Newfoals are Weird
By PeachClover
Inspired by and dedicated to Chatoyance - The story doesn't end after the conflict;
it just gets too silly for the same book.
“I'm sorry you could only visit during my busy time, but at least we can chat while I clean up, right?”
“I understand, but what's this box with the hole in the top, Winning Streak?”
“Oh, the newfoals call that a 'suggestion box'. Apparently, they write their suggestions down on paper and put it into the box to be read by the pony they want to give advice.”
“Wow, that's awfully official of them! Are they really that long to need to be written down?”
“Nope, they are usually short and... kinda demanding.”
“That's odd... So~ is the advice they give so amazing that they put it in writing so that you can thank them later?”
“No, actually, most of the suggestions have no names on them, but funny you should mention amazing advice.”
“No names? Why not just tell you in person then? And why is it funny?”
“Well, I don't know, but that's the reason I told you I'd be busy for the next two days.”
“Alright, tell me about it.”
“Oh goodness... About a year ago, Satellite Dish came to me and said I should build that suggestion box, and-”
“Wait, wait, what is a Satellite Dish?”
“I have no idea. It must have been good if he named himself after it, but I've asked the restaurants around here, but they have never had a request for one.”
“Maybe it's his secret recipe?”
“No, if there's one thing I know about Satellite Dish, it's that he can't cook. To be honest... I think it was something he can't eat now that he's a pony.”
“Oh no, you mean... another creature?”
“That's what I think, but I've never asked him because it seems like a terrible thing to talk about.”
“Why would anypony want to name themselves after THAT?”
“Sometimes I get the impression that newfoals like to be reminded of the bad things they did so that they won't do them again.”
“... What sort of creature do you think it was?”
“Oh you ask such terrible things, but I'll tell you what I heard. Lean in close... Chickens.”
“No!”
“Yes~ Did you know that no chickens were allowed to cross the barrier into the newfoal's old land? It was to protect their very lives. The newfoals – before becoming ponies, had eaten every – last – chicken in their land!”
“That's just terrible! How could they let that happen? I mean, even if they had some crazy ravenous hunger, what about eggs for muffins, cakes, pies, and cinnamon-swirl buns?”
“I know, you think they would realize what was going to happen, but no. No more of those baked goodies because there were no chickens to make the eggs...”
“So~?”
“So what?”
“What about Satellite Dish and the-”
“Oh yes! So Satellite Dish tells me that I should have this suggestion box because it would help me to understand what they would like to see at the bowling alley, and-”
“Wait, why not just tell you in person?”
“Apparently, they were very distant from each other afraid to talk directly to one another.”
“You're joking.”
“No, Sports Car told me they were very good at sending messages back and forth over distances so great you couldn't even see the other pony.”
“That's just ridiculous, why not just go to them especially considering how long the replies must have taken?”
“One would think, but the replies were instant.”
“How could that be?”
“Apparently, they had a network of carriers to pass the messages.”
“But... How big was this network?”
“It covered their whole land.”
“No way. Even if they were pegasi flying as fast as they could surely they would run into each other if there was that many.”
“They did.”
“Oh goodness.”
“Sports Car said the system crashed about once a week, and then they had to 'reboot' it.”
“That's just indignant! Pegasi flying as fast as they can and when they fall not only do they not get help they get kicked?!”
“Oh I know, I know, but try to forgive them, it's all in the past; they're ponies now.”
“Well alright... Then what happened?”
“Hm? Oh! So Satellite Dish asked me to build this suggestion box, and I did, and I started getting suggestions, and they were generally good ones, but it was a learning experience.”
“Like what?”
“I was asked to carry cider and salt licks and all sorts of food, and that brought in more business.”
“Don't newfoals know bowling alleys are for bowling not eating.”
“From where they came, they had these big buildings called mauls where just about everything happened under one roof. I guess they are used to having everything in one place.”
“That actually sounds nice.”
“That's what I said, but then I was told they were so crowded a pony could not turn around in there, and true to their names, if somepony wasn't getting mauled by other ponies they were getting mauled by unreasonable prices.”
“Their old land keeps sounding more and more horrifying. Why would anypony go to a place that's named after the bad things that happen inside of it?”
“They said it was fun...”
“... Is that it?”
“What?”
“Well you said that you were busy because of what was put in the suggestion box.”
“Right, so the one suggestion I keep getting is to have a 'Boys' Night Out', and again I had to ask Satallite Dish what this meant and he said it was a special time set aside for males only or lower prices for males.”
“Please tell me he was joking with you! That's the most unfriendly thing I've ever heard! It's just wrong.”
“I said the same thing, and he said that it was not as mean as it sounded, but where they came from males and females didn't speak the same language, and there were times when the males and females would go to different places to seek understanding friendship from their own.”
“But... But we're ponies!”
“I know we are ponies, and ponies help each other, right?”
“Yeah, what's your point?”
