A Mare Walks Into a Bar...
A MARE WALKS INTO A BAR...
The sleepy little tavern on the outskirts of Trottingham passed the late hours of the night in the same fashion it had for decades. A hard day of work had come to a close, and the diligent earth ponies who worked the fields had rallied themselves for an evening of drinking and relaxing with friends. The dozen or so ponies, mostly stallions, who were slowly intoxicating themselves while the proprietor looked on with a watchful eye as he wiped down his glassware were all regulars, a second family to one another. Rich, poor, old, young, educated, simple, a few tankards of ale and everypony found themselves on equal ground with all the others. The slurring familiar tune of an old sea shanty emanated from the three colts in the far corner, occasionally threatening to spread, virus-like, to the rest of the assembled crowd.
But then the front door flew open and battered the dented wall beside it. Every eye in the place turned to look at the new pony standing in the entranceway, face shrouded by a heavy black cloak. She stalked inside, hooves striking the floor with the sound of metal on wood, and muttered to herself as she walked up to the bar. The one stallion seated there, a salmon-pink earth pony named Copper, shivered as she came close and settled onto the stool next to him.
“Stupid sister, throwing me out into the middle of my own night. ‘Be more social,’ my flank.”
Copper was quite content to be ignored and turned his thoughts back inwards, ignoring the mare’s complaints.
“You there! Barkeep!” shouted the mare, easily audible over the renewed din of the tavern. “I require drink. A tankard of your finest ethanol-containing liquid.”
The barkeep cast a skeptical look over towards her. “You got bits?”
In reply, the mare dug through her things and pulled out a stuffed coinpurse with gold and gems spilling out the top. “Is that sufficient? My advisors have been telling me about something called ‘inflation’ and I don’t think I quite have a handle on it yet.”
“Yeah, I think you’ll be fine,” said Copper, more to himself than to his new drinking companion. The mare gave a shallow nod, still not looking over at him.
“Thank you for letting us know. In that case I would also like to purchase one alcohol for this gentlecolt.”
Pleasantly surprised, Copper waited until both glasses had been set down in front of them. A fresh pint of ale for him and a glass of red wine for her. “Thanks, hon. Cheers.”
“Cheers.” A dark foreleg came out from under the cloak and lifted the wineglass, clinking its rim against Copper’s. Both ponies took a long pull, and the mare’s glass was two-thirds of the way to drained by the time it reappeared.
“So, rough day?” asked Copper. He should at least try to draw the mysterious figure out of her shell. Maybe there’d be another round in it for him if he did.
The cloak rose and fell at the pony underneath it shrugged. “Well, I slept through most of it. But I do find that my elder sister’s insistence that I ‘put myself out there’ and make friends with somepony to be rather grating. She even had the nerve to commission a ‘How-to’ report on the subject from a local expert on the subject over in Ponyville.” The mare pulled out a thick sheaf of papers, at least fifty pages thick. She dropped it to the surface of the bar with a heavy thud. One of them escaped the pile and floated over the countertop before sticking to a ring of moisture condensing underneath where Copper’s mug had been until just a moment ago.
L,
I think the biggest piece of advice I can give you is just to try not to be quite so imposing. The yelling, the ominous stormclouds, all that can be intimidating to a pony you’ve just met. If you can tone down the intensity just a smidgen and give ponies the chance to get to know the real you, I think you’ll find yourself making new friends with ease.
-TS
The mare’s hoof came down hard and yanked the paper away, returning it to her pile before Copper could read any further. “Doesn’t sound so tough.”
The mare shrugged. “Perhaps not for most ponies. But I am not ‘most ponies.’”
“Why not? Who are you exactly, anyway? I didn’t catch your name.”
The mare sighed and, for just a moment, went very quiet. From the depths of the hood, Copper thought he saw the faint glow of magic. However, when the mare pulled her cloak away the horn he’d have sworn she’d possessed a second ago was nowhere to be seen amidst her dark blue coat and lighter mane. “Nopony of very much importance. At least not tonight. Just a thirsty pegasus.” She smiled at him and ruffled her wings for emphasis.
“Well I have to call you something.”
The mare grimaced. “Yes. My name. A simple enough question. One with a simple answer. Which I will give you. Any second now. I am Priiiiiiii...” she trailed off.
Copper frowned. “Didn’t quite get that.”
“Priestess! Yes, that’s what I was going to say! Priestess Luuuuuuuuuuuu...fah?”
“Your name is Priestess Loofah?”
“...yes? Yes! Prophetically named so for my special talent of... uh... working colloidal body washes into a frothy lather. An absolutely essential skill for a priestess to possess.”
“Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Priestess. My name’s Copper.” He bumped her proffered hoof. He’d say this much for her; at least she didn’t seem boring.
“Excellent!” declared Priestess Loofah. “Friendship achieved! Suck it, Tiaaaaaaa...pot. Teapot. Priestess Teapot. My aforementioned sibling.”
