Milkshakes

Autumn leaves swirled in his wake as a burly white Pegasus circled his cloud house.  There seemed to be something poetic about the way they danced around him.  It often amazed him that leaves could reach his altitude in the first place, but that would only serve to remind him of his own tiny wings.  He buzzed them a bit for no good reason.  Coasting in as he was, he didn’t need to flap them at all.  Caught up in the moment as he was, it was a somewhat metaphorical flapping.  Like a bumblebee, wings like his shouldn’t allow him to fly, and yet, here he was training to be a Wonderbolt…

Speaking of training, it had gone exceptionally well that day.  Of course, how could it not have gone well when Rainbow Dash had selected him out of all of the other cadets to be her wing pony for their assignment?  He paused for a moment, a look of deep concern crossing his brow.  My son knows who Rainbow Dash is, doesn’t he?  I mean, I’ve never seen him at any of the fan club meetings or anything like that, but still, he has to have heard of her, right?  I’m sure I mentioned her when I told him about the hurricane.  What if he thinks I mean Fluttershy?  Not that there’s anything wrong with Fluttershy.  She’s such a sweetheart, that one, and a hero in her own way... but nopony could ever mistake Fluttershy for a Wonderbolt.

Snowflake sighed as he landed on the soft cushion of clouds that formed the foundation of his home.  A look of resolve crossed his face.  No.  My son will be proud of his old sire.  I set a good example for him.  I am a pony worth looking up to.

Snowflake marched toward his front door, his gut sucked in, his expansive chest thrust out, his head held high.  He opened the door with gusto, announcing his presence to all residents within.

“Daddy’s hoooo—“

There wasn’t much in the wide world of Equestria that would shock a pony of Snowflake’s... stature.  Prior to his acceptance into Wonderbolt Academy, he had been a bouncer at Berry Punch’s bar, and had been privy to some sights that would leave many a pony feeling nauseated.  The Academy itself had been training him to expect the unexpected.  But this… he blinked twice to make sure that he was truly seeing what he was seeing.

Featherweight stood by the kitchen table with a spoon in his mouth, digging into a large, white  cylindrical container and scooping out granules of cream colored powder into a glass.  With his keen eyesight, Snowflake easily read the label on the container.

Dr. Hanzenfranz Weight Gain 9001.  Garanteed to bulk (clap clap) YOU up.

The clapping was imaginary, but Snowflake had heard the radio commercials enough times, and subconsciously imagined the accented spokespony as he read the words.

The spoon fell out of Featherweight’s mouth and landed on the cloud floor with a “floof.”  Powder scattered around, giving the floor a slightly creamy hue where it landed.

A staring contest began between father and son.  Unlike normal staring contests, this one had the unusual sense of the both ponies trying to will the other to be the one to speak first.  Finally, just as Snowflake was about to cut through the tension, Featherweight cracked.

“It’s not yours, dad.  I saved up and bought my own.”

The colt looked at his father expectantly. Snowflake swore he could see hope glimmering in Featherweight’s eyes.  He knew that his son expected an answer from him.  There was also the unmistakable hint of fear.  Snowflake knew that look, having seen it on the faces of the lowlifes that he had kicked out of Berry Punch’s place, as well as once in the eyes of a certain sea green pegasus who had been drummed out of the academy.  It pained his heart to see it in Featherweight’s innocent eyes.

“Dad?” Featherweight’s eyes widened, the fear creeping forth in his eyes, overtaking all other emotion.  Snowflake knew that he had to say something.  He needed to be a dad.

“What… er… what’s going on here, Featherweight?” he asked, his voice rising in pitch as if he’d just been bucked in the balls by Big McIntosh.

Featherweight took a couple of deep breaths, puffed out his chest in pride, and in some awkward combination of assertive and shy announced loudly “I’m trying to train to be more like you, sir!”  He even gave a salute.

A myriad of emotions struck Snowflake like a sonic rainboom to the face.  At the forefront was pride.  My son wants to be like his old stallion.  I really am setting a good example after all.  This was quickly drowned out by concern and shame.  Wait... my son thinks that I… do drugs?

“Y-yeah?” Snowflake squeaked.  It was all that he could force out of his petrified larynx without sounding like a complete imbecile.  He managed a weak smile, although he had the feeling that if he looked in a mirror at that moment he’d see Jack Nickelcolt from “The Whinnying” leering back at him.

“Yeah!” Featherweight cheerfully echoed.  “I… I… gotta confess that I looked for where you hide your stash before I went and bought my own, though.  But I understand why you hide it.  It costs a whole lotta bits.  I had to rilly save up before I could buy some.  I’m sorry for lookin’ through your stuff without askin’ first, but I was afraid you’d say that I’m not big enough yet.”

An involuntary spasm rocked Snowflake at the word “big.”

“But that’s part of the point, isn’t it?  For me to get bigger?  Like you, dad?”

Snowflake knew that he needed to put a stop to this.  It was time to pony up and be a dad.

“No,” He said, quietly, shaking his head.  Ok, so it wasn’t Aristrotle, but it was a start.

