Red Rum Cake #11

[Part 3 of “The Date”]

-----

>after a few moments of admiration of the well-lit club, you take your place in line

>Pinkie: “This is gonna be soooo awesome~!”

>you’re glad she’s mostly forgot about what just happened, but it’s still fresh in your mind

>the fear, the danger, the scent and sight of the blood of that assassin

>it will be forever imprinted in your mind, of a murder that wasn’t your own

>you give a sigh and press on mentally

>this rather tightly grabs Pinkie’s attention

>Pinkie: “Hey… hey. Kneel down for me, will you?”

>you glance down at her exhaustedly for a moment, trying to calculate her actions

>nothing can be seen behind those wonderful blue eyes and serious face, and you soon comply

>upon resting on a single knee, she leans in and plants a light kiss on the cheek, immediately perturbing you

Pinkie…

>Pinkie: “You need to relax, cupcake. I can’t have a good night if my lover isn’t just as happy as I am! Forget about the past, and enjoy the present for me, will ya?”

>you feel like there is a pun there, but her words heal a bit of stress nonetheless

>running your hand down her mane and kissing her on the cheek mischievously, you lean back up while ignoring her mad flush of color

>finally reaching the end of the line, a stallion that looks like he could OD on steroids at any moment is playing bouncer to the club

>you don’t know what’s larger, his front biceps or his stoobs

>stallion boobs

>Bouncer: “Are you on the list?”

Anon.

>he eyes you carefully, noticing the obvious part of you being human, and runs down the list of names

>what Pinkie or any of the ponies here don’t know is that you own this club, no joke

>they lacked such a joint in Equestria when you first came here, and Canterlot is much closer than the bulky and more worthy Manehatten

>despite it being the capital city, you eventually bought the rundown building, renovated it, and hired a particularly close pony as manager so it does the work on its own

>this is how you continuously obtain gold nowadays, instead of sinking to such pathetic acts again

>The Night Owl is your personal haven, and you’ve only been in it since it’s opened three times

>you can tell when he realizes your name is at the very top of the list, written in big red letters

>Bouncer: “Oh… Mr. Anon, please excuse my behavior. Do, come in and enjoy your time!”

>you give a nod as Pinkie eyes you suspiciously, the both of you making your way into the lobby

>Pinkie: “Have you been here before?”

A couple times.

-----

>now, there is a little lobby room that seals the cold and sound should either try to get in or come out

>you can hear the pounding of bass speakers echoing through the walls

>the door handles are actually vibrating, for crying out loud

Now Pinkie, understand that it might be crowded, and difficult to hear each other once we get in there-

>the doors behind you open, and a couple are walking, grumbling about paying so much for an entry

>you prepare yourself as they open the second set of doors, and the noise just thrusts itself in the lobby like a raging minotaur with hemorrhoids

>after your body experiences a couple seconds of audio ecstasy, the door closes itself to leave the wubbing music muffled, foreboding in its own right

>Pinkie: “That, that is … loud.”

Sure you want to go in, sweetheart?

>she gives you a determined look and nods

Alright, just remember; follow me no matter what, and enjoy the hell out of yourself.

>Pinkie: “Okie dokie lo-WUB WUB WUB WUB WUB”

>her voice is shaken as you open the doors, and a wondrous sight unfolds before you

>flashing lights, strobes, neons, etc

>mist traveling the floor

>and more ponies than you’re sure a fire chief would permit in a single room

>it looks entirely the same as the last time you were here, although not nearly as empty

>it appears some ponies like to relieve stress by rocking out on the floor

>not to mention a DJ of honor is performing tonight

>you follow the nearest wall to the bar on the side, and the manager, who just happens to be the bartender as well, recognizes you as you reach the table

>it may have been loud, but the words exchanged are crystal clear

>???: “Hey there, stranger. Long time, no see.”

I’m dating, Dash, so try to hold your tongue.

>taking a seat, you gesture to Pinkie Pie, who’s ogling at Rainbow Dash

>it appears Rainbow is returning the favor, and you raise an eyebrow

You two know each other, I take it?

