Prologue - The First Sip
It was a simple existence. There was never any serious demand on Fresh Tap for anything, nor was it hard to keep the place running. The Royal Merlot Bar in Canterlot was his legacy. He and his niece Berry Punch managed the establishment after Berry’s father Red Merlot, who had built the bar from the ground up, had passed away. Tap was his number-one employee, and Merlot could think of nopony else to hand the bar down to than his daughter and his brother.
Like a good bartender, Tap always listened to the customers that came in with problems, and he usually did his best to talk them out of washing their troubles away with enough alcohol to leave them in a drunken stupor. From relationship issues to various other complaints about themselves, ponies would ramble on and on, and Tap, sometimes with help from Berry Punch, would aid in turning their disgruntled moods around simply by talking to them.
This evening was no different than usual. Fresh Tap, grape-coated, black-maned unicorn stallion wearing his favorite black bartenders vest, stood behind the counter, watching the expected activity in the bar. The Merlot was at half its full capacity of ponies. Most came for the music. Tap had called in some favors from an old group of friends of his who called themselves the Ivory Hooves. The smooth aura of jazz filled the room and ponies lost themselves to pure relaxation in their seats. The remaining ponies took to the bar either to enjoy a class night on the town with a simple drink or to drown their sorrows in enough booze to make Princess Celestia consume Poison Joke.
“Uncle Tap, got the tank refilled!” Berry Punch shouted from the bar’s back room.
Tap turned to the door and shouted, “That’s my girl!” in reply. “Now get on back out here! The Happy Hour Rush is coming in!”
The ‘Happy Hour Rush’ as Tap had come to call it was the highest point of income the Merlot would have on any given day. The bar never filled up completely, but Happy Hour was the only time it could ever come close. Tap and Berry gave it their all for each and every ‘rush’, and they usually made out well enough from tips alone.
Ponies began to swarm into the bar, but none of them really had to battle for seating. The bar was approximately thirty hooves in length, which stretched from the stage where the jazz band played to the door of the bar itself. Berry Punch walked out of the back room wearing a similar black vest and joined her uncle serving the influx of customers. Berry and Tap worked like clockwork to keep the incoming customers happy. It wasn’t Berry’s natural skill, but she learned well from Tap, whose talent it was simply that: being a bartender. His cutie mark, a glass of some drink foaming to the top with sound vibrations around it, represented his ability to not only serve drinks but listen to every word the customers would say, good, bad or just flat-out confusing.
The hour passed quicker than usual and the rush dwindled down to the regular night crowd. The jazz had transcended from wild and exciting to cool and smooth. The cool touch of an autumn breeze flowed lightly into the room as customers moved swiftly out the door. Tap wiped the bar clean as the last pony took off, casually tossing the moist rag into a small basket hamper.
“Quitting time, Ber!”
Berry Punch marched proudly out of the back room, tossing a sopping wet dishwashing rag into the hamper along with Tap’s. “Pretty ordinary day today, huh, Uncle Tap?”
Tap nodded and smiled a small, satisfied grin. “Yep. Not too many customers coming in with problems these days. Guess it’s a good thing, though. No problems means more happiness, and more happiness means more happy customers coming in to celebrate said happiness!”
“I just wish it could last,” mumbled Berry. “We’re still struggling to hold things together, aren’t we? The prince has almost shut us down three times already.”
“As much as I hate to admit it,” replied Tap, “we aren’t doing as well as we could. Even with the generous tips of our patrons, we’re still almost ten thousand bits short of covering the next month’s property payments. We’re fine for thirty days, but we’re going to need to find a way to make up that extra money.”
“We just have to persevere, just like dad told us to, right?”
Tap recalled this memory immediately. Red Merlot, on his deathbed, told his brother and daughter to shoot for the stars, no matter what obstacles stood in their way. That was also the day the Royal Merlot became Tap and Berry’s life and home away from home. As it had when Merlot was up and about, the bar continued to bring both its patrons and owners limitless happiness in the form of lively music, tasty drinks and good company: three things that no other place in Canterlot could hold a candle to, not even the concert hall where the famed Philharmonica ensemble performed.
But even with its seemingly-thriving business, Prince Blueblood was more than determined to shut the bar down. His vocalized motives were that the bar was ‘not generating enough income for Canterlot as a whole,’ and that ‘nopony even goes to the bar anymore.’ His true motives came to light by sheer accident in a conversation between himself and Fresh Tap. He let it slip that his only real desire to close the bar and replace it with a brewery for his own personal use. Tap argued that Celestia and Luna would never allow such a selfish thing, but Blueblood, being Blueblood, disregarded his ‘meager peasant opinion’. Since that day, the unicorn prince had been raising the payment required by Tap and Berry to sustain the bar so they would eventually be driven out of business.
