An Odyssey

Naturally, and without further ado, Octavia Philarmonica offered her help to the young musician, whom she had not once observed at practice, and who commanded the piano so skilfully, meaning, of course, the great piano, of a black variety, much like the pianos that were used by jazz bands, once profitable and numerous, now mere reflections of themselves, more or less because of the new politics in the music industry which grew so flagrant and so unheeding to young talents, such as young Frederic Horseshopin, to whom Octavia Philarmonica offered her help, naturally, and without further ado.

Subsequently, the mare in question suggested that the beaten-up pianist follow her to a warm establishment, for the night was growing cold, and it was only fair to have a cup of coffee at such a cold night, when it was so cold, because of the cold weather looming in, and, since it was cold, why wouldn’t he follow her to such a perfect coffee-serving establishment?

Aye, the pianist agreed - albeit rather drunkenly, but we must forgive him, fair gents, for such a fault in behaviour, for he was sure tipsy, as some might say, after so copiously drinking away the money he had received from the fair conductor, or, rather, if we take Octavia Philarmonica’s viewpoint, an unfair conductor, who didn’t even pay heed to her demands, but surely she would follow another lead on him, as per the judicial procedure, which…

The pair opened the door to the 24-hour coffee-serving establishment, known in the wider circles as a coffee shop, one of the many scattered all over Canterlot, the fair city, the capital of our glorious country, and the main political centre of our state, fair for everypony, a state that promotes constant development, industrialisation, and modernisation as its main priorities, which were given in an address by our esteemed prime minister of HRH Government, long may She reign.

Inside, they were greeted by an array of smell and flavour, coming from such various blends as could only come from a well-maintained coffee machine manned by a rather pretty barista mare, with a wide, charming smile, who definitely caught the eye both of our guests, and bade them to proceed to the table in the middle, which was a table both clean and neat, a small round table meant for two, usually couples, but of course our guests were merely travelling companions, temporary travelling companions even, and by no means a couple, in no manner.

In the corner they sat, at the small round table meant for two, not necessarily a couple, but, alas, the discussion could not sparkle, as it quite often does in such establishments, in such a situation, and there was, definitely, so much to discuss, such as Frederic’s devotion to alcohol, his break-up with his friends that morning, or, should we say, the previous morning, for a new day was already dawning on Equestria, the land of the free, or, perchance, Octavia’s help with the advertisement, her observations regarding Frederic’s lack of skill in handling money, or maybe even her encounter with the famous orator and senator, the hero of our country - and a hero that our country deserves! - none other than the Barbarian, the esteemed gent.

After a small uneasy pause that our non-couple had due to the inebriation of the gentlecolt and complete lack of initiative by the mare, who was already quite weary, in addition to being emotionally spent after her verbal fight with the esteemed Barbarian, speaker of truths, and after saving Frederic Horseshopin from a very real, physical fight… Up to the table came the barista mare, carrying a mug of coffee meant for Frederic Horseshopin, for Octavia Philarmonica had refused a mug of her own, and quite insisted on paying for Frederic’s mug too, and she adhered by the principle of “a bit saved is a bit earned” so Frederic took up his mug and took a tiny sip, presumably complimentary, for he wasn’t thirsty at all, he’d had enough drink already in him, most of it from the night, of course, and not the day-drinking with the friends, with whom he had had a terrible breakup in his mind even in the morning.

Up to their table, struggling with keeping himself aligned, staggered a bearded stallion, gruff in complexion and rather pale, given his silvery coat which was crying with grime, and so up to their table he staggered, and asked the gentlecolt in question, who was undoubtedly the very same gentlecolt whom we have already discussed, namely Frederic Horseshopin, and so he asked the gentlecolt, that is, Frederic Horseshopin, whether he - quite unexpectedly he asked that, if we may remark! - what his name was, which, if we remark, is one of the ways to have trouble, and Frederic Horseshopin didn’t want to have any more trouble than he’d already had that day, or, rather, the previous day, for the morning was swiftly approaching our beautiful, glorious capital.

