All Diamond Tiara wanted for her 21st birthday was sex and fun and sex and friends and sex and rock and roll and sex. Bad thing is: she actually got it.
All Diamond Tiara wanted for her 21st birthday was sex and fun and sex and friends and sex and rock and roll and sex.
Weeks later, after cleaning all the blood from the walls and promising she’d never grab a bottle of whiskey again, Diamond Tiara would admit that she had known the night would be one to remember the moment somepony knocked at her door.
Of course, truth be told, everypony had known that the night would be one to remember from the get-go. It was a huge celebration, after all, and she had bought enough alcohol to drown a bohemian whale.
But that knocking? Yeah, that was the real deal. They were the kind of knocks that, if written, would have been in cursive and slightly paler than the rest of the story. The evening really started with that.
Silver Spoon was the one who opened the door. And, after seeing who was at the other side, she smiled like a hungry cat who just saw his wife giving birth. “Hel-lo,” she said, in that sultry yet nerdy way only ponies with glasses can pull off. “Welcome.”
“Heya!” The Cutie Mark Crusaders, all three plus one of them, answered with a huge grin and walked inside. Apple Bloom was carrying two bottles of something that looked dangerously homebrewed. “How’s it going? Happy birthday, Diamond Tiara! Nopony here yet?”
Her words echoed, answering her question pretty neatly, if one might say. For the first time in many years, Maison du Riche—Diamond Tiara’s place—was completely empty. Maison du Riche, the obscenely imposing mansion that had been Ponyville’s personal ode to opulence and tackiness for generations. Marble, velvet, glass, diamonds… if it was of poor taste, then it was in Maison du Riche.
“Thanks!” Diamond Tiara gave her a hug, and Apple Bloom made sure to pat her on the back affectionately. “And no, it’s still too early.” She nodded at Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo, hugging and hoof-bumping each one respectively, then looked at the fourth mare. “Babs! It’s been a whi—woah.” She blinked, then arched an eyebrow. “Wow. Seriously?”
Babs frowned and took a step back. “What?” She noticed Silver Spoon was looking at her with an arched eyebrow too, and her frown deepened. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Uh?” Silver Spoon shook her head. “Ah. No, sorry, it’s just—”
“It’s just that wow,” Diamond Tiara interrupted. “Short mane, short tail, right ear pierced, scissors as a cutie mark. Got the full checklist there, girl. Subtle, you are not.”
“Hey!” Babs’ covered her right flank with her tail. “The cutie mark is not about me being a lesbian!”
Silence. Everypony stared at Babs.
“Uh.” She bit her lip, “it’s just a little bit about me being a lesbian?”
More silence. More staring. Scoots was squinting a little.
Babs lowered her head. “It’s mostly about me being a lesbian.”
“Glad to see we’re being honest,” Diamond Tiara said, patting Babs on the head. “Anyway! Don’t stay out there, come inside! The rest are arriving soon, I know.”
“Yeah!”
“Woohoo!”
“Dude.” Babs looked at Silver Spoon as she closed the door. “Is it that obvious? I mean, I don’t want to get into trouble or—”
“Trouble?” Silver Spoon waved a hoof dismissively. “Bah. This is Ponyville, Babs. We don’t hate.”
“Seriously?” Babs asked as they both walked towards the living room. “Isn’t Ponyville, like, Redneck Town Number One?”
“Number Two. One’d be Appleloosa. But the female-to-male ratio in this place is around eight to one, so unless you harvest a good number of cucumbers in your garden, you better experiment.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah.” It’s a miracle how condescending a simple gesture like taking one’s glasses off and cleaning them against one’s fur could look, if done well. Silver Spoon had mastered that art long ago, as Babs just witnessed. “Hell, I’m fairly sure you’re the only one in this house Apple Bloom hasn’t shagged.”
“What?” Babs’ ears moved forward, as if trying to get what Silver Spoon had really said. Her earring tingled. “Oh, no, no, no. I don’t buy that. Apple Bloom is a purebreed Apple—straight as an arrow, I know that as a fact.”
“Oh, yeah. She is.” Silver Spoon looked at the living room. “HEY, APPLE BLOOM!”
“YES?!”
“IS THERE ANYPONY IN THIS HOUSE RIGHT NOW YOU HAVEN’T SHAGGED YET?!”
“YEAH! BABS SEED OVER THERE!”
Silver Spoon nodded. “THOUGHT SO!”
“BUT AH’M A REDNECK, SO GIVE IT TIME!”
“Yeah.” Silver Spoon turned to Babs again and gave her a petite smile. “Straight as an arrow. Welcome to Ponyville!”
“Wow. That’s—damn.” Babs shook her head. “Going through puberty here must be an experience.”
A shrug. “Meh. Town’s ravaged every other Saturday, so you get a mix of existential dread and sexual awakening. Mixed bag.” Diamond Tiara appeared to their rights and gave them two plastic cups full of beer. Silver Spoon took a sip. “Thanks!”
“You’re welcome!” Diamond Tiara winked at them and put her forelegs over their shoulders. “Feel free to take anything you want, girls! We have alcohol to spare, enough food for an army, security measures for the private times, and one set of sexy lingerie!”
Silver Spoon frowned. “Sexy lingerie?”
“Sexy lingerie!”
“What the hell do you want sexy lingerie for?”
“Oh.” Diamond Tiara shook her head. “Trust me: that one is paying off big time. Anyway, remember: beer first, then liquor, and once we’re done we’ll gather around and drink that stuff Apple Bloom made herself.”
“Herself? You mean the Apple Family didn’t help?”
“Nah, she brewed it in her bathtub. You see, I promised Dad we would be responsible tonight.”
“Oh.” Silver Spoon blinked. “Well, then we have to get messed up.”
“It’s only natural.”
“And then,” Filthy Rich said, resting his elbow on the counter of Sugarcube Corner, “Diamond Tiara promised me—actually promised, she said those exact words—that she would be ‘responsible and trustworthy’ and that there would be no problem whatsoever.”
Mrs. Cake covered her mouth with a hoof. “Oh, my,” she said. “She is going to get messed up, isn’t she?”
“I’d be disappointed if that’s not the case. I’m looking forward to tomorrow.” He suppressed a shudder. “And, hey, this time Silver Spoon will get drunk away from me, which is a nice change.”
“Do I want to ask?”
“Not really.”
“Of course, of course.” Mrs. Cake nodded thoughtfully. “Do you want me to ask Pinkie if she can lend you her favorite airhorn?”
“It would be wonderful, yes—ah?” Filthy Rich felt somepony patting him on the shoulder, and turned around.
Behind him was Pumpkin Cake, Mrs. Cake’s daughter. She was a tall and slim teenager, with striking blue eyes, long eyelashes, and freckles all over her face. “Mister Filthy Rich?” she asked, her tone as polite as a teenager’s voice could be. “Excuse me, but did you say Diamond Tiara is throwing a party?”
“Pumpkin!” Mrs. Cake frowned at her from the other side of the counter. “Don’t bother our customers! Table two is calling for you!”
Filthy Rich raised a hoof and shook his head. “It’s not a bother, Mrs. Cake. Really.” He looked at Pumpkin. “Well, my daughter swore that she was just having a private meeting with some friends, so I’m willing to bet she’s going to throw the biggest party in the last seven years, yes.”
“Cool! Thanks, Mister Filthy Rich!” Pumpkin smiled at him and headed for Table two, but not before turning to her mother one more time. “Mom? Me and Pound Cake will finish early today, okay? I promise we’ll be responsible and behave properly!”
There was a moment of silence as both Filthy Rich and Mrs. Cake watched Pumpkin Cake walk away.
Then Filthy Rich let out a wistful sigh. “They grow up so fast, don’t they?”
“I’m sure Pinkie Pie can spare an airhorn for me, too.”
“Okay, small question?” Sweetie Belle screamed, trying to make herself heard on top of the music. She wasn’t exactly dancing—more like just stumbling gently in a rhythmical fashion. “Diamond Tiara? I thought you had invited around twenty ponies tops?”
“Indeed!” Diamond Tiara replied.
“Because I think there are a little more than twenty ponies here!”
“Yeah! I lost count at one hundred and fifty!”
“Cool. Just wanted to make sure!” Sweetie Belle’s ears perked up. “Oh, hey, I know this mixtape! I love the next song!”
Diamond Tiara smiled and rested her elbow on the table as she saw Sweetie Belle trying to get to the dancefloor, entering into the crowd like a gastroenterologist enters a pretty boy’s butt, and then somepony tapped her shoulder.
“Hey!” Apple Bloom said, showing her the bottle of whiskey she was carrying. “Ah just upgraded from the beer!”
“Welcome change!” Diamond Tiara raised her cup as Apple Bloom filled it with the liquor. “Also, Sweetie Belle’s going to dance.”
“Woah. Nice.” Apple Bloom grinned. “Ah wanna see that.”
“Hey, Apple Bloom!” Silver Spoon descended the stairs and walked to them from the other side of the room. “I—oh, nice, whiskey, fill my cup—I just shagged your cousin!”
“You did?”
Silver Spoon beamed. “I did!”
A pause.
“I mean, either that, or I dry-humped Diamond Tiara’s pillow for forty minutes. Not gonna lie, both are equally possible. I’m kind of drunk.”
“Oh, for crying out loud.” Diamond Tiara glared. “Aren’t you charming sometimes, Silver Spoon.”
“The pillow probably agrees with you!”
Diamond Tiara sighed. “Well, at least this time Dad wasn’t home.”
Apple Bloom looked at them. “Uh. Do Ah wanna know what you’re talkin’ about?”
“No.”
“Pillow-talk only.”
“Gugh.” Apple Bloom punched Silver Spoon on the shoulder, gently. “You hornball. Also, Sweetie Belle is goin’ to dance!”
Silver Spoon’s eyes lightened up. “She is?”
“Yeah!”
“Ah!” Apple Bloom looked to their left, past a group of five colts—Snips and Snails included! That was nice, Apple Bloom would go and say hi to them later—that were apparently really busy discussing important stuff like philosophy and metaphysics and if round flanks were better than slim flanks, and waved. “Speak of the devil. Hey, Babs!”
“Cousin!” Babs trotted to them, not without difficulty. “Oh, Luna, I love this party. I need to visit Ponyville more often.”
“Gettin’ tail?”
“Like there’s no tomorrow.”
Apple Bloom nodded sagely. “Good, good. Frickle-frackled with Silver Spoon, right?”
“Kind of? Sixty percent of the time was dedicated to Diamond Tiara’s pillow. Pretty weird, but hey, I’m open-minded.”
“Hah. Toldya” Silver Spoon elbowed Diamond Tiara and raised a hoof. “Drunkenly scored on a forty percent ratio. Up top.”
“You’re going to clean that pillow tomorrow.”
“Hey, don’t go away yet!” Apple Bloom took Babs’ cup and filled it with whiskey as Silver Spoon and Diamond Tiara hoof-bumped behind her. The cup was already filled with something else, and neither of them cared. “Stay for a second!”
Babs made a pout and pointed. “But that mare in there seems extremely heterosexual! You know what that means!”
Apple Bloom looked. “Who do you mean? Twist? Hah!” She tapped Babs on the shoulder. “Sorry, she’s off limits.”
“What? Why?”
“Silver Spoon hates her. Outta your league.” Apple Bloom shrugged. “Anyway, stay for ten minutes!” She grabbed her by the shoulders and pointed. “Sweetie Belle is gonna dance!”
“So?”
Silver Spoon popped her head from behind Apple Bloom. “You’ve never seen Sweetie Belle dancing, have you?”
Diamond Tiara popped her head from behind SIlver Spoon. “You don’t know what life is until you see the Sweetie Shuffle.”
“Is it worth ten minutes of me not trying to shag another extremely heterosexual mare?”
“Yes.”
“Eeyup.”
“Definitely.”
A moment of silence.
“Huh.” Babs raised her cup at them. “I’m gonna be honest with you: that piqued my curiosity big time.” She drifted her attention to the dancefloor—Sweetie Belle was there, standing in the middle of a perfect circle, the crowd giving her a lot of space. “So when does it start?”
“Well, the next song is about to start, so—Ah!” Diamond Tiara pointed and jumped in place. “Now!”
Almost everypony in the room looked at Sweetie Belle on Diamond Tiara’s cue.
Minutes later, Babs remembered she had muscles on her jaw, and somehow managed to close her mouth. “Damn,” she eventually said. “That’s just—damn.”
“Uh-huh.” Diamond Tiara never took her eyes out of Sweetie Belle. “Impressive, isn’t it?”
“I just—I’ve never seen something like this in my life,” Babs said. Her voice was that of a mare who has found peace and the meaning of life. “It’s amazing.”
“The best part,” Silver Spoon said, leaning a little towards Babs, “is that she doesn’t really do it on purpose, I think.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.” Silver Spoon took a gulp of her drink. It burned her throat, pleasantly so. “As far as I know, she doesn’t know what to do with her tail, so she just, you know. Lifts it.”
“Wow.”
“Yes.”
“Eeyup.”
“Definitely.”
They kept staring. Sweetie Belle made a particularly impressive shake, and the crowd gasped in unison.
“Oh, boy.” Apple Bloom took a gulp of her whiskey and then blew air out her nose, like a bull facing a cheese maker. “Sweetie Shuffle’s next’!”
“Wait.” Babs frowned. “You mean this isn’t all?”
“No, no, the Sweetie Shuffle is even bet—HERE IT COMES!”
And then, as the prophecies had foretold, Sweetie Belle did the Sweetie Shuffle.
The sky opened in half. Angels sang songs of hope and happiness. The ocean tasted sweeter with the tears of the sirens.
The earth rumbled. In the peak of the tallest mountain, a grey mare gave birth to the seven ponies who would save or destroy the world. The Elder Dragon who had seen the beginning of Creation found peace at last and closed his eyes for the last time.
The world shook. Dancers everywhere knew that, no matter what they did from that moment on, they would never top that. If you had asked them what that was, they would have said they had no idea. But deep inside, they knew.
At the party, at least three ponies had to sit down. One fainted completely. Many discovered that sexuality is surprisingly relative, and an unlucky fella locked himself in the bathroom and wouldn’t come out for at least two hours.
Babs just stared like nopony had stared before. Her pupils had grown like watermelons, but she had stars in her eyes.
“Luna, Celestia, and Twilight Sparkle,” she muttered. “I have gazed upon eternity.”
“Ah’ve known that mare since we were lil’ foals,” Apple Bloom said, pouring herself another glass. “It never gets old.”
“What? Over?” Babs looked at them, the stars in her eyes going supernova. “What are you talking about? This can’t be over! She’s still dancing!”
“Yeah, but she did the Sweetie Shuffle, so—ah. See?” Silver Spoon pointed. “Scootaloo is already on the dancefloor. Show’s over.”
Babs frowned. “What? Why does that matter?”
“Well, pegasi used to have mating dances, and Scootaloo never really learned how to control her instincts,” Diamond Tiara said. “Her childhood being that weird and all. So she’s going to start courting Sweetie Belle now.”
The crowd stopped staring. Everypony went back to their business.
“GAWK GAWK GAWK GAWK GAWK GAWK!”
Sweetie Belle blushed, looked at the floor, rubbed her foreleg, and giggled.
“GAWK GAWK GAWK GAWK GAWK GAWK!”
“Celestia.” Babs shivered and drank her cup in just one go. She barely felt it. In the corner of her eye, she could see Scootaloo was hopping around Sweetie Belle now. “Sweet Celestia.”
“Eeyup.” Apple Bloom nodded. “Instincts plus alcohol plus Sweetie Shuffle. Always happens.”
Scootaloo started rubbing her tail and wings against the carpet, trying to rub her smell on it to claim it as her territory. “GAWK GAWK GAWK GAWK GAWK GAWK!”
“Gotta admit it, though,” Apple Bloom said, pouring Babs another drink. “Scoots’ got game.”
“No, no.” Diamond Tiara shook her head and leaned on Snails, trying to get her balance back. “You don’t get it—round is always better, because you get more to grab than if it’s slim, right?”
“And what does that tell us of the meaning of life, I wonder,” Rumble said, his tone grave. “Were you determined to prefer that kind of ass, or was it truly your own decision?”
Snips looked at Rumble. “Chose it. I saw Sweetie Belle dancing.”
Silence.
“Oh.” Rumble looked down and scratched his chin. “Well, okay. That answers the whole ‘free will’ question I guess.”
“Also, Sweetie’s flank is slim, which obviously means that—”
“Tut, tut, tut, I’m stopping you right there.” Diamond Tiara raised a hoof, still leaning against Snails, and Snips shut his mouth. “Because—and I’m pretty sure you all agree with me—Sweetie Belle’s otherworldly, and thus I hereby declare that any argument by example that uses her when talking about flanks is forbidden. Those in favor, say ‘Aye’.”
“AYE!” the five colts replied.
Diamond Tiara nodded. “Thank you. Snips, you may proceed.”
“Hm.” Snips wrinkled his muzzle and squinted, then looked at Diamond Tiara. “Well, your flank’s kinda slim too?”
“Damn. Compelling argument.”
“Thanks.”
“DT!” Babs stumbled from upstairs, a goofy grin on her face. “Hey, seriously, amazing part—agh! Hey, look where you’re going!” She pushed Twist aside. “Amazing party! I’m moving to Ponyville after this!”
Diamond Tiara frowned. “What did you call me?”
“DT!” Babs pronounced it Datey. “That’s your name now!”
“Oh. Well, it could be worse.” Diamond Tiara grabbed Babs by the shoulders and pointed at the five colts she’d been talking to—Snips, Snails, Rumble, Featherweight, and a little blue guy named Shady Daze. “Care to join our argument? We would benefit from an expert!”
“Expert?” Babs giggled. “What are you arguing about?”
“Flanks.”
“Oh. Yeah, I’m all for that.”
“What do you mean, she’s an expert?” Featherweight asked. He was half-sitting, half-laying on the floor, his words slurrier than a racist comment. “And who’s this girl anyway?”
“Babs Seed,” Diamond Tiara said, now leaning on her instead of on Snails. “Apple family! And look at her cutie mark!”
They looked.
They looked again.
“Okay, if that’s not an expert, I don’t know what it is,” Rumble eventually said. “Love the short mane, by the way. Really subtle.”
“Right?” Diamond Tiara said. “We need to play Truth or Dare later, Babs, I just have to ask you about the cutie mark. Anyway! Babs, do you prefer slim or—”
BLAM!
Silence filled the house for a heartbeat, as everypony paused their conversations and looked at the door. A second BLAM! quickly followed, and they all flinched when they saw the main door of the Maison du Riche bend inwards with the blow.
“Woah.” Babs was the first one regaining her composure. She nudged Diamond Tiara. “Hey, somepony’s bangin’ at your door, DT.”
“Not ‘banging’,” Diamond Tiara said. The alcohol was gone from her voice, Babs noticed. And there was a funny gleam in her eye. “Pounding. They’re pounding. Do you mind helping me? I don’t think I can walk there on my own.”
“But of course.”
The party noise slowly filled the room again, and the five colts continued their conversation as if nothing had happened while Babs got up and helped Diamond Tiara do the same. The door got slammed two more times before they managed to get there, and Diamond Tiara opened it with a lusty look. “Well, well, well. I almost thought you would never appear.”
“You didn’t invite us!”
“Oh, come on. That’s beside the point.” Diamond Tiara winked at them and took a step to the side to let them in. “You know you’re always welcome to come inside.”
She gave that last part a weird intonation. Babs would have said something about it, but she was too busy getting her jaw up from the floor.
The two ponies at the other side of the door looked very alike and completely different at the same time, something that should be impossible unless talking about the body symmetry of the female of a mammal species.
But still, they pulled it off. Now, the one on the right—the mare—wasn’t that weird. A tall teenager, not as much slim as skinny, with striking blue eyes, long eyelashes, and more freckles than banjos in a redneck house.
And then there was the one on the left. The stallion.
Now, the sentence “I would smash my brains against his chest just to touch his muscles in a more intimate way” was, at least in Babs’ opinion, really overused in the current times. But of course, sometimes a cliché is a cliché for a reason. The young, cream-colored pegasus in front of her was more orangutan than pony. With each movement, a thousand muscles flexed and relaxed, and the more you looked the more you found.
And his wings. Oh, his wings. If the word ‘sex’ could be explained with a non-pornographic picture, Babs thought, it would be just that guy’s wings. And a round flank somewhere close, too, but mostly the wings.
The guy smiled at Babs, and Babs flinched. There was something weird—like, a connection between them. She got confused for a moment, then quietly told her brain that, hey, I thought we weren’t into this side of the chromosome spectrum.
To which the brain replied with the hugest shrug a brain can muster. So much for having scissors as your destiny, apparently.
“And hello to you, too,” Diamond Tiara purred by her side, blinking rapidly at the stallion. “You wanna go like usual?”
“If you don’t mind?” the stallion said. Then he looked at the mare, who just nodded. “Yeah, I think I would like that. Upstairs?”
“Like always.” Diamond Tiara closed the door behind them. “See you later, maybe.”
“Later!” the mare said, waving, as they both walked upstairs.
Mere seconds later, a small group of mares followed them, giggling like schoolfillies in front of a movie star.
Diamond Tiara gave a low whistle. “Well, this party is definitely a success now.”
“What the hell was that?” Babs said, closing the door. “Who were those ponies?”
“You’ve never met them?” DT looked at Babs. “The Cake Twins?”
“The Cake Twi—Those were the Cake Twins?” Babs’s eyes went wide. “Holy damn. They’re all grown up, aren’t they?”
“Yeah.”
Her eyes went less wide. “But still underage.”
DT shrugged. “Weeeell. They’re sixteen.”
“Oh. Boy, how conveniently legal.”
“I know, right? Gotta love the inexorable passage of time.” Diamond Tiara waved a hoof as they walked back towards the group of five stallions arguing flanks. “They’re not going to drink, anyway. They’re just here for the fun times.”
“Fun times?”
Diamond Tiara shot her a look. “Oh, come on. Why do you think they went upstairs?”
Silence.
Babs stared at Diamond Tiara. Diamond Tiara stared at Babs.
