Berry Punch Breaks Bottles

by TheExhaustedBrony

Rating: teen
Tags: My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Berry Punch, Original Character, Comedy, Random, Slice of Life
Length: 2637

Berry Punch, while in a drunken stupor, realizes just how pretty broken glass shards are.

Rated [Teen] for alcohol use (I do not condone excessive consumption of alcohol)

Some ponies are ashamed of their alcohol habit, but Berry Punch flaunts hers with pride. A renowned connoisseur of the devil's brew, she finds herself with a lot of extra bottles around. With the (accidental) help of her friend Cinnamon Swirl, she finds a better use for all that glass while tapping into her artistic side.

A collaborative effort with Garbo802. Check out his work because he's a great writer.

Don't forget to rate!

Published 2014-02-10 02:30:07 UTC
Last updated 2014-02-10 02:30:07 UTC

Broken Beauty

"Remember, noshing good, no maddur how funny it ish, lashts forever..."

Cinnamon Swirl placed her glass on the table and her hoof on her face, "Sweet Celestia, Berry, I told you to pace yourself."

"You're jusht my friend, you don't tell me what to do... you don't mean nothing!" Berry slammed her champagne glass on the table, and its contents splashed all over the counter.

Cinnamon Swirl let out a big exasperated sigh, "Berry, why don't I take you home? You must be tired."

The drunken mare began flailing her head around like a ragdoll, "Nnnnaaaaaaawwwww, guuuurrlll! It'sh aaalll goooood... *hic!*" The sickening sound of Berry's face slamming against the table echoed throughout the room. Snores could be heard.

“Come on Berry, don’t fall asleep. You know what happens when you fall asleep.”

“Shleep barfing?”

“You better not!”

Cinnamon Swirl got up from her seat and walked over to her companion, putting her foreleg around her, “Come on, lets get you home.”

“Another night of fun, eh?” The barkeep called out just as Cinnamon Swirl and Berry Punch were about to leave.

“Yea, you know how it is. I’ll return with the money for the drinks after I drop this one off.”

The barkeep shook his head, “Nah, you’re good. You’ve always come back and paid what you owed. You’ve earned a freebie, on the house.”

“Thanks, have a good night.” Cinnamon Swirl pressed her forehead against the door and pushed it open, her friend in tow.

For Cinnamon Swirl, this was just a typical girls night out. They'd go to the bar, talk, eat, and drink. Berry would do too much of that latter, and the night would end with Cinnamon Swirl carrying her drunk friend home. Taking into account her own drunkness and the dead weight she had to pull, the trip to her friend’s place could take anything from fifteen minutes to an hour. Or at least it seemed that way. Time was a fickle thing for the drunk.

Lanterns guided her way as she carried on through the empty streets. Most of the houses had their lights out, but here and there she would pass an exception. From them she could hear the sounds of ponies having a party, probably enjoying some drinks and good company, having a good time.

“Why can’t it just go that way for me?”

No one answered, certainly not the pony beside her. It was a good sign that Berry was, for the most part, on her own four hooves, though she required a bit of help. Some nights, Cinnamon had to carry her on her back, which wouldn’t be such a big problem if Berry was a bit lighter. It wasn’t that she was fat - her health was excellent despite the copious alcohol she consumed - but she was certainly on the larger side.

"Berry, we're here."

"Here?"

Cinnamon Swirl shook her head, "Your house. Did you remember to lock the door?"

"I did? I'm sherrtain *hic!* that I put the keys in my shaddul bag." Berry began feeling her backside for her non-existent saddle bag, "Whar ish it? Do you know where it ish, Shinnamun Shwurl?"

"No, I don't. You probably left it inside, now come on, let’s get you to bed." Cinnamon Swirl placed her hoof on the wooden door and pushed it open, "Berry, you forgot to lock the door again."

The two entered the house and were greeted by the familiar decor of empty bottles adorning every surface. They sat on the floor, on the bookshelves, on the furniture, on every table, and even in the flower pots. To anyone who happened to wander in, it would be obvious that Berry drank a lot. But no one ever had, nor had they noticed or cared. To her credit, Berry Punch did a good job of keeping to herself.

"Mommy, I dun feel sho gud..." Berry Punch began to groan.

"Oh no... no no no no nononononono!" Cinnamon Swirl tried to jump out of the way, but it was too late. No night would be complete without involuntary vomiting, and this time, she was unable to completely avoid the bile that now coated her right foreleg,

"Damnit, Berry!"

"Whaah? You'll be fine." Berry Punch wiped the rancid liquid from her mouth.

