Six Idiots

     Spade looked to the front of the bar. "That sounds intense."

     Ethelind giggled.

     Spade looked over to the Germane pony. "The hell are you laughing..." She saw an empty cider mug in front of Ethelind. "You just drink that?"

     Ethelind smiled and nodded.

"What the fuck is going through your mind, chica?"

     Ethelind shrugged, still giggling like a madpony. She was staring now, her cheeks getting more and more pink as the alcohol began to take more effect on her low alcohol tolerated body.

     Spade blinked. "What the actual fuck is wrong with you?"

     Ethelind stopped giggling suddenly, but her gaze was unbroken. Her cheeks were now hot pink.

"Ethelind, goddammit, stop staring. You're weirding me out."

     Ethelind blinked and shook her head. She smiled again and scotted closer to Spade. "Hey," she said in a hushed tone. "Can I tell you something?"

     Spade leaned away from Ethelind. "Uhhh, sure?"

     Ethelind's eyes peered right into Spade's. The two mares' eyes looked back at each other, Spade's more confused and Ethelind's just plain drunk.

      Ethelind hiccupped and leaned back. "There's this study I wanted to conduct with somepony, and this is the perfect opportunity. Will you help out?"

      Spade shrugged. "Just don't get so damn close to me. Fuckin' weird."

      Ethelind cleared her throat. "Okay, i'm gonna ask you a series of thirty-six questions, and after that we have to stare into each others' eyes for four uninterrupted minutes. Okay?"

"Uh, no. I think I know what this study is. This is a crush tr-" Spade's pupils dilated to the size of pinpricks. She turned to Ethelind. "What the fuck. What the actual fuck. Oh hell no. Hell, to the fucking no. Nope, fuck this. I'd rather go hang out with egomaniac and his soon to be DJ lover than deal with this shit. Fuck it." She stood up and trotted to the bar. She ordered ten mugs of beer and ten of vodka from Chuck. It was all on the house. Her eyes dark, she consumed herself in the alcohol.

      Meanwhile, Ethelind was passed out in booth.

      Hurricane was still talking to Vinyl, trying to get her in bed.

      Blaze was on the ground with a bloody nose and a concussion.

      Sarcasm was headed back to the booth unscathed.

      And Trock was sitting in the park. With nopony. Alone. Sad. In the dark.

      Sarcasm had made it back ro the booth, wondering why Spade was at the bar and Ethelind was out cold. "This must've gone to shit." He sat down and ran his hoof through his mane. "Masochist's talking to DJ chick, Asshole's getting really drunk, and Smart-ass is out cold. Holy fuck I missed the real fun. Dammit."

      Ethelind stirred. "Spade come back... I didn't..." she started to snore.

      By then, Sarcasm was as confused as a newborn foal with a Rubix Cube.