Three more mares went upstairs, giggling too. The sound of springs creaking could be heard from the second floor. They were following a steady rhythm.
“No.”
“Yes.”
“Really?”
“Well, he’s called Pound Cake, so yeah. It’s kind of his thing. Usually ponies just take turns—trust me, he’s got stamina to spare. Pumpkin Cake just hangs around, but she’s a cool kid.”
“Ugh, but…” Babs Seed shuddered. “I met them when they were wearing diapers, for Celestia’s sake. No way one can shag that after—”
“Hey, so did I,” DT said. “And yeah, trust me, you forget about it after seven seconds or so. The kid is good at his job. Good at it.”
The creaking springs went through a crescendo. The sounds of a mare being rather happy about such a development joined them.
“I can tell.”
“Let’s just hope Scootaloo doesn’t notice they’re here,” Diamond Tiara said. “Otherwise, we’re in for a treat. Make sure you don’t tell her.”
“Why?”
“Because Pound Cake’s a constant equivalent of a Sweetie Shuffle, only in male form, and Scootaloo has had a lot of alcohol today, so—”
“GAWK GAWK GAWK GAWK GAWK GAWK!”
“Oh, dammit—SOMEONE STOP HER BEFORE SHE RUBS HERSELF ALL OVER THE SOFA! SHE GETS TERRITORIAL WITH TEQUILA!”
Sweetie Belle left Diamond Tiara’s room, the one upstairs, and closed the door behind her. She stretched her back like a cat and let out a satisfied sigh before looking around. With a modicum of surprise, she noticed the corridor was full of mares and a couple stallions that hadn’t been there before. And among them was…
“Pumpkin Cake! I didn’t know you were here!”
Pumpkin Cake smiled like a foal who just saw her pet dinosaur eat her schoolteacher alive, and they ran to each other and hugged. “Sweetie Be—HGGGCCKRRK.”
“Oh my gosh!” Sweetie hugged her a little tighter. “You’re as cute as ever!”
“HGGGCCKRRK.”
Sweetie Belle blinked. “I’m hugging you too hard again, right.”
“HGGGCCKRRK.”
“I’m going to take that as a yes. Sorry!” She released the young mare, and Pumpkin Cake fell to the ground with a plof! “Got too excited to see you. Are you okay?”
“Ugh.” Pumpkin didn’t get up. “Oh, Celestia, I’m not.”
“Glad to hear that!” Sweetie Belle looked around. “Say, is your brother here too? Wait, no, don’t answer that. Scootaloo was gawking a while ago without me dancing, so of course he’s here.” She looked back at Pumpkin Cake. “Uh, you sure you’re okay?”
“I think I’m bleeding internally.”
“Anyway, so where’s your brother?”
“This is my bleeding internally face.”
Sweetie’s horn flashed, and Pumpkin Cake floated back to her hooves, a painful expression on her face. “Wait, don’t answer that either. Seven mares waiting for her turn in there, so he’s in that room.” A moment of silence, Sweetie gave a better look. “Wait. Six mares. Isn’t that pony Snips?”
Pumpkin shook her head, coughed, and got her senses back. “Ugh. Tomorrow’s gonna hurt.”
Sweetie Belle poked her on the side and pointed. “Pumpkin! Is that Snips waiting for a turn with Pound Cake?”
“What?” Pumpkin looked. “Oh, that Snips? Yeah, he asked a while ago, and Pound said he didn’t really mind.”
“I thought Snips was heterosexual?”
“Yeah.”
“And so was Pound?”
“Extremely so.”
A pause.
Sweetie Belle frowned. “Oh. Right. Boy, Ponyville’s a paradise, isn’t it.”
“Absolutely.”
“Ah!” Sweetie Belle clapped, ears perking up. “Which reminds me! You see the room I just came out?”
Pumpkin looked. “Yeah?”
“Do you know what was going on in there?”
A second or two of silence, while Pumpkin mused it. Then, “I’m assuming something mentally-scarring?”
“I was going for ‘something exhausting’, but you’re not that far off, actually.” Sweetie Belle looked around. “But anyway, can you make sure the ponies in here don’t make much noise later on? Dinky needs to sleep it off.”
“You are one of the worst sportponies I’ve seen in my life, Sweetie Belle.”
“So? Life with Rarity.” Sweetie Belle shrugged. “Amazing pony, but she thinks ‘little sister’ equals ‘forced labor’. With all that training, I’m awesome in bed.”
A pause.
“Also I probably could have phrased that one better.”
Pumpkin Cake blinked. “Hey, wait, that makes no sense. I’ve been working in a bakery unpaid all my life and I don’t have that kind of physical resistance.”
“You sure?” Sweetie Belle pointed at the group of mares waiting for her turn with Pound. “Because your brother apparently does, and you always kick his ass whenever you argue.”
“I—” Pumpkin Cake blinked. “Wait. That makes sense.” She looked at her own hooves. “Oh my gosh. I have sexual stamina.”
“Probably! You just haven’t tried it yet, have you?”
Pumpkin Cake’s ears twitched. “I’m not sure what to do with this information.”
“Funny. I know exactly what to do with mine.” She tched her tongue. “Which also reminds me…” She trotted to the stairs and popped her head on the first floor. “HEY, DIAMOND TIARA!”
“YES?”
“I JUST DRY-HUMPED YOUR PILLOW FOR TWENTY-THREE MINUTES!”
“OH, FOR CRYING OUT LOUD.”
“Really?” Pumpkin walked towards Sweetie Belle and frowned, squinting at her face. “You don’t sound that drunk.”
Trotting back towards her, Sweetie Belle gave Pumpkin a wink. “Who says I did it because I’m drunk?”
“Oh. Sweetie Belle, Pumpkin Cake.” An extremely heterosexual voice sounded from behind the two mares. When they turned around, a glasses-wearing cream-colored mare with a poofy red mane was there. “Hadn’t seen you yet,” she said.
“Twist!” Sweetie Belle said, hugging her. “Where were you? I’ve been looking for you for hours!”
“HGGGCCKRRK.”
“Oh, yes, right. Asphyxiation.“ Twist hit the floor with a plof when Sweetie Belle released her. “You ponies and your silly oxygen.”
“Hello, Twist!” Pumpkin Cake poked Twist on the head to make sure she was still alive. “Here to make a reservation for Pound?”
“I think I’m bleeding int—”
“Welcome to the club,” Pumpkin said. “Pound?”
“Not now, no.” Shaking her head to get the woozy away, Twist got up on all fours. “Ugh. Sweetie Belle, I’m glad you’re enthusiastic and all, but I think I broke a rib.”
“Sorry!” Sweetie Belle stuck her tongue out with a chuckle. “I’m a little giddy. I just scored with Dinky on a seventy-seven percent ratio!”
Pumpkin looked at Sweetie Belle. “Seventy-seven percent?”
“Yeah!”
“You said twenty-three minutes of pillow-humping. You spent exactly one hundred minutes shagging Dinky?”
Sweetie Belle nodded. “Like clockwork! I’m good with schedules and stuff, so I made sure to finish Dinky in time. Rarity likes ‘em tight, and I aim to please!”
Silence.
“Also I probably could have phrased that better.”
“Stay golden, Sweetie Belle,” Twist said, patting her shoulder. “Never change.” She looked at Pumpkin. “So, what about you? How are your parents doing?”
“Pretty well! But they hate you because you’re the competition,” Pumpkin said. “They say your sweets are a hack and that you’re trying to steal our customers like the traitor you are.”
“Charming.”
“They also say that this Friday they’re busy so you’ll have to come on Saturday.”
“Oh?” Sweetie Belle looked at Twist. “Still taking classes at Sugarcube Corner?”
Twist shrugged. “One has to learn somewhere.”
“Yeah! Learn to be a loser!” said a voice from behind, with the tone of a kid opening the first present on the Christmas her dad died.
“Oh, no,” Sweetie Belle whispered.
“Here we go again,” Pumpkin muttered.
“My turn!” Snips yelled with glee from afar.
“My, what a wit. Must be Silver Spoon herself.” Twist raised her voice maybe a little more than necessary as she turned around to face the pony who had talked—Silver Spoon, indeed, reeking of alcohol and carrying a cup of something that looked and smelled like gasoline. “Your marksmanship with the words never ceases to amaze me.”
“Because you’re a loser.”
Silence.
Twist sighed. “Damn it, girl. You’re really giving me your top game, aren’t you?”
Silver Spoon gave her a cocky smile. “Oh, you’d love it if I gave you my top game, all right. But I’m not going to waste it on you.” Then she looked at Sweetie Belle. “Speaking of which, Featherweight is looking for you, but I recommend you don’t go with him.”
“What? Why?”
“Because he’s started what he calls a ‘nonsexual ménage a trois’ with Liza Doolots and Cyan Skies,” Silver Spoon said. She pointed. “Right there, at the bottom of the stairs.”
“Oh?” Sweetie Belle’s ears perked up and she got up. “Really?”
“Yeah.”
Twist frowned. “Nonsexual ménage…? I’ve never heard of that.”
“Me neither.” Pumpkin Cake looked downstairs. “Sounds pretty tame, though, so I guess—uh.”
“What?” Twist looked too, and Sweetie Belle followed. “What is going—woah hey.”
“See?” Silver Spoon said, pointing. “That’s why I told you not to go.”
“Okay. Nonsexual,” Twist said, following the strange dance of appendages with her eyes. It was like witnessing a ballet, only more naked. “Fairly sure Featherweight doesn’t know what ‘nonsexual’ means.”
“Fairly sure Featherweight doesn't know what trois means either,” Pumpkin Cake muttered. “That’s more like quatre-vingts if you ask me.”
“Well, Featherweight is really handsome,” Silver Spoon said. “It only makes sense. Kind of tacky to do that where everypony can see you, though.”
Twist looked at Silver Spoon. There was a little bit of edge in her voice when she spoke. “Funny for you to say that.”
Silver Spoon frowned. “Excuse me?”
Twist didn’t reply immediately. Instead, she just glared at Silver Spoon, fire in her eyes, then nodded towards Sweetie Belle. “You didn’t seem to think that was tacky.”
“What are you even talking ab—oh, hell no!” Silver Spoon crossed her legs and glared back. “That was completely different, and you have no right to use it against me! the Sweetie Shuffle is a work of art!”
“Yeah, it is!” Sweetie Belle yelled, turning around with a great smile on her face. “What are we talking about?!”
“Nothing,” Silver Spoon said. “This loser is just trying to make me waste words.” She squinted. “Loser.”
“Yes. That reply would make more sense if you weren’t the one who started this conversation,” Twist said. “But okay, sure, whatever makes you happy.”
“I wasn’t starting a conversation, I was insulting you.” Silver Spoon raised her snout to the heavens. She was probably trying to look snobbish, but she just came off as very interested in the ceiling. “The expected reaction is for you to run away and cry yourself to sleep in the bathroom, not to reply.”
“Bathroom is occupied, though,” Pumpkin Cake said, getting between the two mares in an almost nonchalant way. “Some guy’s locked himself inside for, like, forever.”
“Oh, yeah. That’d be my fault,” Sweetie Belle smiled sheepishly. “Sorry!”
“Wait, what?” Twist looked around. “Bathroom? Singular? This place is huge! Are you telling me Diamond Tiara only has one of those?”
Silver Spoon shrugged. “She’s an only child. What’s the fun of being a daughter if you don’t make sure your dad can’t use the bathroom in the mornings?”
“Ugh.” Twist frowned. She had never really stopped frowning for a long time now, but somehow she managed to increase the frowniness of her face in a percentage relevant enough to be seen in plain sight. “Do you consciously and actively try to be as horrible as possible all the time, or it just comes naturally to you?”
The smile Silver Spoon gave her was the smile of a proud mother after her son scores in a hoofball match. “All natural.”
“Ugh.” Twist replied with the cold glare of a father whose child just pooped himself in a hoofball match. “Aren’t you charming sometimes, Silver Spoon.”
“Heheh.” Sweetie Belle said. She didn’t giggle—she literally said it out loud. Then she elbowed Silver Spoon. “The pillow probably agrees with you!”
“Hah! Good one!” Silver Spoon raised a hoof. “Up top!”
“Yeah!” Sweetie Belle said.
They hoof-bumped.
Pumpkin Cake and Twist stared.
A pause.
“Okay,” Twist eventually said. “I didn’t get that.”
“Me neither,” Pumpkin said.
“Hah! I did!” Silver Spoon raised a hoof. “Up top!”
“Yeah!” said Sweetie Belle.
They hoof-bumped.
Silence.
Sweetie Belle and Silver Spoon looked at Pumpkin and Twist with expectation, eyes sparkling.
Pumpkin Cake sighed. “You’re just looking for an excuse to do that a third time, aren’t you?”
“Hah! We—”
“Okay, no.” Twist shook her head. “I don’t know if you two are drunk or just flipping idiots, but I’m out of here.” She got up and walked away. “See you later, you two. And, Silver Spoon, do us a favor and jump off a cliff.”
“Yeah, get lost! You loser!” Silver Spoon said, shaking a hoof at Twist as she went downstairs. “We don’t want you here anyway!” The moment Twist disappeared from sight, she turned around, drank the entire cup she’d been carrying in one gulp, and crossed her legs. “Gaaaargh.”
Pumpkin waited a couple seconds to make sure Twist couldn't hear them, then looked at Silver Spoon. “Okay, what the hell was that?”
“What was what.”
“You called her a loser, like, fifteen times,” Sweetie Belle said.
“Yeah, and what about the ‘top game’ thing? Was that smart? That didn’t sound smart to me.”
Silver Spoon snorted again. “Don’t blame me,” she muttered, sitting on the floor and resting her back against the wall. She didn’t meet her friends with her eyes while talking. “It’s just, it’s just that she’s such an idiot that I can’t even focus on a good way to insult her. Like, it messes me up. She’s just the worst, I wish she’d never been—”
“You literally cannot wait to tap that, can you.”
“OH SWEET BABY CELESTIA EVERY NIGHT I DREAM OF HER.”
“I don’t get why you two aren’t together already,” Pumpkin Cake said, frowning at Silver Spoon. “I mean, she clearly hates you exactly as much as you hate her. And I haven’t seen a more heterosexual mare in my life.”
“I KNOW.”
“Maybe Twist is playing hard to get?” Sweetie Belle asked.
“I DON’T KNOW.”
“Gosh.” Pumpkin looked up and down at Silver Spoon, who was leaning against the wall now. “You are so desperate.”
“I WANT TO KISS HER AND SMOOCH HER AND SILVER SPOON WITH HER.”
Pumpkin’s wrinkled her muzzle. “Ew.”
Sweetie Belle smacked her on the back of her head. “Pumpkin, she means she wants to cuddle with her.”
“No, no. Her reaction’s right.” Silver Spoon shook her head. “I would just say ‘cuddle’ if I wanted to hug her or whatever. I want to Silver Spoon her. You know, that thing I do with my tail? And the glasses?”
“Oh.”
Silence.
Sweetie Belle wrinkled her muzzle. “Ew.”
“Hey, Twist also wears glasses!” Pumpkin said, punching Silver Spoon on the elbow. “You can do a double Silver Spoon with her!”
“Heavens, no. A lady should save such things for marriage,” Silver Spoon said. “ALSO SHE WILL NEVER DO ANYTHING WITH ME I SHOULD JUST GIVE UP ALREADY OH LUNA WHY IS MY LIFE SO SAD.”
“Maybe you aren’t trying hard enough?” Pumpkin asked, punching Silver Spoon on the elbow again. No real reason to, she just liked punching elbows. “Or you’re sending mixed signals? Are you sure she knows you hate-hate her?”
“AND WHAT WOULD YOU KNOW? YOU’RE A KID!” Silver Spoon yelled, covering her eyes with her hooves. “I’M NOT SO PATHETIC THAT I NEED TO GET LOVE ADVICE FROM A KID!”
“Yes you are.”
Silence.
“Yes I am. Sorry. I’m really drunk.”
“You are quite inexperienced in romance, though, she’s right about that.” Sweetie Belle looked at Pumpkin. “How come, anyway? You’re too pretty to be still single.”
“Yeah.” Pumpkin pointed at the ponies waiting in front of Pound Cake’s door. Most of the crowd had been dealt with already. “But my brother is as territorial as Scootaloo and I’m not going to mingle with a pony who smells like him.”
“Aaaaw, poor thing!” Before Pumpkin could do anything about it, Sweetie Belle tackled her with a bone-crushing hug. “I’m sure you’ll find love one day!”
“HGGGCCKRRK.”
“Oh. Damn. This again. I swear one day I’ll learn—”
“WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!”
The entire corridor fell in silence as Snips came out of Pound’s room, completely dressed up in the sexiest black lingerie ever made, and ran towards the stairs, drunken glee on his face.
“LOOOOOOOK AAAAAAAAT MEEEEEEEE!”
Pumpkin managed to get away from Sweetie Belle’s embrace—she felt her ribs poking at her insides—and looked at the clock on the wall. “Huh. Four o’clock sharp. Impressive.”
“Snips always reaches his drunken peak like clockwork,” Sweetie Belle muttered, following the stallion as he kept tumbling around. “The sexy lingerie’s a new one, though.”
“Oooh.” Silver Spoon’s eyes opened wide. “So that’s what she was—”
And then Snips jumped down the stairs.
“I’M A PREEEETTY PRIIIIIINCEEEEEEE—ARGH!” Blam! “UGH!” Plomf! “OH CELESTIA MY BACK!” Crack! “GAGH!” Plaf! “AAAAAAAAGGGGGHHH!”
Then, silence.
Sweetie Belle, Pumpkin Cake, and Silver Spoon all stared at Snips’ unconscious shape on the first floor. His body was twisted in a weird way.
“Should we help him?” Pumpkin eventually asked.
“Nah. Diamond Tiara’s job,” Silver Spoon said.
“Hey, now that I think about it…” Sweetie Belle nudged Silver Spoon. “Snips has the same cutie mark as Babs, but nobody thinks his is about sex. That’s weird.”
“Seriously,” Pumpkin continued. “He’s not moving.”
“I said ‘Diamond Tiara’s job’.”
“I guess his scissors are just not that sexy?”
Pumpkin sighed. “Well, at least I hope the ambulance comes soon.”
“Oh, definitely,” Silver Spoon said. “It isn’t a party till the paramedics arrive.”
Second Chapter: Sssssso, We Didn't, uh, We Didn't Exactly Go Uphill
“…and we locked eyes, you know?” Babs Seed was saying, looking at the crowd. Apple Bloom and Ruby Pinch had joined the five stallions and Diamond Tiara not so long ago. “And he said ‘Please, Babs. Please. Do it.’ And then I did it. I did it.”
They crowd gulped in unison. Rumble’s eyes were watery. Ruby Pinch was pale as a ghost.
Then Babs Seed clapped, making them all flinch. “And that’s how I discovered that cutie marks can have two meanings, and that mine was also about sex, way before hitting puberty! Then I ate the cake my mother baked. It was really good!”
There were a couple seconds of silence from the crowd until someone got the nerve to speak again. “Wow,” Apple Bloom finally said, her voice weak. “Kinda, uh, dark, ain’t it?”
“Weeell.” Babs Seed shrugged. “Not officially. They never found the body. And, yeah, it’s true that I carry the trauma to this day—the nightmares, they visit me every night, they take pleasure in my suffering—but that cake?” She waved a hoof. “Absolutely delicious. Made it all worth it.”
Silence.
“…Seriously?”
“Hah.” Babs’ eyes sparkled. It wasn’t a happy spark. “Of course not. I keep scrubbing and scrubbing, but the blood just won’t wash away. I hear his screams in the howling of the wind every morning. When I die, I know it will be him who killed me, back from the grave, to bring me to the void where we both belong.”
The pause that followed that statement was like a pregnant killer whale: heavy, big, and made you uncomfortable if you were in the same room. It also reeked of fish a little bit.
Babs took a sip of her cup, then nodded sagely. “Aaaah. None of you is sleeping tonight, are you.”
“Nope.”
“Nuh-huh.”
“I foresee a life of drinking till I pass out every night to suffocate the demons you just put in my mind, Babs,” Ruby Pinch said, gravely. “Just like my mother, I guess. She’ll be so proud.”
“Ah, hah, hah. Ruby, never change.” Babs looked at Diamond Tiara. “Anyway! DT, it’s your turn. Truth or Dare?”
Diamond Tiara flinched and leaned against Apple Bloom, getting as far away from Babs as possible. “Uh, o-okay. I’m going to say Truth, because no way I’m accepting a Dare from you now, Babs. No offense”
“Smart girl,” Apple Bloom whispered. “Not gonna lie, she sounded a little bit too melancholic about that stuff she talked ‘bout to my tastes.”
“See, this is why your family is poor,” DT whispered back. “No way we’re letting a bunch like you have any economical power.”
“Ah would disagree with you, but Ah’ve seen my sister kick a chimera to death before, so yeah.”
“Hey!” Babs said, raising her voice just a little bit. “Are you gonna play, or you’re too busy flirting with my cousin?”
“Busy flirting, but ask away.”
“Okay.” Babs put her cup on the floor and scratched her cheek, frowning. “Let’s see… What is your deepest fear, DT? And I mean deepest. Like, the thing that keeps you awake at night. Feel free to take your time to—”
“Salamanders,” Diamond Tiara said. “They’re icky. My turn!”
“…Well, that was disappointing,” Babs muttered.
“Hey,” Rumble said, poking her on the shoulder. “After your answer, I’m kind of glad this one was so, you know. Not mentally scarring.”
“You Ponyvillians don’t know how to party.”
“Okay, so my turn now.” Diamond Tiara got away from Apple Bloom and stretched her shoulders. “Apple Bloom. Truth or Dare?”
“Dare.”
“Oh-hoh-hoh.” Diamond Tiara rubbed her hooves together. “Perfect. I Dare you to cut off your tail!”
The crowd gasped. Apple Bloom flinched and frowned so hard her eyes looked like triangles for a second or two. Rumble made a grunting noise. Babs Seed didn’t change her expression.
Silence ensued.