My name is Horseshopin, Mr Frederic Horseshopin said, and why, Mr Horseshopin asked, politely, as only Frederic Horseshopin could ask, why are you, my fair friend, but of course he wasn’t quite a friend, more like an accidental acquaintance, and not even an acquaintance, considering that Mr Frederic didn’t know his name, but he (Mr Frederic Horseshopin) didn’t ask, so he (Mr Horseshopin) asked why are you asking.

The gentlecolt, the bearded stallion in question, gruff in complexion and rather pale, given his silvery coat which was crying with grime, who had staggered to their - that is, the non-couple’s, Frederic Horseshopin’s and Octavia Philarmonica’s - table, just as dawn was colouring the sky of our glorious land, asked whether Frederic Horseshopin, that is to say, Horseshopin, Mr Horseshopin even, for he did not know Frederic’s first name, which was Frederic, as opposed to his surname, which was Horsehsopin, he asked whether Horseshopin - for it was he whom he asked - whether he (Horseshopin) knew old Fabius Horseshopin, who - but the bearded stallion in question with the pale and gruff complexion could not know that - was Frederic’s father, now deceased, much to the lament of the young pianist (Frederic Horseshopin).

Wary of the boozers, of course, remembering the heavy hit that he’d had from the boozer back in the pub, or, rather, outside the pub, yes, the very same hit that was making it so hard to think now, even harder because he was full of liquids, alcoholic in nature, so wary of his answer, or, rather, his reply, he, that is, Frederic Horseshopin, or just Horseshopin as this boozer, not the boozer who’d hit him, but this one that had just came up to them, to the non-couple, in the coffee shop, so he (Frederic Horseshopin) said that yes, he was familiar with Fabius Horseshopin.

So the boozer slammed his hoof against the table, scaring very much the pretty barista mare, as well as Octavia Philarmonica, the fair cellist, by this gesture, and said that Fabius was a damn old good stallion, yes he was, and that he was known not just for his familiarity with booze (of which fact Frederic Horseshopin was well aware) but also his prowess in juggling (a lie, according to Frederic Horseshopin who knew all that well that his father could not juggle for the love of Celestia, not that he himself loved Celestia all that much and…)

“A curious coincidence,” cellist Octavia called colloquially, calmly collaborating with the prodigious pianist. “Such a coincidence, the names, I mean.”

“He could juggle four barrels of ale, blast me as I stand!” the sitting stallion supposed, saturating his slightly alcoholic sermon. “Old good Fabius Horshopin, yes, he could!”

Frederic Horshopin (let’s use the name given to the fair gent by the gentle boozer) was at loss for words, or, rather, he would be, if he were in any decent condition, in which he was not, being inebriated and having been him square in the face, what with the maybe possible concussion that may or may not have followed the blow, and even if it hadn’t been for the blow, the alcohol itself, that is the liquids that he was full of, liquids alcoholic in nature, could have contributed, and probably were contributing to such an uneasy state bleibing in which, shall we say, he could not be at loss for words.

“Yeah, and he could juggle a table and the chairs, for the love of Celestia, he could!” continued the bastardly boozer, barricading his blatant lie from the liable lesbian and the posh pianist. Frederic Horseshopin (let’s use his proper name now) wondered in his head about his father, presumably how he could do that and… no, of course, if… basically, if he were in a jolly mood…

No, of course not.

Or?

Frederic Horseshopic, first of his name, a son, a wayward pianist, a fee-getter, a lesbian-talker, looked at the boozer, the presumably friend or presumably acquaintance of his presumably father who could presumably juggle a presumably table and presumably four presumably bottles of presumable ale, which was definitely a refreshing drink, especially considering how much he had experienced today, and why was there only coffee in a coffee shop what he wouldn’t do to go for an ale or just a mug of cold cider right now in the middle of the night was that a trait of alcoholism?, presumably transferred to him by his presumable father, Fabius Horshopin/Horseshopin, who could presumably, presuming by this presumable’s words, presumably presumble, I mean, juggle, four presuchairs, that is, presubarrels, and a presutable at once, presumably.