Cinnamon Swirl flared her nostrils as she took a sharp, deep breath to contain her anger. "I'll come back tomorrow to clean that up, just go lay down on the couch and get some rest." Cinnamon Swirl stopped supporting Berry's weight. Without the helping hoof, the drunken mare began tumbling towards the couch. Somehow managing to land on it, without knocking over too many of the bottles. One, however, toppled from the couch and onto the floor, breaking into a thousand tiny pieces.

Cinnamon sighed as she watched the pathetic display. She couldn’t tell what was sadder: her friend’s current state or the fact that she’d become accustomed to it. "Good night Berry." Cinnamon Swirl said as she closed the door.

When the door was closed, Berry reached under the couch and pulled out a bottle of Pinot Noir and promptly uncorked it.

"AND NO MORE DRINKING!" Cinnamon Swirl’s voice could be heard loud and clear through the walls of the building. Berry Punch groaned and put the cork back in the bottle. She didn't really feel like drinking anyway.

As an alcohol enthusiast, which she preferred to be known by, she had the goal of trying every alcoholic beverage in Equestria. According to the Alcohol Lovers of Equestria, an organization dedicated to those like her, Berry Punch was tied at fifth all-time, alongside two ponies, a griffon, and a dragon.

There weren’t that many drinks left to be had at this point in her life. You couldn’t just mix up any drink willy-nilly, as every drink had to be certified by the A.L.E. There was, however, on drink she hadn’t tried. It was a drink so elusive and legendary, ponies that even attempted at learning its secret have gone missing. This drink is known as the Hard Fruit Dream.

The Hard Fruit Dream is a special drink that cannot be put into any category of beverages. It is so unique, that it stands alone as one of the top ten drinks to have before you die. The few that have been able to taste it describe it as a mix between a vintage Merlot and an expensive champagne with some sort of fruit juice. Of course, words aren't enough to describe it and the only way to truly do so is to find out for yourself. Unfortunately, a bottle is only opened after it has aged one hundred years. The next opening will take place in two weeks and the cerise mare couldn’t stop thinking about it.

"Hee hee..." She smiled, allowing a string of saliva to seep through her teeth and down her face. Just thinking about the drink and everything about it made her body tremble and all the senses in her mouth go into overdrive.

She looked at the bottle in her hoof and realized it wasn't the radiant crystal bottle of Hard Fruit Dream. Disappointedly, she put the bottle back where she’d found it. She turned her head to look around the room and it’s decoration of bottles. She knew Cinnamon would never understand. The bottles were art and a representation of everything she’d achieved. They made her home beautiful, and if her friend would bother to take more than just a few sips when they went out, she’d see it too.

The bottles had been like that for a long time. Most of them were covered in dust, and now that she thought of it, her art was becoming boring. She wasn’t going to have any of that. But how to improve it?

While deep in thought, her eye caught sight of the bottle she’d knocked over. The pieces sat in an organized chaos, with sharp edges that were dangerous to the touch. The way the sparkling glass shards reflected what little light was in the room remind her of champagne bubbles. It was beautiful.

"I wonder..." The intoxicated mare picked up the bottle she’d put down moments ago.

"That'll work." She gently lifted the large green glass bottle off of its resting place and held it up to her face turning it and examining the foggy exterior.

“This was a good one,” Berry Punch smiled as she recalled the familiar taste of Chardonnay. Without a second thought, she raised the bottle in her hoof high above her head and threw it down to the floor at a speed that would make a Wonderbolt cower in fear.

The sound of shattering glass sent shivers of adrenaline down Berry’s spine. As she proudly gleamed over the countless tiny pieces of broken glass, she noticed how much space was taken up by one bottle and wondered just how many bottles it would take to completely cover the floor.

One after another, Berry Punch threw her empty bottles onto the floor. Some of them were even vintage and despite having their contents missing, some collectors would have paid a fortune for the label. She didn’t care. To her, they were suppressed beauty that needed to be broken free of its prison. This was true art

Time went by and soon the glass on the ground outnumbered the intact bottles in the room. And then there were no bottles. As the sun shined through the window, Berry laid herself on the couch, resting her head on the arm and stared at the mosaic she had created on the floor.

“Beautiful…” Berry Punch wanted to admire her work forever but felt her eyelids grow heavier and heavier until they eventually closed.

Cinnamon Swirl knocked on the door, “Berry Punch, you awake?”

Hearing no response, she shrugged and safely assumed that her friend was still passed out from a heavy night of drinking.

Cinnamon Swirl put her hoof up to the door to find that it was still unlocked and sighed in disbelief, “It’s like I’m raising a child all over again.”