Diamond Tiara blinked, then looked around. “What? That’s what the game is about, right? Doing stupid stuff?”
“DT.” Apple Bloom rubbed the space between her eyes. “Please, take this seriously. Truth or Dare is not a game, and you know it.”
“I’m taking it seriously! Cut your tail off. It’s just hair, Apple Bloom.” Diamond Tiara made a huff. “What, you’re too much of a wuss to do that?”
“That’s self-mutilation!” Apple Bloom said. “It’s explicitly stated in the rules that self-mutilation is against the spirit of the game!”
“Hey, it’s not self-mutilation if it’s hair.”
“No, that’s just if it’s your mane. Tails are prehensile. That makes ‘em count as a limb,” Apple Bloom said. “And Article Seventy-Three of the Truth or Dare Constitution clearly establishes that major damage to any body part, like for example a limb, is strictly forbidden!”
“Excuse you,” Diamond Tiara said, “but Article Twenty-Two doesn’t list tails as ‘limbs’ at all. Article Seventy-Three doesn’t apply here.”
“What?!”
Babs Seed blinked twice, then looked at Rumble. “Uh… What?”
“We told you Truth and Dare is serious business in Ponyville,” Rumble said.
“Apple Bloom, we both know that the Council of Nineteen Sixty-Five cleared up the amount of stuff a Dare can do, and cutting your mane is perfectly okay!”
“Oh, don’t come here quotin’ Sixty-Five because Ah know you know that was a sham! It went against the very spirit of the Foundin’ Mares Declaration!”
“A sham that was validated by the general public!” Diamond Tiara slammed her hooves on the table. “Party Law is supposed to evolve with time, Apple Bloom, and the opinion of ponies who lived centuries ago don’t matter anymore!”
“I’m fairly sure this goes beyond ‘taking it seriously’, Rumble,” Babs Seed said. “What the hell are they talking about?”
“You try to live in the same town as her without knowing the ins and outs of party games, Babs,” Rumble said. He shivered when he said the word “her”. “That just doesn’t happen. Truth or Dare is an important matter, and don’t you dare try to say that the Constitution is stupid, because you’ll get in trouble.”
“What? Is the Party Police going to come after me, or…?”
“No, but she will.” Babs could hear the italics in Rumble’s voice. “We’re under her jurisdiction. She’ll know what you said. She’ll hunt you. And she’ll find you. Do not mess with the Constitution in Ponyville.”
“That Declaration is the basis of the entire Truth or Dare society, Diamond Tiara!” Apple Bloom was saying, red in the face. “And the Fourth Major Principle says there’s an acceptable level of pain, and cuttin’ off stuff is too much!”
“The Declaration was made for a society with different morals!” Diamond Tiara said. “You can’t be stuck on the past forever, you fascist!”
“You moderates have no respect for tradition!”
DT scoffed. “Cutting your tail doesn’t hurt at all. It’s hair. You drama-queen.”
Babs Seed raised a hoof and wagged her tiny tail. “Ah! I’m with DT there. Cutting your tail doesn’t hurt that much.”
“See? You cousin agrees with me!” Diamond Tiara said. “That’s two against one!”
“Yes, because I’m going to trust the psycho when it comes to self-mutilation!” Apple Bloom yelled back. Then she looked at her cousin. “No offense, cuz.”
“None taken. Though I’m not a psycho. I feel remorse and shame, and—not going to lie here—a little bit of arousal, but not indifference. Not a psycho, just messed up.” Babs shrugged. “You got a point, though.”
“My mother cut her tail off once, in a drunken fit,” Ruby Pinch said. Her voice was as weak as a miner with no pet bird, and she was looking at the floor, grasping her cup. “She cried. But then again, she always cries when she gets drunk.”
Babs eyed Ruby. “Gosh, you’re so hot right now.”
Ruby squinted. “Whenever I hear her crying at night, I know I’ll wake up to find her asleep in a puddle of her own vomit.”
“Unf. I love it when I’m the mentally healthy one.”
“Oookay.” Rumble moved away from Babs. “Yes. That aside, I think I’m with Apple Bloom here. I wouldn’t allow the tail-cutting, although I’m not really sure.”
“Well then!” Apple Bloom said, still staring at Diamond Tiara. “So the drunk mother and the psycho side with you, and Rumble sides with me! Looks like Ah’ve won!”
“Hah! As if!” Diamond Tiara pointed at Apple Bloom’s tail. “That’s going off before the night ends, and that’s a promise! We’re going to consult an expert right now, and you better not—”
“I’M A PREEEETTY PRIIIIIINCEEEEEEE—ARGH!” Blam! “UGH!” Plomf! “OH CELESTIA MY BACK!” Crack! “GAGH!” Plaf! “AAAAAAAAGGGGGHHH!”
Then, silence.
Rumble frowned. “It’s four a.m.? Already? Wow. Time flies.”
“I knew that sexy lingerie would pay off,” Diamond Tiara said, her voice grave and deep. “That was amazing. Top-notch entertainment.”
“Gotta give it to you,” Apple Bloom said, nodding. “It was. You callin’ an ambulance?”
“Sure. It’s not a party until the paramedics arrive.”
“Ah just wish they actually did their job instead of joinin’ the party, though.”
“Meh. Snips can wait till the morning. Or, wait.” She turned around. “Is he moving?”
Apple Bloom looked, too. “No.”
“Then yeah he can wait till the morning.”
“...And then Ruby Pinch, like, pulled my mane? And then she asked me to do the same to her, right? But that means she’s trying to get a grip on me while I try to do the same, and it was such a mess we ended up kind of fighting. And I’m not talking a cute gentle fight, oh no. I’m talking bloody warfare here.”
“Uh-huh.”
“And she had never had any kind of intimate contact before—total virgin, seriously—so it got clumsy. Two minutes later, there were are, punching and biting and stuff, and then she pokes me in the eye and starts screaming ‘MOMMY! MOMMY!’ at me.”
Twist squinted and took a puff of her cigarette. “You really don’t need to share these kind of details, Dinky. If you’re uncomfortable—”
“At this point, I’ve forgotten we’re supposed to have sex, so I just like, rode the wave, you know? ‘YEAH, WHO’S YOUR MOMMA? WHO’S YOUR MOMMA?’ and all that. Punched her in the throat.” Dinky gave Twist a smile. “Seemed fitting!”
“You’re a hopeless romantic.”
“Hell yeah, Ruby Pinch thought the same. She lost it right there. Best sex of my life.” Dinky let out a satisfied sigh. “Then she started to cry.”
Twist blinked, then looked at Dinky. “Ruby started to cry?”
“Yeah.”
“In the middle of the sex?”
“Yeah! She was whispering something, too? “Something something mother mother why won’t you love me.” Poor thing was sobbing like a scared toddler, just couldn’t stop.”
“Gosh.” Twist frowned, holding her cigarette between her lips. “That’s—gosh. Poor Ruby. I guess she—”
“And I’ve seriously never been so turned on in my life.”
“Okay, never mind Ruby. Clearly, you are the one who needs help.” Twist gave another puff of her cigarette and looked up and over to Dinky, who was smirking at her. “You used to be such an innocent child. What the hell happened to you?”
“Puberty! Also, the constant monster attacks to Ponyville left me feeling so helpless and scared that the only way to cope with my own pathos is to find somepony that’s even worse than me.” Dinky sounded peppy like a butterfly in Spring. “That way, I get at least some sense of control. Because I am not surrounded by monsters; I am the monster!”
Silence.
“Mostly puberty, though.”
“Definitely.”
They were sitting on top of Maison du Riche’s roof, looking at the stars, muffled music coming from below, their silhouettes drawn against the moon in a picture that would be later described as “pretty f’kin tight if y’ask me.” They had chosen to go up there to get away from the party and contemplate life’s beauty in a bohemian and melancholic way.
Also to smoke and get even more drunk. But the bohemian stuff sounded better.
“I need to give it to you, though,” Twist said, and then she gave Dinky her cigarette, because there was nothing better than coordinating gestures to words, no matter how unrelated they were. Dinky accepted the cigarette with a squee that was doubtlessly appreciative of Twist’s efforts to be internally consistent all the time. “You are not the only one.”
“Ah?” Dinky took a puff from the cigarette. She had never really learned how to do it, to be honest—she merely got some smoke in her mouth, then she let it go. She looked like an idiot, but of the adorable sort, so nopony had ever talked her out of the habit. “I’m not the wha?”
“The only one. Who changed, I mean?” Twist made a broad gesture with her right foreleg—as if pointing out the empty front garden, the house, the party below them. “Five years ago, this would have been impossible. We’re at Diamond Tiara’s party, for Celestia’s sake. Do you know how many times she made me cry as a foal?”
“Yeah,” Dinky said, arching an eyebrow. “A number somewhat between zero and none, I think.”
Twist frowned. “Well. Okay, yeah, they never really got to me, but—”
“More like you never even got they were picking on you, I think.”
“I—”
“You were a pretty stupid kid, Twist.”
“Oh, yeah, not getting that from you of all ponies.” Twist sneered and looked back to the front garden, face getting a little more melancholic than usual. As in, she kind of squinted, made a pout, and hoped to look interesting instead of slightly stoned. “But the thing is, we didn’t get along at all, right? And suddenly, bam! Puberty comes, and we’re all buddies.”
“Well, we have more or less the same interests, don’t we?” Dinky said, shrugging and doing her fake-smoking trick again. “So we bond over that.”
“Hobbies. You mean having horrifying sex and fearing death?”
“Yeah!”
Dinky stared at the moon, too, but she didn’t bother looking melancholic. “Also, the magic of friendship!”
“Exactly!” Twist patted Dinky’s back. “The magic of friendship, you got it right there. Do you realize we’re the first generation that’s been raised with that idea?”
“Wha?”
“Seriously! Like, okay, so we have Hearth’s Warming Eve, that holiday’s all about bonding, I’ll give you that.” Twist chose to get her cigarette back from Dinky at that moment, even though the gesture wasn’t completely coordinated with her words. Twist liked to be internally consistent, but she was also a huge hypocrite. “But it’s just a holiday, nothing that we really think about too much.”
“What about Hearts and Hooves?”
“Nah. That’s about love. I’m talking friendship.” Twist took a puff from the cigarette. “Like, pony society has always been based on friendship and the like? It’s a huge part of our culture. Our language and race and festivities are all based around it. However, we’re the first real friendship-centered generation, I think.”
“And why is that?”
“Because, well.” Twist arched an eyebrow. “Our parents were raised with tales on how friendship is a good thing. We have seen friendship-powered rainbows kill monsters every two days since we were five years old.”
Silence.
“Okay.” Dinky nodded. “Point taken.”
“So, like,” Twist continued, looking back at the moon, “we have this weird dichotomy, right? On the one hoof, we’re all about friendship. We literally can’t live without friendship. The fact that we can stand being in the same neighborhood as Diamond Tiara is enough proof of that.”
“Yeah. When you think about it, she did do some pretty nasty stuff.” Dinky rubbed her chin thoughtfully. One could tell she was doing it that way instead of unthoughtfully because she also squinted and looked stoned while doing it. “Like, remember when she got that hatchet and tried to kill us all? When we were thirteen? That was weird.”
“Hahah. Yeah. Heavens, we’re all so damaged. That’s adult life for you." Twist sighed. "Bottle up your feelings and make sure you’re alone when you cry, then die.” She took another puff of her cigarette. “But that’s kind of the thing, too, right?”
Dinky cocked her head to the side. “What?”
“I told you there’s a dichotomy, remember?” Twist waved a hoof. “On the one hoof, we’re all about friendship, just like our parents—and Twilight Sparkle, I guess—taught us. On the other hoof…” She made that broad gesture again. “This is exactly the opposite of what they taught us.”
Dinky looked down to the garden. “You mean how we’re having fun?”
“I’m talking about the party. Like, everything about it—the music, the alcohol, the sex…”
“So. You mean how we’re having fun.”
“More or less, yeah.” Twist sighed. “I don’t know, Dinky. I don’t think this kind of thing has been done before. Sure, they know how to party and all that? But their parties aren’t like this.”
“Well.” Dinky licked her lips in what was supposed to be a contemplative gesture but just came out as weird, with a subtle hint of arousing. “Pinkie Pie makes awesome parties, but they aren’t like this, that’s for sure.”
“Exactly!” Twist smiled and patted Dinky on the head. “That’s what I mean—this is, like, the total opposite of what our parents used to do. And we know that! That’s what the whole ‘we’re being responsible’ thing is all about, right? We’re supposed to act one way, so we obviously do the exact opposite.”
“So we get drunk and have sex?”
“Yes.” Twist nodded. “Although I’d say we’re just, uh, establishing our individuality as a generation. Sounds better. That’s what makes us special—we need to follow their teachings, but we still want to feel like we’re ourselves. That means rebellion, to a degree.”
“So we get drunk and have sex.”
Twist frowned. “You know, you’re starting to sound repetitive, Dinky.”
“And you’re starting to sound like a smartass.” Dinky shook her head and patted Twist on the shoulder, getting the cigarette back and giving it a fake-puff of her own. “Do you know what I think? We’re scared of dying, so we live hard. We were also robbed of a childhood because we’ve always been scared of dying, so we live harder.” She smirked. “And you’re talking about this because you don’t want to talk about Silver Spoon.”
Twist stiffened, but didn’t say a word.
“Hah. Square on the nail, wasn’t it?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“I was talking about sex with Ruby Pinch. Every time I talk about sex—”
“Something that happens way too often, if you ask me.”
“—Every time I talk about sex,” Dinky continued, “I end up asking the same question, and you always tell me the same, so—”
“Hey, maybe that means you should stop asking!” Twist said, forcing a smile that showed way too many teeth. “You ever thought of that?”
“Not really!”
“Gagh.”
“The thing is,” Dinky said, finishing the cigarette and throwing it away, “that you have something going on with Silver Spoon, and tonight’s the perfect day to settle it up! You should go for it!”
“I have absolutely nothing going on with her,” Twist said. Her voice was ice-cold. “And you know that.”
“Well. Yeah.” Dinky poked Twist in the stomach. “That’s the thing. Do you know how many ponies have been with Silver Spoon? Like, in a sexy way?”
“I don’t—”
“All of them.” Dinky pointed down. “Literally everypony in this party, but you. That definitely means something.”
Twist glared. “Yes. It means that, unlike you, I don’t care for sex.”
“Oh, come on. You think I was born yesterday? I’ve known you for way too long. You’ve been giving me this long-ass speech on how we all want to have as much sex as possible, and now you say you’re different?” Dinky looked Twist up and down. “Also, you look straight as an arrow. That says a lot.”
“I just don’t like Silver Spoon. That’s all.” Twist looked away. “I refuse to continue this conversation.”
“You’ve got such a hate-crush on her you came to this party just to insult her to her face, then went away the moment she paid more attention to Sweetie Belle than to you.”
A pause.
Twist looked at Dinky. “Uh?”
“What, you think I didn’t hear that? Sweetie Belle doesn’t have enough stamina to tire this mare out, thank you very much. I’ve had rides with Ruby, remember?”
“Ugh.” Twist made a grimace. “Stop saying that.”
“Oh, come on! Everything would be easier for everypony if you just got to it.” Dinky shook her head. “It’s like Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle. Or Diamond Tiara and Apple Bloom, if you want me to be honest. You all should make it official already, instead of just fooling around and acting as if you don’t want to be together.”
“You realize you’re saying that after admitting that you shagged Sweetie Belle and are in love with Ruby in the exact same sentence, right?”
“Yes, but I like being a hypocrite now and then.” Dinky shrugged. “I wanna make it official with Ruby, too. Eventually.”
“Eventually.”
“Yeah.”
“So, once you’re tired of fooling around with literally everypony else?”
“Yeah. I know she’s into me, and I know she knows I’m into her.” Dinky smiled. “So, if she sees me being with others? Luna, that’s an extra bunch of abandonment issues that I just brought to her table. Do you realize how amazing our next time is going to be?”
“And I tell you that if I break this thing on somepony’s head,” Diamond Tiara said, raising the almost empty bottle of whiskey she’d been carrying for quite a while now, “that somepony’s gonna get knocked out instantly! That’s how it always works!”
“Sure. In movies.” Apple Bloom rolled her eyes and tapped her own head twice. “This thing’s harder than a lil’ bottle, Diamond Tiara.”
“Well, your head, sure. I know as a fact you’re extremely thick, Apple Bloom.”
Apple Bloom beamed a smile. “Thank you!”
“Oh, you are so welcome.”
“Bottle still ain’t gonna knock anypony out, though.”
Babs Seed ran away to chase some random mare, and Ruby had excused herself because she had to drink alone to forget, but Rumble, Diamond Tiara, and Apple Bloom were still sitting on the exact same spot as before. If anything, because there was just so much alcohol there—going away would be a travesty.
“Oh, please.” DT sneered at Apple Bloom. “You’re obviously contradicting me just for the sake of it. Broken bottles knock ponies out. It’s how it works in movies!”
Rumble nodded and pointed at Diamond Tiara. “That’s a compelling point.”
“Yeah, but Ah’m an Apple! Do you have any idea just how many times Ah’ve been in bar brawls?”
Rumble frowned and looked at Apple Bloom. “Hm. Another compelling point.”
“Oh, yeah. Rednecks.” Diamond Tiara looked down and tapped her chin. “Hmmm. I’m smarter than you?” She looked at Rumble. “Does that count as an argument?”
“Well, she just admitted she’s a redneck, so I’d say that—”
“Rumble.” Apple Bloom glared. “Be careful how you finish that. A beatin’ can be close to you.”
Silence.
Rumble licked his lips. “I’d say,” he continued, talking really slowly, “that she is exactly as smart as her sister.”
Apple Bloom smirked at Diamond Tiara. “HAH! Take that!”
“Oh, Apple Bloom.” DT shook her head and leaned against Apple Bloom. “You’re so cute sometimes. Like a puppy trying to catch her tail and asking others to take her seriously.”
“Aw, shucks. You’re cute too, DT.” Then she looked away. “Hey, was that the doorbell?”
“I think so,” Rumble said. “Maybe you should go get it instead of being gay all over me.”
“Who the hell would ring the bell now?” Diamond Tiara grunted and got up, stretching her back a little bit and never letting the bottle of whiskey go. She took another chug once she managed to be on all fours, more or less. “Gagh.”
“Hey, can you walk?” Apple Bloom said, looking at her with a frown. “You’re stumblin’.”
Diamond Tiara looked down at her hooves, then up at Apple Bloom. “Nah,” she lied. “I think I need help to get there.” She gave Rumble a perfectly innocent look and made sure not to glance at Apple Bloom at all. “You mind being a gentlecolt and helping me walk there?”
“I—”
“No need to!” Apple Bloom immediately said as she got up leaned against Diamond Tiara, half-carrying her from under the armpits, their flanks pressed against each other. “See? Ah can walk you just fine!”
“Oh.” Diamond Tiara smiled and blinked at Apple Bloom many times, her eyelashes fluttering in the wind. “Why, I certainly didn’t want to bother you, but of course, you can walk me.” Then she snuggled her, just a little. Perfectly platonic. “To the door. Or, like, wherever.”
“Hahah. You’re so drunk.”
“See you later, Rumble!” Diamond Tiara said, waving goodbye to her friend with the bottle of whiskey as Apple Bloom dragged her to the door. “I think Lemon Daze was looking for you!”
“Hey, why are you sayin’ bye?” Apple Bloom stumbled, and had to get a better grip of Diamond Tiara to avoid falling down. It was actually rather tricky to walk inside that house—there were ponies everywhere, and most of them were either drunk or… dancing, for the lack of a better word. At one point they had to take a huge detour to avoid walking over Featherweight and his nonsexual ménage a many. “We’re just gonna open the door and—uh. Are you sniffin’ my mane?”
“What? No.” Diamond Tiara buried her muzzle a little deeper in Apple Bloom’s mane . “Just your imagination.”
“You’re so subtle sometimes, did you know that?”
“You smell of apples. Sexy apples.”
“Yeeah. Maybe you should stop drinkin’ for a while.” Apple Bloom finally managed to get to the door—the doorbell was still ringing—and took the whiskey bottle from Diamond Tiara’s hoof, only to find it almost empty. She let out a sigh and drank what was left in one go. “There.” Then they went on walking. “Better.”
“Heheheh.” Diamond Tiara got her face out of Apple Bloom’s mane and grinned at her, then got her whiskey bottle back. “You drank from it! And my mouth was aaaall over it before!.”
“DT, we’ve had sex, like, five times already. Ah’ve had more things than your saliva in my mouth.”
“We shared a boooottleeeeeeee!”
Apple Bloom rolled her eyes, and opened the door.
“Hey there!” she said. Then she looked at who was at the other side and, baffled, added “Spike?”
“Hello, Apple Bloom!” Spike said, smiling at her. The years hadn’t been gentle on the young dragon—the once small, cute, childish baby dragon had grown up to be the exact same small, cute, childish baby dragon. Dragons hit their puberty at sixty. “Sorry to interrupt your party!”
“Spike? What the hay are you doin’ here?” Apple Bloom said. “It’s way too late for you to be up!”
“Actually, it’s early for me to be up, but that doesn’t matter,” Spike said. “The Cakes wanted Pinkie to check on the twins, but Pinkie said she was getting too old to pop up in birthdays just like this, because it would mess up the party.”
“Oh, yeah.” Apple Bloom nodded. “Article seventy-four.”
“Exactly!”
“So they sent you instead?” Apple Bloom cocked her head to the side. “It’s an… interesting choice I guess?”
“Well, Pinkie said they needed somepony hip and young, who could blend with the young crowd. And Twilight said she wasn’t fit to do that anymore, and I was around, and they said ‘Hey, Spike! You’re pretty hip, or at least a knee! What if you—’”
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH!”
As far as bloodcurdling screams went, Diamond Tiara wasn’t the best mare in town—that title had to go to no other than Ruby Pinch, who, to be fair, had had way more practice at them than anypony else—but that holler? That was world league stuff. She screamed the kind of scream that starts a legend.
She screamed the scream of a wild hog seeing two harmless ponies and killing them in front of their three loving children.
