> Next Contestant > by bahatumay > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > Introduction > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Guess I’ll start at the beginning. Every town has a darker side, and Ponyville is no different. Sure, ours is a bit lighter than some other cities have, but we have one. And at the center of it is the bar known as The Bar. Yeah. They thought for weeks and came up with that name. And every night, it's pretty full. I'd know. I'm here every night, too. Ponies that are happy and friendly during the day seem to just be tired and defeated at night, and so we unwind the only way we know how: Berry Punch’s miracle working. Yeah, that's her, with the grape and strawberry mark. What? Did you think we were here for the greasy hayburgers or the cheesy alfalfa sticks? Seriously. Berry’s mixing magic is the only thing that makes this smoky, run-down dump tolerable. She may be perpetually stumbling and she will probably forget your name nine times out of ten, but she can mix up any drink you can think of. I’m usually here for the classics, like cider, but on slow nights, I sometimes string a couple random words together, order it, and see what bizarre concoction she makes me. I have yet to stump her. If you ever visit this filthy place again, I definitely recommend asking her to make you a pink gummy bear. I don’t recommend adding the optional vodka, though. Last time I tried that, I... well, I don’t remember exactly what happened. I woke up hanging upside down by my tail from a tree in the park, though. That I do remember. So pretty much every night I'm here at the bar, nursing my cider. I usually sit here at the bar itself, kindof back off into the corner, out of sight, and just under this burned-out light that they haven’t replaced in the year and a half I’ve been coming here. I’m kindof surprised you found me, by the way. I like lurking in the shadows until I’m needed. Why am I here, you ask? Well, it's not because my life is hard, I can tell you that much. When my life gets hard, I just get more awesome. Proven fact. You can quote me on that. And it's not because my job is hard. I'm a cloudbuster. I'm pretty sure I could do it in my sleep. But I'm still here every night. I'll tell you why. It's my fillyfriend, Fluttershy. No, no. It's not anything she does; it’s what she’s doing. I’ll just come out and say it. She is adorable. You have to see her to understand what I'm talking about, and you’ll know it’s her when you See her. She's this sweet shade of yellow with a long pink mane, three butterflies on her flank, and she is... Well... The way she smiles, the way she cares for everything, the way she can be quiet and tender and caring and still firm when she needs to be? She’s perfection in a little yellow squeaky package. A flat-broke yellow squeaky package. She's Ponyville's resident animal caretaker, and animal food doesn’t pay for itself, you know. And animals really don’t have a lot in the way of bits--not like she’d take pay from them anyway. So she works here at The Bar as a waitress. Every night. I don’t know who owns this bar (the ‘owner’ photograph on the wall over there has been used as a dartboard by the waitresses since forever), but as you can see from Raindrops over there, he or she had the great idea that all the waitresses should wear these tight little saddles, ribbons, and gardener belt thingies. At least, I think that’s what they’re called. I've never seen a gardener use them, though. Whatever they are, they’re way too tight and way too revealing. Now, don't get me wrong. I’m all for saddles. They’re great for when you’re getting intimate (you would not believe Shy’s personal collection. The quiet ones, I tell you...), but not good for working in. They’re like a target, and she gets perpetually hit on. And I don’t like it. Oh, I know that look. You think I sound too overprotective and controlling, huh? Look. Fluttershy is a grown mare. I respect her boundaries and her desires. If she wanted to go home with another pony, I mean, I’d be hurt, but I’d let her. But she just wants me, and who wouldn't? She's just too nice to tell them no and get those creeps to back off. So that’s what I’m here for--to make sure that the only one touching her cutie mark and or grabbing her wings and or groping her teats (yes, this is all in public and yes, ponies have tried this) is me. Not in public, of course. Fluttershy much prefers privacy when we’re getting it on. But I’m sure you couldn’t care less about my private life. And even if you could, you shouldn’t. Yes, that’s a threat. I have a reputation for being late everywhere I go, but none of The Bar patrons think so. Every night I’m here at a quarter to four, so about fifteen minutes until she starts her shift. Yeah, guess I’m a bit early tonight, so what? Nah. The clock on the wall is probably the only thing in this place that works right. And the dart boards, but then again, those are pretty much impossible to... actually, scratch that. I’ve seen some weird stuff here in this bar. Some really weird stuff. We got winners, losers, chain smokers, and I’m pretty sure that that mare with a heart on her flank who shows up every few nights is a hooker. But all in all? This is our life together. And I don’t regret it one bit. What was that? You want to see my life? Wait twenty minutes, and you can see for yourself. It’ll be a story and a half, I tell yo- You got another appointment in half an hour? Psh. Fine. I guess I can tell you about something... Eh, I’ll start with last night. Hey, Berry? Quick refill? > The Story > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- So, last night. I walked in at my normal time and walked over to my normal spot. I flapped my wings to clear some of the smoke from the air as I approached my stool. Not that The Bar allows smoking--it doesn’t--but as you can see, the blue pegasus colt who runs the grill there wouldn’t know clean