>It’s been a good night so far at the Honeymoon Café.
>Open every day from 3PM to 3AM! Except Mondays. Then it’s 2PM to 2AM. 
>And today just so happens to be Monday.
>And closing time is in less than half an hour.
>You let out a happy sigh as business hours wind down, as happy ponies enjoy your special milkshakes and leave to go about their busy nights.
>You polish the counter to pass the time, humming a little tune and bobbing your head, eyes closed.
>You are Milkshake Honeymoon, and you were-
>”Lookin’ mighty fine tonight there, baby…*hic*”
>Your happy tune train stops dead in its tracks as you open your eyes, revealing a clearly hammered stallion.
>You huff at your terrible luck. This late at night, some day-ponies happened to stumble in here on their way home. Drunk. And they always tried to hit on you.
>And tonight was going so well…
>You force a polite smile and ask in pleasant tones:
“Is there anything I help you with, sir?” 
>The drunkard taps his chin, then points behind you.
>”Aaauuhhh… Les’ see… Could you mebbe read me that menu? I cannut see so good…”
>Happy to oblige, you turn around as he mutters to himself, and begin reading from the menu.
“We have milkshakes of all sort, including classics like vanilla and chocolate, to my own special Honeymoon Milkshake, and anything in between, like strawberry, caramel…”
>You enthusiastically list off the flavors, proud of your selection.
>About halfway through the list (over three dozen flavors!), your sensitive bat ears hear a whistle and a mutter behind you.
>”Heheh, don’t call ‘er Honeymoon for nothin’, I see…”
>Oh, darn it! Of course he’d be looking there!
>You whip around and glare at him, feeling the red flood to in your cheeks.
“H-hey, eyes off, mister!”
>The stallion holds up both hooves as if he’s been falsely accused.
>”Whoa now there, sweetcheeks, I was just *hic* admiring your uh… Counter, here.” He says while rubbing his hoof along the surface as if it were some kind of treasure. “Now why dontcha turn around and finish that listy-thing you got there?”
>Yeah, he’d like that, wouldn’t he? No way were you letting him get what he wanted.
>You folded your ears, scrunched your snout, puffed your cheeks, and gave him the meanest glare you could manage.
“As if! Y-you try anything, buster, and I might do something I’ll regret!”
>Your attempt to intimidate him obviously isn’t working, as he laughs as if you were cute or something.
>”Hehe, what’re you gonna do missy? I wanna know… *hic*”
>Looks like you have to bring out the secret weapon. You smile and whip up a delicious Honeymoon Milkshake.
“W-Why, offer you an entry to a contest I’m having!”
>The stallion stares at the milkshake, dumbfounded. “Wha..?”
“I’m having a contest, and there’s amazing prizes if you win…”
>You give a wink to spark his interest.
>It works. He grins and inquires, “Really now? Whadda I have t’do?” 
“All you have to do is drink this entire, amazing milkshake, through the straw, in record time! Which is fifteen seconds, by the way.”
>The stallion pumps his hoof against his chest. “Why, thas’ easy! I’ll chug this thing like I chug’d those ciders… Like ahh uhh… Champion chugging machine!” 
>He snatches up the milkshake, and begins chugging it through the straw.
>Oh, how easy it was to trick ponies when they were intoxicated.
>The stallion downs almost two thirds of the glass, then his eyes widen. He hold his head with his hooves and starts groaning.
>”Aaaaagh, my head! Errrgh! Blast! …Curses! Aaaaaaaghh….”
>His curses fade as he stumbles out of the café, suffering from a headsplitting brainfreeze.
>You giggle. Gets ‘em every time.
>Working this late every night, you get used to these types of encounters. They never seem to remember your trick, though. 
>You realize that that was the last customer, and it was closing time.
>You close up shop, and prepare yourself for your journey.
>It was Monday night, and that meant honey-collecting night. Time to visit your sleepy, stingered, striped friends.

End.
