wouldn’t because you were all caught up in your own rationality. Everypony wanted you to be happy. I didn’t want to trick you, I didn’t honest! I felt so bad going into this but everypony said it was the only way and so I did it even though I didn’t want to. I’m so sorry. Please, forgive me.” At the end of it all, Pinkie’s eyes were a little bluer, and the tips of her mane had a tiny blush of rosy pink to them.
“I’m not even mad—”
“But you need to be mad. I tricked you. I feel so guilty. You have to punish me.”
“I’m not going to punish you.” Twilight’s head hurt too much to deal with this and breakfast was cooling.
“But you hafta,” Pinkie whined as she turned about in her seat to clutch at Twilight. “You don’t know how guilty I feel. I need you to use your princessly powers and punish me. I feel really bad and if you don’t punish me, I’m gonna start crying. It’ll be loud—”
“Fine, fine, I sentence you to a lifetime in the castle’s kitchens. Happy now?”
“That’s tough, but fair,” Pinkie Pie replied while she leaned against Twilight. “Everypony conspired against you, Twilight. Even Spike. It was Spike who said that we need to get you liquored up, so the naughty Twilight would come out and play. We had to release the kraken and brave the danger.”
“Spike did this?” Astonished, Twilight blinked.
“He couldn’t take it anymore. You were unbearable and boring.”
“Did I just get outsmarted by Spike?” Twilight asked, while the fangs of panic pressed against her tender, throbbing neck.
In return, three earth ponies nodded, their heads bobbing up and down.
“That sly little dragon… he exploited my weakness… he just played the princess game—”
“He might be better at it than you,” Pinkie said while she grimaced in pain.
This was something that Twilight was just not ready to accept and her mind reeled at the thought of it. Pride swelled within her, pride and annoyance. Looking back on everything, even in her current hungover state, Twilight could see that each and every single one of her weaknesses had been played on. If she were to be completely honest, the marriage might not have happened—ever. She might have procrastinated and delayed it to the point of self-sabotage, because dealing with the discomfort of change always left her hesitant.
As a pony, she could be lead to water with a good and proper fight, but getting her to drink was rather easy, all things considered.
The worst part of it was over, the terrifying, ‘I can’t come to grips with it!’ part. It was like getting a shot or something along those lines; the terror of the shot was worse than the shot itself. But now that it was over, she could relax. Let down her guard. She was a married mare, and now, it was just a matter of picking up the pieces so everything could be sorted out.
When she got home, Spike was getting a hug… and perhaps an extended interrogation.
“I feel really bad… and I don’t mean the hangover.”
“Pinkie”—Twilight chose her words carefully, because every word hurt to say, making each word precious in much the same way birth was precious—“this isn’t about you. Or me for that matter. Or Seville. You were a means to an end. This was probably some kind of test for you, just like it is for me. This has less to do with us and more to do with what benefits Equestria, as well as the world at large.”
“That doesn’t make me feel better, Twilight. Now I’m confused and I feel bad.”
Closing her eyes, Twilight could feel the blood being forced through the vessels in her brain and four distinct heartbeats pounded in her frogs. Across the table, Applejack was slurping her tea and the sound thudded within Twilight’s ear canals in the most unpleasant way, like hammer blows upon an anvil.
“A long, long time ago,” Twilight began, and each spoken word caused parts of her body to jerk in pain. “There was a confused little unicorn that lived in a library tower. It was so much more fashionable than an ivory tower, you see. This unicorn was a dope, you see. Oh, she had potential, that much was clear, but she was a dope of the worst sort. Like, no hope for this big of a dope. But others believed in her, for some unknown reason.”
To the left, Seville was snickering, but this turned into groans and moans of agony.
“Life was perfectly good in that library tower, and there was no sense in leaving it. But this unicorn, this dope, she was evicted from her tower of ideological purity and sent to Ponyville. It was a dirty move, from a dirty player of a dirty game. But this dope found herself in Ponyville, and she runs into this pink weirdo that can’t even offer a proper hello.”