Copper tilted his head to one side, more than a touch befuddled. “I don’t think that’s really how it works, Priestess. Not that I’m not flattered, but you can’t rush these things.”
“Hmm,” said the Priestess, consulting her notes. “Ah, right you are. It says here that we should establish some sort of shared experience by exchanging views on a common topic. Perhaps current events, or some kind of cultural display which a great number of ponies took part in together.”
“Well...” Copper shifted nervously in his seat. “I do read the papers when I get the chance.”
“Then a thrilling and insightful discussion of current events shall lead me to victory. What are your thoughts on the gradual decline of the Sumareian empire over the last thirteen centuries? Was it inevitable, or would it have been avoided through more talented governance?”
“I... I think you and I have very different ideas about what qualifies as ‘current,’ Priestess,” said Copper. The excited smile slipped away from her face, and he scrambled to go on. “But you seem very informed about it. I guess Priestesses must study a lot of history, huh?”
“Hmm? Oh, yes! Study! From books and other secondary or tertiary sources, and certainly not from firsthoof experience. Right you are.” She sighed, and motioned for the barkeep to refill her cup. “Perhaps you should pick the next topic of discussion.”
“Hmm... well, do you like sports?”
Loofah brightened up immediately. “Sports! Of course. Very much so. We like the sports. All of the sports.”
Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all. “Well, do you watch any hoofball?”
“Uh...” stammered Loofah. “Is that one new? It sounds unfamiliar.”
“New? Only if you call a proud two-hundred-year tradition ‘new.’”
“I am afraid I can’t say I’ve heard of it. How does one go about discussing this ‘hoofball?’”
“Couldn’t be simpler.” Copper leaned back on his stool and called over to a green earth pony with a chestnut mane and thick horn-rimmed glasses. “Oy, Lichen! You see the game?”
The other pony rolled his eyes and called right back. “You mean that ludicrous display?”
“What was Winger thinking, sending Walnut out that early?” Copper gave a solemn shake of his head. “The thing about the Artisans is that they always try to trot it in.”
Lichen chuckled and raised his glass. “I’ll drink to that.”
Copper turned back to where Loofah was watching him, utterly fascinated. “Most aptly done. But alas, I did not observe the display in question.”
“Want to know a secret?” asked Copper with a sly smile. He leaned in and whispered into Loofah’s ear. “Neither did I.”
Loofah pulled away with a shocked gasp. “But you spoke of it so convincingly!”
Copper shrugged. “Nah, I just know the team.”
“So, if I’m understanding this correctly, one can forge a bond of friendship with other ponies simply by making sweeping generalization about the event with the benefit of hindsight? Of course, I’ve overheard the Royal Guard doing so on numerous occasions. This should be easier than I thought.” She turned around to face the same pony Copper had been speaking to a moment ago. “You there! Lichen, wasn’t it?”
“What of it?”
“I too partook of that demonstration of ludicrosity you referred to earlier, and wish to discuss it.”
Lichen furrowed his brow. “Uh, alright, I guess.”
“Were the tactical choices the players and coaches made not erroneous in the extreme? What they should have done was formulated a plan by which they achieved more scoring-touch-points in the allotted time while also allowing their opponents to score fewer! If they had only taken such a course of action, they would have achieved the victory condition set forth by the rules and been declared the winners.”
Lichen stared across the room at her for several seconds. “Well, I mean you aren’t exactly wrong but—”
“Then I declare this incidence of small talk to be a success! Barkeep, another alcohol for that pony.”
Back at his table, Lichen shrugged. A free drink was a free drink. Loofah was in a far better mood than she had been just a few seconds ago, and Copper found himself warming up to the undeniably quirky mare. “So if you don’t watch hoofball, what sports do you like?”
“In truth, there is one sport that is nearer and dearer to my heart than any other. The ultimate test of strength, conditioning, and agility. I speak, of course, of Cobra Wrestling,” she said with a grin.
Now it was Copper’s turn to be confused. “Cobra wrestling? Never heard of it.”
Loofah gasped. “What poor shadow of an excuse for a life have you lived if you have never been to a Cobra Wrestling match? It is the sport of Princesses!”
“Hey, Thirsty,” Copper asked as he turned to the barkeep, “ever heard of Cobra Wrestling?”
“Is that like, where cobras wrestle one another?”
“Nothing so base or crass,” said Loofah, “Cobra Wrestling is not about such cruel exploitation. Teams of one pony and one cobra each, united in their lust for triumph and the burning power of their fighting spirits, engage in in tag-team battles until only one combatant is left standing. Or slithering, as is often the case. Then, in a supreme display of goodwill and sportsmareship, all four combatants go out together for a round of the traditional strawberry and antivenin smoothies. It is the most glorious form of competition known to ponykind!” She slammed a hoof down on the surface of the bar, leaving her empty wineglass wobbling.
“That sounds really dangerous. Not to mention really illegal,” pointed out Copper.
