Wishberry

by mushroompone

Week of May 29

“Ha! Strawberry Sunrise. I get it.” Redheart stomped in the dirt as she snickered to herself. “Dust Devil’s pretty funny when you’re on the lookout for it.”

“What’s there to get?” Strawberry asked as she shoved her tablecloth back into her saddlebag.

Redheart paused in her laughter. “She ate your strawberries? At sunrise? And it ‘granted her wish’?” she smirked. “You didn’t pick up on that?”

“Oh, fiddlesticks.” Strawberry ground her teeth. “She was totally pulling my leg, wasn’t she?”

“Duh. Of course she was.”

Strawberry grumbled softly and folded herself back into her seat in a foallike display of pouty frustration. “That just tracks.”

Redheart chuckled softly to herself and took another sip of her coffee. “I noticed you changed your advertisement.”

Strawberry Sunrise made a point of not looking in the direction of her updated signage:

STRAWBERRIES FOR SALE

Delicious fresh

Perfect for baking

Limited wish-granting capabilities*

12 bits/pint

*not guaranteed :)

“The covering of the plot-covering,” Redheart commented dryly. “Always a good sign.”

Strawberry ground her teeth, but chose not to respond.

Sales had not, as Strawberry secretly hoped, seen an uptick since the events of last week. A sneaky little part of her had been excited by the idea that Dust Devil might spread the wish-granting rumor, and maybe some other storm chasers with more concussive brain damage than sense would swing by for a pint and a shot at… well, at whatever it was they wanted.

Then again, Strawberry knew that probably wasn’t very ethical.

Still, even having narrowly dodged a grand moral conundrum, she couldn’t help but find herself in a sour mood this morning. The farmer’s market would be closing in less than an hour, and she’d only sold one measly pint. What was she meant to do with twelve bits of profit and more than two dozen pints left over? Even the thought of packing up her cart and trudging home made her sink deeper into her chair and sigh aloud once more.

“Did I tell you that I talked to Blossomforth the other day?” Redheart said, as casually as she could.

Strawberry flicked an ear and feigned nonchalance. “Oh?” She glanced in Redheart’s direction. “Did you ask her out?”

“I’m laying the groundwork, Strawbs,” Redheart said.

Strawberry rolled her eyes.

“Oh, what now?”

“You’re always ‘laying the groundwork’,” Strawberry moaned. “Just ask her out already! You deserve it!”

“I know, I know. But I just feel like—”

“You feel like procrastinating,” Strawberry interrupted. “Because it’s scary. But, honestly, if it weren’t for me, you’d procrastinate forever.”

“Well, maybe I—”

Redheart’s next thought was swiftly cut off by a theatrically loud clear of the throat. Strawberry Sunrise jolted and, for the first time in the past few minutes, noticed that there was a rather imposing figure standing in front of her stall.

Strawberry shielded her eyes against the harsh light of the sun, which hovered just behind the stranger’s head and shrouded them in a rather stark and dramatic shadow.

“Hello?”

The figure slammed a half-full pint of strawberries down on the table.

“Uh…” Strawberry blinked, still trying to make out the pony standing before her. “Can I help you?”

“Yeah,” the pony said in a raspy, yet unmistakably feminine, voice. “You can give me my money back.”

Strawberry looked down into the pint. As she had noted earlier, half had already been eaten—no, no, more than half. Only three strawberries rested at the bottom of the cardboard container, each looking more pathetic than the last.

“But… you ate almost all of them.” Strawberry looked back up at her customer and winced at the strength of the sun. “You do know strawberries go bad, right? You have to—”

“No, I know that!”

The figure leaned forward, at last out of her own shadow and into focus.

And Strawberry definitely, absolutely recognized her.

A pegasus. Minty green, with a shock of electric yellow mane that was slicked back into a neat mohawk. There was a shrewdness in her eyes, a winner-takes-all attitude which said that somehow, some way, she would arise victorious from this decidedly non-competitive conversation.

“Your strawberries didn’t grant my wish,” the mare said. “And I want a refund.”

Strawberry heard Redheart barely hold back a laugh.

“Excuse me?” Strawberry responded coolly. “You want a refund because… my strawberries didn’t grant you a wish?”

“Yeah.” The mare scoffed. “I didn’t pay twelve bits for some mediocre strawberries, I paid twelve bits for a wish.”

Mediocre…

Mediocre?

Strawberry inhaled deeply, preparing to unleash an as-yet unplanned rant espousing the nearly magical qualities of the humble, beautiful strawberry, when her friend slapped a hoof over her mouth.

“Um, actually, you’ll notice that it says ‘not guaranteed’ right down there,” Redheart said sweetly, pointing to the sign. “See? Right by the smiley face.”

The mare clenched her jaw and looked down at the chalkboard sign. Then, upon seeing the smiley face and condescending message, she clenched her jaw harder. “That wasn’t there last week.”

“Did you buy these last week?” Strawberry asked in disbelief. “I don’t remember you stopping by… maybe that’s why I recognized you.”

“Yeah, I bought ‘em last week from the nurse, actually.” The mare pointed accusingly at Redheart. “You were too busy complaining to the pony the next stand over.”

Redheart clicked her tongue. “Ohhhh…”

Strawberry scoffed. “That doesn’t sound a bit like me,” she said, flipping her mane over her shoulder. “Anyway, I can’t refund you. Sorry, not sorry.”