“Pink weirdo?” Clutching at her head, Pinkie Pie closed her eyes for a moment and tried to make sense of things. “Oh… pink weirdo. I gotcha.”
“This unicorn, this dope, she fails to learn the most important lesson after being booted from her tower of ideological purity, and she settles into a much smaller library tree in Ponyville. Eventually, she’s rooted to the spot and doesn’t budge, because budging sucks. She settles into her tree and decides to herself, ‘this is fine.’ From that point onwards, she was content to remain in one spot.”
Closing her eyes, Twilight tried to recall those days while her brain pulsated in a manner most unpleasant. “The only cure for being rooted was to sprout wings and the little unicorn dope was transformed into an alicorn dope. She never would have budged from where she settled, otherwise. It was in her nature to settle into one spot and find some way to make it so comfortable that moving from that spot was nigh impossible.”
Applejack, chuckling to herself, put down her teacup and began to eat deep fried cheese curds.
“And so the great game was played. Every time the winged dope would begin to settle, the universe itself would conspire against her and she’d find herself in the most amusing, most terrible situations. But this too, became routine. It became familiar and common in its own way. Somehow defying the universe itself, the winged dope settled and found a comfortable spot, from which she did not budge.”
Eyes open, Twilight took a deep breath, then another, and then a third. “Eventually this dope became the Librarian of Souls, but that was a trap. It was a mistake giving the dope that many books. Never would she budge ever again. Emergency measures had to be taken and those who loved this dope the most had her best interests at heart when they conspired against her. She was uprooted yet again, sent to Las Pegasus, and word has it that the winged dope who bleeds ink went on an epic bender. Eventually, her life will change again, when more life comes ripping and tearing out of her nethers like terrifying eldritch parasites from some scary movie, and then there will be no more comfort, no more settling… no more peace, no more sleeping in beyond a reasonable hour. The cure has been found… but the dope looks forwards to defying all expectations. She will find a way to root herself into one place once more, because that is what the dope does.”
“One of the great orators of our times,” Applejack said around a mouthful of fried cheese curds.
“If there is one thing I’ve learned about myself”—Twilight paused, she had no choice, she had to wait for a moment for the pain in her head to subside—“is that I must be tricked or otherwise forced into action. I honestly will not move, otherwise. Pinkie, I have no doubt that this was as much of a test for you as this was for me. Ultimately, this is what Equestria needed… and… I don’t even know where my own needs fall on the Big List of Priorities. But I’m positive that this is what I needed as well. It follows the pattern, after all. As for you, Pinkie, you’ve shown that you can place a necessary directive ahead of your own feelings, and that’s important for the role you’re about to play.”
“Role?” Pinkie Pie became Blinkie Pie, and her eyelids fluttered while her face contorted from pain. “I’m about to play a role? What would that be? Motherhood? I can’t even figure out what comes next. This hangover is murder.”
“Pinkie Pie… as Twilight’s consort, that makes you a Royal.” Applejack leveled her deadpan expression upon the pink mare, who was struck by the terrific force of it.
“No…” Pinkie shook her head from side to side. “No… no… no, that means never having fun again. I clearly didn’t think this through. No…” What little blue that had returned to her eyes faded away and the mare somehow turned a little greyer. “No… I was following orders. I didn’t think about the outcome. Or maybe I did and I denied it and hid it from myself. I can’t think with this much pain in my head, and all of this guilt and shame and conflict.”
Applejack’s expression softened, but not by much. “Pinkie—”
“No… no… this is worse than being sentenced to a lifetime in the kitchens.”
Again, Applejack tried, and this time compassion could be seen glimmering in her green eyes. “Pinkie Pie… it’s time to buck up and get to work. This might not be what you wanted, but it is what you’re stuck with. Make the most of it. You have Seville and Twilight. You had to know this would be the outcome when you played the most dangerous game with Twilight. You played flirt-chicken and lost, Pinkie. Deal with it.”