>the two of them look at you with faces that state the obvious

-----

>Rainbow Dash was your first contact into Ponyville, one of very few ponies in Canterlot (perhaps Equestria) that you actually trust

>she knows all about your string pulling when you first got here, but nothing of what happened when you “set shop” at your newer home

>the two of you have talked, shared a few interesting experiences

>nothing romantic sparked, as it was pure conversation of interests

>after a couple months of meeting up at different places, you soon realized that there was no bar or the like for any shady conversation to be exchanged

>she brought up the idea of always wanting a “cool place” where the two of you could hang out

>this led to you eventually founding The Night Owl, and entrusting her with it

>a few months later… something happened with you, and you needed a place that wasn’t in Canterlot

>she suggested Ponyville, and here you are

>you keep somewhat regular contact with her, but it’s been a long while since you were face to face like this

>apparently it’s the same with her and Pinkie Pie

-----

>Rainbow Dash appears to be nervous, anxious even

>Pinkie Pie is quietly glaring at Rainbow Dash, as if egging her on to do something

Explain yourselves, or do you mean to tell me that mares in their estrus cycle go at each other throats if a male is nearby?

>Rainbow scoffs and Pinkie pouts, how fitting

>Dashie: “Of course not, it’s just, uh…”

>Pinkie: “Anon, she one of the six that defeated Discord. Remember the Hall of Harmony?”

Oh. Ohhhh. Seriously, Rainbow?

>she nods enthusiastically

>Rainbow: “Dead serious.”

Well, who fucking knew? Apparently I didn’t. So you guys used to hang out a lot?

>Rainbow Dash gives a halfhearted shrug, a bit nervous to ask these questions

>Rainbow: “You never asked, and… yes, I guess you can say that.”

>Pinkie: “Rainbow and I used to have all SORTS of fun!”

>the smile on Pinkie’s face was horrifying in itself, although well masked by her cuteness

>the look of horror on Rainbow’s face is also evident, although also properly masked with an aura of coolness

>something happened between these two, you just have to figure out what

-----

Alright, so you have some of “the good stuff” stored somewhere, correct?

>Rainbow manages to switch her attention to you, before giving a devilish grin herself

>Rainbow: “I still have a decent amount of the stuff you taught me how to distill, yes. It’s been in cold storage all this time, seeing how ponies don’t know what alcohol is.”

>Pinkie: “Anon~! What’s alcohol?”

You’re about to find out, sweetheart. Rainbow, if you could, pull me out a nice jar of the white gold.

>she gives a hearty nod, and you swing your rotating chair around to watch the crowd

>you didn’t even notice the DJ until just now, and Vinyl Scratch is certainly what her reputation proclaims

>she’s owning like a fifth of the room with speakers and a ridiculously large DJ stand, her blue striped hair swaying with the melody

>and aura of mystery surrounds her, her goggles yet another mask as those pathetic nobles

>however, this mask feels somewhat different

>not one of cunning or arrogance, but fear and sorrow

>you finally realize how loud you must have been yelling for that conversation, because she’s got that baby cranked up

>you can barely hear the glass as it hits the counter behind you

>spinning around, you find that Pinkie is glowering into the counter, a large jar of crystal clear liquid in frosty glass now in your immediate possession

>apparently you’ve been ignoring her too much or something

>you have much to learn, young murderwan

>you decide that you might as well surprise her as you swing around and grapple her around the midriff

>Pinkie: “Buh…? WAH! Anon~!”

>she’s now on your lap, your arms around her affectionately

>she enjoys the physical contacts, you knew that from night one

>your hands are crossed across her chest, analyzing her lungs

>you can feel her heartbeat and lung slowing down; it appears she’s relaxing a bit more now thankfully

>you look silently over at Rainbow Dash with your chin on Pinkie’s mane

>Dash appears to be soundlessly agitated at the sight; perhaps this month of the year does that

>tough luck, kiddo

-----

>Pinkie tries to see her reflection in your drink, shifting the position of her flank on your crotch

>the motion is effective, but not enough to cause any distress to the old god

>the great entity remains unstirred from its rest

>Pinkie: “What is it, Anon~?”

