A Clockwork Apple

“What’ll it be then, eh?”

We were sitting on our flanks in the Totepferde absinthe bar, wondering to ourselves what we should mach’ tonight.

We were all mares, of course, as mares are the paragon of equine civilization. There was Fallfeather, the rather langsam one, Shadowflare, and Harmony, who was rather more delicate, but more keen to prove her sharpness to make up for it.

Fallfeather was a crippled Pegasus, so had the muscle of three ponies, but had the intelligence of a quarter. Shadowflare, Harmony, and I were all unicorns, which of course made us far superior to any other pony in the area.

My mane back then was kept in bloodboiling shape, low spikes, dark purple, with stripes of palest pink. My coat I had dyed nearly the same purple, but a hint lighter. The others did nothing noteworthy with their physical appearance, so I shall not note them.

We wore what was then the height of fashion, which was obviously nothing at all. We had nothing to hide from others, even though we sat in the same position as the fabled human of old, with our underbellies facing toward the sky. The server colts would lauf themselves over to our table once in a while, telling us to better cover up our better parts. A schlag to the snout taught them better than to filly with us. I liked to have my body exposed.

A sip of absinthe brought no fresh ideas. I blew the a soft spike of mane out of my glazzies. Then I said, “Perhaps we just wait for another chance for some fillyin’, what think you all?” For we spoke in a curious dialect then.

The others nodded, no better ideas with them.

It was another few minutes before a couple of colts wandered in, one wearing a greenish mane, the other wearing headphones, presumably for that awful dubtrot music that I had never become accustomed to.

We waved them over to our platz. They eagerly trotted over, seeing bodies that may be ready for some of the old in-out later, not to mention two for each of them. We paid for their drinks, and mentioned to them, with a few of the single-glazzy-blinks to convey our message, “We’ve been here the whole time, haven’t we, colts? We won’t be goin anywhere this fine night, right?”

They were rather schnell for colts, and caught on, single-glazzy-blinking us back. As soon as they both understood, we all stood up, and laufed ourselves out of the bar, into the Canterlot street. It was a bit frosty out, but we were fine, being four premium mares. Trotting around, it took us not long to locate a lone mare with a stack of disks.

“Pardon me, Frau, may I perchance take a schau at your musiks there? With all of the newer musics going around, not many times do I locate one who carries with her disks of musik.”

The mare smiled, and lent over the disks. “Certainly. But please, be quite careful with them. Not many can come about such antiques anymore.”

I casually flipped through them, picking out the ones I wanted to nimm for myself. I glanced at the ones I had chosen for wreckage. “Look at this trash!” I lent it to Shadowflare for a schau. She clicked her tongue as I desired, and shook her head.

“Tis a shame, that one with such bloodboiling taste in music should also like this mull. And that as well, look at this one, Countermelody! It’s got one of those evil stickers on it!”

“Aye.” I said. “This one here is no lover of the musiks, but a fiendish little thing that likes to bathe in the sounds of others in pain.”

“No! That’s simply not true!” Shouted the mare, indignant, oblivious to the fillying we were doing.

I cracked my neck, the others following my lead. “I say.” I took a step forward, “We teach this frowsy little mare here what happens when one disgraces the higher musiks.” Then we begun, beginning with a few schlags to the snout, till she dropped her whole body to the ground, wrapping her trotters around her glazzies.

The others took to her body, horning her well between the legs till she moaned in less pleasure than pain, cracking her ribs well enough, and shearing away her mane. I broke the disks that I did not like, and sent the others back to my abode with a quick transfer spell.

When I decided that it was enough, I said so. “Alright, my mares, it’s time to go back.” We turned and laufed ourselves back to the Totepferde absinthe bar, leaving the older mare to her own scheisse.

When we got back, we were pleased to see the two colts still sitting where we had set them before. We sat ourselves back next to them, I gave them both an invisible stroke to the soft-rod with a quick spell, to keep them quiet and contented.

We smiled at them, and spoke to them well. “We didn’t leave, now did we?” We spoke to them.

They kindly reciprocated, repeating what we had said. “Sure, you sharp fillies never left the table the whole time we were here!”

It was a while before the Polizists decided to show their hasslich snouts around the bar. They poked their way in, asking all sorts of annoying questions. “We found a victim of a rape and heavy beating nearby. She claims she was assaulted by four mares.”

The colts shook their soft little heads. “No way bros, they’ve been sitting here all evening. It couldn’t have been them.”

The Polizists left after a few blicks between them, anxious to find some other four mares without witnesses to defend their cases.

It was getting late, and my lower body was eager for some of my expert attentions. “Same time, on the morrow?”

We all agreed to meet in the bar again tomorrow, and laufed on our own separate ways. I returned to my house on the edge of the city, greeted my parents, and trotted up the stairs to my room for some bloodboiling time with Countermelody herself. Locking the door, I turned up one of the disks I had nimmed from the mare we had played with earlier. It was a rock band, from hundreds of years ago, when that sort of music was as popular as it gets.

The music lulled myself nearly to sleep, my right trotter playfully stroking my better parts. The family knew better than to interrupt the time Countermelody spent with Countermelody, perhaps more from the scars than the memory.

I thought about how much of a schade it was that I hadn’t taken the time earlier to rub bodies with the mare we had fillied with. I casually rubbed my horn while thinking about it.

Dreams took me then, and I wondered about what I was to mach’ tomorrow. There was nothing more to come to my mind but sleep at that time.