“Well, I figured since both males and females of what the newfoals used to be now all speak our language, it wouldn't hurt to indulge them until they can understand each other better under Equestrian.”
“Oh... You're a really insightful pony, Winning.”
“I try, I try, but my first attempt landed me right in the mud.”
“What do you mean.”
“I made the last Tuesday of every month, Boys' Night Out, and made it males only for that day, but the first filly I stopped became very indignant, and made a huge scene.”
“Why's that?”
“Apparently, there were some fine details I didn't understand.”
“Did you find out?”
“Yes, that night, in fact. Crackerjack told me that it wasn't really fair to not let fillies in until after dark.”
“Wait! I got this one it's crackers and pepperjack cheese, right?”
“I think so.”
“Weird syntax, what's with newfoals naming themselves after food?”
“No idea. Then CJ says he's got a great idea for an advertisement, and that's the one outside of the alley right now.”
“Oh? I didn't notice. What does it say?”
“Boys' Night Out last Tuesday of Every Month for ColtCuddling – on the inside – Deeply.”
“Wait a minute... Are you telling me, they intend to lift tail right here in the alley?!”
“It shocked me too, but everypony laughed and kept asking to hear his idea again, so it must have been a good idea. We are supposed to make newfoals feel at home right?”
“Why not go outside like any sensible pony?”
“I think it goes back to that maul thing. Maybe after being inside for so long, they just don't feel comfortable lifting tail in the open.”
“They think they are going to be attacked or something?”
“I presume so, why else would anypony willingly enter a maul?”
“Good grief, I hope they don't start building those things around here.”
“Yeah, I put a word in with the mayor, and mauls are definitely out around here...”
“Why not in their own homes then, if they are afraid of the open?”
“I'm told their filly mates wouldn't approve.”
“You mean to tell me that in their old land, it was dangerous to step outside unless they were going to the maul, but fillies refused to let their stallion mate bring his stallion mate into their home for tail lifting?”
“It horrifies me to the core to think how callous they were before becoming newfoals, so let's try not to dwell on that fact.”
“I don't want to think about it either... Did it all work out after that?”
“I wish. After putting up the sign, some of the newfoals wouldn't talk to me for a while and others said I was being really bold doing this. The next Tuesday came around, and everyone seemed nervous like they were standing at a shore wanting to swim in shark infested waters. There were a few who just sat at the tables guzzling cider and salt as if they had never tasted either before.”
“Did they end up lifting tail at all?”
“Not at first. It was really tense for a while then two of the cider and salt deprived stallions started cuddling. It was cute, but I had to suppress a laugh because they were both plum saltlicked.”
“Hehehe, falling all over themselves while trying to mount up? I wish I could have seen that, but I couldn't keep myself from laughing if I did.”
“You wouldn't have been the only one. Almost every pony was staring at them and getting longer in the second tail while giggling or gasping.”
“Gasping?”
“I offer no explanation. I was only there while it happened.”
“Was that it then?”
“Nope. As soon as they mounted up, and gave a moan that caught the attention of the whole alley, somepony came up and asked if what they were doing was ok. This confused me, I thought everypony there that night was a newfoal and knew what was going on, but I told him it was, and it only took a few moments after that, before there was whooping and hollering and stallions plowing plots and planting trees. It was like a stampede except that all the movement was just back and forth.”
“That sounds a bit scary.”
“It was. I'm glad I build the serving nook, I just hid behind it, and acted like this was something I had seen before. After it was all over, I had to shut down the next day to clean up all of the stallion juice they left all over everything.”
“Is it always like that?”
“No, things calmed down after the first three times, and they started bowling as well as plowing on those days, thank the Princesses.”
“Wait, they didn't bowl on those Tuesdays?”
“Not for the first three times. They were so busy mounting and moaning and drinking and licking that they never got around to it.”
“And you just let that happen? What about your business?”
“Like I said, I want to help the newfoals settle into our ways, and I think the best way to do that is to let them feel comfortable and welcome.”
“... Is that it then?”
“No, there was another bit of confusion. Sometime later, as things settled down, a stallion and his colt came on one of those Tuesdays and he was just outraged that I would allow 'say-ucks' in the building where 'kids' were allowed.”
“Kids?”
“Apparently, that's what newfoals called their foals before they were ponies.”
“So they were... goats?”
“I never asked, and I don't intend to.”
“This just keeps getting weirder. What's a 'say-ucks' anyway?”
“That's what I asked and he was all sorts of furious and expected me to know. Luckily, Ram Chip stepped in and - don't even, I know what you're going to say – Ram Chip stepped in and explained that this was the Equestrian way, and he needed to chill.”
“What was the Equestrian way, exactly?”
“I asked that too, and he told me that in their old land, their 'kids' weren't supposed to see them 'fwa-king' which is the verb form of 'say-ucks' which means to mate.”
“Why would they care?”
“Well listen to this – the punishment for it was probably worse than bucking one of the Princesses in the face mind you, but some newfoals, before becoming ponies, actually wanted to mate with foals!”