It’s called vodka, or at least the closest to vodka that I’ll ever get.

>Pinkie: “Ooo, does it tastes good?”

If you have enough, very much so, but it serves an entirely different purpose.

>Pinkie: “Ahh… like what~?”

It makes you into a complete dumbass.

>with this you lift the glass over her head and swig as much as your throat can handle

>her eyes follow the jar as it reachs your much, watching you slam the liquor upside down

>you give a hearty exhalation as you slam the container on the table

Good shit, matey.

>Rainbow: “Glad to see it’s still great after all this time.”

>you savor the burning sensation in the back of your throat, staring off to the flickering ceiling

>tonight’s gonna be a wonderful night

>you contemplate how well this will go, tossing your cares to the side, when you hear a disturbing clink of glass on wood amongst the powerful bass pounding the room

>looking down, you claim witness alongside Dashie as Pinkie gives her own sound of satisfaction

>the jar is fucking empty, oh sweet Farore

Pinkie… that was an awful lot, considering your size.

>she looks up at you with a face that spoke chapters on how disgusting the taste was

>Pinkie: “That crud was NASTY!!”

Like I said, after enough of it, it starts to get better; however… I’m definitely cutting you off for the night, you might be out before we get to the hotel.

>she spins around in your lap to face you, grappling your overcoat

>HOW

>HOW CAN SHE GRAB THINGS, IT DOESN’T MAKE SENSE

>Pinkie: “But I don’t wanna go to bed yet, it’s so early still~!”

>your mind is finally slammed by the barrage of alcohol, and despite the quelling feelings of paranoia, wariness, and other dark emotions, you have only two things on your mind:

>Pinkie Pie, and that dance floor

Come on, let me show you how to really party.

-----

>you’re not going to lie, you immediately embarrass yourself by dropping Pinkie to the floor and tripping on the chair

>Pinkie: “Hey, Anon, be care- whoa…!”

>looks like she’s enjoying herself as well

Come… on… TO DAH DANCE FLOOOR~!

>this gets nearby ponies’ attention, and they split a pathway to the dance floor’s center

>it’s about time these fuckers gave you some distance, it’s as if you’re on fire

>if you breathe near an open flame, that might just happen

>you’re slowly starting to regret drinking so much as you stumble like some fool

>you’re an easy target right now, and you’re quite sure Princess Assface would be more than glad to make a scene even in front of all these ponies

>nonetheless, you proceed with a lack of a care for the world

>you were under the tipsy assumption that Pinkie was right behind you

>this was not the case as you sweep around upon reaching the center of the floor

>the great parting of ponies was starting to shift back together, with Pinkie still on the outside circle, the world entirely dizzy to her

>you point at Rainbow Dash, who’s watching your actions with amusement

>after making some motions to Pinkie Pie and yourself, she sighs and flies over to the pink mare

>lifting her up, she carries Pinkie over to you, safely into your arms

Thanks, Dashie.

>Rainbow: “Try not to make a complete fool out of yourself!”

>too late for that, my friend, too late for that

>reaching the podium to Vinyl Scratch, who is making the beats swing like an ape escape bonanza, she relocates a single headphone to hear your request

>Pinkie still in your arms, mumbling something, you shout something inaudible to Vinyl, who gives a toothy grin in response along with a nod

>as soon as the song ends, she pulls up the microphone

>Vinyl: “Mares and Stallion, the special guest of the night has made a request!”

>you can hear the mumbling of randomly strung rumors at this, but you ignore it as you return to your stomping grounds, placing Pinkie on the floor

>Pinkie: “Anon… I feel weird… good, but I’m dizzy, and the room is spinning…”

Don’t worthy, I’ll protect you. Just enjoy yourself, alright?

>she gives an innocent and funny looking grin

>Pinkie: “Okie dokie lokie~!<3”

>Vinyl: “Presenting Anon’s own recorded song, I give to you- THIS!”