“I was too scatterbrained to see this far ahead,” Pinkie snapped and the whole of her body convulsed in pain from the force of her uttered words. “Love makes you blind. I… but… I just wanted… no.” Slumping over, her lip quivered and her eyes glazed over with tears.
“Everything really is worse with a hangover.” Trembling, Seville ducked his head down and began to eat his food.
Feeling bad in a way that had no words to explain, Twilight twisted about in her chair, grabbed Pinkie, and pulled her longtime friend close. The first pony she had met in Ponyville, in a way. Pinkie was hot and feverish to the touch and every place that Twilight touched quivered. In a most dreadful turn of events, Pinkie Pie had turned into her sister, Maud, before Maud had found happiness. Dull, lifeless tresses, a vacant, deadpan expression, and a flat, monotonous voice. Pinkie was more grey than pink. After Twilight kissed the distraught earth pony on the side of the mouth, she pulled away with the taste of toothpaste and shame on her lips.
Applejack gave Twilight a wave to get her attention and then she said, “Eat up… we need you downstairs in less than an hour.”
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think it should be "Las"
you're [may be slurring by Applejack, but it's REALLY annoying]
9172782
Fixed. Thanks.
Days of work have left me a bit blind to typos. Sorry.
The beginning and middle part are hilarious, and then it turns to poetic. Nicely done. Good choice to let us be told what happened through AJ.
Uh-oh Pinkie, looks like you didn’t realize just how much the bride of a Princess has to do...
Ah, so Cadance, Twilight's parents, her other friends etc. most likely won't be upset about missing the wedding because odds are they were in on the scheme.
Probably won't stop them from pretending to be put out in order to tease Twilight mercilessly though.
9172787
You're forgiven for all kinds of things, after all, you do keep producing brilliance consistently.
Pinkie Pie not have fun because she's Twilight's consort.. That would be like Discord moving into a normal house in Ponyville and never playing any pranks
KUDZ thank you for an interesting chapter I can imagine there is all sort of details left out.. WHT will the papers say about this I'm sure there was more than a few reporters around
Congratulations you three, it will likely be worth it in the end.
Good grief, Pooped-out Pie. You just got a Royal Prerogative to prep the next Galloping Gala, because you're the Princess-Consort of Friendship.
The Consort of Celebrations, the Bride of Balloons, Pinkamena Diane Pie. She Who Doubles The Fun.
Also, if you don't love Applejack by now, you probably tried keeping up with Twilight too.
pinkie had orders to get twilight drunker than let her innards loose? who else is in on "Operation: Drunk Alicorn" i wonder
We must remember at all times that Spike is the power behind the fax machine behind the throne. Just be glad that he is yet to go on an “Epic Bender”. I imagine him sending letters commanding all sorts of things. And the next morning writing to the weather bureau ordering an emergency rainstorm to prevent the sun blinding him, and declaring a national day of absolute silence to spare his ears.
Princess Pinkie, followed by a couple tangents leads me to...
"Cake or Death?"
"Ah... I think I'll have death please."
Pinkie turns around and shouts, "Death by cake it is! BRING IN THE BIG ONE!"
Ohh wow. What’s left up to the imagination is almost as good as what was written.
Please please please tell me events that happened during her bender/Vegas weeding will pop up in the future.
9174446
The Executive Transvestite would be impressed.
It's a good thing Pinkie is suffering too, because this is all her fault.
Oh no.
Oh yes.
Man, honesty is kind of mean.
Huh, yeah, that is a bit of a surprise.
Hopefully there won't be too many negative repercussions, particularly in the press, from the epic bender.
Well I can say that I honestly did not see this one coming o.o;
Great work though! <3
Um, maybe I misunderstood something but isn't Pinkie pregnant? If that's the case, it's probly a bad idea to get blind drunk on hard liquor...
9177092
No. She is not that.
Thinking about it, I can't really imagine a better way this wedding could have happened than a drunken bender off screen. It's... oddly fitting.
Adorkable twilight is adorkable.
Poor pinkie
Twilight is the hen that likes to roost and gets pissy when you try to move her around.