She screamed the scream of a young father being told by the doctor that no, that’s the umbilical cord, you’re looking for that tiny thing—hey, what do you want us to do? Some are born well-endowed, some have to buy really big cars to feel good later in life.
She screamed the scream of somepony who’s scared of salamanders and just saw a big, two-legged, talking lizard knocking at her door.
Now, how does one react to that?
Well, there are many ways.
Apple Bloom, for example, didn’t react well. It was somewhat understandable—last time she’d heard something similar, her parents had been killed in front of her eyes. So she flinched and jumped away, curling up in a ball on the ground, the sound of fangs ripping flesh ringing in her ears. She was trembling a little bit.
The ponies at the party mostly flinched, and some stumbled, but overall they took it pretty well. Some turned around to see what was happening, but there were no casualties.
TONK!
And Spike fell to the ground, his head exploding in pain.
THUD!
Of course, that wasn’t as much because of the scream as it was because of the bottle of whiskey that landed on his head with all the strength of a startled Diamond Tiara.
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH!”
TONK!
Now, would Spike have retained consciousness if Diamond Tiara had only hit him once? Probably.
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH!”
TONK! TONK! TONK!
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH!”
TONK! TONK! TONK!
The way things went, however, Spike certainly lost consciousness pretty quickly. If not after the first strike, definitely after the fourteenth.
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH!”
TONK! TONK! TONK! TONK! TONK! TONK! TONK! TONK!
Later, when asked about the scene, Featherweight would say that he eventually got bored of seeing Diamond Tiara bludgeoning Spike and went back to his business without saying a word because, well, “nonsexual” stuff is more important than the wellbeing of Spike the Dragon.
And overall, that seemed to be the most popular opinion at the party, because by the time Apple Bloom finally managed to repress her flashbacks and stop daydreaming of the day she saw Applejack dig her parents’ graves, seventeen minutes had passed and Diamond Tiara was still hammering Spike with that freaking bottle of whiskey. Not even Diamond Tiara herself seemed to be interested in it anymore—she was kind of half-assing the job.
“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaargh,” she was saying, bringing the bottle down with the strength of an apoplectic moose. Clonk, clonk, clonk. “Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaargh.” Clonk, clonk.
“Ugh.” Apple Bloom had to shake her head a couple times. She had a headache now—nightmarish flashbacks were horrible for her migraines—and had dark bags under her eyes, so she sat down and rested her back against the corner right next to the door. “Um, DT?” she asked, her voice weak.
“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaargh?”
“Ah’m not sure what are you doin’, but… Maybe you should stop doin’ it?”
“Dear Luna, finally!” Diamond Tiara got away from Spike and sat down on the floor, sighing with relief. “I’ve waiting for somepony to ask me to stop for ages, I can barely move my leg anymore.” She looked at the hoof that was holding the bottle of whiskey and twirled it a little bit. “Oh, this is going to hurt so much tomorrow.”
“…Okay.” Apple Bloom sighed and looked at Diamond Tiara. “So.” She pointed at Spike. “What was that?”
“Hm?” Diamond Tiara followed Apple Bloom’s hoof and looked at Spike. “Oh, the attack? Yeah, I mistook him for a salamander or whatever and got startled. He appeared so suddenly, I acted on reflex.”
Apple Bloom blinked really slowly. “We’d been talkin’ for three minutes before you went at him,” she said.
“I acted on a slow reflex.”
“And Ah gotta understand you never noticed he was Spike till Ah told you?”
Diamond Tiara rolled her eyes. “Celestia, no. How dumb do you think I am? I just thought it would be awkward to stop just like that. I was waiting for somepony to break the ice.” She frowned and turned around. “HEY, THANKS FOR THE HELP, BY THE WA—oh, woah. Get a room, Featherweight.”
Featherweight tried to answer, but his mouth was rather full at the moment. “Hmpfff-pffff!”
“Hahah.” Diamond Tiara smiled before turning to face Spike again. “You’re so gross. Any—woah! Boy, it sure looked like there was less blood on him when I was screaming and stuff.”
“Ah think that’s ‘cause he’s still bleedin’,” Apple Bloom said, her tone bored.
A couple seconds passed.
Spike didn’t move.
“You know, something tells me we should react a little more strongly to this whole situation. Call it instinct.”
“Eh.” Apple Bloom shrugged. “Ah’m emotionally drained, and you are clearly some kind of minor psychopath.”
“Oh, yeah. Comes with being born rich. Zero moral compass.”
“Eeyup.”
More seconds passed.
“Hey, wait a second.” Diamond Tiara looked at the bottle of whiskey in her hooves. “I actually did it!”
Apple Bloom looked at her. “What?”
“You said a bottle wouldn’t knock out a pony, and yet look at that!” Diamond Tiara pointed at Spike, who by this point was more hilariously bloody pulp of scales than dragon. “I win! Now you gotta cut your tail!”
“Okay: first thing, that was a Dare and had nothin’ to do with this. You’re drunk. Second: nah. You said you would break the bottle against somepony’s head. You just swung it. Not the same.” Apple Bloom frowned. “Gotta give it to you, though—stuff’s harder than Ah thought.”
“Hmmmm.” Diamond Tiara got up and walked towards Spike, then looked at the bottle. “Well, it’s true that it didn’t break, but maybe if I—”
“DT.”
“Yes?”
“You are not hittin’ Spike with that bottle again.”
“But maybe this time it will break!”
“No.”
“But this is for the greater good, Apple Bloom!”
“Hey!” A third voice came from behind, and both Diamond Tiara and Apple Bloom turned around to see a panting Twist, running downstairs—she had to jump over Snips, who was still lying on the floor—with a huge frown on her face. “Tiara! Stop doing that!”
“Hello, Twist,” Apple Bloom said, not getting up. “Long time no see.”
“DON’T WORRY, MY DEAR, I’M HERE TO—oh, hey.” Dinky appeared right behind Twist. She wasn’t panting half as much as her. “Where’s Ruby Pinch?”
Diamond Tiara didn’t lower the bottle. “Ruby?”
“Yeah! I was sure she was around here?” Dinky looked around, frowning a little. “We heard her screaming when you started hitting Spike.”
“Ruby ain’t here,” Apple Bloom said. “Well, unless she’s tangled with Featherweight there—Ah can’t really tell who’s in there no more.”
“Hmmmpf-mmpppfffff.”
“Oh. Okay, he says she ain’t there either.”
“Aw.” Dinky made a pout. “I thought you were scaring her! I was getting so ready for some hooba-hooba later. Who was the one screaming, then?”
Diamond Tiara pointed at herself. “Me.”
Dinky blinked. “You?”
“Me.”
“You can scream like that?”
“Me doesn’t like lizards.”
“Huh.” Dinky scratched her chin, then looked at Diamond Tiara with a small squint and took a step towards her. There was a grin in her voice. “You know, you’re way sexier than I thought.”
“Okay, yes, Ah’m gonna stop you right there, cowgirl.” Apple Bloom glared daggers at Dinky. The bags under her eyes made them look poisonous. “Better for you not to walk that walk tonight.”
“Woah, hey.” Dinky took a step back and raised her hooves in a gesture of surrender. “I thought Scoots was the territorial one.”
“Why are you here for anyway?” Apple Bloom asked, turning to Twist and making a mental note to ignore Dinky from now on. “You wanna go with Ruby too?”
Twist rolled her eyes. “No? I just came here because I saw you, you know, bludgeoning Spike. I thought that, hey, maybe preventing a murder would be a good idea.” She looked around, at all the ponies ignoring the scene with all their might. “Apparently I was the only one who thought that was bad, though.”
“Oh. Oh, yeah.” Apple Bloom scratched the space between her eyes. “Sorry. Yes. Spike. We gotta help Spike.”
“Huh.” Twist crossed the room towards Apple Bloom and kneeled down in front of her. “Hey, you okay? You seem a little off.”
“Yeah Ah just had an incident. Nothin’ much.”
“Incident?” Twist bit her lip. “Anything I can do to help?”
“Well, depends.” Apple Bloom glared at her. “You ever saw the insides of your folks gleamin’ against the mornin’ sun, Twist? You ever heard them givin’ up their last breath? Do you live knowin’ the trees you eat from every day were watered with their blood?”
A pause.
Twist blinked. “Uh. Nnnno. I’d say no.”
“Then you can’t help.”
“Woah.” Dinky stared at Apple Bloom, a slow grin coming over her. “Holy damn, Apple Bloom, I think you just broke a new record. Say, do you want to look for some place more private and…?”
“Why, yes. Some invigoratin’ sex with a psycho. That will solve all my problems, won’t it?”
Dinky winked at her, and somehow that was worse than the grin. It was the wink of a stallion showing the teacher a whip and asking if there's anything he can do to make sure his son passes his classes. “Hey, you can try!”
“Okay, yes, back off.” It was DT’s turn to glare. She even got between her and Apple Bloom and pointed at Dinky with the bottle of whiskey and all. “Shoo.”
“Yes, yes.” Dinky rolled her eyes and took another step back. “Geez. Learn to take a joke you two. Twist, a little help?”
“I think that was Dinky’s way of telling you she’s here if you need help, Apple Bloom,” Twist said, patting Apple Bloom’s hoof. “So… cheer up?”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Dinky said, pushing the bottle of whiskey aside. “That was my way of telling her I’m here if she needs hooba-hooba. I seriously couldn’t care less about her needing help.”
Diamond Tiara growled at that, so Twist got up and took the bottle from her. “Ooookay you know what?” she said. “Let’s focus on Spike. I’m sure he—oh wow he’s still bleeding?”
“Yeah. Lotsa blood for someone that little, don’tcha think?” Apple Bloom said. “We should do somethin’.”
“Well, the paramedics are already here, right?” Twist looked at Diamond Tiara. “You called them when Snips fell down?”
“Yes, but good luck finding them,” Diamond Tiara said, getting her eyes off Dinky for the first time in an eternity. “By now they’ll be either drunk or drowning in genitalia.” A small pause. “Probably both.”
“Ain’t no party till the paramedics arrive,” Apple Bloom said, nodding. “Shame they also know that.”
“Well, it’s our best option. Unless somepony in here knows first aid?” Twist looked at the three other mares. “By any chance?”
“Nope.”
“Nuh-uh.”
“Nah.”
“Gosh, we’re so prepared for the real world.” Twist shook her head and helped Apple Bloom get up. “Okay, so we should get Spike and look for—”
“Two teams,” Apple Bloom said, picking up Spike and putting him on her back. “You and DT go upstairs, Twist. Dinky and Ah will take care of this floor. We’ll go faster.”
Diamond Tiara arched an eyebrow. “You sure? I think I should go with you instead.”
“Nah. You don’t. Upstairs’ a maze, and this is your house—you’re better there. And Ah don’t feel like walkin’ up stairs.” Apple Bloom shook her head. “No. We meet here in half an hour, bring the paramedics if you find ‘em.”
“And then’s when the Third Amendment was signed,” Pumpkin Cake said as she opened what seemed like the thousandth cupboard in the kitchen. Plates and cutlery. Tch. She moved to the next one. Even more plates. “At first it wasn’t well-received, but eventually everypony agreed that it was necessary, so we finally moved on to the Party Streamers Regulation.”
Babs Seed, sitting at the table, was resting her head on her hooves. “Uh-huh,” she said.
“Now, that’s an interesting tale…” Next cupboard: more plates. “You see, there was this huge void in the party streamers law, because it used the term particus fantasticus which… Wasn’t used anymore? Like, at all? You need to understand that the text of that law wasn’t written by anypony—they just took the law from the Olden Times and translated it directly from Old Equus.”
Babs nodded. Her eyes were lost in the distance. “Of course.”
“But particus fantasticus—which actually translates as ‘lost in a sea of limbs’, because Old Equus is weird—was used as a proper name, a term for something that old teachers would describe as—oh, are you KIDDING ME?!” Pumpkin Cake slammed the cupboard shut with a roar upon seeing what was inside. “JUST HOW MANY PLATES DOES THIS HOUSE HAVE?!”
Babs’ eyes remained unfocused. Her voice had such a bored tone it almost sounded dreamy. “I don’t know. A lot?”
“HOW CAN YOU HAVE SO MANY PLATES WITHOUT ANY FOOD?!”
“No idea. Why do you want it anyway? There are snacks by the living room.”
It was somewhat of a non-written party rule in Ponyville—as opposed to the hundred written party rules they already had—that the kitchen was to be raided upon the first twelve minutes of the night, and then left to be forgotten unless somehow the alcohol ran out.
This was part common courtesy, part pragmatism. The kitchen just wasn’t that good a place to stay during a party—if you wanted to dance or have a good time you could go to the living room. If you wanted some action you had the bathroom or the bedrooms. Maybe if you wanted to have a quiet conversation the kitchen would be an option, but that’s what corridors were for.
However, Pumpkin Cake seemed to think otherwise. With a strength no mare her age should have, she had grabbed Babs and dragged her to the empty kitchen to sit there and listen while she did “important business”, using her words. Babs would have said no, but the kid was really strong, and everypony looked at them like she had to follow Pumpkin, Celestia knows why.
“To bake a cake, that’s why!” Pumpkin said, opening the next cupboard with the strength of a clown beating up a funeral organizer. Babs flinched a little bit at that, blinking her eyes open and looking over at Pumpkin who seemed to be half buried in a cupboard, her voice muffled but audible. “We’re almost three quarters done with this party, and yet nopony has baked a cake, so I’m taking responsibility because everypony else is busy getting drunk or shagging my brother!”
“Hey,” Babs said, “perfectly fine ways to pass the time.”
“Yes, but we still need at least one cake. I can’t believe Diamond Tiara is being so irresponsible with this. I am not going to drink alcohol or get with Pound, thank you very much, and you need some educating. So we’re baking the cake. Two birds, one stone— ” Pumpkin let out a roar and slammed shut the next cupboard, “—AND SEVEN THOUSAND FLIPPIN’ PLATES! WHO NEEDS THIS MUCH TABLEWARE?! WHERE IS THE FREAKING FLOUR?!”
“Uh.” Babs bit her lip as Pumpkin rampaged through the kitchen. “Maybe they have a pantry somewhere?”
“NO, THEY DON’T! I ALREADY LOOKED FOR IT, AND THEY DON’T!”
“Woah, woah, okay.” Babs got up and went for the nearest cupboard. “No need to get crazy, okay? Look, I’m helping and—huh. Microwaves. Weird. We’re looking for the flour, right? Anyway…” She went to the next cupboard. “So you never really explained why are we baking a cake?”
“Well, I’m a Cake girl.” Pumpkin shrugged. “So just—Celestia’s underpants, the plates just won’t stop, this is so frustrating—so I guess it’s just normal that I end up baking it. I’m, like, the fourth best pony in town at doing so anyway.”
“Heh.” Babs smirked again. “I’m more of a pie girl, if you get what I mean.”
A pause. Pumpkin turned around, frowning. “Pie? What kind of name is Babs Seed Pie? Isn’t that against the law?”
“Uh. No, I’m not talking about my name.” Babs scratched the back of her neck. “I’m like, you know. Pie. Get it? Because…” she gestured to her cutie mark. “Eh?”
Another pause.
“I don’t get it.”
Babs blinked. “Like, I like to eat out?”
“So you don’t bake your own pies?”
“No, I mean—I like to go, uh, clam diving?”
Pumpkin cocked her head to the side. “Clam pies? Is that a thing?”
“No, I mean that I like, you know, chewing carpets. You know, as in…?”
“What the hell are you even talking ab—”
“I LIKE TO HAVE SEXUAL INTERCOURSE WITH MARES!” Babs rolled her eyes and slammed the cupboard door shut. “Suns and stars, girl, did you get it already, or do you need a map?!”
Pumpkin blinked. “You wha—oh, Celestia. You were trying to use innuendo?”
“Okay, you know what? Let’s just forget—”
“No, no, no!” Pumpkin shook her head and glared at Babs like a fat stallion glares at his skinny twin. “We’re not forgetting anything, we’re going to discuss this! What kind of pony would say such a thing?!”
Babs slammed shut another cupboard. No luck there either. “I was just trying to lighten the mood, okay? Excuse me for—”
“The word ‘pie’ is not an an acceptable innuendo for that!”
“It is in Manehattan!”
“Well, then Manehattan is wrong!”
“Is not!”
“Is too!”
BLAM!
The door of the kitchen slammed open to show Dinky at the other side, but neither of the two mares even looked at it. “Hey, girls!” Dinky said entering the kitchen, big smile on her face. “Have you seen the paramedics by any cha—oh hey. What’s going on?”
Both Babs and Pumpkin glared at each other, then looked at Dinky. “Nothing,” Babs said. “We were just discussing semantics. We’re baking a cake, I think.”
“Oh, right. It’s about time.”
“Heya, Babs. Hello Pumpkin.” With a little difficulty, Apple Bloom made her way inside the kitchen. She was carrying a lump on her back, her coat was almost completely red, and she still had dark bags under her eyes. “What you doin’? Cake?”
“Hi, Apple Bloo—woah.” Pumpkin had to do a double-take at Apple Bloom. “Uh. Apple Bloom? Is that jam on you?”
“Nah.”
There was a small pause.
Apple Bloom felt the need to elaborate. “Um, it’s blood.”
Pumpkin nodded. “Uh-huh.”
Another pause. This time, a little longer.
“You know, I’m a little disappointed here, not going to lie,” Pumpkin said. “I was hoping you’d find the food in this place, somehow. I swear to Celestia, I’ve been looking for food in this damned place for hours and I still haven’t—”
“Cuz!” Babs’ eyes got wide as she ran towards Apple Bloom, grabbing her hoof, caressing her mane. “Celestia, are you okay?!”
“Ah, right, yes. Covered in blood. That’s bad. Focus.” Pumpkin shook her head. “Anyway—Apple Bloom, what happened?”
“Ain’t mine.” Apple Bloom pointed at the lump on her back. “Spike was in an accident. We need your help.”
“Oh?” Babs blinked, then looked at Spike. “Woah, he did. What happened?”
“DT hit ‘im with a bottle.”
Pumpkin blinked. “Well. That explains everything. Is it bad? I mean, there’s a lot of blood, but maybe dragons are—”
“No, I don’t think it’s that bad,” Babs said, examining Spike and poking him in strategic places. “I’ve seen worst stuff.”
Apple Bloom’s ears perked up. “You have?”
“Yeah, this kind of thing happens all the time in Manehattan.” She poked Spike a little more strongly. The fella didn’t move.
“Then you can help?”
Babs smiled. “Of course! It’ll be easy. I need bleach, some hydrochloric acid, a hot tub, a hacksaw—”
“Uh. Babs.”
“—two hours, and a little bit of privacy. If the hacksaw is good, I can pull it off in ninety minutes, but it’ll be more expensive.” A pause. A blink. “Wait, no, you’re family. Special price.”
“Babs,” Apple Bloom said. “You, um. He’s not dead.”
“Oh, he’s not?” Babs looked at Spike with mild interest.
There was another pause.
“Why, he isn’t! Anyway, so yes: bleach, some hydrochloric acid, a hot tub—”
“Oooookay!” Apple Bloom took a step back, getting away from Babs, and raised her voice. “So! Can anypony who’s not completely bonkers help?”
Dinky raised a hoof. “I can! I think I know where Diamond Tiara stores the hacksaws!”
“Sadly, Ah specifically asked for somepony who’s not crazy!” Apple Bloom said, in a tone exactly as excited as Dinky’s. “Which means Ah’m mostly talkin’ to Pumpkin here!”
Pumpkin gave Apple Bloom a sympathetic look before turning around to continue her search through the cupboards. “I am so sorry, Apple Bloom, but right now I’m too busy with the cake. You know the rules—every party needs one. Maybe you should get the paramedics? Diamond Tiara probably called them when Snips—”
Apple Bloom sighed. “Ah know, Ah know. That’s what the plan is, actually. DT’s lookin’ for ‘em on the second floor.”
Pumpkin frowned. “DT? You mean Diamond Tiara?”
“Aye.”
“You sure she’s up to challenge?”
“Twist’s with ‘er. Ah’m sure they can handle the situation.”
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!”
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!”
“OH MY GOSH OH MY GOSH OH MY GOSH—!”
“THERE’S SO MUCH BLOOD! IT’S EVERYWHERE!”
“I KNOW!”
“WHY WOULD YOU HIT HIM WITH THE BOTTLE?!”
“I DON’T KNOW!”
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!”
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!”
“Yeah they’re probably all right. Still, Ah gotta look for them paramedics here. Would you help me, Pumpks?”
“Well, maybe if I finish this cake soon, which PROBABLY IS NOT GOING TO BE THE CASE, AS RICH PEOPLE CLEARLY DON’T EAT FOOD, JUDGING BY THIS STUPID KITCHEN!” Pumpkin slammed the next cupboard shut so hard she chipped the wood. “I HATE THIS PLACE!”
“Uh.” Dinky poked Pumpkin on the shoulder. “What are you doing, exactly? Looking for food?”
“AND FAILING! I CAN’T FIND FOOD IN A KITCHEN! I’M A DISGRACE TO ALL BAKERS IN—”
“Maybe they have a pantry?”
“NO, THEY DON’T! AND I HAVE LOOKED EVERYWHERE! THERE ARE NO CUPBOARDS LEFT, AND I SWEAR TO CELESTIA THERE’S NO—”
“Cupboards?” Dinky frowned. “Why are you looking in the cupboards? The food’s gonna be in the fridge.”
There was, again, a small pause.
Everypony looked at Pumpkin.
Pumpkin looked back.
“Um.” She closed her mouth, then opened it, then closed it again. “Okay,” she eventually said. “That is—that makes absolutely no sense.”
“So you haven’t looked in there.”
“Well, no,” Pumpkin said, walking towards the fridge and opening it, “because I’m looking for the flour and everypony knows that you don’t store the flour in—ARE YOU KIDDING ME.”
“There.” Dinky crossed her forelegs, sat on the ground, and turned towards Apple Bloom. “Another mystery solved. Am I useful or what?”
“WHO THE HELL STORES THE FLOUR INSIDE THE FRIDGE.”