As the door swung open, a crunching sound could be heard.

“Of course she’d make a mess,” Cinnamon Swirl stepped into the house, not knowing the extent of the mess her friend had made. It became all too clear, however, when she felt a sharp pain run up her hoof as if she’d stepped on a nail. She might as well of, for when she picked her hoof up and looked at it, there was a shard of glass sticking out of it. She bit her lip as she watched a drop of blood drip out and onto the floor.

She wasn’t so concerned about herself as she was Berry Punch. What if she’d cut herself, or worse? She squeezed her eyes shut and took a deep breath, clamping her teeth down on the shard in her hoof. She pulled and spit the glass onto the floor, her hoof now spilling a bit more blood than she’d like. Cinnamon Swirl strained her horn, using the one first aid spell she could remember from magic school.

A few moments later, the gash was closed, though that didn’t do much of any good for the pain. Clearing an open spot with her magic, she tried to step on it, and though she couldn’t put all of her weight on her hoof, it could carry her long enough to get some proper medical attention. She repeated the same process for each step, moving the glass aside and stepping in the area left behind. Slowly but surely, she made her way to the couch where Berry Punch lay asleep.

Unceremoniously, Cinnamon shook the mare awake. After stepping through a field of broken glass, she didn’t have much sympathy for her friend, no matter how much of a hangover she probably had. As expected, Berry Punch woke up, immediately showing the signs of a long night of drinking. She looked up and saw Cinnamon staring down at her.

“Hey, long time no see!”

“Berry, why in the name of Celestia is all of this broken glass all over the floor?”

Berry Punch squinted up at her. “Sheesh, give me a second before you start asking me the hard questions. And it’s nice to see you too, by the way.”

“I’m not sure sure I’m finding it nice to see you, at least not like this. You spend all day drinking and now you’ve destroyed the booze you spent all of your money on. Frankly, it’s a wonder you’re not homeless right now!”

Berry Punch put her hooves over her ears, “Ow! Could ya keep it down? My head hurts.”

“So does mine.” Cinnamon Swirl groaned, “I need you to think, for once, and tell me what the hay you were doing last night? I thought I told you no more drinking once I left.”

“Okay, mom, sheesh.” The hungover mare closed her eyes and began trying to recall the events of last night.

After about a minute of silence, the distinct sound of snoring could be heard from the couch.

“Good heavens, Berry,” Cinnamon Swirl rolled her eyes, “Wake up!”

Berry Punch instantly awoke, “I wasn’t sleeping!” She blurted.

“You know what? I really don’t care anymore.” Cinnamon Swirl used her magic to retrieve a dust broom and pan from the kitchen. Since she’s had to take care of all of Berry Punch’s messes, she was familiar with the layout of the house and where it’s cleaning supplies were. She dropped the two items beside Berry, “Lets just get this place cleaned up.”

“You do that and I’ll just sleep off my hangover, okay?”

Cinnamon Swirl glared at her friend. “Now!”

“Ugh, fine.” Berry Punch grabbed the pan and broom and began gathering the shards of glass that lay on the floor in front of her.

As the two continued to clean up the mess, Berry’s head became more and more clear and when her headache was finally gone, she realized how pretty the glass looked as it was being swept into the dust pan. The razor-sharp edges glinted in the sunlight, flaunting a danger that was almost as alluring and their beauty.

“Berry? What’s up?” Cinnamon Swirl asked, noticing her friend staring stupidly at the floor.

“I don’t remember what I was thinking last night, but I definitely know what I was doing.”

“So do I. You made a really big mess for me to clean up, just like you always do.”

“Mess? I was thinking more like art.”

Cinnamon looked up in disbelief. “Art? How in the world could you call this art? It’s a catastrophe, that’s what it is!”

“You could really stand to loosen up your saddlebags every once in a while, you know that? All you ever do is nag nag nag.”

“Oh please,” she scoffed, “You’d probably be a homeless deadbeat if it wasn’t for all my … for all my …”

“Nagging?”

Cinnamon Swirl looked like she was about to explode. “You know what? You can take care of your own mess this time! I’m leaving!”

True to her word, the mare stomped out, too angry to care about the pain it caused her injured hoof. Berry Punch looked on gleefully.

“Don’t let the door hit your plot on the way out.”

The door slammed. Now the artist was once again alone with her canvas of hardwood. She scanned the room, dismayed to see that most of the glass was already gone. But then she caught sight of something she’d missed. There was one last bottle sitting on floor. Berry smiled.

“Showtime.”

Author's Note

Remember to give Garbo some love since he helped me write this story as well as the description.