Cranky and Steve's Final Adventure

by libertydude

One Fateful Night

“…And then it turns out the ale was actually white instead of red, so of course the Baroness was displeased and her uncongenial attitude made the rest of the event rather…”

Cranky nodded toward the noblepony before him. He had spent the past few minutes trapped in the conversation, with the fellow coming up to him and talking about subjects he neither understood nor cared about. Something about a long-past excursion to the Fjords of Norneigh and an irritable aunt who desired diamonds bigger than mangoes.

He let out a controlled sigh and looked out at the rest of the Gala. The party continued with a dull pace, everypony chatting in a way that suggested they didn’t care about anything around them. Even Princess Celestia, decked in a fine white dress with yellow-tinted frills, seemed to be fighting a dim boredom with the whole affair. Her face presented a content monarch, but Cranky could see the glazed eyes of a mare who’d done this song and dance one too many times to care. Even the night sky, usually so well-maintained by Celestia, seemed to have a sluggish look to it, as if even the stars couldn’t be bothered to shine their brightest tonight.

“…Because of this, we moved out east to Manehattan, where there was a fresh supply of seaweed to condition her skin for her occasional outbreaks of…” the noblepony continued.

Cranky did his best to not cry out in pain. He’d always heard the Gala was the premiere party in Equestria, but he cursed himself for not listening to the odd average Joe he’d met in his young life, many of whom warned him of the party’s extreme dullness.

Well, now I know, he thought. I can at least say I went once. And that’ll be-

That’s when he saw her.

She didn’t deck herself in an extremely fashionable dress with a well-trimmed skirt or fancy embroidery lining her upper chest. Nothing but a simple red handkerchief surrounded her neck, and her hair sat on top of her head tied in a neat bun. Compared to the rest of the party, with their extravagant ties and dresses costing more money than Cranky ever saw in his life, she looked positively pauperous.

But there was something in the way she moved and held herself. A quiet dignity emanated from her graceful walk, as if she knew she was surrounded by ponies better off than her. Ones whose dreams could be bought as easily as the clothes on their backs and the luxury hour d'oeuvres filling the buffet table. But she wouldn’t let that bother her. She may’ve been a donkey in a pony world, but she was more than fine with that. Her plain brown coat would shine, her large snout would flare whenever a tasty treat passed by, and these ponies would just have to deal with it.

Then, with timing Cranky simultaneously praised and cursed, she looked at him.

For a split second, a nervous rush filled Cranky. Look away, look away! his mind shouted. But he couldn’t; she was just so plain and simple and wonderful in this overstuffed and overwhelming place that he couldn’t help but stare.

She shot a smile his way and nodded.

Cranky’s mind raced a dozen directions. Does she like me? Will she talk to me? Is there something in my teeth? Will the wedding be next week or tomorrow?

“…So the doctor said the anesthesia didn’t work as directed, so we’d have to do the surgery when the moon was full to allow the hypnosis-“

“Pardon me,” Cranky said. “I see an acquaintance that I wish to convene with.” He wanted to gag at the fancy words, but he knew it was better to stay on the good side of the royals while in Canterlot. At least, that’s what the guidebook his cousin Stroppy lent him said.

The noblepony stood agape, his mint green caviar somehow managing to not fall from his shaking plate. “Well, I never!” he huffed, trotting off with his snout pointed up.

Cranky paid no mind. These partygoers could rot in Tartarus for all he cared. This beautiful jenny was all that mattered to him. He approached her with a hesitant step, and even he noticed how his steps seemed to skid upon the well-polished floor tiles.

But he knew that he wouldn’t falter at this moment. He couldn’t.

She could see him coming from across the room, but made no effort to wander away. She even seemed to blush somewhat, as if attention from him was a pleasant amusement rather than a crippling embarrassment. The confidence of a thousand donkeys seemed to flow into him at this, and his steps seemed to linger forever in the thirty steps it took to reach her.

Eventually, he was standing next to her and the purple curtains lining the large ballroom windows. The shaking seemed to pick back up in his legs, and even she seemed to be doing her best to hide her nervousness. Their eyes shot quick glances at each other before zipping to something else in the room, like the enlarged petunias in the corner or the five piece band playing soft music onstage.

But they couldn’t resist for long, and they found themselves staring deep into each other’s eyes. Cranky gave a smile, the most genuine one he’d ever made in his life.

“Hello,” he said.