“Let me tell you,” presumed the presumer, “about Stalliongrad.” The hiccuper hiccuped. “About Stalliongrad, where I and old Fabius was stationed till they sent our regiment to Fillydelphia.” (Here, it should be remarked, duly and without delay, that Frederic Horseshopin was adamant in his opinion that his father had never served in the army, or any regiment of any sort, nor that he could ever juggle anything. Yet, the fair drinker was telling the vast audience that included, among others, Fiddle McGorney, LLB, LLM, JD, MD, O.G.F.T.G.G., Fossho Archibachi, BA, O.H.W.T.L.E.M.I., F.T.M.O.H.W.T.L.E.W.I.T., Gary Oldmarrus, revd Uni Uccopano, Tur Akmintur, MA, Rasco Rasticelli, the cellist General, Arcano Merr, G.B.N.R.G.P.A.T.M.A.A.O.A.V.I.R.A.P.V.E.A.B., Telly Macnoccio, Federico Responespo, Father Godnameithammermann, Sister Amata Goddessdontnameithammergirl, Arra Alki, H.G.M., Hishano Tarkamotto, Herr Mercelbruerrettovacanavacnapatoratoshatopatucinnizimmerdahlbettbedantessmercanottogormolamenhamendramerdramenbutbruttonotsolongheresearcherferryfederalpetersmanoeuvrecommanderandvastmagicianpatronmasterentrepreneurlamentsnotquitepersuasivedrammencorpsmannger, Frau Mercelbruerrettovacanavacnapatoratoshatopatucinnizimmerdahlbettbedantessmercanottogormolamenhamendramerdramenbutbruttonotsolongheresearcherferryfederalpetersmanoeuvrecommanderandvastmagicianpatronmasterentrepreneurlamentsnotquitepersuasivedrammencorpsmannger, old Herr Mercelbruerrettovacanavacnapatoratoshatopatucinnizimmerdahlbettbedantessmercanottogormolamenhamendramerdramenbutbruttonotsolongheresearcherferryfederalpetersmanoeuvrecommanderandvastmagicianpatronmasterentrepreneurlamentsnotquitepersuasivedrammencorpsmannger, his grandson Parry Patty Mercelbruerrettovacanavacnapatoratoshatopatucinnizimmerdahlbettbedantessmercanottogormolamenhamendramerdramenbutbruttonotsolongheresearcherferryfederalpetersmanoeuvrecommanderandvastmagicianpatronmasterentrepreneurlamentsnotquitepersuasivedrammencorpsmannger, his granddaughter Patty Parry Mercelbruerrettovacanavacnapatoratoshatopatucinnizimmerdahlbettbedantessmercanottogormolamenhamendramerdramenbutbruttonotsolongheresearcherferryfederalpetersmanoeuvrecommanderandvastmagicianpatronmasterentrepreneurlamentsnotquitepersuasivedrammencorpsmannger, the fair brother Mark Mercelbruerrettovacanavacnapatoratoshatopatucinnizimmerdahlbettbedantessmercanottogormolamenhamendramerdramenbutbruttonotsolongheresearcherferryfederalpetersmanoeuvrecommanderandvastmagicianpatronmasterentrepreneurlamentsnotquitepersuasivedrammencorpsmannger, PhD, his fair sister Marceline Mercelbruerrettovacanavacnapatoratoshatopatucinnizimmerdahlbettbedantessmercanottogormolamenhamendramerdramenbutbruttonotsolongheresearcherferryfederalpetersmanoeuvrecommanderandvastmagicianpatronmasterentrepreneurlamentsnotquitepersuasivedrammencorpsmannger, the tiny baby colt of the family Mercelbruerrettovacanavacnapatoratoshatopatucinnizimmerdahlbettbedantessmercanottogormolamenhamendramerdramenbutbruttonotsolongheresearcherferryfederalpetersmanoeuvrecommanderandvastmagicianpatronmasterentrepreneurlamentsnotquitepersuasivedrammencorpsmannger, the tiny baby filly Mercelbruerrettovacanavacnapatoratoshatopatucinnizimmerdahlbettbedantessmercanottogormolamenhamendramerdramenbutbruttonotsolongheresearcherferryfederalpetersmanoeuvrecommanderandvastmagicianpatronmasterentrepreneurlamentsnotquitepersuasivedrammencorpsmannger, the