“I knew you’d understa—wait, what?” Featherweight started, his eyes wide.

Snowflake finally found his voice.  “What… in the wide world of Equestria made you think that that—“ he pointed at the container of supplement.  “—is something that I use?”

It hurt to see his son afraid of him.  Snowflake knew that he could be intimidating.  Hay, it was a job requirement in a lot of situations.  Sometimes his job even forced him to use physical force.  He knew that his body was as much a weapon as a knife or a club due to his training, and he had sworn a personal oath to never raise a hoof to anypony out of anger.  He reached out a hoof to Featherweight, hoping that his son would recognize the invitation for what it was.

Featherweight jumped forward and embraced his father as he burst into tears.

“I don’t understand,” he wailed.  “Diamond Tiara said…” The colt’s words became a blubbering nonsensical mess as he buried his head in Snowflake’s broad chest.

Diamond Tiara.  One would have to live under a rock to have not heard of the local bully.  Snowflake shook his head as he considered the old lie that sticks and stones could break his bones, but words could never hurt anypony.  Coming from a bully, words were often sharper than a serpent’s tooth, and just as poisonous.  He needed to suck out the poison while there was still time.

“What did Mr. Rich’s daughter say, exactly?” He asked, calmly.  There was no sense in letting his anger show through if he could help it.  Needless to say, beneath his intimidating exterior, there was a geyser of roiling, undulating rage.  He silently thanked Aloe and Lotus Blossom’s weekly spa therapy for helping him control it.

“Well,” Featherweight began, snuffling a bit, “she and Silver Spoon were teasing me and calling me a skinny little runt.  They said that even Pipsqueak’s bigger than I am.  So I told them that in a few years I was gonna grow up to be big and strong just like you.”

Snowflake nodded.  “Go on,” he coaxed.

“So the next thing Diamond Tiara says is that the only reason you’re big and strong is because you use supple-mints.  Then Silver Spoon made fun of your wings.”

Snowflake blushed a bit, in spite of himself.  His wings and ears were a bit of a sore spot for him, both being tinier than those the average pegasus sported.

“I told Silver Spoon that it’s not the size of your wings that count, it’s what you do with ‘em,” Featherweight said proudly.   “I was about to mention that you’re gonna be a Wonderbolt, but she came back and said that all stallions with small wings say that, and they usually buy big carts as overcompensation.”

Snowflake thought about the P-series cart that he owned, and said nothing.  Mere coincidence, he thought, although he flattened his ears to his head as he considered the extravagant size of the cart compared to what he really used it for.  So sue me for trying to keep up with the Joneses, he considered, trying to justify the whole scenario.  It’s a family cart.  It’s…

Feathers, how was it possible that a spoiled little rich filly was able to make him question his stallionhood?

“Diamond Tiara said that there’s no way in Equestria that you could be as strong as you are without using something to get yourself bulked up.  She said that you probably use steroids, but I know you’d never use drugs, dad.  You’re a good pony.”

Snowflake had to hold back the liquid pride he was feeling for his son at that moment.  The moment was short lived.

“But this stuff’s not drugs.  This is a legal dietary supplement.  The dude at the nutrition store said so.”

And like a pane of glass struck by a simple minded colt with a sledgehammer, it shattered.

“How long have you been drinking this…” Snowflake wanted to say something derogatory, like “swill,” or even worse, but he held his tongue and allowed his question to trail off.  He waved a hoof at the offensive substance.

“I just bought it today,” Featherweight admitted.  “I wasn’t able to afford it before.”

Snowflake breathed a sigh of relief, and hugged his son a bit harder.  Featherweight began to squirm a bit as his father’s crushing grip gradually grew unbearable.

“Dad… too tight,” he gasped.

“Sorry,” the white Pegasus said, blushing.  “So you’re trying to add a bit of muscle to your frame, eh?” he continued, an ominous calm emanating from his stern visage.

“The radio says this stuff helps weaklings like me,” Featherweight insisted, although the iron façade he had been putting forth earlier when defending the product had a definite chink in its armor.

“Would you believe me if I said that all of this,” Snowflake waved a hoof at his spectacular frame as he spoke “was the result of hard work and training?”

“I did before,” Featherweight said, hanging his head, “but Diamond Tiara said that there’s no way that a pegasus could look like you.  An earth pony, maybe, but pegasi have to be dainty and delicate to fly.”  The brown maned colt made the word “dainty” sound like a four letter word.

“Diamond Tiara may be the smartest filly in your class,” Snowflake said, although in his mind, he felt he was being overly generous. “However, she’s still just a filly, and doesn’t know everything about pegasi.  I’ve never taken a spoonful of this stuff in my life.  Or steroids, for that matter,” he declared, making sure that he stressed that fact.

Featherweight hung his head.  “I thought this was the stuff you drink in the morning,” he mumbled.

“My protein shake?”  Snowflake asked, stifling a chuckle.  “It’s mostly ground up nuts, raw eggs, oats, yogurt, celery, soy, and a bit of cocoa for flavor.”