“You’re a gift to ponykind,” Apple Bloom said, rolling her eyes. “But we should get goin’, Pumpkin is busy and—”
“Get going to bed? Perhaps?” Diny flashed her brightest smile at Apple Bloom. “Babs can take care of Spike! Right, Babs?”
“Yeah, you look like you need some rest, cuz,” Babs said, standing by Dinky’s side. “You don’t look good.”
“WHY WOULD ANYONE WANT THEIR FLOUR TO BE COLD. THAT IS NOT HOW FLOUR WORKS.”
“It’s nothin’.” Apple Bloom tried to give Babs a reassuring smile, and somehow she managed to make the dark circles around her eyes stand out even more. “Ah had a lil’ flashback, that’s all.”
“Little flashback? Do you think I’m an idiot? Have you looked at yourself?” Babs’ frown got even deeper. “You have bags under your eyes, you’re pale, your tail’s all down… You look… You look…”
“Sexy?” Dinky said, leaning on Babs.
“OH MY CELESTIA THE SUGAR IS ALSO INSIDE THE FRIDGE. THE SUGAR IS INSIDE THE FRIDGE TOO.”
“Oh, suns and stars, sexy doesn’t even start to describe it.” Babs’ face lit up like a tree on a politically correct holiday as she looked to Dinky. “You seen the look in her eyes? She’s dead inside!”
Apple Bloom squinted. “Are…? Are you seriously doin’ this? Now?”
“And the way she’s crouched?” Babs continued. “Like she’s carrying the sins of her past?”
Dinky nodded. “I know! Makes me want to smooch her! What about the pout?”
“It’s the best pout I’ve ever seen,” Babs said. “Like, she’s just asking for some good invigorating sex with a psycho.”
“Oh my gosh!” Dinky beamed. “She said the exact same thing! You are so cousins!”
“Okay. So you’re doin’ this.” Apple Bloom sighed. “You’re bondin’. Ain’t that just heartwarmin’. Now, if you excuse me, Ah gotta go and save Spike. Pumpkin?”
“WHAT.”
Apple Bloom arched an eyebrow. “You done?”
“NO. I GOTTA—ugh.” Pumpkin grimaced. “My throat hurts. Anyway—I gotta bake this cake, or else we’re going to end up having a cakeless party, and the Constitution is clear in that regard. I wish I could help you, but—wait a second!”
“Oh?” Apple Bloom looked at Pumpkin, hope in her eyes. She knew that tone. “You had an idea?”
“Yeah!” Pumpkin got all the stuff she needed from the fridge—flour, sugar, eggs, butter, whipped cream, chocolate, baking soda—and put it on the table, then grinned at Apple Bloom. “I can’t help you, but I know exactly who can! She’s the best mare for this job!”
“Pumpkin, that’s amazing! Who—”
“But,” Pumpkin said, her tone suddenly going cold. She then pointed at Babs, pout on her face. “You shut up.”
Babs blinked. “I what?”
“Shut up. Don’t open that mouth of yours, or I’ll get mad.”
“What the—I didn’t say a thing!”
“And it better stay that way!”
“Uh.” Apple Bloom looked at Dinky. “Any idea what’s goin’ on?”
“Nope.”
“Anyway!” Pumpkin slammed the table with both her fore hooves, then pushed all the ingredients she’d just gathered away. “Now that that’s out of the way, we can move on to the real thing! I hereby declare that this party is going to be cakeless!”
A collective gasp followed that statement. And then…
“Oh, no! Pumpkin, you can’t do that!”
And then it happened.
Babs had seen things in her life that would have crippled lesser ponies, and they had barely scratched her. To say she had nerves of steel would be a lie, because steel could be bent. Babs’ spunk was so resilient that scientist had eventually given up on trying to come up with a fitting comparison, and now there was a new element on the periodic table named Babselium.
But even when somepony is hard-boiled like that, there’s really only one way to react to a pony appearing out of absolutely nowhere right in front of you: jump ten feet in the air and scream something like “aaaaaaaaaah.”
“AIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEH!”
Then again, Babs had always been a rebel. Dinky was more by-the-books.
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!”
There we go.
And finally, Apple Bloom added a calm “Hello, Pinkie.”
And Pinkie, who somehow had got herself in the kitchen—although everypony had the feeling she’d always been there, since the beginning of the party—grinned and waved at her.
“Oh, hey girls! You were here? I’ve been looking for you like cr—WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON.”
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!”
“SWEETIE BELLE YOU GOTTA HELP US!”
“Woah. This is a lot of blood.”
“SILVER SPOON YOU PROBABLY SHOULD HELP US TOO!”
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!”
“WHY IS SNIPS BLEEDING SO MUCH.”
“I DON’T KNOW, DIAMOND TIARA HIT HIM WITH THE BOTTLE!”
“WHY WOULD SHE HIT HIM WITH THE BOTTLE.”
“LOOK, HE’S UNCONSCIOUS, WE GUESSED HE WOULDN’T REALLY MIND!”
“THAT EXPLAINS ABSOLUTELY NOTHING.”
“She’s got a point there.”
“SILVER SPOON THAT IS NOT HELPING I SPECIFICALLY ASKED YOU TO HELP!”
“Hahah. Yeah, you did. Loser.”
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!”
“OKAY, CAN SOMEPONY PLEASE SHUT DIAMOND TIARA UP.”
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!”
“TWIST I THINK THAT’S THE LEAST OF OUR PROBLEMS RIGHT NOW WE NEED TO HELP SNIPS OR ELSE HE’S GOING TO—”
TONK.
Silence.
TONK, TONK, TON—
“SILVER SPOON ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!”
“What.”
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!”
“OH MY GOSH THERE’S EVEN MORE BLOOD NOW.”
TONK.
“SILVER SPOON STOP HITTING SNIPS WITH THE FREAKING BOTTLE RIGHT NOW OR SO HELP ME I SWEAR TO CELESTIA I’M GOING TO KICK YOUR ASS SO HARD YOU WILL GET PREGNANT.”
“Woah, woah! No need to go crazy! See? I stopped, I stopped, so we can just—”
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!”
“SERIOUSLY, THERE’S WAY TOO MUCH BLOOD HERE!”
“WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU EVEN TRYING TO ACCOMPLISH, SILVER SPOON?”
“Well, he’s already unconscious, so I just assumed that—hey! Diamond Tiara, give me that back!”
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!”
TONK.
Silence.
TONK, TONK, TON—
“THE BLOOD ISN’T STOPPING!”
“OKAY THAT’S IT! I’M GETTING DIAMOND TIARA PREGNANT! THERE’S NO GOING BACK NOW!”
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!”
“Pinkie!” Pumpkin Cake let a smile as bright as the sun on go to her face and tackled the older mare in a tight hug. “I knew you would come!”
“WHO THE HELL IS THIS MARE.”
“Of course I came, silly!” Pinkie let out a giggle and ruffled Pumpkin’s mane. “I can’t just let there be a party without a cake, now can I?”
“Aww, the cake thing was a lie to make you come here! No way I would let a party this size be without at least one major pastry. That would be crazy.”
“WHERE DID SHE COME FROM.”
“Hah!” Pinkie blinked at the news. “Well, look who’s all grown up, fooling her own babysitter! Taught you well, didn’t I?”
Pumpkin stuck her tongue out at Pinkie. “But I’m serious now—we have a real problem here, and I can’t help Apple Bloom. I have to bake the cake, after all.”
“Makes all the sense in the world.”
“WHY ARE YOU ALL IGNORING ME.”
“That,” Apple Bloom said, putting a hoof on Babs’ shoulder, her face that of a soldier knocking on the to-be-announced-widow of war, “is your cousin.”
“WHAT KIND OF—wait what?” Babs looked at Apple Bloom, eyes wide. “Cousin? She’s an Apple?”
“Why, yes I am!” Pinkie said, letting Pumpkin go and turning towards Babs and the others. “You’re Babs Seed, right? I’ve heard a lot of stories about you! And of course, hello to you too, Dinky.”
“I’ll never get used to you doing that, Pinkie.” Dinky shivered as she took Pinkie’s hoof. “Never.”
“Aw, they all said that. Just wait till you’re thirty. Anyway!” Pinkie patted Babs’ back. “Glad to finally meet you, cuz! The name’s Pinkie Pie!”
“Uh, okay. Charmed, I gue—wait.” Babs blinked. “What? Your name is—?”
“Oh, no. Oh, no no no no you are not doing this.” Pumpkin jumped in front of Babs and pointed at her mouth. “Don’t.”
“Your name,” Babs said, pushing Pumpkin aside—without even bothering to look at her—and glaring at Pinkie, “is Pinkie Pie. Like, literally Pinkie Pie.”
“Shut up!”
“Uh.” Apple Bloom looked at Pumpkin—livid—then at Babs—ecstatic—then at Pinkie—Pinkie—before settling down on Dinky. “What is goin’ on?”
“You’ve got as much an idea as me, sister,” was the reply.
“Your parents just looked at you, and then they said ‘yeah, let’s name her Pinkie Pie, that’d be an educational name!”
“SHUT UP!”
“Like, damn lady. I thought I was being unsubtle?” Babs pointed at her cutie mark. “But you just flaunt it like that with your own nam—”
“SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP I’M GOING TO THROW A CHAIR AT YOUR FACE IF YOU DON’T SHUT UP!”
“Hahah.” Pinkie Pie’s smile didn’t falter an inch. “I don’t understand a word you’re saying.”
“Pinkie Pie.” Apple Bloom took a step towards the mare, face as happy as a clown in an anti-pedophile gathering. “Ah think we have worst things to deal with right now. Y’see—”
“Like, is that name even legal? I thought obscenities were forbidden in—OH CELESTIA, MY FACE!”
“I WARNED YOU, SUCKER!”
“Hey. Is that Spike?” Pinkie’s smile left her face for the first time, and a small frown took its place instead as she walked around Apple Bloom to look at the bloody mess on her back. “This is Spike! What happened?”
“Well, that’s what Ah wanted to talk ‘bout,” Apple Bloom said. “Diamond Tiara called the paramedics, we know they’re here, but we can’t find ‘em. Spike had an accident, and—”
“Oh, you don’t need any paramedics, silly!” Pinkie said. “I can help you just fine!”
Apple Bloom blinked twice, then looked at Pinkie, hope in her eyes. “You can?”
“OKAY, NOPONY MESSES WITH BABS SEED! YOU’RE GETTING IT NOW, KID!”
“YEAH I’D LIKE TO SEE YOU TR—HOLY FEATHERS BE CAREFUL THAT’S A—”
CRASH!
“WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU!? THAT WAS A MICROWAVE! YOU CAN’T GO THROWING MICROWAVES AT PONIES!”
“FREAKING WATCH ME!”
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!”
“Of course I can, silly!” Pinkie said, smiling again. “I’ve saved the world like a thousand times, do you think I’ve never seen things like this before?”
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!”
“Oh, I’m so happy to hear that, Pinkie!” Apple Bloom said. “Ah was so worried with—”
“I need bleach, some hydrochloric acid, and a hot tub. I brought my own hacksaw.” She showed it to Apple Bloom. “See? I believe in thinking ahead!”
Silence.
“PUMPKIN CAKE, AH SPECIFICALLY ASKED FOR SOMEPONY SANE!”
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!”
“TAAAAAAAAAAAKEEE THIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIS!”
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!”
“Hey, is it me, or is there a lot of screaming going on downstairs?”
“Eeeeeh. Just your imagination.”
It was so late one could safely call it early, and Rumble and Pound Cake were alone on the balcony.
Rumble had a girlfriend. Of course, this was Ponyville; it was really hard for a young stallion like Rumble not to have a girlfriend, all in all. The standards weren’t exactly high—as long as you could breathe for yourself, chances are you were good to go. And even with that, good ol’ New Monic had got himself quite the lady just a couple weeks ago with his mesmerizing talk about polynomials.
So of course, Rumble had had Lemon Daze as a girlfriend for years. And Ponyville love had to be really strong to endure the constant reminder that hey, buddy, you can get another as soon as you ditch this one. Their love wasn’t the fragile, sappy love of long stares and mushy words murmureded in a crowded cafeteria. It was the pure love of being a prick to each other whenever in public and having insulin on your bedside table for the private moments.
He knew that eventually they would marry, because, well. Lemon Daze was the perfect mare for him. There was no way he would destroy that.
But Sweet Baby Celestia was it tempting to do that right now.
Pound Cake’s attractiveness was—no other way to put it—like a good vein of lead: rich and heavy. What a fitting name he had. Pound was big and strong, with fur light as cream and soft as velvet, and with a mullet that had probably been sculpted personally by the gods. And Rumble was completely heterosexual and in love with his girlfriend but holy damn his swan-like wings looked so soft and comfortable and—
And Lemon Daze was a MAGNIFICENT girlfriend, not just magnificent but MAGNIFICENT, and Rumble loved her very much so let’s go and not forget that, hahah. Yeah. Just like that. Juuuust liiike thaaat. He was doing really well, he was doing perfectly well.
“So, um, hey.” Pound Cake waved a hoof and pointed at his face. “My eyes are up here, sailor.”
He was doing reasonably well. “Yes,” Rumble said. “Indeed, they are.”
Pound Cake rolled his—beautiful, deep, dark—eyes and turned to the night sky, showing Rumble his astounding profile in the process. “Anyway,” he said, “I wanted to ask you for a little bit of advice, if you don’t mind?”
“Advice?”
“Yeah.”
“Huh.” That was a new one. Rumble rested his elbow on the balustrade and frowned at Pound. The sound of the party came to them muffled, but the door was closed and they were completely alone. “Well, of course I don’t mind—that’s what friends are for, dude. Why me?”
Pound smiled. Rumble’s heart skipped a beat. “Well,” Pound said, “I don’t really know who else I should ask. Pumpkin is a no-go, and it would be awkward to ask Pinkie. This is more of a guy thing, anyway.”
“And the rest of your friends?”
“I need a more, uh, mature outlook.” Pound Cake scratched the back of his neck. He had something similar to a blush on his face. “Uh, you see—there’s this, hm. This… girl.”
A pause.
“A girl,” Rumble said. “You said ‘a girl’.”
“…Uh-huh.”
“There’s a girl.”
“Yes.”
“You’re asking me for advice on a girl.”
“You are making this way more awkward than it needs to be, but yes.”
A slightly longer pause.
“You do realize the only reason why this balcony is empty is because you shagged half the party to unconsciousness, right?” Rumble said, massaging the space between his eyes. “Like, you also realize everypony in this house is also willing to—” Rumble blinked. “Wait a second. Are you in love?”
Pound frowned. “What? No.”
“Oh my gosh.” Rumble’s eyes opened wide. “Oh my gosh, you’re in love. This is—you’re asking me because I have this thing with Lemon Daze, and you’re in love!”
“Rumble.”
“And you’re so in love you feel embarrassed around her and can’t be seductive anymore!” Rumble yelled, pressing a hoof against his chest. “And even if you could, you want to be with her, not just tap her and walk away like you always do!”
“Rumble, shut up.”
“And you want to talk with her and be friends with her and then you wanna get married but for some reason she despises you because she knows you’ve already tapped the entire town, so ironically you need to woo the only mare in Ponyville who doesn’t wanna get wooed by you!”
“Rumble I seriously need you to stop talking.”
“So you want my help and experience with monogamy to fake being a better pony and then you’ll hit it right away but there’ll be a misunderstanding and she will hate you again and that will force you to become that better pony and—”
“Why are you doing this.”
“Oh, and Lemon Daze and me will probably argue because she’ll just happen to be friends with your lover. So we’ll also break up when your lady starts to hate you again, but we’ll get together off-camera at the end.”
“Uh-huh.”
“And Spike will be the comic relief.”
“Sounds amazing. I’m sure everypony will love it. Can you listen to me now?”
“Hmmm.” Rumble frowned and rubbed his chin. “Yeah. Yeah I think I’m good.”
“Astounding,” Pound Cake said, nodding. His voice only showed the smallest bit of irritation. “Okay, so just to drive the point home—not in love.”
“Yeah that was predictable.”
“I hate you so much.”
“So,” Rumble said, smirking, “not a case of the lovey-doveys? You didn’t get pierced by a heart-shaped arrow?”
“I actually did, but I think you meant it as a metaphor, so no.” Pound shivered. “Love Angel has some weird turn-ons, seriously.” Then he shook his head, his mane dancing in the wind as he did, sparkling under the moonlight, reminding Rumble of just how much he loved Lemon Daze, dammit. “Anyway, yes, I am most definitely not in love. While I really think that you guys are great, all with spouses and stuff, it’s not the life for me.”
“That was also predictable,” Rumble said, forcing himself to look away from Pound. “I mean, I doubt any healthy pony in your position would, you know. Give up that.”
“Plus, I would disappoint so many ponies,” Pound agreed. “Almost none of them want to go solo with me—the whole ‘sharing’ business is what sells it, I think. Gives it an extra spice.”
“Spice. Yes. Fairly sure that by everypony’s standards, that’s the most vanilla stuff you can—ah?” Rumble’s ears perked up and he looked down the balustrade. “Hey, I think I heard somepony screaming down there.”
“Right?” Pound shifted closer and looked down the balustrade too. Now that they were so close, Rumble noticed he smelt like vanilla and sweat, which was a combination that shouldn’t work. But yet, it Lemon Daze Lemon Daze Lemon Daze Lemon Daze okay we’re good to go. “Told you, dude. There’s something going on down there.”
“Then again, this is a Diamond Tiara party,” Rumble said. “Screaming is to be expected, especially if you’re here, Pound.”
Pound tched and looked at him. “Yes, but right now I’m here, and that’s not sexy screaming. I can tell when it’s sexy screaming.” He frowned. “That’s screamy screaming. And not fun screamy screaming. Article seventeen of the Constitution says that has no place in a party, unless…”
“I take it you want to take a look?” Rumble asked, getting away from the balustrade and opening the door of the balcony. “Or is the conversation meant to be private?”
“Private, but that doesn’t matter. The bigger a party, the more privacy,” Pound said, taking the door and going out. As he walked past Rumble, he readjusted his wings absent-mindedly, which made his back muscles stretch and LEMON DAZE LEMON DAZE LEMON DAZE. “Pumpkin’s downstairs.”
“Hahahah.” Rumble pointed. “Sister boy.”
“She’s my twin, and she wouldn’t allow not fun screamy screaming in a party under normal circumstances,” Pound said, not bothering to turn around as he opened the door to the corridor. “So yes, hahahah, shut up and listen.”
“Aye aye, captain.”
Pound Cake had been predictably right on his assurance about big parties and privacy, Rumble noticed soon enough—the guy had, after all, been raised by Pinkie Pie as well as his parents. He was an expert on parties and fun, which actually explained a lot about his success with the mares, and made one wonder just how well that would translate to—LEMON DAZE LEMON DAZE LEMON DAZE AHAHAHAHAH.
So as they navigated through the seemingly endless set of doors, corridors, rooms, and interior gardens, they found themselves more or less alone in the crowd. There was way too much stuff going on for anypony to notice what they were talking about.
Of course, around forty percent of the ponies they walked by dropped everything they were doing to stop and stare at Pound Cake with a dreamy expression, unaware of anything but the swinging of Pound’s buttocks, so maybe that seed of wisdom about privacy wasn’t as universal as it sounded.
“It’s just,” Pound Cake was saying as they went by, “that girl is, uh, special. Yes, I think that’s a good way to put it.”
“Makes you sound like you’re in love.”
“It’s not a good way to put it. Well, she is, uh.” Pound Cake frowned and tapped his chest. “We have this… connection, you know?”
“Yeah you still sound like you’re in love.”
“Oh, for the love of—I don’t want to be with this girl.” Pound paused and wiggled his eyebrows at Rumble. “But I do want to be with this girl. Get me?”
Rumble looked at Pound’s eyebrows. Then at Pound’s pectorals. Then at Pound’s diamond-like hooves. Lemon Daze. “Got you,” he said.
“But I don’t really think I can… Well.” Pound coughed, embarrassed. Rumble could tell he was because he suddenly went from handsome to adorable, in a change that was as quick and uncanny as it was attractive. “I can’t really… Do… what I always do.”
“What you always do?” Rumble asked, frowning. “What do you mean?”
“That I can’t, uh, do my usual stuff to get her to like me.”
A pause. “You can’t exist?”
“Oh, shut up.”
“No, no, I’m being serious.” Rumble got close to Pound and passed a foreleg over his shoulders. The gesture was absolutely platonic because that was what friends did, they kinda hugged each other and maybe perhaps sniffed each other’s mane. Lemon Daze. He stopped sniffing the mane. “This is not me goofing around.”
“Funny you’d say that,” Pound said. “My mane smells like vanilla, too?”
“More like chocolate, actually.”
“Yeah I get that a lot.”
“Anyway.” Rumble got serious, or at least put on a serious face, which was more or less the same. “I’m telling you the best advice you’ll ever get when it comes to this stuff—you wanna woo that girl? Be yourself.”
Pound Cake rolled his eyes. “Oh, come on. Of all the cliché, banal stuff you could say…”
“It’s true!” Rumble got away from Pound with a slap on the back. “Look, fella—you wanna get with this special girl, you need to show yourself as you are. Anything else would be trying to fool her, and that’s bad.”
Pound frowned at him. “I was looking for tips like ‘don’t mention how ugly her haircut is’ or the like, Rumble.”
“Ah. Okay. Don’t mention that, then.” Rumble shrugged. “What do you want me to say? You’re an interesting individual, Pound Cake, and if I remember correctly your ass is seen as the—”
“Third Best Derriere in the History of Equestria, yes,” Pound said, fighting to get the smile off his face. “Princess Celestia gave me the trophy in person.”
“See? You can talk about that,” Rumble said. “Or just turn around and do some squats—either way, you’ve got it, dude.”
Pound Cake didn’t look convinced. He just looked gorgeous. He passed a hoof through his mane and cracked his neck, looking everywhere but at Rumble’s face. “I… You know, I really don’t want to say who’s the girl, but…”
“Yeah, I noticed. I don’t really get why, though? I mean, every mare would fall for you immediat—”
“It’s Babs.”