Fresh Tap had tried to send letters to Princess Celestia, but either none of them reached her or she had been too busy to respond. Regardless, Tap was running out of options. He’d hiked up his prices as much as he could without driving customers away, and not even their most expensive drink, the Merlot Special, didn’t help stimulate any additional monetary income. Still it wasn’t a complete failure in his mind. The smiles on his customer’s faces when he brought them their drinks was, to him, his greatest success.
“We’ll just keep working as hard as we have been,” Tap finally said. “That’s about all we can do.”
“Is there anything else we can do?” Berry asked. “Anything at all?”
“‘Fraid not, Ber. Just gotta keep following Red’s last words. Gotta keep pushing no matter what.”
“We can do it...right, Uncle Tap?” Berry asked with a worried tone.
Fresh Tap wrapped a foreleg around his niece and pulled her into a hug. “Of course we can. I know it.”
The plum-coated mare rested her head on her uncle’s shoulder. “I hope you’re right.”
The next day, the Royal Merlot opened as usual at noon. Also as usual, the number of patrons was at a maximum of fifteen to twenty at any given hour. The Ivory Hooves played their usual shuffle of arrangements and the small amount of patrons sat back and enjoyed the atmosphere. The bar itself was mostly empty. Nopony drank this early. Still, it was more barren at the bar than usual. In fact, it was more barren in the entire building than it had ever been. It was the worst drought the Royal Merlot had seen in months.
“I’m sure Blueblood is loving this,” murmured Tap, annoyed. “I’m expecting him along any time now. Whenever we’re short on customers, he tends to parade in and-”
“Greetings, peasants,” mocked a familiar arrogant voice from the bar entrance.
“Rub it in our faces.”
On flawless cue, the white-coated unicorn prince Blueblood marched through the swinging doors and straight up to Fresh Tap, grinning slyly.
“Good afternoon, Fresh Tap,” Blueblood greeted insincerely. “I hope you are doing well...” the unicorn prince glanced around at the near-empty bar. “Not as well as you’d like, it would seem.”
“Do you have a reason for being here, your highness?” Tap asked, hatefully seething out the last two words. “This is a place of business still, and if you’re not buying something, I have to ask you to leave.”
“Oh, but I am here for business, Mister Tap,” Blueblood replied. “I’ve come to make you one final offer on this heap of yours.”
“I told you already,” Tap interrupted. “I’ll never sell my legacy...my brother’s legacy.”
“How rude,” scoffed the prince. “At least listen to my offer.”
“As you wish. What is your offer?” asked Tap.
“I am prepared,” Blueblood began, “to offer you a grand total of twenty-five thousand bits and a permanent position at the brewery I intend to replace this unruly tavern with. You and your niece will be set for life. You’ll never have to worry about anything again. I’ll even pay you double the minimum wage.”
“No deal.”
“At least take a few days to think it-”
“I said ‘no deal’!” Tap shouted. “You told me to listen to your offer. You didn’t say I had to think about it.”
Blueblood, taken aback, gasped, “How dare you? How dare you turn me down without so much as a thought.”
“Well, I’m sorry, your highness,” Tap said, once again seething the prince’s underserved royal title, “But as I said before, this is my brother’s legacy. He passed it down to me to keep it thriving. I will have your rent by the end of the month. That’s a guarantee.”
Blueblood’s shocked expression returned to his smug grin from earlier. “Well, then...I wish you good luck, Mister Tap,” he said, hissing Tap’s name. “You’re going to need it.” With that, the prince took his leave through the swinging doors.
“Good riddance,” Tap muttered angrily as he stomped to the back room of the bar. The hours passed and the bar continued as it did on any given day: slow in the morning and the afternoon. As the evening drew near, Berry Punch walked out of the back room, sighing in relief as she began cleaning the drink fountains.
“Almost time for the rush,” she said with a bright grin. “This is just what we need right now.”
As she wiped away one of the fountain heads, she took notice to an unusual tuft of pink hair sticking out of it.
“Huh? Is this some kind of foam?”
Very confused, Berry poked at it with a hoof several times, discovering it was a solid but at the same time receiving no reaction whatsoever. She grabbed it with both hooves and pulled down, being met with some resistance this time. Pull after pull, the pink puff didn’t want to give, resisting Berry’s every pull, whether it was with her front hooves, back hooves or her teeth. Finally, the mulberry mare sighed and fell back onto a nearby chair. “I give up! Whatever you are, you pink...fluffy thing, you’re stuck in there good.”
“Aw, you’re giving up already? That’s no fun.”
Berry’s gaze shot forth to the pink blob trapped in the fountain and it did not falter. “I...think the aroma of the alcohol is getting to me. Again.”