Featherweight made a sour face.  “Raw eggs? Rilly?”

Snowflake shrugged.

“Miss Cheerilee gave me a book that said that eggs are better for you if they’re cooked, ‘cause if they’re raw you can get vanilla salmon,” Featherweight quoted.

“Vanilla salmon?” Snowflake wondered out loud.

“It was in the book,” Featherweight assured him.

“Well, maybe I’ll have to take a look at that book and see for myself,” Snowflake said, crossing his forelegs across his chest.  “I might have to modify my morning routine.”  He glanced at Featherweight, only to find his son looking downcast.

“Dad… are you mad at me?” he asked, looking up with eyes the size of dinner plates.

“Merciful Celestia, of course not,” the white stallion retorted.  “Fillies can be cruel, as the saying goes, and it’s not like we’ve ever really had this kind of talk before.  I’m just glad that I came home when I did.”

“But if the powder’s so bad for you, why do they sell it?”

Snowflake grunted.  “It probably contains the stuff that it says it does, but seriously, would you rather drink some powder that you don’t really know what went into it, or a shake like mine, which might not taste as good but I can name every single ingredient and vouch for them?”

“I guess that makes sense.”  Featherweight only looked partially convinced.

“I think I have an idea,” Snowflake began.  “How about if we start a routine together, just you and me?  I’ll show you what it really takes to get a body like mine?  I won’t lie to you, though, son... it’s gonna be a lot of work.”

“I could really get as pumped as you?” Featherweight asked with a hopeful expression that only springs from the face of the young.

“You betcha,” Snowflake said.  “Hold that thought.”  The beefy pegasus sauntered out of the kitchen and up the stairs.  After a few minutes, he came back down with a small leather bound book.  He opened the book to a section toward the beginning.  Featherweight’s eyes lit up as he realized that it was full of photographs.

“Recognize this handsome dust devil?” Snowflake asked, pointing a hoof at a pair of colts giving each other a high hoof.

“The one on the right looks like Apple Bloom’s brother,” Featherweight replied, scrutinizing the old black and white image.  “The other one kinda looks like me, except…” he spotted the cutie mark on the colt in the picture, and the answer dawned on him.  “Daddy?”

“I know you’ve been getting some flak for being a bit thin at your age, but that’s me when I was probably a year older than you are now.  As you can see, I already had my cutie mark, so I’d already started working on my daily weightlifting regimen, but it took a while for me to go from that to this.  It’s gonna take some major dedication on your part.  I mean Wonderbolt style dedication.”

“You can count on me, dad!” Featherweight said, saluting again.

“You’re still gonna have to put up with Diamond Tiara… and there will be plenty of others who try to say the same thing, but if you work hard, eat healthy, and don’t take shortcuts like that,” Snowflake pointed derisively at the container of supplement. “You’ll be able to keep your head held high, because you’ll know you’re doing it the right way.”

“I guess,” Featherweight nodded.

“Trust me,” Snowflake said with a sly smirk.  “Say, how about we go over to Sugar Cube Corner and get ourselves some totally unhealthy milkshakes?  I don’t know about you, but I could really use one after the day I had.”

“You had a bad day?” Featherweight asked as he climbed onto his father’s back.

“Actually, it was a really good day.  It was almost kind of fun.  Tiring, but fun.  I was hoping to celebrate a little bit.  If you don’t mind your old sire going on and on about the Wonderbolts that is,” Snowflake said as they left the cloud house and prepared to soar down to Ponyville below.  He knew that Featherweight would be able to fly longer distances on his own soon, and ponyback rides would be a thing of the past.

“Guess who my lead pony was today?” he continued, hoping his eyes didn’t betray him.

“I dunno… Cloudchaser?” Featherweight asked, rather ambivalent.

“She usually is, but today I was paired up with Rainbow Dash,” Snowflake beamed.  He thought for a second, and hurriedly added “You know who Rainbow Dash is, right?”

“She’s the yellow one with the pink mane, right?”

Snowflake screeched to a halt, which wasn’t easy for him to do in mid-air.

Featherweight was rolling on his back laughing.

“I’m kidding, dad, lighten up.  Of course I know who Rainbow Dash is.  Everypony knows who Rainbow Dash is.”

Snowflake shook his head, trying to keep an embarrassed smile from flashing across his muzzle.

“So what was it like having an Element of Harmony as your lead pony?”

“Well, Snowflake began again, as they circled toward their destination. “When I found out that Cloudchaser wasn’t going to be my lead today, I wasn’t sure who I was going to be paired up with until Rainbow Dash trotted up to me and said ‘Looks like it’s you and me today, Snowflake.  Ready to be awesome?’”

“What did you say?  What did you say?” Featherweight was practically jumping up and down as they landed.  They cantered into Sugar cube corner and waved to Mr. Cake as they entered.

“I admit I was a bit star struck, so I said the only thing that came to my mind…” the burly pegasus answered.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Father and son laughed as the autumn leaves swirled outside of Sugar cube corner.  It was almost poetic.

~ Fin ~