Rumble stopped.
Pound Cake continued walking for a couple meters till he realized he was alone and turned around. He was biting his lip in a non-sexy way. He still pulled it off as sexy, but the gesture was obviously meant to show worry. “See what I meant?”
“Yeah, uh. Babs.” Rumble scratched the back of his neck. “That’s… She’s got scissors as her cutie mark, dude.”
“I know.”
“I mean, I don’t think you’re exactly her—”
“I know!” Pound stomped on the floor. “But it’s the first time I find a pony who’s also, you know. Her destiny is like mine!”
“To have sex with mares?”
“Yes!”
“Well.” Rumble frowned. “You’ve got a point there.”
“So it’s like, I feel like I have to…”
“Go with her?” Rumble asked, tilting his head to the side. “Pursue the connection you have? Try to develop a relationship that’s deeper than anything else you’ve ever—”
“…like, assert my dominance.” Pound squinted. “This is my territory. I’m the sex pony here.”
Silence.
Rumble shrugged. “Eh. Same thing. Well, I don’t know, you’ll have to work your way around it. Wear a wig or someth—”
They were really close to the stairs, now—they could actually see them from there. And the scream had doubtlessly come from down there, and it had been Pumpkin Cake’s.
There was no time to think, or so Pound Cake guessed. He stretched his wings to the max—seven ponies fainted, and one mare had to run to the bathroom, where she met the Sweetie Shuffle guy and a beautiful love story unfolded—lowered his hind legs and shot a glance to Rumble. “Hop on!”
Rumble stared.
He stared really hard.
“PLATONICALLY!”
“YES I KNOW THAT!” Rumble said. And then—LEMON DAZE HEY-YO LEMON DAZE DAZE THOSE LEMONS—he took a deep breath and jumped on Pound Cake’s back. “I AM SO GONNA MARRY THAT MARE ONCE THIS IS OVER!”
Pound Cake greeted that with a cheer, then gave a strong thrust of his wings, and they soared towards the stairs and down them at the speed of sound, roaring like thunder.
Seemingly, both stallions had forgotten that Rumble was also a pegasus.
Coincidences are overrated.
It’s really hard to notice for mortals, because a lifetime is not that long when you look at it with some perspective, but it’s undeniable. There’s a reason for it, of course—statistically speaking, coincidences, by the mere definition of the world, should be rare.
However, they really aren’t. Because Mass and Energy are really important when it comes to the way the world works, but they pale in comparison to Importance.
Importance attracts Importance. When something Important happens, other Important stuff starts to pop out around, and the overall Importance of the moment increases exponentially. Reality has no other option than bend itself around it to make sure it doesn’t break.
So you end up with some uncannily unlikely things happening all the time. The kid whose parents got killed just happened to be the one with magical powers and a mind fragile enough to carry that trauma forever. You discovered you have a parasite eating up your brain just as you were walking towards the altar. You cut the wrong wire exactly as your wife was saying ‘gee, I sure like how I’m not exploding right now!” And so on.
Thus, they should have seen it coming. Seriously, they should.
But they didn’t.
So Sweetie Belle, Twist, Silver Spoon, and Diamond Tiara had managed to take care of Snips. Without getting anypony pregnant, even, which was quite the miracle. All they’d needed was a wet towel, some pressure, and a lot of imagination to stop the bleeding and incidentally make Snips look like a mummy. A rather sexy mummy, all in all, because Diamond Tiara had outright refused to take the sexy lingerie off first. Snips had proclaimed himself a ‘pretty princess’ so he was going to be a ‘pretty princess’, and that was final.
They were still arguing the moral ramifications of letting their friend—they didn’t like the sound of the word ‘victim’—look like a modern pop star in public when Babs Seed and Pumpkin appeared.
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!”
“OH NO, KIDDO, YOU’RE NOT RUNNING AWAY FROM ME!”
“HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEELP!”
“What?” Sweetie Belle turned around. “What is going—BABS WHAT ARE YOU DOING WITH THAT MICROWA—”
CRASH!
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!”
Now, there are exactly thirteen ways to react to a crazy mare throwing microwave ovens at you. Sadly, nopony had access to baseball bats or popcorn, so the first three options were out from the start.
That left them with ten ways to go. Which option each pony chose said a lot about their personalities.
For example, Babs Seed went for Number Seven: Keep Throwing Those F’king Microwaves. The way she saw the world, there were three kinds of ponies: the ones who threw the microwaves, the ones at whom the microwaves were thrown, and the ones she wanted to sleep with.
Sweetie Belle went for Number Four: Question Everything.
“BABS SEED WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU—” TONK. “AAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH!”
Which immediately lead to Number Ten: Get Hit By the F’king Microwave Right In The F’king Face. Never the right option, all in all, as she made sure to correctly communicate to the others.
“OH SWEET BABY CELESTIA, MY FACE HURTS SO F’KING MUCH.”
At the same time, Diamond Tiara opted for the often-acclaimed Number Eleven: Run Away and Leave Your Friends Behind. Diamond Tiara saw courage and bravery the same way she saw adult-sized diapers: she knew they existed but refused to have anything to do with them unless they were a sexual proposition.
“SOOOO LOOOOONG SUUUUUCKEEEEEEEEERS!”
“HEY! DON’T RUN AWAY! I’M NOT DONE COMPLAINING ABOUT MY FACE!”
Babs Seed, still angry at Pumpkin and still in possession of a couple microwaves, kept going with Number Seven. Those F’king Microwaves were flying like pants in an orgy.
Pumpkin Cake, however, had been running away from Babs for quite a while now, so she reacted properly. Instead of going Number Eleven like Diamond Tiara, she took the smart route and went Number Twelve: Duck so Hard You Might as Well Grow Wings and a Corkscrew-shaped Dingadonger. Which was so effective the microwave flew right above her head.
Of course, Diamond Tiara just happened to be in front of Pumpkin when that happened, and thus she followed Sweetie Belle’s example and went Number Ten.
TONK.
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!”
“TOLD YOU NOT TO RUN AWAY!”
“OH MY CELESTIA, SHE HIT MY F’KING FACE!”
“PREACHING TO THE CHOIR THERE, DIAMOND TIARA!”
“HOW THE HELL DID SHE MANAGE TO HIT MY F’KING FACE IF I WAS RUNNING AWAY?!”
Silver Spoon, meanwhile, found out that if character is what you have in the dark, then affection is what tells you how to act when there’s a f’king microwave flying in your direction. Surprising everypony—including, and especially, herself—she opted for Number Five: Protect Your Loved Ones.
But Diamond Tiara was already out, so she protected Twist with her body. She was the closest thing Silver Spoon could think of, anyway.
Twist noticed. “…Silver Spoon? What the hell are you even—”
“You’re too much of a loser to take cover anyway!”
Then there was Apple Bloom. And to understand what she did and why she did it, a small explanation is in order.
Apple Bloom was, all in all, an Apple. Apples were many things—traditional, fierce, deep-rooted, strong—but they were not stupid. And when they were facing danger, they had the greatest dingadonger in the land.
So Apple Bloom stumbled on the scene a couple seconds later and saw, in order: Pumpkin Cake ducking on the floor, Sweetie Belle on the ground yelling, a mummy with loose morals, Silver Spoon wondering what the hell was she doing covering Twist with her body, and Twist wondering if love could, after all, be a real thing.
Then, Babs Seed throwing microwaves.
And lastly, Diamond Tiara, on the ground, grabbing her face and screaming in pain.
Family was important for an Apple. You always sided with your family when you were an Apple, and Babs Seed was family. But there were three kinds of ponies in the world: the ones who threw the microwaves, the ones at whom the microwaves were thrown, and the ones you wanted to sleep with.
Babs Seed was of her kin, but no matter how thick blood was, she had messed with the wrong kind.
So Apple Bloom yelled with the fury of a dog defending his pups and also the hot bitch that kind of lifts her tail every time he’s near and, like, they’re not together but heat season is coming if you know what I mean, woof woof growl growl wink wink.
And then she went Number Thirteen: Attack.
Now, here is where things got complicated.
Ponies, for reasons lost to history, tend to mostly use desserts as weapons. Sometimes they also use their spouses, but that’s about it. And Apples are pretty used to carrying apples around, because, well, you gotta do something with that name of yours. So for generations it had been hardwired into their heads that in case of danger you just need to throw those apples into the air and shoot them with a mighty kick.
All fine and dandy, except for two reasons:
First reason: Apple Bloom had inherited a lot of traits from Applejack, but her sister’s legendary aim was not one of them.
Second reason: Apple Bloom wasn’t carrying apples.
Now, Twist and Silver Spoon were having a moment. Kind of. It was hard to have a moment when there’s a psychopath throwing microwaves around, but they managed.
Then Apple Bloom tried to save the day, and oh boy, turns out a flying unconscious bloody baby dragon is a great way to ruin a romance before it’s even started.
Especially because Silver Spoon could see it coming, and after some quick mental calculations she discovered that, while a microwave was too dangerous for Twist, a projectiled Spike was right under the “Too Hurtful For Twist” line, but still above the “Too Hurtful For Silver Spoon” line.
So she went from Number Five to Number Six: Grab the Loved One and Use It as a Shield.
SPLORCH.
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH! YOU MOTHERF—”
“OH MY GOSH!” Pumpkin managed to dodge another microwave, but then tripped over Sweetie Belle—“MY FACE! AGAIN! WHY WOULD YOU TRIP ON MY FACE?!”—and fell to the ground. As she saw Babs Seed looming over her, microwave in hand, she could do nothing but go Number Nine, and screamed. “SOMEPONY HELP ME!”
Babs stood unfazed, and she raised her last microwave above her head. There was a crazy glint in her eye. She was right next to Pumpkin. There was no way she was missing this time.
“TAAAAAAAKEEEEE—”
In came Rumble and Pound Cake. Number Eight: Fly to the Rescue.
They miscalculated.
CRASH!
All in all, however, both stallions would later admit that there are worse things to crash into than Snips, but Snips would disagree. In his opinion, Snips is the worst thing to crash into, because he has a tendency to end up flying across the room when one does that.
The blood-soaked towels floated almost majestically behind him as he soared through the air.
Twist, enraged at how she had unconscious baby dragon all over her, turned around to face Silver Spoon. As she was too angry to talk, she tried to hit her with the closest thing to hoof she had—said unconscious baby dragon. Silver Spoon dodged.
And Twist ended up batting Snips with Spike, changing his trajectory rather drastically, and sending him soaring through the air once more.
Importance attracts Importance.
“—THIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIS!”
Statistics and Logic can go shag a nail for all Importance cares. Coincidences are common in Equestria, and things tend to be in the right place at the right time, all the time. Reality has no other option than bend itself around it to make sure the universe doesn’t break.
Babs threw the last microwave.
Snips soared through the air.
They crashed into each other.
And in the distance, a young child with a great destiny yet to unfurl opened his eyes and muttered two words:
“Number Ten.”
Fourth Chapter: Okay No Seriously We Really Need Help Here
They stood there, in silence, for at least ten minutes. They could do nothing but stare. Rumble was also squinting a little, trying to understand what he was looking at.
“Well,” he finally said, looking at the rest. “The sexy mummy got squashed by the microwave. Now that’s a sentence for the ages.”
“We gotta look for the paramedics, don’t we?” Pumpkin said, poking Snips on the head. “Like, for Snips too, I mean.”
“Yeah,” Diamond Tiara said. “He could wait till tomorrow before, but I guess microwaves are serious business.”
“Um.” Babs Seed looked to the side and coughed. Her cheeks were noticeably pinker than usual. “If it is of any consolation, I’m really sorry for what I did.”
“The worst part is where he got hurt,” Rumble continued, as if he hadn’t heard the rest talk. “I mean, ouch. Right on the dingadonger.”
Pound Cake frowned as he looked at Babs. “Where did you get all those microwaves, anyway?” he asked. “I mean—”
“Diamond Tiara’s kitchen is well-equipped and I can carry a lot of weight.” She shrugged. “Wasn’t really thinking.”
Pumpkin’s eyes were almost completely white, the way her pupils shrunk. “Yes, we could tell!” she yelled, looking at Babs. “You were trying to kill me! Are all Manehattanites that stupid, or are you the wonder child of the city?!”
“Oh, I’m not letting that one pass, you—!”
“BABS!” Apple Bloom said, pressing a hoof against her cousin’s chest. “Don’t you think you’ve done enough already?!”
Babs Seed bit her lip and stopped, looking down. However, the moment Apple Bloom let her go, she pointed at her own eyes, then at Pumpkin Cake, and sealed it with a killer glare.
Pumpkin didn’t say anything, but she clearly mouthed the words “Whenever you want.”
“You think Snips will come out of this?” Sweetie Belle asked, frowning at the mess that had been her friend. Spike was there, too, but he didn’t look half as bad. “I mean…”
“Well, he’s used to this kind of stuff,” Pound said. After he talked, the whole group went silent for a couple seconds, mesmerized by the way his lips looked even softer when they moved. “I mean, he does it every time, right?”
“The microwave was a bit of a wild card, though,” Diamond Tiara said.
“Eh, he’ll get over it.”
“And talking about getting over things.” Sweetie Belle looked at Pound. Then looked some more. Then some more. Then Pumpkin elbowed her, and she shook her head. “Yes! I’m—yes, uh, Pound? If you don’t mind my asking, we saw Snips waiting by your door before.”
Pound nodded. “Yeah.”
“And then he came out of your room.”
“Uh-huh.”
“So…” Sweetie Belle waved a hoof in the air. “Did you, like…? Go and…?”
“Power-bottomed him.” Pound Cake nodded. His face was completely serious. “Yes.”
“Oh.” Sweetie blinked, then fanned herself a little. “Oh—w-wow. Oh my goodness.”
Pound gave her half a smile. “Yeah.”
“Wait.” Apple Bloom looked at him. Then looked some more. Then Pumpkin cleared her throat. “Gah!” She slapped herself. “Ah mean… power bottom? I see you more like a power-top?”
“Well, yes,” Pound said. “Both.”
“Oh my goodness.”
“I mean, recently I mostly power through everything, to be honest.”
“Ah!” Diamond Tiara grinned and raised a hoof. “I can attest to that!”
“Wait, what?!” Apple Bloom’s eyes went wide, then from Diamond Tiara to Pound—stare, stare, Pumpkin throwing one of her bows at her face, back to reality—to Diamond Tiara again. “Recently?!”
“OH MY DEAR GOODNESS.”
“Uh.” Diamond Tiara blinked. The grin went out her face and she lowered the hoof fast as lightning. “No.”
“Hey.” Rumble pointed at Sweetie Belle. “I think she needs to sit down or something.”
“SURE IS HOT IN HERE!”
“Sweetie Belle.” Apple Bloom glared. She really made sure to keep her eyes steady and not to look at DT. “Get a grip.”
Diamond Tiara bit her lip and looked at Apple Bloom. “Hey, I just—”
Apple Bloom flicked her mane, just enough to hide her face from Diamond Tiara. The latter took a step back and lowered her head.
Silence filled the group. Pound looked from one mare to another, not sure what to do. Pumpkin just put a hoof on his shoulder and shook her head in silence.
Babs was the one who broke the quietness first. “Um, cuz, maybe you should—”
“Not your business, Babs,” Apple Bloom shot back, making Babs flinch.
“Yeah, stay out of this,” Pumpkin whispered. “City girl.”
“OH, THAT’S IT! YOU AIN’T CALLING ME—”
“BABS!”
“But…!” Babs looked at Apple Bloom, ears flat against her head, mouth down in a frown. “But she called me a city girl!”
“And you’re from Manehattan!”
“Yes, but she meant it!”
“Okay, Ah see you’re still bein’ an idiot.” Apple Bloom shook her head and grabbed Babs’ tail with her mouth, earning a yelp from her. “Hmm gtng ympf mmpf pf mpfrfrf!”
Babs yelped again when Apple Bloom gave another pull. “Hey! What the hell are you doing?!”
“Mpff gtng mpfff mpf-pfff!”
“Yes, that was completely understandable.”
“Mpff—ptoo—Ah’m gettin’ you outta here,” Apple Bloom said. “Not riskin’ it. We’re goin’ upstairs, and you—” she looked at Pumpkin Cake, “are stayin’ here. Sweetie Belle, you stay with ‘er, and please, try not to make another mess.”
Babs frowned. “Well, I guess that I can relax a little if I’m away from—”
“Not relax. Nopony’s relaxin’ here.” Apple Bloom looked at the whole crowd, daring them to speak against her. Nopony did. “We’re lookin’ for the paramedics, and stayin’ away from Snips and Spike, ‘cause it’s safer that way. Good?”
A bunch of mutters and growls, made up of different varieties of “yes” and “I guess.”
“Good, then. Upstairs with ya, Babs.”
“I’ll go with you!” Diamond Tiara said, perhaps a little too enthusiastically, taking again a step towards Apple Bloom. There was a chof as she stepped on Snips’ stomach. “Oh. Heheh. Ooops.” She shrugged, giving them all the most innocent of smiles, and took a step to the side. “Sorry, I wasn’t look—” Chof.
Silence.
Diamond Tiara blinked. “Well, that was definitely not planned. Let me just—” Chof. “Nnnot that way. Maybe if—” Chof.
“Aaaaand right in the dingadonger.”
“Shut up, Rumble! I’m trying to—” Chof. “Okay, in my defense, this is way harder than it looks!”
“Celestia’s sake—you know what? Just, just stay there,” Apple Bloom said, not as much talking as spitting the words. “Ah’ll go with—”
“No, no! Let me—” Choffle.
“Aaaaand right in the second dingadonger.”
“STAY THERE!” Apple Bloom yelled. Diamond Tiara flinched, and AB noticed she’d raised a hoof. But then she stopped, took a deep breath, and lowered her voice. “Ahem,” she said, rubbing the space between her eyes. “Just try to stop helpin’, DT. Please.”
“But—!”
“You stay ‘ere with Sweetie Belle and Dinky,” Apple Bloom said. “Look for the paramedics, okay?” She blinked. “And… wait a moment. Dinky?”
“Uh.” Pumpkin looked around. “She’s not here?”
“Apparently! Where in tarnation is that mare now?”
“…And that’s how you load the Party Cannon!” Pinkie said, closing the tube with the last piece of cardboard. “Now all you gotta do is fill it with mustard, and remember not to breathe the gas! Also, avoid pointing it at pregnant mares or ponies with a faint heart. Unless you want to have fun!”
“Hah!” Dinky shook her tube. It was a big, almost menacing thing with drawings of balloons and streamers and sweets all over it. “Really?”
“Hahah. No. They’ll die.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah.”
Silence.
“So, how did you find this out again…?”
“You really don’t want to ask that question.”
“Eh. She’s probably doing something harmless that won’t have any consequences whatsoever later on,” Rumble said, shrugging. “Let her be. You know how she is.”
“Yeah.” Apple Bloom sighed. “Anyway, Sweetie Belle, you go with Diamond Tiara—“
Chof. “Sorry! I’m really sorry!”
“—and, Ah don’t know. Try not to kill anypony.” Apple Bloom glared at DT. “Make sure she doesn’t get near any sharp objects.”
Sweetie Belle saluted. “On it!”
“Pound Cake, you’re probably the strongest one.” Apple Bloom made sure not to stare at Pound as she talked this time. It was hard—she was really digging the diamond hooves. “You come with me, and help me take care of Babs if she loses her mind.”
“Careful, Pound,” Pumpkin said, hoof-bumping her brother and pointing at Babs Seed with a nod. “She’s crazy. You don’t wanna talk about Pinkie.”
Pound frowned. “I don’t?”
Pumpkin gritted her teeth. “No.”
“Wait, wait, wait.” Diamond Tiara managed to point at Pound. “You’re going with him?!”
“DT, we’ve got no time for this.” Apple Bloom shook her head. “Pumpkin, you go with Silver Spoon and…”
Silence.
It dawned on the entire group that Silver Spoon and Twist hadn’t talked since the microwave-meets-sexy-mummy-who-happens-to-be-Snips incident. They were too busy staring at each other—Silver Spoon had a weird look in her eyes, a mixture of embarrassment and fear and a little bit of lust. Twist’s was easier to read: she was just absolutely pissed. And covered in baby dragon.
“…And, you know what?” Apple Bloom said. “You better go with Sweetie Belle, too. Let’s let them, uh. Sort things out?”
“Yyyyyyeah.” Pumpkin nodded slowly. “I think that’ll be safer.”
“Good. Rumble, you—”
“I’ll look for the paramedics with them, too,” Rumble said. Apple Bloom nodded at him, thankful. Rumble was quicker on the uptake than the rest. “We take downstairs, you take upstairs. Meet back here in twenty minutes.”
“Aye.”
“Eeyup.”
“Good.”
“Okay.” Apple Bloom looked at Silver Spoon and Twist one last time. “So, uh. See ya.”
They all went away faster than one can say “this is gonna be one weird couple fight”.
It didn’t take long for Rumble, Pumpkin, Sweetie Belle, and Diamond Tiara to think of a place to look for the paramedics. Two tall guys dressed in white—they shouldn’t be hard to find. So they went to the dancefloor, which was rather empty at the moment, as the music had stopped long ago to give a rest to the ears of everypony in the party.
“What I’m wondering the most right now, though,” Pumpkin Cake was saying as they looked around—under the table, behind the sofa, in the middle of that group of mares giggling about some raunchy joke—all together like a pack of wolves, “is how exactly one goes from doing this to beating somepony with a bottle.”
Diamond Tiara didn’t answer. She was too busy frowning and looking mildly offended at everypony, raising her knees a little too much while walking and kicking every piece of furniture at hand. The most Pumpkin got was a groan that sounded like “Hmmmmrfpoundcake.”
“I take that as ‘we’re idiots who didn’t think that much about it’, then?”
“My best guess,” Rumble said, “is that Diamond Tiara had already beaten someone unconscious with that bottle, right? So she—excuse me, have you seen the paramedics? No? Okay, never mind then. Sorry, I have a girlfriend.” He smiled and fluttered away from the mare. “I think they’re not in here.”