>[Note that this isn’t truly your song; it was with the work of Vinyl’s techno and your singing that it was properly recreated]

>[http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mrywTpfDIHU]

>you feel that familiar beat, your and Vinyl’s voice blending together into a fine beat

>it’s funny as to how much you put into that song,  considering that it’s one of the few pleasure you’ve given yourself in this world

>and now you’ve laying it all down for this drunken Pinkie Pie, who likely doesn’t even know what’s going on

>you look down at her, you’re quite wrong

>in fact, you seem to be so wrong that you should be disqualified from being right ever again

>her ears twitched to the very beginning of the beat, her flank swinging to an upright position until she was fully standing

>by the time the lyrics came in, she was pulling off moves that put this entire crowd to shame

>they all cheer as they join the fray, and soon the time is nigh upon you

>Pinkie is entering a drunken trance, her body outmatching herself

>she’s showing you up on your dancing skills

>it is time to educate these ponies how the art of dance is done right!

-----

> Dance        Item

> Magic        Flee

> /Dance

+Breakdown

+Classic

+God Mode

+Numa Numa

> /Dance=Numa Numa

>your feet strike the floor like lightning, your legs already making the motion for the next movement before your toes can rest

>your arms pump and thrust into the air, slicing the dimension of space itself as you travel the cosmos with your rhythmic dancing pattern

>what may have been an infamous dance move in your previous world is an instant hit here, ponies cheering as you work the song to your will

> /Magic

+Anacondius, Destroyer of Mare Vaginas

+Razor Edge Dagger Mirage Trick

+Moonwalk

+Secret Button

> /Magic=Moonwalk+Secret Button

>your legs take a force of their own, smoothly sliding across the floor in a way that bewilders anyone witnessing

>behold, Pinkie is literally mirroring your motions now, her four hooves in sync somehow with your own two

>snapping your finger, Rainbow sees the sign and pushes a button under the counter for the first time since the club opened

>a vent opens from the ceiling, and a diamond encrusted disco ball lowers itself, the reflection of the strobe lights making the sight equivalent to that of reaching the promised land

>you’re making the night one for these ponies to remember, pulling off dance moves like it’s easy mode on DDR

>that’s what you thought until you turned around to give Pinkie the reason as to why you’re the boss of dancing

>the crowd has given her a wide mooring space now, as she’s throwing up all over the floor

>apparently the liquor and sudden movement was too much for her

>the sight of this makes Vinyl cringe and Rainbow Dash shake her head disappointedly

>both of them can fuck right off, this is your lover

-----

>pulling off your ascot and wiping her mouth, you take Pinkie to the back of the club as Rainbow agitatedly goes in to do a power cleaning on the floor

>looks like sales might not do too hot tonight

>taking Pinkie into the “employee’s bathroom”, you gauge the sight

>her dress is ruined, or at the very least the bile is going to take hell to clean out

>you rub her back as she hangs over the toilet and begins regurgitating the rest of the alcohol, her sobs and groans echoing in the room

>Pinkie: “It hurts… Anon… it hurts…!”

Just relax, you had a little too much. Just let it go until your feel better.

>she nods and lets loose ahead, the smell almost enough to make you give in as well

>thankfully you’re far too used to disgusting odors, and this is a spring breeze compared to a rotting corpse

>after about fifteen minutes, you help her remove her dress, and you ball it up and toss it away

>Pinkie: “Anon… that was my only special dress… and now… it’s ruined…”

>she’s decently upset, and you do your best to make up for it

You only had that one? Pinkie, you should have told me, I would have gotten you at least a few. Remind me when we get back to Ponyville to talk with Rarity; we’ll get you dressed up in no time.

>you hug her as she begins to cry, and you help wash her face via the sink

>wiping her chin, you give her a light kiss to make her feel better, and you already feel yourself starting to sober up

>you don’t know how she’s faring after that, but it’s certain that tonight is not going to be anything but a bath and bed

>picking her up, you do your best to get the door, and she pulls the handle open for you

>Rainbow is waiting outside, the music blaring back into action again

>Dashie: “You DO know this is the stallions’ restrooms, right?”