if it beat him over the head with a riding crop, and so the entire place smells like alcohol when you breathe through your nose and tastes like grease when you breathe through your mouth. Pleasant, I know. I slid onto the stool and slapped two bits down on the counter. Berry Punch looked over at me and grinned. “Rainbow!” she said. “You’re back!” “I’m always back,” I said, letting a little smile spread on my face. “You know I always come back.” Berry grinned and slapped her flank provocatively. “And I know why, too.” We shared a laugh. Berry’s straight, I’m not, and we both knew it. Besides, she has a daughter. Cute little unicorn filly. “What’ll it be?” “I’ll go with the classic.” Berry nodded and slid over a mug of cider. I didn’t even have to catch it--it slid to a stop right in front of me. Like I said, Berry is a miracle worker. I picked it up and took a slow drink. It was cold enough, but it was nowhere near as good as Applejack’s. You know who that is? Oh, she's your four fifteen? Cool. You'll like her. She'll have some good stories, I bet. I listened as the crowd grew louder and other waitresses kept calling out orders, and I could tell it was going to be a large night. Great. Really. I kindof feel bad for Fluttershy, you know? She works so hard to do something she loves, and it has to be here. I wish she'd take a night off every once in a while, you know? Give her and me a bit of a break? But she won't do it. She loves her animal friends too much. So the crowd gets larger and the music starts getting louder and dancier, typical night. Then it’s four o’clock on the dot and Fluttershy walks in from the back, wearing her uniform. Yesterday she chose one of the bright pink bar saddles. They have drink holders and tray holders built on, see how Raindrops balances hers like that? I mean, obviously hers is green, but they all look really similar. The trays there on the sides kindof flip up and lock so they can carry trays, but apparently pegasi get a better tip if you deliver the food on your outstretched wings. That's pretty harsh on the wings, though, but I guess the patrons like it. I've even seen Berry deliver a drink holding it between her croup and her dock, but that's not really important now. As you can see, the bar saddles have way too few belt holes and way too many black belts with buckles. It looks great on her, unfortunately. Like I said, I’m all for saddles, but when you wear one like that, you might as well be wearing a sign that says ‘please hit on me’. So like I always do, I gave her a bit of encouragement before she started waiting tables. It’s... sortof like a pep talk. Yeah. Fine, it’s a kiss. I kiss her. On the lips. There, I said it, happy? Now wipe that smirk off your face or you’ll be wearing that drink as a hat. She walked out and started on her first table. For a while there I thought tonight might actually go right for her. I really should have known better. When you’ve been playing protector for a while, you start to notice things. There was this one pegasus stallion there, and he was watching her. Watching her like I was watching her, meaning I think he wanted to play with her wings and preen her feathers. No, that’s not a eupha-whatsit. I really mean preen. It’s kindof an intimate affair for us pegasi, because you really gotta trust the pony preening you or they could screw up your feathers and throw off your flight for a long time. But lots of ponies look, because looking is free, and I didn’t worry too much until I saw him walk up and start talking to the DJ. That’s her, you see her? Pretty little pink unicorn mare, long messy black mane? Yeah, behind the chain link fence. That’s to protect her from thrown bottles and bodies. She’s no Vinyl Scratch, but she tries hard. Yeah, bodies. That’s what I said. Did I stutter? Ok then. Yeah. I knew instantly what he was asking about when he pointed at her across the bar, and I could almost hear him asking what would she say if he tried coming on to her. Now the DJ filly knows what’s up. She starts shaking her head and waving her forehooves in a ‘no, don’t do it’ gesture, trying to convince him to look elsewhere, but he kindof waved her off and walked back to his seat. I ordered another cider and waited. I didn’t have to wait long. I watched him talk to Fluttershy and she came back to the bar with his latest order. I saw Berry Punch do a double take, but she mixed her the drink. Sure enough, it was a little red thing in one of those little glasses that looks like it's on stilts, and unless that guy was playing for the other team, it was for her. Yep, you got it. It was for Fluttershy. I just watched him. He didn't spike it, I checked. But I knew something was going down the moment she took it. You obviously haven't seen Fluttershy. She's adorable no matter what she does, but when she drank that, she sat back and picked it up and just sipped it, and my wings couldn't sit still. It was adorable. And it looked like he thought the same, 'cause he started running his hoof down her body. He obviously thought that buying her a drink would get him better chances of getting inside her, because he traced down her side, under her wings, and he almost got to her cutie mark before he was stopped by a cyan hoof. Yeah. This one. I glared at him and just shook my head slowly. He removed his hoof but leered at me. He was mad. He reared up and snorted at me, but I kept cool. "Do it again. I’ll watch you leave here walking," I growled. And that means a lot when you’re threatening a pegasus, you know? He was drunker than I had thought. Either that, or he was a complete idiot. Either way, he spread his wings and flew at me. Me, being a lot less drunk, dodged easily, and gave him a quick kick to the ribs as he flew by, sending him cartwheeling through the air and crashing against the bar. Berry's used to it and didn't even jump, but he was mad, so he spun back around and charged me again. But I was sick