Sweetie Belle looked behind the television. “Hm. I can’t see them. Let’s go to the hall?”
“Hmmmmmmfrshould’vebeenmeinstead.”
“Sounds good,” Pumpkin said, eyeing the crowd once more. “Anyway, Rumble?”
“Yes?”
“You were saying?”
“What? Ah!” Rumble clapped. “Right, yes.” He flew a couple meters higher, made sure to look around the whole room for the last time, then landed right next to Diamond Tiara and patted her on the head. “She’d already beaten someone unconscious with the bottle, right?”
“Yeah?”
“So she just wanted to give a try at the other meaning of that sentence.”
It took Pumpkin a moment.
Then she punched him in the shoulder. “Nerd,” she said, smiling.
“Well, I’m honestly hoping that’s the reason,” Sweetie Belle said. “Because trust me, what I found out was worse.” She sighed and shook her head as they walked to the hall. It was actually emptier than the dancefloor—and with just one look she could tell there were no paramedics near. “Well, darn. This is going to be hard.”
“Hmmmmmmmmfrdumbgrudgemakesnosense.”
“Aw, cheer up, DT!” Sweetie Belle got right next to Diamond Tiara and put a foreleg over her shoulders, smiling. “I’m sure Apple Bloom will forgive you soon!”
“Yeah.” Pumpkin nodded, trotting alongside the two friends and looking under the table. Three mares playing adult hide-and-seek, but nothing else. “She’s just stressed.”
“Hmmmmmmmmmmfrstupid.”
“Hey, you were the one messing up,” Pumpkin said. “Reap what you sow.”
“Plus, it could be worse!” Rumble said, hovering right on top of Diamond Tiara, looking at the ponies in the hall one by one, just in case the paramedics had taken the uniforms off. “You could be like Silver Spoon.”
“Oh, yeah.” Sweetie Belle nodded, and nudged Diamond Tiara. “At least you’re not them!”
“YOU THREW A BABY DRAGON AT ME!”
“Okay.” Silver Spoon raised her hooves, trying to keep Twist away. It wasn’t nearly as easy as it sounded. “First off, I didn’t. Spike was coming toward us. So, rather, I threw you at a baby dragon, and—”
“I AM SOAKED IN DRAGON JUICES! I AM NEVER GOING TO GET THE SMELL OFF MY COAT!”
“Um. Would it be too much to ask you to take a step back?”
“YES, IT WOULD!”
“You’re stepping on Snips.”
“I AM NOT!”
Chof.
Silence.
“Stars and stones, you’re such a los—”
“SHUT UP!”
“And you’re sure they went in that direction?” Sweetie Belle asked. “Through that door? Thanks! No, I won’t dance again today. Well, I think. Hm. Oh, okay, if you ask that nicely.” She smiled and walked away. “They went there,” she said once she got to Pumpkin and Rumble, pointing at one of the doors that led to the library. “Like half an hour ago.”
“Gosh.” Rumble swept the sweat off his forehead. “The paramedics sure like to party, don’t they?”
“Not a party till the paramedics are here,” Pumpkin said, nodding. Then she looked at Diamond Tiara, who was right now busy kicking a sofa to show the world she was annoyed. “Hey, do you think they might still be in the library?”
“HmmmmmmmmmrfprobablyIdon’tknownorcare.”
“Well, at least she’s speaking about something else,” Pumpkin muttered. “Let’s go?”
Sweetie answered her question by opening the door.
“Guess that’s a yes.”
“The thing that ticks me off the most,” Rumble said, this time walking behind Diamond Tiara, “is that this could have been avoided if at least one pony had showed some judgement back there.”
“Hey, blueboy, you weren’t there!” Pumpkin said, sticking her tongue out. “Plus, Spike was already hurt, so…”
“He was?”
“Yeah! Although I don’t know why.” Pumpkin elbowed Diamond Tiara. “Hey, what happened to Spike?”
“HmmmmmmmrfApplebloomstail.”
Silence.
“You really have only one thing on your mind all the time, don’t you?”
“YOU WERE BEING NICE FOR THE FIRST TIME IN YOUR LIFE, AND I WAS THERE GETTING MY HOPES UP, THINKING THAT FOR ONCE YOU WOULDN’T BE HORRIBLE AND—”
“Hey!” Silver Spoon made a stand there, stomping one hoof on the ground. Clink. “You can hardly blame me for that! I—wait. ‘Clink’?”
Twist looked down. “Huh. It’s Spike you stepped on.”
“Woah, okay, messed up big time there. Let me just—” Chof. “There, much better.”
“Definitely.”
“Anyway! You can hardly blame me for that—I’m always horrible!” Silver Spoon pointed at herself. “That’s who I am! Comes with the package!”
“YES, BUT THERE ARE TIMES AND PLACES TO BE HORRIBLE, SILVER SPOON!”
“Okay, can somepony please stop messing around with the books and answer my questions?!” Pumpkin asked. “No? You sure? Yes, the one who just pulled that out of her—woah wait it was in there? Lady, you’re braver than me. Anyway, you seen the paramedics? The ones with the uniform?”
A pause, as the other mare talked.
“Uh. I’m not sure, let me ask.” Pumpkin turned around. “HEY, SWEETIE BELLE!”
“YES?” replied Sweetie Belle from the other side of the room.
“WOULD YOU SAY THE PARAMEDICS’ UNIFORM IS A SEXY ONE?”
“MOSTLY IT DEPENDS ON WHAT YOU’RE INTO!”
“Okay.” Pumpkin turned to the mare again. “What are you into?”
Another pause.
“Uh-huh. SWEETIE BELLE!”
“WHAT?”
“SHE JUST POINTED AT THE WHOLE ROOM!”
“THEN YES, THE UNIFORM IS SEXY!”
“You know you can just ask another mare, right?” Rumble asked, looking at Pumpkin. “Like, you don’t need to go revealing the secrets of any pony that talks with you.”
“She looks rather willing to share that info with the world,” Pumpkin said.
The mare agreed. Rather enthusiastically, even. Rumble and Pumpkin listened to the surprisingly explicit explanation on how the mare wanted everypony, especially that mare over there, to know what she was into, because that mare over there really looked like she could use some fun, wink wink.
And also by “fun” she meant this and this and especially this. She made a gesture to further prove her point. With this. Why, yes, you might ask where did she get a three-headed whip, but make sure you want to know the answer. Also that guy will join.
The guy looked at them from three meters away. “Wait, you mean me?”
Yes, that guy.
“Awesome! I have a whip too!”
“Okay, you know what? We’re just—we’re just going to leave.” Rumble smiled at the mare, nodded hard, and then took Pumpkin by the shoulders and walked away. The mare still tried to convince them to stay, though, but Rumble paid her no heed.
“Well, that was educational,” Pumpkin said once they were far enough to be safe. “Didn’t know one could bend that way.”
“I feel violated,” Rumble said.
“Really?”
“Yes. But I’m going to ask Lemon Daze if she wants a whip.”
“Hahah. Gross. Hey, DT!” Pumpkin trotted towards the owner of the house and poked her in the stomach. “We just talked to a mare who wanted to cheer you up!”
“Hmmmmmmmmmmrfapplebloom?”
“Nope.”
“Hmmmmmmmmmrfmakeitworse.”
“Yeah, probably.”
“Okay, guys.” Sweetie Belle made it to them—she had to venture through what could only be described as a metaphorical middle finger towards celibacy to get there, but darn it if she couldn’t make sacrifices for the greater good sometimes. She also got a chance to slap a flank, which was pretty cool. “Bad news.”
“The paramedics aren’t here?”
“No.” Sweetie Belle sighed. “And they’ve never been. That other mare was probably either lying or mistaken, because the paramedics have never stepped into this library.”
“Damn it.” Rumble crossed his legs. “This is so stupid. We’re not going anywhere.”
“Yeah. We’ll never find them like this,” Sweetie Belle said. “The house is too big, and everypony is too busy to do anything.”
“But what else can we do?” Pumpkin asked, kicking away a book that fell towards her. The room was shaking so hard there were barely any books on the shelves by now. “It’s not like anypony is going to know where they a—wait a second. This is the second time I've had this realization.”
“YOU CAN’T BE HORRIBLE LIKE THAT WITH ME!” Twist was so close to Silver Spoon, their foreheads were pressing together. “THAT’S NOT SOMETHING YOU CAN DO!”
“You are blowing this way out of proportion here—”
“NO, I’M NOT!”
Silence.
Silver Spoon frowned. Twist was panting, looking at her with obvious expectation.
So she squinted and gave it a try. “Uh… Yes, you are?”
Twist yelled even harder. “SCREW YOU, SILVER SPOON!”
“Okay, so wrong answer.”
“CAN YOU AT LEAST TRY TO READ THE STUPID MOOD?!”
“I am reading the mood! You’re screaming, I’m being laid back on purpose to mess with you. That is some fine reading right the—”
“I AM NOT TALKING ABOUT THIS STUPID ARGUMENT!”
A pause.
“Wait.” Silver Spoon blinked. “You’re not?”
“OF COURSE I’M NOT! I’M NOT EVEN ANGRY ABOUT THIS ANYM—okay no, I’m still angry. That was a jerk move on your part.”
“Guilty as charged.”
“BUT THAT’S NOT THE ISSUE!” Twist got away from Silver Spoon so suddenly the latter tripped and almost fell to the floor. Twist then walked away, facing the opposite direction and throwing her hooves in the air. “IT’S NOT ABOUT THE GESTURE, IT’S ABOUT THE CONTEXT, IT’S ABOUT THIS… THIS WHOLE THING!”
Silver Spoon sat on the ground—Chof—and scratched the back of her neck. “It’s about how I call you a loser all the time?”
“NO!” Twist grabbed her head. “ARGH! I MEAN, YES!”
“So.” Silver Spoon frowned. “No but you mean yes?”
“MAYBE! IT’S AMBIGUOUS!”
“Would it help if I called you a loser now?”
“NO!”
“Is that ambiguous too?”
“I AM GOING TO GET YOU PREGNANT!”
Silence.
Silver Spoon got up. “Okay so I’m fairly sure that’s a biological impossibility, unless I seriously misjudged you, in which case I—ARGH, MY BUTT!”
“Aaaaaw.” Pinkie Pie giggled and ruffled Pumpkin Cake’s head, earning a pleasant squeak from her. “Of course you didn’t find the paramedics, you silly-willy-filly! You’re facing the wrong way!”
The kitchen looked bigger with Pinkie inside. Rumble had never been there before, but even he could tell the presence of Pinkie Pie in an apron would increase the size and kitchenness of any room.
So while Sweetie Belle, Diamond Tiara, and Pumpkin Cake sat at the table, listening to Pinkie, he just walked around the place, taking it all in. “Wow,” he said.
“Right?” Dinky was carrying something big, round, gun-like, and dangerously home-made on her shoulder while walking with him. “The place’s almost ominous now.”
“It’s amazing. What’s that you’re carrying?”
“Oh, Pinkie Pie told me about her Party Cannon, right?”
“Yes?”
“And I thought, hey, maybe we could take the ‘party’ part away. This can blast a guy twenty meters away.” Dinky smiled. “I have no idea what I’m going to do with it.”
Rumble looked at it. “Huh. Where did you get the materials?”
“I just disassembled some microwaves.”
“You did? Funny. I can’t see a single one in here.”
At the table, Sweetie Belle crossed her forelegs and looked at Pinkie like a soldier looks at his general. “What do you mean, the wrong way?” she asked.
“Not the right way!” Pinkie chirped.
“Huh. Logical.”
“So you can help us, then?” Pumpkin said, hope in her eyes. You could see it was hope because they were kind of twinkling, but not in a bad way. “You already baked the cake!”
They all looked at the right side of the table. A cake the size of a small horse stood tall, defying every single law of physics and diet ever. By its side, there was a pot full of cold water. “Indeed I did!” Pinkie said. “It was a challenge! They keep everything in the fridge, it was so weird.”
“RIGHT?!”
“Like, Babs was stuffed with microwaves when she came out of here, and I don’t see any.”
“Oh, yeah.” Dinky frowned as she looked around too. “That was so weird, but, like, in a cool way.”
“I’m just wondering where they’re stored, that’s all.”
“That cupboard.”
“Oooh.”
“You’ve cheated, though!” Pinkie frowned a little and rested her back on the chair, shooting each of the three mares in front of her a judgmental look. “You went and called me for help, just like that! That’s not how one makes a party!”
“But we needed you!”
“Well, you shouldn’t need me that much, then.” Pinkie blinked, and the bad look went away instantly, switched by a warm smile. She ruffled Pumpkin’s hair once more. “D’aw, but I can’t be mad at you. You did all you could, right?”
“Hmmmmmmmrfwhatever.”
“Uh.” Sweetie Belle scratched her forehead. “Well, we did look for the paramedics really thoroughly, I guess…”
“I’m not talking about that!” Pinkie said, letting Pumpkin go. “Sweetie Belle, this is a party! You need to know how to work yourself around a party!”
The three mares blinked. “What?”
Pinkie tched. “Look, you three need to understand this.” She pointed. “Diamond Tiara, you’re the one who organized this. Sweetie Belle, you and Apple Bloom and Scootaloo should know you have some responsibilities. And Pumpkin, you’ll be Ponyville’s Premiere Party Pony once I’m gone! So you can’t go cheating like that!”
Diamond Tiara sighed. The frown went away from her face for the first time since Apple Bloom had ditched her, although she still looked kind of mad. “What the hell are we talking about,” she said. “Do you know where the paramedics are, or…?”
“Of course I know where the paramedics are!” Pinkie said, resting her hooves on her hips. “I mean, duh! But you should know that too, you silly! If you go and ask me for help, you’re not working, so you’re cheating. And cheating is bad!”
Pumpkin looked distressed. “But…!”
“No buts, young lady!” Pinkie knocked on her head. “Pinkie’s talking!”
“Ow!”
“Now, I know that it’s hard.” Pinkie looked around, at the kitchen, the party, the whole house. “This is not the same kind of party I always make with my friends. And that’s fine! Parties evolve. Ponies evolve. And that’s also fine! You get new teeth and stuff.”
Diamond Tiara’s face didn’t change at all. “What.”
“But even if you do things differently, there are some rules. You’re the new generation, girls, and you need to start thinking like that—we can’t be in charge all the time, so you gotta take the torch and solve your problems by yourselves!” Pinkie rolled her eyes. “What, you think we never knocked anypony out during a party? Hah! You should have been there when I celebrated Princess Luna’s thousandth birthday!”
Sweetie Belle straightened her back. “Hey, I remember that! Rarity didn’t come back home until two weeks later, and she was covered in dirt and—”
“Oh, yeah.” Pinkie waved a hoof. “Rarity. We buried her alive.”
“You buried her al—WHAT.”
“She’s a heavy sleeper and we jump to conclusions now and then.” Pinkie Pie shrugged and looked away from Sweetie Belle. “Anyway…”
“Okay.” Rumble looked at the contents of the cupboard. “So, question.”
Dinky nodded. “Shoot.”
“The Rich family has twenty-seven microwaves in this kitchen.”
“Yes.”
“Why does the Rich family have twenty-seven microwaves in this kitchen.”
“Well, look at it this way: what would you buy twenty-seven times if you had their money?”
Rumble didn’t say a word. He just looked at the microwaves and frowned, deep in thought.
Dinky smiled. “Well, there’s your answer.”
“What I’m getting at,” Pinkie Pie said, ignoring Sweetie Belle with the nerve of somepony used to ignoring ponies like her on a daily basis, “is that we also got in trouble, but we never asked for help, now did we?”
“Hey!” Diamond Tiara, slammed the table. “Don’t give us that! You went running to Princess Celestia every two weeks!”
“Why, yes. She sure helped a lot, now didn't she.”
Silence.
Diamond Tiara squinted. “Damn.”
Pinkie replied with a smirk. “See? Parties are important; you get in trouble during parties. But you need to know how they work! They have a structure, they have rules one has to follow! Calling good old Pinkie is not one of them, because you’re taking the easy way out!”
“So,” Rumble said. “Next question: some of those microwaves are bigger than others.”
“Nature is wise,” Dinky replied, nodding.
“And… Okay, so this might be weird to ask, but by any chance aren’t you feeling curious as to what happens if one microwaves a microwave?”
“Rumble, if you didn’t have a girlfriend, I’d be having your babies this very instant.”
“I’ll be taking that as a yes.”
“But Pinkie, we really needed you!” Pumpkin pointed at the cake. “Somepony had to help them while I baked the cake, and—”
“And I baked that cake so you could help with the paramedics thing instead!” Pinkie said. “Why do you think I didn’t go after you when Babs started throwing microwaves?”
Diamond Tiara arched an eyebrow. “We mostly assumed you’re a sociopath.”
“And how right you are!” Pinkie said, winking at her. “But no that’s not the point. I did that because, well, obviously somepony had to bake the cake, but I know my parties, and the whole paramedic thing was supposed to be the climax.”
“The climax?”
“The climax?”
“That sounds sexual.”
Pinkie nodded. “Yes, the climax! But you blew it!”
“We blew it?”
“We blew it?”
“That sounds even more sexual.”
Pumpkin looked at Diamond Tiara, annoyed. “DT, shush.”
“Well, somepony’s gotta point it out. Might as well be me.”
“Yes, you blew it,” Pinkie said, not bothering to look at Diamond Tiara. “I mean, seriously! Spike crashing on Twist? Snips going Number Ten in midair? That just screams ‘end of the party’! Finish it with a bang!”
“Hey, Silver Spoon can still do that,” Diamond Tiara pointed out. “I mean, unless she messes it up big time, but not even she is that dumb.”
“HOW CAN YOU BE THIS DUMB?!”
Silence.
“Huh.” Silver Spoon looked around. “I don’t know why, but that remark felt really predictabl—”
“SHUT UP! SWEET BABY CELESTIA, JUST SHUT UP!” Twist sat on the ground, defeated. She was so red in the face it was a miracle there wasn’t steam coming out her ears. “I’M TRYING TO SORT THINGS OUT HERE, AND YOU’RE JUST THERE BEING AN IDIOT!”
“Again.” Silver Spoon pointed at herself. “Comes with the package.”
“BUT NOT LIKE THIS! I JUST—Argh!” Twist took a deep breath and glared at Silver Spoon. “I can never read you! That’s the problem here!”
“Don’t ask me to change, babe—wait.” Silver Spoon frowned. “Wait, wait, wait.” She shook her head. “Okay, I’m paying attention now.”
“Well, that gives me hope.”
“You can’t read me?” Silver Spoon asked. “The hell do you mean, you can’t read me? You wear reading glasses!”
“No, I can’t! It’s impossible! And I’m ignoring that remark for the sake of the argument.”
“Seems fair.”
Twist got up once more and started walking in circles around Silver Spoon. “First you hate me, then you hate me and start calling me a loser, and now this?! Just what do you want?!”
“Hey, hey, hey!” Silver Spoon got up too and faced Twist. “Don’t give me that—I have been extremely obvious! You know what I want!”
“Oh, do I?!” Twist let out a forced laugh. Almost sounded like a bark, which fitted her, seeing how she was acting, Silver Spoon thought. “Look, you being a jerk? I can buy that. I can understand you being a huge jerk to me, because that’s how you act. But then you soften the blows and just call me a ‘loser’ all the time.”
“That’d be because you’re one great big lo—”
“I am also ignoring that remark for the sake of the argument.”
“Yes, yes, sorry. I’m tired. Not bringing my top game here, no. Though I’m sure you’d like—”
“You made that joke already.”
“Damn.”
Twist sighed. “So yes, you try to be a jerk, because that’s how you communicate, but you don’t go full-jerk, so what the hell am I supposed to get there?” She arched an eyebrow. “That you hate me? That you hate me? You despise me so much you can’t even be eloquent, or it’s the exact opposite?”
“Well, I just—”
“And then,” Twist interrupted, raising her voice so Silver Spoon couldn’t talk, “you go and are nice to me. You do a really sweet thing, and I think that hey, maybe I’m finally getting what you’re trying to do!”
“That was just—!”
“BUT THEN!” Twist’s voice went from ‘slightly loud’ to ‘hide your children’ levels. “WHEN I THINK THAT I’VE FIGURED YOU OUT, YOU GO AND THROW ME TOWARDS A BABY DRAGON!”
Silence.
Silver Spoon squinted. “Well, drat. You said it right this time. Now I don’t know what I’m supposed to—”
“FAITHFUL LUNA ABOVE, I AM GOING TO MURD—okay. Okay, you know what?” Twist pressed a hoof against her forehead and pushed Silver Spoon aside. “Forget it. You can play the game as much as you want, but don’t count on me.”
“Hey!” Silver Spoon’s pupils shrank, turning into two barely visible dots. Her ears went flat against her head, her tail went between her legs, but she pressed back against Twist. “No, you can’t say that! What the hell do you mean, I can’t count on you? We clearly have something going on!”
“No, Silver Spoon. You have something going on with me, but I give up.” Twist didn’t raise her voice at all, and somehow that was worse. “Do whatever you want. I’m tired of this.”
“You can’t be tired of anything!” Silver Spoon’s voice, on the other hand, got more and more high-pitched with every word. She barely noticed she was hyperventilating. “I mean, we’ve got nothing going on anyway!”
“Well, you lost your chance, then.” Twist turned around and walked away.
Silver Spoon stood there, completely dumbfounded, for about two seconds. Then she blinked. “What the—Hey! No—hey!” She took a step forward, grabbed Twist by the tail, and pulled. Once they were face to face again, she pressed their foreheads together. “Are you kidding me? The very fact that you’re angry—that we’re having this conversation, really—kind of proves my point, doesn’t it?”
“Maybe it doesn’t.” Twist didn’t seem to care how close they were to each other. In fact, she grabbed Silver Spoon’s head tightly so she couldn’t escape. Her voice was low and sweet. “So you better say it out loudly and clearly, or else you can kiss my ass goodbye.”
Silence.
“So is that an invitation or—”
“You know exactly what it is.”
“Damn it.”