other tiny baby filly of the same renown family Mercelbruerrettovacanavacnapatoratoshatopatucinnizimmerdahlbettbedantessmercanottogormolamenhamendramerdramenbutbruttonotsolongheresearcherferryfederalpetersmanoeuvrecommanderandvastmagicianpatronmasterentrepreneurlamentsnotquitepersuasivedrammencorpsmannger, the quite old middle brother Mark Mercelbruerrettovacanavacnapatoratoshatopatucinnizimmerdahlbettbedantessmercanottogormolamenhamendramerdramenbutbruttonotsolongheresearcherferryfederalpetersmanoeuvrecommanderandvastmagicianpatronmasterentrepreneurlamentsnotquitepersuasivedrammencorpsmannger, the quite old middle sister Mary Mercelbruerrettovacanavacnapatoratoshatopatucinnizimmerdahlbettbedantessmercanottogormolamenhamendramerdramenbutbruttonotsolongheresearcherferryfederalpetersmanoeuvrecommanderandvastmagicianpatronmasterentrepreneurlamentsnotquitepersuasivedrammencorpsmannger, Grandma Betty Mercelbruerrettovacanavacnapatoratoshatopatucinnizimmerdahlbettbedantessmercanottogormolamenhamendramerdramenbutbruttonotsolongheresearcherferryfederalpetersmanoeuvrecommanderandvastmagicianpatronmasterentrepreneurlamentsnotquitepersuasivedrammencorpsmannger, Second Cousin Twice Removed Itsanamemercelbruerrettovacanavacnapatoratoshatopatucinnizimmerdahlbettbedantessmercanottogormolamenhamendramerdramenbutbruttonotsolongheresearcherferryfederalpetersmanoeuvrecommanderandvastmagicianpatronmasterentrepreneurlamentsnotquitepersuasivedrammencorpsmannger, and Uncle Ditto Mercelbruerrettovacanavacnapatoratoshatopatucinnizimmerdahlbettbedantessmercanottogormolamenhamendramerdramenbutbruttonotsolongheresearcherferryfederalpetersmanoeuvrecommanderandvastmagicianpatronmasterentrepreneurlamentsnotquitepersuasivedrammencorpsmannger, and Aunt Ditto Squared Mercelbruerrettovacanavacnapatoratoshatopatucinnizimmerdahlbettbedantessmercanottogormolamenhamendramerdramenbutbruttonotsolongheresearcherferryfederalpetersmanoeuvrecommanderandvastmagicianpatronmasterentrepreneurlamentsnotquitepersuasivedrammencorpsmannger, T.B.E.G.E.B.T.T.I.D.T.M.U.F.T.S.O.I.I.A.N.S.I.T.T.I.M.L.O.L.U.S.L.B.F.T.C.N.I.R.S.L.R.I.A.A.N.C.O.T.T.B.L.T.I.T.N.T.I.A.C.B.H.O.)

So the boozer started talking about how they beat up faggots in Stalliongrad and Octavia Philarmonica, the fair maid, scrunchy scrunchy, whispered to Frederic Horseshopin, that, of course, homosexuality was not something she could let the public experience, and that she herself of course was no homosexual, but you gotta admit, they need to have their rights too, wouldn’t you agree, Frederic?, and told Frederic about the encounter with the senator Barbarian, victorious of her claim, but in a whisper, of course in a whisper, and then, when time passed, gently paid for the almost untouched coffee, without saying a word to the pianist, and led him softly outside into the lonely spring night.

In the night, the fresh air hit them like a tidal wave, and Frederic Horseshopin, first of his name, son of Fabius Horseshopin, staggered a little, more or less due to the alcohol, and the hit, of course, but Octavia said nothing and just gently propped him up at his side and let him walk side by side with her, yes, side by side, and the boozer watched out of the corner of the coffee shop and the pianist and the cellist walked, slowly, unsteadily, side by side.