of him already, so I ducked under him, grabbed him by the tail, and spun around and threw him out the window like he was a haybale and I was Applejack. Yeah. Out the window. That’s why the front window’s boarded up. Why so surprised? What, is it that they haven’t banned me from this dump yet? Yeah, well, it’s cool. I just have to pay for what I mess up and Berry conveniently forgets to mention it to the owner. Not like she’d remember much anyway. No offense, Berry. You know, there’re actually a couple stallions who come to The Bar just to watch this. Seriously. There’s this red guy with a messy mop of a brown mane who shows up every once in a while and tallies all the fights I get into. He always orders a huge thing of hayfries and just sits in a corner and watches. Sometimes he brings his buddy and they place bets on me. How many fights I get in, that is; not if I win or lose. I’ve never lost a fight. Never. Where was I? Oh yeah. So I chucked him out the window, and he didn’t come back inside, so that was the best idea he’d had all night. But I knew the night wasn't over yet. You know what's even scarier than a stallion trying to hit on Fluttershy? A mare trying hit on Fluttershy. I mean, mares are cool--I mean, I am one, and I'm attracted to them, after all--but they're twice as crazy when they come on to her. Her next table was a group of mares. Fluttershy blinked from the smoke and I guess one of them thought she was winking at her or something because when Fluttershy turned around, she gave her flank a little slap. She let out this absolutely adorable little squeak. I figured that it might have seemed like an intentional wink, and therefore a justified slap, and let it slide. And it totally wasn't because that little squeak made my wings flare out and get stuck against the bar. Totally. As Fluttershy walked back and requested their drinks, I just watched their table. They were giggling and shooting glances at her so I downed my drink and waited. I didn't have to wait long. She brought back her drink, and she was leaning across the table to put them in front of the mares who had ordered them. They were all eying her, getting a bit too close, brushing against her accidentally on purpose, that kind of thing. Nothing worth punching anypony over, but Fluttershy was blushing hard as she kept bringing them drinks. It was playful like that until she brought their desserts. She had to lean over the table to give the light purple earth pony her banana split and the green pegasus made her move. She brushed her cutie mark with a hoof and was just about to bite her wing when I grabbed her tail and dragged her backwards and maybe sorta flung her back into a table. Ok, yeah. I was a bit upset. Stop judging me. She got up and decided she didn't like that, so she grabbed a bottle from the table behind her, smashed it against the stone floor, and came at me with the jagged glass. Now, I'd been drinking a bit, but I was still in control of my body; and, of course, she forgot to account for my disproportionate amount of awesomeness. I ducked her first swing, slid to the side when she swung back, and when she stabbed at me I flipped backwards onto another table. I kicked a plate up with a forehoof and batted it at her with a wing. I scored a direct hit right on her face, you should have seen it. So she brought a hoof up to wipe the mashed potatoes and gravy off her face and she opened her eyes just in time to see my rear hooves slam into her face. Problem is, I sent her flying backwards right into a table with ponies who were even drunker, and they didn't like that. So this stallion who just got his beer spilled smashes the bottle against her head, shattering the glass, and so her friend flew up and bucked him in the face, kicking him flying over the back of the booth. He landed right on a birthday cake this colt had bought for his fillyfriend. He got mad and punched the stallion that was covered in cake, and he rolled off the table and stumbled into another and... well... It kindof escalated from there when he stood up and punched the wrong colt back. Hooves flew, ponies started throwing glasses, the DJ even had to duck a chair. I grabbed Fluttershy and shoved her behind the bar and waded in to the scrum with hooves flying. I don't even know who or how many I hit, but let me tell you, it was fun. Then Berry broke it up. Yeah. Berry. She kindof walked up and did her signature sharp whistle. I'd ask her to demonstrate, but I'm pretty sure that whistle can blow out an eardrum if you're too close. I froze holding some mare's mane, I'd been smashing her face into the food on some plate on the table while holding off another mare, prolly her friend, with my other forehoof. "Break it up or I'm cutting you all off," she threatened. What's that laugh for? She's serious! That's a serious threat! Serious enough that everypony stood up and went back to their seat. Eventually Fluttershy came out from under the counter and the night continued. That's about it yesterday, really. Nopony else was feeling lucky. Not that I'm complaining or anything. She is my Fluttershy, and I like my Fluttershy. Aw, horseapples... I'm getting sappy already and the night hasn't even started yet. That's just wonderful. Where's my mug... So yeah. Your time's about up and it's a long ways to Sweet Apple Acres so you'd prolly better get go... ing... Oh my... H- hey, Fluttershy. We were just talking about you. You look... Wow. Your mane looks great tonight and that's a nice choice of saddle. Pink is a beautiful color on you and it's really tight and shows off your... uh... yeah. C'mere. Mmm. You taste like cherry today. I like it. Uh... you'd prolly better get to work, Flutters. Yeah. Wow... She's something else, right? Heh heh... Hey, Berry? Wha-? Nah, my wings are always like this; you're just too drunk to tell most of the time. Make this next one a triple. I'm going to be tearing a lot of heads off tonight.