You DO know I own this fucking place, right?

>Pinkie: “Huh~…?”

Ignore that. Dashie, I’m sorry about tonight, it was a stupid idea, and I regret coming here to do this. I’m heading back to the hotel, I’ll talk to you later, alright?

>Dashie grunts nonchalantly, obviously not amused by this turn of events

>Rainbow: “Fine, but next time you’re here, we’re going to have a nice, long talk.”

Deal, good night.

>you exit out the back door, again Pinkie being the courtesy door opener

Thank you, sweetheart.

>Pinkie: “… Is this your club?”

>you take a long hard while before you answer that

It was a slip of the tongue.

>Pinkie: “That doesn’t… answer my question.”

>you’re back on the main street now, and with the luck of the goddesses themselves there is a single carriage waiting to take someone too tired to walk home

>a stallion was getting ready to take it, but you ask him to stop

>by ask you mean hand a dozen bits in his direction to convince him he needs the exercise

>you are far too intoxicated to walk home, and if someone caught you in this position, you wouldn’t know what to do

>Pinkie: “Anon…”

Yes, I am the founder and owner of The Night Owl. Sir, to the Canterlot Hotel, if you could.

>having seen you hand the other stallion a decent amount of money, he was more than happy to make the trip in hopes of a generous tip

I figured I would try to show off the things I have to you, for once, and make sure you have a boundless time. However… it appears my arrogance caused the plan to backfire.

>you hold her close to your midriff, more for your sake than hers

>why… why do you feel this way…?

>is this… genuine regret, disappointment?

>did you honestly wanted to impress this pawn, this obedient bubblegum colored mare?

> No… don’t speak about her like that ever again.

>she is much more than a pawn to your chessboard now

>she has become your rook

>your bishop, your knight

>your queen

>even your king

>this is no longer a game to you, with disposable and expendable pieces with careful and cold logical planning

>she is tangible; she is reality to you

>this mare is proof that you’ve yet to turn into a true monster

>and you care for her, more than any longing for vengeance and hatred you carry for this world

>perhaps even yourself

>you actually love Pinkie Pie, and you’ll never understand why

>the two of you remain silent as the night takes you away

-----

>about twenty minutes later, you’re standing in front of the Canterlot Hotel, Pinkie by your side once more

>for unknown reasons, she does not wish for you to carry her anymore

>the two of you make your way inside to the front desk, where a fairly large unicorn with beaded glasses is the acting receptionist

>Receptionist: “It’s almost midnight. Can I help you?”

You can help me first by not pointing out how obvious the time is. The better thing you can do is get a suite for two nights, the best one money can get me.

>she lowers her rimmed glass at you and scoffs

>you stare at her with such obvious persuasion that she dare not continue any scathing remarks

>Receptionist: “Will the Royal Suite do?”

>she shows the price, having only expected the princesses and nobles themselves only able to rent it for a day, let alone two

>she lets you know this with a shit eating grin

>she does not know the truth, no one does

Yes, that’s fine, and make sure that breakfast that is detailed in it has toast, I think she’s going to need it in the morning.

>you motion to Pinkie, who is staring off into the distance

>she’s starting to make you worry; hopefully the alcohol hasn’t reverted her back into her passion for reproduction and murder

>the receptionist is beyond words that you are able to afford such a thing, and her tone goes from the least of annoyance to that of uttermost respect

>Receptionist: “You do plan to pay now, correct sir?”

>where you had that small bag of not gold, but platinum bits hidden will be your secret

>however, one of these is enough to buy your home three times over

>you pull one out and set it on the counter, and the unicorn gasps

>she usually sees this much only once or twice a year, and you’re pocketing a healthy amount of them in your pocket like its candy

There should be about half of that in change for me. I ask you don’t give me the bag of bits until I check out.

>Receptionist: “Y-yes, sir! I’ll have you escorted up t-“

No need, I’d just like the key, and get some rest.

>she nods obediently and hands you the numbered key

>the head of the key is plated gold

>how fancy

>end