“Okay, so now you plug it in there.” Rumble pointed. “This is going to be so great.”
“I know, right? I feel like such an adult. Which microwave do we microwave?”
“Which looks more likely to explode?”
“This one.”
“Well, there’s your answer.”
“What I mean is,” Pinkie was saying, “that there’s no real way to follow up Snips going Number Ten in midair. No matter what you do, it’s going to drag on and probably be a bummer.” She made a pout. “And nopony likes bummers! And come on, looking for the paramedics? You were doing that already, so going back to it once the good part is done is just not that fun.”
“Uh.” Sweetie Belle raised a hoof. Pinkie pointed at her and nodded, so she talked. “…And why would we care about it being fun, exactly?”
“Because this is a party, you silly!” Pinkie said. There was a smile in her eyes and her voice, though her mouth didn’t feel like joining them. “Of course you need to have fun! Having fun is the number one rule!”
“But Spike and Snips need help!”
“Well, then look for them while having fun! We used to have fun and do stuff like that all the time, you know? We partied almost every week!” Pinkie nodded to herself. “Good times, good times.”
“You still party like once a week, Pinkie. My sister is never home.”
“Well, yes, but that’s just because we’re good at it. Parties are tricky! You need to notice everything around you for them to work!”
Bzuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuum.
“This is going to be so cool.”
“No.” Dinky squinted. “This is going to be so cool.”
“Ah. Yeah, the way you said it. Far better.”
“Okay, so can we cut to the chase already?” Diamond Tiara asked. “I mean, I’m trying to be angry here, and we are—ah!” She blinked and clapped once. “Oh my gosh! I almost forgot it! Pinkie Pie!”
Pinkie looked at her and smiled. “Yes?”
“You’re the biggest authority about parties in Ponyville, right? Everything you say is the law!”
Pinkie’s smile grew wider. “Yes!”
“Good!” Diamond Tiara leaned towards her, eyes gleaming, fierce grimace on her face. “Okay, so what are your views on self-mutilation?”
Silence.
Pinkie’s smile froze completely. When she spoke, she did so without moving an inch, from the corner of her mouth. “Um. Pumpkin?”
“Yes?”
“Mmmmmaybe you should get some new friends.”
“What? You just told us how you once buried Rarity alive!”
“Well, yes, but at least we had the decency to bury her whole.”
Bzuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuum.
Rumble sighed with satisfaction. “You know,” he said, his voice dreamy, “of all the things I’ve done today, this one is by far the best one that—”
Bzuuuu—BOOOM!
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!”
“OH MY GOSH IT EXPLODED! OH MY GOSH IT EXPLODED SO HARD!”
“THIS WAS SUCH AN UNPREDICTABLE OUTCOME!”
Pinkie shook her head. “So anyway, sociopaths aside—”
“Oh, like you’re one to talk!” DT scoffed.
“Yeah, I’m starting to think Ponyville’s levels of moral depravity are not normal,” Sweetie Belle muttered, frowning.
Silence. Everypony looked at her.
Sweetie Belle blinked. “Uh. Like, even if we ignore the whole ‘sex’ thing, I mean.”
Everypony nodded and made agreeing noises.
“So, ahem.” Pinkie tapped the table a couple times until she made sure everypony was paying attention to her. “This is your party, girls, and you messed up the whole rhythm of it by having the most fun before finishing it, and then trying to do the same thing twice to help Snips and Spike.”
“SHIVER MY DINGLEDONGER THIS THING IS ALSO ON FIRE!”
“WHEN WILL THE UNPREDICTABILITY STOP?!”
“That was a mistake. You should have thought about it better. Coordination, girls!”
“But…!” Pumpkin looked at her two companions. They looked as lost as her. “But that doesn’t make sense! It’s not like we had control over any of that!”
DT coughed and looked to the side.
And Pinkie Pie sighed. “Weeeell. I guess you are young. You see, girls, there’s a thing you must know: you are always in control, as long as you think about it hard enough!” Her eyes looked warmer than usual. Probably because they were reflecting the flames at the other side of the room. “You control the party, because you made it. You know everything that’s going on in there.”
“But that’s impossible!” Sweetie Belle said. “Nopony can know everything!”
“OKAY GIRLS I KNOW YOU’RE HAVING FUN OVER THERE BUT DINKY AND I JUST NOTICED THAT THE KITCHEN IS ON FIRE!”
“CELESTIA ON A BIKE THE FIRE IS GETTING TO THE OTHER MICROWAVES! THIS ENTIRE THING IS GOING TO—”
“Oh, girls.” Pinkie Pie smiled with her mouth closed, and shook her head. “I’m afraid…”
She punched the table.
The table bumped. The cake wobbled but stood still. The pot of water, however, went flying all across the room…
…and fell right on top of the burning microwaves, instantly putting out the fire and soaking Rumble and Dinky to the bone.
Everypony looked at the now-cooled corpse of the big microwave. Then they looked at Pinkie, mouths agape.
Pinkie’s smile was showing all her teeth now. She adjusted a pair of small, round glasses that had appeared on her face. “…You still have much to learn!”
“I’m tired, Silver Spoon,” Twist said, simply. She was still holding Silver Spoon’s face against her own. “So come on. Say whatever you’ve got to say, and we’ll be done.”
Silver Spoon swallowed.
Now, that was quite the challenge. Silver Spoon was no fool, but she had the feeling she was being quite the idiot at the moment.
Mostly because, okay, so she knew what she wanted with Twist. She’d known for a long time, in fact. Visualized it every night, rather graphically—say whatever you want about Silver Spoon, she had some great imagination. Entire books could be written about her daily fantasies with Twist.
But, dammit, she had some standards. No way Silver Spoon was going to be with a mare who wanted mushy stuff and gentleness—Silver Spoon had tried to be gentle once, and the entire east field of Sweet Apple Acres was still fallow.
No, Silver Spoon was going to be a jerk about it, and if Twist couldn’t understand her flirting when she was being needlessly mean about it, maybe they shouldn’t be toget—okay yes Silver Spoon this is why I’m saying you are being an idiot, this thing right here.
She had said it herself—the mere fact that they were having this conversation meant that Twist had actually got what she meant. So Silver Spoon could have tried to take the final step any moment and Twist would have reciprocated.
Well. Damn. This entire thing could have been avoided.
Okay, it was simple then! Silver Spoon wanted Twist, Twist wanted to know what Silver Spoon wanted, Silver Spoon happened to know what Twist wanted Silver Spoon to want. Easy-peasy.
She wanted to be with her, in a romantic way, not just sex. But that didn’t mean Silver Spoon wanted to be romantic, because that was for losers. However, trying to explain that would be tricky, especially with Twist being so pissed.
How to say it? Which words could make Twist understand? Silver Spoon wasn’t the best at talking, and Twist wasn’t good at listening, either. So that was going to be hard, unless…
Silver Spoon blinked.
Huh. Well, duh, there was only one way.
Slowly, deliberately, Silver Spoon raised a hoof and caressed Twist’s face. She put on her best seductive eyes, and leaned close, puckering her lips.
She stared deep into Twist’s eyes.
And then, she said the words that every mare wanted to hear.
“Gawk, gawk, gawk.”
Silence.
Twist tackled Silver Spoon to the ground and kissed her so hard it’s a miracle they didn’t swallow each other’s tongue.
And Pinkie Pie smiled.
“But of course,” she said, “even though it’s the easy way out, I’ll help you this time and I’ll tell you where the paramedics are.”
“Woah!” Dinky looked at Rumble, then at Pinkie. “We’re still doing that?”
Rumble took his wet mane away from his eyes. “Yes, we are. Now Snips’ hurt, too.”
“Awesome!”
“Oookay.” Diamond Tiara swallowed and pointed at Rumble and Dinky. “So, that was impressive. How did you…?”
“Please, DT.” Pinkie rolled her eyes. “Anypony would have microwaved a microwave if they had the chance!”
“Yeah.” Dinky crossed her forelegs, sat on the ground, and nodded. “Her logic holds up.”
“So you also know where the paramedics are?” Sweetie Belle asked. “But how?”
“Well, Sweetie Belle, it’s easy!” Pinkie readjusted her new glasses once more. They didn’t need any readjusting, she just liked the gesture. “You just need to use logic! Now, what do we know about the paramedics?”
“Uuuuh.” Pumpkin frowned and looked at the table. “That… they’re wearing white coats?”
“And?”
“And that it’s not a party until they’re here?”
“Exactly!” Pinkie said, clapping. “Because they sure know how to party, right?” She rested her head on her hooves and gave them a knowing grin. “Which of course means they always have really good parties.”
Pumpkin nodded. “…Yyyyes.”
“Really good parties.” Pinkie’s glasses gleamed, reflecting the light of absolutely nowhere. “Or, in other words, fantastic parties. Which sounds a lot like particus fantasticus. Which, as any good party planner like my dear Pumpkin Cake knows, is Old Equus for…”
“GASP!” Pumpkin Cake got up, eyes wide. “I CAN’T BELIEVE I’VE BEEN SO BLIND! I KNOW WHERE THE PARAMEDICS ARE!”
By the time the paramedics managed to get Snips and Spike out of the house and inside the ambulance, a small crowd had already formed around them. It was amazing how professional they could look while having ruffled manes and faces full of lipstick. Maybe that mare in the library was right, Pumpkin Cake thought as she looked at them. That uniform did look a little sexy.
“I can’t believe the answer was inside Featherweight all along,” Diamond Tiara muttered as they all watched the lights of the ambulance disappear into the horizon. “It’s so obvious in hindsight.”
“But we’ll never make the same mistake again,” Dinky said, nodding wisely, her forelegs around Sweetie Belle and Rumble’s shoulders. “We have learned many things today.”
“Oh, yeah?” Rumble shook her off. “Name one.”
“Weeeell, let me just…” Dinky squinted and licked her lips as she peered through the small crowd around them. Everypony was talking about Spike and the mysterious yet weirdly aphrodisiacal mummy. “HEY! RUBY PINCH!” She pointed at the mare, who looked at her with hopeful eyes. “I JUST HAD AN AMAZING TIME! AND YOU WEREN’T INVITED!”
The hope in those eyes got crushed. “OH MY GOSH, WHY WOULD YOU TELL ME THAT?! YOU’RE JUST LIKE MY MOTHER!”
“There.” Dinky turned to Rumble as Ruby Pinch ran away, crying her eyes out. The crowd opened up to let her past. “We just learned that, for example.”
“One day, somepony will beat you up so hard, Dinky,” Rumble said. “And it will be a fine day.”
“Probably. Tonight, however, I need to harvest the fruits of my labor.” Dinky winked at them all and walked away, following Ruby. “So if you excuse me…”
They all stared at her with varying levels of disgust until she turned a corner and went out of sight.
Sweetie Belle was the first one talking. “I can’t believe I had sex with her.”
“I don’t know,” Diamond Tiara said, frowning. “I mean, they’re happy in their own way.”
“…No.” Pumpkin Cake tapped DT on the shoulder. “No, they’re not. They—that’s not a happy couple, Diamond Tiara.”
The yellow mare popped out of the crowd and hugged her boyfriend. “Rumble! Where were you? I’ve been looking for you for hours! Hi, girls.”
“Hi, Lemon Daze,” they all replied.
“Oh, you won’t believe it!” Rumble said, smiling widely. “It was so wild. I spent like twenty minutes alone with Pound Cake—he even carried me on a flight!—and I did nothing to him because I love you that much, babe.”
“Oh my gosh!” Lemon Daze covered her mouth with a hoof. “That is so sweet!”
“I know!”
“It must have been so hard!”
“It was!”
They hugged, eyes closed, and the whole group just stared at them with varying levels of disgust.
“You want me to ask him for a threesome, don’t you.”
“SWEET BABY CELESTIA, LEMON DAZE, I LOVE YOU SO MUCH RIGHT NOW!”
“Hah. See?” Sweetie Belle elbowed Diamond Tiara as Rumble and Lemon Daze flew away, lost in a conversation about the many ways they would test Pound Cake’s stamina. “That is a happy relationship.”
“Yes.” Diamond Tiara’s face was the one of a kid who just saw her mother give the best present ever to the stupid cousin. “I hate them so much.”
“Hey, you don’t need to go that far to find something to hate.” Pumpkin pointed down, at the space right next to their hooves. “I mean, look.”
“Oh, yeah.” Diamond Tiara made sure not to look where Pumpkin was pointing. “Silver Spoon.”
Indeed, Silver Spoon. And Twist, now that we’re at it. Both were still on the floor, tangled like two wrestling octopi, making “mmpf” and “slurp” and “hfff” noises.
“They’re getting a little steamy, aren’t they?” Sweetie Belle said.
“Let them be,” Diamond Tiara said. “Silver Spoon has planned this moment for months.”
“I like it!” Pumpkin Cake smiled. “We can call them Twisted Spoon!”
“Kid, you’ve spent way too much time with Rumble.” DT frowned and looked behind Pumpkin Cake. “Hey, what’s that thing you’ve got there?”
“This?” Pumpkin showed it to her. “Dinky made it! I’m just borrowing it for a while.”
“Girls.” Sweetie Belle patted them both on the shoulder and pointed at Silver Spoon and Twist. “We should move them away.” She lowered her head, and her horn glimmered with a green light. “Pumpkin Cake? A little help?”
“Right!”
With Sweetie Belle and Pumpkin Cake’s magic, they managed to move the Twisted Spoon away from the door and to the hall. The busy couple didn’t seem to notice it when they were laid on top of the sofa.
“Well, that takes care of that,” Sweetie Belle said, moving a second seat right next to the sofa and sitting on it. “This way at least they have a little more privacy.”
“Yeah!” Pumpkin said. She got a chair. “They’ll be so thankful.”
Diamond Tiara opted for a lounge, and made sure she was taking as much space as physically possible while sitting on it. “They will. I mean, hey, at least somepony got a happy ending.”
“You’re still upset about Apple Bloom?” Sweetie Belle asked, making a pout. “Come on, it’s not that bad!”
“It is bad, and today is my birthday, so I have all the reasons to be upset!” Diamond Tiara said, crossing her legs. “And Apple Bloom is being an idiot!”
“Speaking about her,” Pumpkin said, “where is she? I haven’t seen her in forever, and—”
“Right behind ya!”
The three mares turned around. Twisted Spoon didn’t, though—they were too busy testing each other’s gag reflex.
Apple Bloom, Babs Seed, and Pound Cake were walking through the door to the hall, all smiles and gleaming eyes, their coats clean and fresh. It would be impossible to describe how they looked without using the word ‘joyous’, and Apple Bloom in particular had a surprisingly bouncy walk. “Heya!” she said, waving. “Guess who just dry-humped DT’s pillow like crazy!”
“OH, FOR CRYING OUT LOUD!”
“Woah.” Pumpkin looked at the three ponies—her brother was in the middle, looking proud, and Babs was blushing. “Seriously? You three went and…?”
“Hey.” Apple Bloom sat on Diamond Tiara’s lounge, pushing her aside unceremoniously. “It ain’t incest if Pound’s there.”
Babs got even redder. “…It ain’t straight if Apple Bloom’s there.”
Pound just smiled. “My life’s so awesome.”
“Wait.” Pumpkin looked at her brother as he got a chair of his own. “So you were getting laid while we were busy saving the day? That’s not fair!”
“Pumpkin,” Apple Bloom said. “He’s always getting laid.”
“Still doesn’t make it fair!”
“If it is of any consolation,” Pound said, sitting down and flexing his—wide, soft, gorgeous—wings, “those two were pretty busy double-teaming that pillow. I mostly watched.”
Diamond Tiara glared daggers at Apple Bloom. “You are disgusting.”
“Aw, don’t give me that.” Apple Bloom returned the glare with a smile. “Don’t you see anythin’ different?” She pointed down at her back. “We were busy doin’ more things than your pillow, y’know.”
Diamond Tiara frowned, but looked. “What are you talking ab—oh!” Her eyes went wide. “You cut your tail!”
A chuckle. “Eeyup. Well, Babs did. She’s got scissors as a cutie mark, doesn’t she?”
“But why?!”
Apple Bloom shrugged. “’Unno. The bottle didn’t break, but it did knock Spike out, so Ah figured you won that one.”
Diamond Tiara leaned against Apple Bloom, chest pressed against her side. Her eyes were twinkling, almost audibly. “Does that mean you didn’t… do anything else?”
“What? Heavens, no. We also had sex with Pound Cake.”
“Yeah,” Pound Cake said. “They did.”
“So much sex,” Babs agreed.
“At first they had some doubts, but then I squatted them into submission.”
“Yeah, he does power through everythin’. Why do you think Ah was walkin’ funny?”
Diamond Tiara leaned back, her eyes untwinkling. “Oh,” she said, her voice cold as ice. “Well. Good for you, then.”
“Aaaaaaw.” Apple Bloom patted DT’s hoof, still smiling. “C’mon. You know you’ve got no reason to be angry.” She was the one leaning towards Diamond Tiara this time, and once they were close again she landed a small kiss on her cheek. “Now we’re even, aren’t we?”
“Celestia.” Sweetie Belle looked at Pumpkin Cake, grimacing. “I’m starting to feel left out, here.”
“Yeah don’t look at me. You still stink like my brother.”
Diamond Tiara’s pupils grew when Apple Bloom kissed her, and while her cheeks didn’t get red, her overall pinkness looked a little darker than usual all of a sudden. She didn’t look at Apple Bloom, though; her gaze was fixed on the space in front of her.
A couple seconds passed. Apple Bloom leaned back and looked at her, the smile never leaving her face.
Then Diamond Tiara glared at her, and kissed her on the cheek, too, before turning completely away from her. “Hmpf!”
“Hahah. You’re so sappy.”
Pound Cake looked at the Twisted Spoon. “So, uh. Those two?”
“Yeah, they got together.”
“A shame,” Babs said, looking dreamy. “Twist looked so heterosexual. You don’t find mares like her very often.”
“Yeah, and is it me, or they’re getting worse?” Sweetie Belle said. “I mean, they weren’t exactly shying away of going nasty before, but look at Silver Spoon’s glasses.”
Pound Cake frowned. “Yeah. I think they’re trying to compete with Apple Bloom and Diamond Tiara.”
“Bloomed Jewel?”
“Pumpkin, shush.”
“So.” Apple Bloom got even closer to Diamond Tiara, who was still facing the opposite direction. “Are we girlfriends now?”
“Hmpf!”
“I’ll take that as a yes.” She hugged DT from behind, resting her hooves on her stomach. “Cool? We’re even? We can go dry-hump your pillow together?”
That earned a giggle from Diamond Tiara, and she relaxed. They stayed there, laying on the lounge, Apple Bloom holding DT from behind, just enjoying each other’s presence.
Then Diamond Tiara turned around. “In all seriousness, though, we’re burning that thing.”
“Yes.”
“We’re burning that thing first thing in the morning.”
“Yeees, yes, we’ll do that. Anyway!” She turned to her friends, and her smile was brighter than the sun for a moment. “We gotta celebrate this birthday properly!”
“Bathroom’s probably free by now.”
“No, Ah don’t mean—that comes later. Alcohol! Ah brought a lil’ thing myself, and we could all make a toast, now that everythin’ is solved! You in, Pumpkin, Pound?”
“Uuuuuuh.” Pumpkin frowned. “We’re underage.”
“Aw, Ah made it myself in my bathtub. Ah’m sure it can’t be that ba—woah.” She blinked. “That Twist and Silver Spoon?”
“Yeah,” Sweetie Belle said.
“They sure are havin’ a good time.”
“Yeah.”
“Isn’t that dangerous?” Diamond Tiara said, frowning. “I mean, I don’t want to alarm anypony, but I’m fairly sure they’re standing on—”
“HEY!” The door of the room slammed open, and a tempestuous, mouth-foaming Scootaloo appeared at the other side. “YOU TWO! STAY AWAY FROM MY SOFA!”
When Filthy Rich came back home the next day, he was carrying a brown bag over his shoulder, and had a funny look on his face. He looked around, humming happily, soaking in the absolute mess that was Maison du Riche.
There were stains everywhere. Every curtain was shredded. Not a single table or chair was still in its place, and for some reason he could see pieces of microwaves near the stairs.
Empty bottles in every corner, dents on the walls and the floor, food—Celestia, he hoped that was food—under the carpets.
And everything was completely silent.
News travelled fast. Filthy Rich had heard a lot of things about the party—he’d even gone to the hospital to check on Snips and Spike, to make sure they were fine.
So, he knew where to look. And sure, soon enough, Filthy Rich could hear a gentle snoring coming from the hall.
All huddled up on the floor, surrounded by seats and couches, were Diamond Tiara, Apple Bloom, Sweetie Belle, Scootaloo, Twist, Silver Spoon, and the Cake twins. They were all fast asleep, and sure, some of them were a little more huddled up than others, but overall they were a big, fluffy pile of drunk ponies sleeping. A bottle still half-full of something that looked dangerously home-brew was right next to them.
They were all smiling. Well, except for Scootaloo, Filthy Rich noted. She was facing the sofa with angry eyebrows.
But it still melted his heart. Smiling warmly, Filthy Rich looked inside his brown bag and retrieved a blanket, soft and warm. He tucked them in, earning pleasant grunts from all of them. They looked like puppies.
Filthy Rich just stood there, looking at them and thinking of his youth.
Then he got the other thing he was carrying in that bag.
PTWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH!”
“Ah-hah-hah.” Filthy Rich’s grin was bigger than the rest of his face put together as he put the airhorn down. The sound echoed and reverberated against the walls. “This is why I became a father,” he said. The eight hungover ponies squirmed in pain in front of him. PTWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH!”
“Music to my ears, I swear.”
“DAD I HATE YOU SO MUCH!”
“Well, yes, that’s the point of this whole thing.” Filthy Rich frowned. While trying to wriggle away from him, Pumpkin Cake had revealed something she’d been hiding under her body. Something gun-like, and dangerously home-made, pointing right at him. “Wait. What is th—”
Pumpkin pulled a string.
BOOM!
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!”
Tonk!
Silence.
Pumpkin managed to overcome her hangover long enough to smile. “Not that much to learn, after a—.”