“Cute,” the mare commented, wrinkling her snout in obvious disgust.

“I try,” Strawberry said with a shrug and a smirk. “Plus, even if I did guarantee wish-granting powers, you didn’t do it right. User error. Oops!”

She pushed the half-eaten pint back across the table, and the mare stared back down into them for a long moment. Almost too long. It did give Strawberry a chance to look her over once more, though, searching for anything familiar.

“Did you maybe live in Ponyville once?” Strawberry asked. “Say… three to five years ago?”

The mare furrowed her brows. “What? No.” She looked right back down into the strawberries. “And how do you know I didn’t do it right? You weren’t there.”

Strawberry sighed and rolled her eyes. “Ugh. Well, don’t quote me on this, but I think you’re supposed to eat all of the strawberries in the pint,” she explained. “At sunrise. That part’s important, too.”

“I’m sorry, you think?” the mare repeated. “Aren’t these your strawberries?”

“Mm… yes, but—oh!” Strawberry clapped her forehooves together and grinned. “Oh, oh! Did you go to Cloudsdale Young Fliers Academy? Thunder Dust, right?”

The mare’s eye twitched. “Lightning Dust.”

“Lightning Dust, yes!” Strawberry looked to Redheart and gave her a little nudge. “We were in flight school together!”

Redheart chuckled nervously and shrank away from Strawberry’s touch.

“And here you are selling counterfeit wish-granting strawberries! Whoop-de-freakin’-do,” Lightning Dust snapped back. “Who told you these rules, anyway?”

But Strawberry barely heard the question.

Now that she was certain of her identity, more memories of Lightning Dust were starting to come back to her. Some good. A few. Maybe two or three. The others…

“Didn’t you get kicked out of the Wonderbolts Academy a few years ago?”

Redheart gasped softly.

Not surprisingly, the tone shifted.

Lightning Dust’s eyes went wide. Her face flushed, so quickly that it was nearly cartoonish, and she took a funny half-step backwards, as if stumbling away from her accuser. On a lesser pony, the expression might have communicated fear, but Strawberry only saw raw fury.

Of course, Strawberry being Strawberry, a little anger wasn’t going to stop her. “Aw, did I touch a nerve?” she teased. “Maybe you should have wished for a second chance on my mediocre strawberries. That or an attitude adjustment.”

Lightning stiffened and instinctively flared her wings. “You don’t know what you’re talking about!” she insisted with a stomp of her hoof. “Plus, I seem to remember a certain Strawberry Dumbrise failing her written test back in flight school!”

Strawberry gasped dramatically and put a hoof to her chest. “Oh, goodness! However will I go on?” she bemoaned, throwing her head back in false agony. “They’ll simply never let me fly again!”

“Ha, ha.” Lightning Dust sneered. “Hilarious.”

“Wait, wait, wait—” Strawberry broke out of her theatrics and shook her head clear. “Didn’t I read that you were part of some new group? The, um… the Dropouts?”

“The Washouts,” Lightning Dust corrected firmly. “And, for the record, I—”

“And they kicked you out too!” Strawberry recalled, a nearly maniacal grin breaking out across her face. “Like, child endangerment or something? Oh! You strapped a kid to a rocket!”

“She signed a waiver!”

Strawberry sucked in a breath through her teeth. “Oof. Not a good look, Lightning.” She gently but earnestly pushed the pint of strawberries back across the table. “Maybe you should keep those, hm? Wish for, um… large-scale amnesia?”

Lightning Dust, not practically glowing pink from head to hoof, snatched the pint off the table and wordlessly stomped off.

“Bye!” Strawberry called cheerily after her. “Come again! Or don’t!”

Comments

[Ri2]

Suck it Lightning

[Thought Prism]

The mare of maximum sass strikes again.

[Bicyclette]

*not guaranteed :)

hehehe love it

“You feel like procrastinating,” Strawberry interrupted. “Because it’s scary. But, honestly, if it weren’t for me, you’d procrastinate forever.”

def sounds like a line that is also true about Strawberry about something, or even if not just love the feeling that this B-plot is going to tie together with Strawberry’s later somehow

Strawberry scoffed. “That doesn’t sound a bit like me,” she said, flipping her mane over her shoulder. “Anyway, I can’t refund you. Sorry, not sorry.”

“Cute,” the mare commented, wrinkling her snout in obvious disgust.

dang i never thought before how fun it would be to see these two mares face off in the being acerbic competition and it is great

Of course, Strawberry being Strawberry, a little anger wasn’t going to stop her. “Aw, did I touch a nerve?” she teased. “Maybe you should have wished for a second chance on my mediocre strawberries. That or an attitude adjustment.”

Lightning stiffened and instinctively flared her wings. “You don’t know what you’re talking about!” she insisted with a stomp of her hoof. “Plus, I seem to remember a certain Strawberry Dumbrise failing her written test back in flight school!”

though in retrospect it was never in question who would win. 

Strawberry sucked in a breath through her teeth. “Oof. Not a good look, Lightning.” She gently but earnestly pushed the pint of strawberries back across the table. “Maybe you should keep those, hm? Wish for, um… large-scale amnesia?”

augh i love how terrible Strawberry Sunrise is