The pink blob began to flow out of the tap rapidly until it was all a mass on the floor, which quickly popped up into the recognizable form of none other than Ponyville’s premier party pony Pinkie Pie, a figure well known across all of Equestria.
“Pinkie? How in the world did you get in there?”
“Through the pipes!” exclaimed Pinkie. “Duh!”
Berry thought to reword the question for a moment. ‘If I ask again, I’ll probably just be here longer. Might as well not bother.’
“So, what’s going on, Pinkie? What brings you to the Royal Merlot today?”
“Well, I just kinda wanted to talk. Again.”
“Just talk?” inquired Berry. “You don’t usually come here to ‘just talk’ unless something’s bugging you. Did something happen since the last time we talked?”
“Well...kinda sorta,” Pinkie replied, twisting her hoof left and right. “I wouldn’t call it a something.”
“Well, grab a seat and let’s talk. That’s what I’m here for.”
Pinkie nodded gratefully and walked over to the front of the bar counter, hopping up onto one of the bar stools and getting comfortable. Berry leaned on the counter, standing on her hind legs and holding herself up with one foreleg. “Tell your friend Berry what’s troubling you.”
Pinkie eyed the barrels and drink fountains to Berry’s left. “Can I get a drink first? Cherrychanga Cola, please.”
‘Well, at least she isn’t trying to drink the pain away this time,’ mused Berry with a sigh of relief. The barmare walked over to a set of fountains labeled ‘non-alcoholic’ and placed a glass up to one of them, letting a cherry-scented red syrupy liquid flow out into it. After topping it off and clearing the bubbles from the rim, she set the glass in front of the party pony and placed a pink swirly straw inside.
“One Cherrychanga Cola, your own special recipe. No bubbles and a swirly straw, just how you like it.”
“Thanks, Berry,” Pinkie said with a smile as she pushed a small cluster of bits forward, which Berry pulled into the register drawer behind the counter. The pink earth pony took a sip from her drink, grinning as the sugary flavor made contact with her taste buds. “That makes me feel so much better...okay. I can talk now.”
Pinkie moved her drink aside slightly and leaned up against the counter. “It’s about me and Scratchie. Things...didn’t work out.”
“Oh, dear...I’m so sorry, Pinkie.”
Pinkie dismissed Berry’s apology with a wave of her hoof. “It’s not your fault. I kinda saw it coming. I had a feeling she still loved Octavia, but there was just that itty-bitty hope inside me that she wasn’t. I mean...” The pink earth pony’s mane slowly drooped down from its poofy style to a longer, and darker for some reason, cut. ”Oh, I’m just so stupid sometimes.”
Berry went silent for just a moment. ‘Poor girl...this is the fourth relationship in the past month. First Discord, then Braeburn and Rainbow Dash, and now Vinyl Scratch. Some help I am.’
“You’re not stupid, Pinkie,” Berry said, running her other hoof through the pink pony’s mane. “You just have a hard time with being more than friends with ponies. You can still make anypony smile wherever you go.”
“I...you’re right, Berry. I forget that sometimes when I get like this.” Pinkie’s mane shot back up to its normal fluffy style and a bright smile lit up her face. “I feel so much better now!”
“Well, that makes one of us,” Berry mused aloud.
The next thing Berry Punch saw was the energetic party pony’s face now incredibly close to her own. “You helped me, maybe I can help you!”
“Unless you can bring in enough ponies to pull us out of an impossibly unfair debt, then I don’t think there’s much you can do.”
“Did you forget who you’re talking to, Ber?” Pinkie asked sarcastically, standing up on the barstool on her two hind legs with scarily-perfect balance. “I’m THE go-to gal for getting ponies together for parties! One or two bar recommendations a day is a slice of pineapple upside-rightside-down cake to me!”
‘Isn’t that just...pineapple cake?’ thought Berry, quickly tossing the notion aside to focus on the situation at hoof. “If you can really do that, then thank you. We could really use the customers.”
“Just let your ol’ pal Pinkie take care of it!” the earth pony beamed. “I guarantee one hundred percent satisfaction! That’s like, total satisfaction right there! You can’t go wrong!”
Berry giggled slightly at Pinkie’s ecstatic demeanor. “Then I set this task in your capable hooves, Pinkie. Good luck.”
With a mock salute and an excited leap which left her levitating midair for a split second, Pinkie took off out the door. Berry shook her head and chuckled, then turned to continue cleaning the counter as she noticed Pinkie’s drink still sat there unfinished. Turning to call the bounding party pony back for her drink, the pink blur bolted in and out and the drink was emptied from the glass before the barmare could even get a word in. Berry pulled the glass over to the sink and proceeded to wash it and restock it in the shelves below the counter. She glanced over at the door hopefully, awaiting the usual late rush.
‘Let’s hope your plan works, Pinkie Pie.’