The Basement

by PearlescenT

PANIC: Cocktail Attack!

“Rarity, this is not the place to be asking for cocktails.”

Indeed it wasn’t. The interior of Donut Joe Jr.’s emporium of delicious donuts was all but silent, as the children, families, and strangers milling about stopped to observe the unkempt mare demanding for cocktails in a family establishment.

Rarity didn’t care. She glared at Twilight, milkshake mug in hoof, and then slammed down the cup on the counter with a bang. “I can have a cocktail anywhere and anytime I want, Daaarliiing~”

“Rarity, what’s gotten into you?” Twilight grabbed her friend by the shoulder and pulled her off the barstools. “Last week you were complaining that alcoholism was a plague-”

“Oh, it most certainly isssh-”

“You’re hammered right now. And we’re supposed to be meeting with the Council of Friendship in thirty minutes!”

“OH! That’s greaaat.” Rarity tripped onto the tiled floor, and then hobbled out of the establishment. “Joe Jr. wouldn’t serve me a Moskva Mule - I’ll just ask… Aaaaplejack for some of her haaard cider-”

The cold wind of midnight Canterlot struck Rarity dead center, and suddenly she could feel something bubbling up.

“Oh, dear - Twiliiiight?~ I think I’m, uh… a little unsettled right now. Would you please - ugh - step to the right a little bit-”

Twilight did not have enough time to process what came next, nor could she dodge the incoming projectile.

---

“Oh, so you’re saying you’re better at the dishes, eh, Applejack?”

“Yes, Dash, ‘ah am. And ‘ah can betcha three hundred bits-”

BANG. The door slammed open.

“Twiliiiiight, please. I’m fiiine.”

Applejack looked left to face the interruption. The two mares’ jaws gaped open as they found their old friend in the Princess’ telekinetic grip.

“Uh, Twi? Care to explain what’s goin’ on?”

With a thud, Rarity fell onto the ground. Twilight’s horn stopped glowing, and immediately the scowl on her face concerned the other mares in the room.

Her eyes narrowed, and immediately the air in the room dropped thirty degrees. Celsius.

“Which one of you challenged Sandbar and Yona to a drink-off?”

“Twi, you don’t have to use the Royal Canterlot Voice on us-”

Her glare stiffened. “Oh, really? After dragging an extremely hammered, completely unsalvageable mare through the streets of Canterlot? Befitting of a Princess, don’t you think?”

Applejack and Rainbow Dash looked at each other, sheepish grin and wide eyes locked in a silent panic. “Ah…”

“Oh, Applejack, you must tell Sandbar that his cocktails are just… wonderfulll. Thank you for showing him your incredible drinks.”

Applejack let the red on her cheeks respond for her.

“And Raaainbow Daash! Daarling, you and Yona have such great tolerance. I really envy you.”

Rainbow’s wings suddenly stood on guard, ready to lift her away from this disaster.

“Oh, most certainly~, Darling. When I saw the four of you truly enjoying yourselves in the Canterlot Boutique, well - I felt - I feltttt, aaaaaah.” She stopped for a moment to think. “Jealous.”

Twilight’s face softened for a moment. “Rarity, the reason they don’t ever want you drinking with them is because…”

“Hm? Because whaaat, Darling~?”

“Because-”

“Because you’re a lightweight, Rares!” Rainbow Dash’s hoarse voice cut through the throne room’s air.

“I’m a whaaat? A lightweight?! Oh, you can’t most certainly think I’m light~”

“Ah, Rarity? Ya can’t even stand up straight after a margarita. And ya ain’t supposed to get drunk after… a cocktail.” Applejack sheepishly raised her hoof to her head, trying to hide the blush. “Ya… really don’t remember what happened, didya?”

“What? What happened?”

“The night you found us drinking in the Boutique’s lounge room? The morning after?” Dash facehoofed. “You really don’t, do you.”

Rarity cocked her head sideways. “Well, I most certainly don’t-”

She stopped.

Her eyes shrunk and widened.

If she could glow brighter than metal after a furnace heating, then she was doing so right then and there.

“Oh. That’s why I was drinking the morning away.”

With that, fair lady Rarity, mare of only the most polite, fashionable, prim and proper, fainted upon remembering the sad truth of her non-existent tolerance - that she could never enjoy a good, simple drink.

And that she could be a particularly sultry mare come alcohol.

With a thud, her body registered its last movement for the night.

Twilight rolled her eyes. “Is there anyone else with a bedroom story strong enough to jeopardize a council meeting?”