“Nonsense! The matches are frequently non-fatal! If Celestia thinks she’d be able to get away with banning such events, she’ll soon find she has another thing coming! HEAR ME, FILLIES AND GENTLECOLTS!” Her bellowing brought all other conversation in the bar to a standstill. “I STAND BEFORE YOU WITH THE CHANCE TO BECOME HOUSEHOLD NAMES! HEROES IN THE EYES OF YOUNG FOALS WHO SEE THAT THEIR DREAMS OF ONE DAY BATTLING ONE ANOTHER WITH VENOMOUS SERPENTS IS NO PASSING FOLLY! THAT THEY TOO CAN BE LEGENDARY COBRA WRESTLERS, JUST LIKE I OFFER YOU THE OPPORTUNITY TO BECOME NOW! WHO IS WITH ME?”
The bar remained silent.
“ALSO, FREE ALCOHOLS FOR EVERYPONY!” And with that, a loud ‘Huzzah!’ rang out from the patrons and the night began in earnest.
-------------------
“...And everything after that is sort of a blur,” Copper tried to explain to his very tired and very angry wife Saffron.
“So you really expect me to this High Confessor of Shampoo or whoever she was is the one at fault for you stumbling home, blackout drunk, at four in the morning?” she asked rhetorically.
“Sounds crazy, I know, but—”
“And how do you explain this?” she asked, holding up the piece of paper she’d found taped to his back when he collapsed in their living room. Copper studied it again as Saffron turned and left the room, muttering something about wishing she’d listened to her mother.
Copper studied the piece of paper. He had no idea why he’d ended up attached to a summons to the Royal Palace, much less why it told him to come prepared for lessons in ‘Team Building and Animal Handling.’ If only he could remember more of what had happened last night.
“I am never, ever drinking again.”
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Damn Luna is adorkable!
Heh, loved the IT Crowd bit.
And then Fluttershy found her true calling in life: cobra wrestling coach. Not the actual wrestling; that's a bit too confrontational. But helping cobras be the best wrestlers they can be? That seems right up her alley.
A magnificent display of Lunawkwardness. Which I declare to be a word, as of now! And alcohols for everypony! HUZZAH!
What this site needs, is more Priestess Loofah fics.
...and this time I mean it.
I only read the description, but I have to say I COMPLETELY understand. What's worse though is when you're writing a longer fic, and all you think of is something in either the middle or the end, before you even write the first few chapters.
Everything's relative.
That's pretty much how the best anything ends.
4352976
I just imagine her begging Rarity to make tiny little luchador masks for all of them.
4352976
And then, in the final round of the world championships: Rainbow Dash and King Awesome versus Applejack and Big Fangintosh.
Pinkie Pie nearly goes crazy trying to plan two of the best parties ever simultaneously.
The Cutie Mark Crusaders fail to receive marks in milkshake making.
Twilight Sparkle learns a valuable lesson about friendship and mongoose repair.
4353108
Concur.
This was hilarious!
This is Australia...
4355237
Gah, stop it, the adorableness is killing me!
(I can totally see this being canon in Season 5 when Hasbro branches from the Hub to prime time evenings which forces the rating up from Y7 to PG, calling the offshoot series MLP:Nocturnal Whinnies)
...
Yeah but how do you really qualify whether or not a 7 foot long snake is still up?
Is there a Slayers reference there, or am I dreaming
This was awesome.
4366371
Maybe an unintentional one. The only reference I intended to put in was the one 4352882 alluded to.
4370609
Ah
Not familiar with that reference.
I only thought of the Slayers movie do to one of the characters going by the name loofah.
Either way still a fun little fic.
I usually don't care for stories focused on OCs, but I must say that I find Priestess Loofah to be one of your more endearing original characters. Can't quite put my finger on it for why, but I think you've got something good with this one, hope to see her again.
Win!
Y'know, I do miss more of the old "Luna hasn't quiter adjusted yet" stugg we see less of nowadays, it's always comedy gold.
A brief and completely imaginary conversation, later, between Celestia and Copper:
"It has taken only a few days, Copper, and my beloved sister's mark is already upon you. How I missed seeing it."
Filled with sudden dread, Copper examined himself as best he could, even attempting to use his tea cup as a mirror. "What!? Please tell me, Princess! I'm begging you! This week has been worse than anything I could imagine, and now..."
"Calm yourself, good stallion. I was merely commenting on that subtle eye-twitch you've developed."
After a deep breath, Copper could only repeat, "Eye... Twitch?"
"Oh, yes. For centuries, I've called it the--" She paused for a sip of tea. "Luna tic."
^ "Luna tic"
LOL.
--
- she has another think coming (as in you have to think again)
There needs to be a continuation of this fic.
6030825
I've taken a stab at it, and it does seem like something that lends itself nicely to episodic shenanigans
I'm just going to leave this here.
[youtube=XGbqGkS1c2w]
I lol'd :D