“Mate with foals?! H-h-...HOW?”
“Unlike ponies, newfoals before they were ponies didn't have that something inside them that told them when to start mating and with what or whom.”
“You mean they didn't have a pheromone-based mating system?”
“How did you know that word?”
“I have newfoals in my city too you know.”
“Uh-huh”
“Only... Now, I know what that phrase means.”
“Heh, I thought so...”
“What happened after that?”
“Oh~ the town was gossipy for a while. Newfoals were learning how ponies work and Equestrians laughing at how silly and embarrass-able newfoals are. Ya see, newfoals didn't know that foals just can't care about mating until they are ready for it... You look like you are thinking hard about something.”
“I'm just trying to imagine a goat trying to mate with another tiny goat... How is that even possible?”
“Quit bending down like that, you look silly. Maybe they would stand on top of a box or something. Oh muffins...”
“What's up?”
“From the size difference, it would look like they are wearing a sock on their fifth leg.”
“Ha! Patterns or solids?”
“Oh stop that... Now, I have a mental image of somepony wearing five socks at once, thank you.”
“Hehe, would the fifth sock have a special design to go over a stallion's seed bag or end right before it?”
“It would have to end right before. Not every stallion has a seed bag remember.”
“Oh, somehow I forgot you were gelded. Why did you do that anyway? Doesn't it lower your desire to mate?”
“I did it because it catches both fillies' and stallions' attention, and yeah, it has lowered my desire to mate a little bit, but it doesn't lower the pleasure I get from it, so I can pay more attention to what I'm doing. You should see me during mating season. I have quite the positive reputation.”
“So no regrets at all?”
“Geez, these aren't the dark ages. If I ever wanted to have foals, I could have have my bag grown back just as easily and quickly as I had it removed.”
“So um... Did it hurt?”
“That's the number one question I get asked all the time, and the answer is: not at all. In fact, the doctor I had loves playing a particularly mean joke on geldings-to-be.”
“A mean joke?”
“Yeah, but it's a good one too. I stood with knees locked and he said once the nurses started the pain blocking spell, it would take a moment to start working so just relax and hold still. Then he said, 'alright, now this part is REALLY gonna hurt!' and I of course panicked and spun around shrieking and recoiling as if I saw a spider from Tartarus only to see he and the nurses were already finished and laughing at my reaction.”
“Hahaha! Oh wow, that is mean, but it sounds really funny.”
“Well after a moment, I was laughing with them. I didn't know I could hit those notes.”
“Heh... So tell me more about the newfoals. What happened after the dissatisfied customer?”
“Ah, yes, once the town learned about pony blossoming, business actually picked up, but guess what the next biggest request was.”
“I have no clue; what was it?”
“A play room.”
“A what?!”
“A room to entertain foals while their fathers had their fun at 'Boys' Night Out'.”
“This story is getting ridiculous!”
“I know I know, apparently, mothers were trying to keep their stallions from going to the alley that day, so they made the stallions 'watch' their foals that night.”
“What do you mean 'watch their foals'?”
“The place from where the newfoals came must have been so dangerous, that foals needed to be constantly protected instead of just playing like they do here.”
“Oh... Please say it's not so.”
“It really broke my heart to think how hard the newfoals' lives were before they came here.”
“Did you build the play room?”
“In deed, I did. I had to cut a hole in the wall to manage it, and then what I said to the mayor came back to bite me in the flank.”
“What do you mean?”
“The mayor reminded me that I was the one who asked that we prevent mauls from coming into existence, but my alley was turning into one.”
“What did you do?”
“I nearly broke down crying is what I did!”
“What do you mean?”
“I told her all these newfoals and their weird ways were getting to me, I tried to accommodate them all, but every time I did, they wanted something else!”
“Did she do anything about it?”
“Thankfully, she called a mandatory town meeting.”
“Really? How did that work out?”
“Well, there was a lot of arguing. Milkyway said it was, 'the best demonstration of the martial art of flung-poo he had ever seen.”
“Milkyway? … I am becoming convinced newfoals were starved before becoming ponies.”
“That might be so, they certainly eat like it.”
“So what happened by the end of the meeting?”
“By the end of the meeting everypony had reached a compromise. The newfoals were quite embarrassed as they learned many things about ponies that we would say are very obvious.”
“Like what?”
“Like how ponies don't have just ONE mate.”
“They thought that - Luna's moon, I can't fathom these creatures anymore.”
“But like I said, everything was resolved, and now I am back to living a relatively normal life. In the end the suggestion box brought more business and a higher reputation than I ever thought I could get from a bowling alley.”
“And that's the whole story, huh?”
“That's the whole story.”
“... There's one thing I don't understand.”
“What's that?”
“If you were busy yesterday for the 'Boys' Night Out', and busy today cleaning up the sticky mess they made, what are you doing for the next two days?”
“That was the compromise that made everypony happy and ended all the bickering.”
“What was?”
“'Girls' Night Out'.”
