Sweeney Trot

Sweeney’s walk through London was not a refreshing one, fog still heavy and shadows still lingering everywhere. As he passed other ponies, he felt their stares drilling into him, each one another prick into his skin. He had grown accustomed to being look upon oddly however, and did not return a single gaze.

The air was silent outside the sound of hooves on the ground, and a fragment of conversation here and there. Sweeney found himself tuning out these sounds as he moved briskly ahead, passing each building with a passing glance. His weary eyes and quick trot seemed to imply he knew where he was going.

Sweeney turned on a corner at the end of yet another street as he looked up and down the road, eyes tracing across the structures. His eyes never lingered for more than a moment before he moved on, never stopping. The next street he arrived at however, seemed to throw him for a loop. He stopped dead in his tracks on the road, eyes instantly lifting to a high rising building. A narrow sign was laid against one of the ancient windows. Pinkie Pie's Meat Pies was sloppily scrawled onto the rotting wood. The stallion made a beeline for the door of said establishment.

At the open of the building’s swinging door, a bell fell from above, hitting the floor without so much as a single ding. The interior of the shop left much to be desired. Everything was covered in a layer of dust that had to have been piling up for weeks. It was barren, not a soul in sight beside the mare behind the counter in the back who was currently building a small amusement park out of what appeared to be simple dough, complete with a tall wheel on a post, somehow spinning steadily. Her mane, pink as candy floss, fell across her eyes, both narrowed in concentration, as she attempted to craft some other small shack. She kept this up for several moments. She hadn’t noticed him enter at all. Sweeney almost considered walking out before her eyes at last lifted up to him, a beaming smile suddenly appearing on her face as she quickly shot up, turning around to face a small crocodile, sitting motionless on a counter behind her.

“Gummy!” She squealed to to the pale green creature. It didn’t move as she scooted closer next to it, pointing a hoof at Sweeney. “It’s a customer, a real life customer!” A bright giggle filled the room as she bounced over to him, eyes practically twinkling with giddy abandon. Her front hooves wrapped around him as she backed up, dragging the stallion further into the room.

“Wait, what’s your rush, what’s your hurry?”

“You gave me such a fright I thought you were a ghost!”

“Half a minute, can’t ya’ sit, sitcha’ down, sit!”

“All I meant is that I haven’t seen a customer for weeks!”

Sweeney felt himself being shoved onto a small stool which groaned underneath his weight as the mare dashed away behind the counter. With a quick sweep of her limbs, her entire doughy park was shoved aside, revealing a few trays on the counter, each with a few crusty lumps on them, presumably the meat pies she advertised. She plucked one up in her hoof and placed it on a plate as she bounced back over to Sweeney, forcing it into his hooves. She paused for a moment before picking up the pie for a moment and blowing on it, pushing up a cloud of flour and dust off of it before she returned it to its place on the dish.

“Did you come here for a pie, sir?”

“Do forgive me if my head’s a little vague!”

Her hoof returned to the pie once more, picking up a small black bump from on top of the pastry. It wriggled in her grasp as she brought it closer to her face, inspecting it closely with one eye, grimacing. It was a roach, she had seemingly disturbed it when she picked up the pie.

“Euuugggghhh!” Pinkie squeaked as she held it away from her, showing her distaste for it. “What is that?” She hurled it behind her, not bothering to see where it landed, or what it could have landed in. She returned her attention back to Sweeney whilst stepping behind her counter once more.

“But you’d think we had the plague!”

“From the way that ponies keep avoiding-"

Pinkie was interrupted by her own sharp squeal, recoiling away from the hard-wood surface of her counter.

“No you don’t!” She cried indignantly as she lifted a pink hoof above her head for a moment before smashing it down, lifting it to reveal another roach, this one crushed against the counter. She quickly grabbed a rag to wipe away the insect’s remaining residue.

“Celestia knows I try sir!”

“But then no one comes in,”

“Not even to inhale!”

“Right you are sir, would you like a drop of ale?”

Pinkie Pie whirled around to grab a mug that was next to the crocodile, which still hadn’t moved an inch since Sweeney had entered. The mare idly patted his head as she grabbed the mug and turned it over, allowing a small collection of streamers and confetti to fall out. She picked up a nearby pitcher in her teeth as she began to pour a substantial amount of ale into the mug before handing it off to Sweeney.

“Mind you I can hardly blame them!”

“These are probably the worst pies in Lawndon!”

“And even that’s polite!”

“The worst pies in Lawndon!”

“If you doubt it take a bite!”

At the urge to try her pie, Sweeney lifted the crusty morsel, slightly intimidated by how obtuse and filthy it looked. He lifted it to his mouth apprehensively, taking a small bite. He immediately regretted the decision, an unthinkably horrifying taste filling his mouth. His throat swelled with saliva instinctively as the awful crust and filling began to rise in his mouth. He forced his jaw to clamp in an effort to keep himself from spitting it straight onto the floor.

“Is that just disgusting?”

“You have to concede it!”

“It’s nothing but crusting.”

“Just drink that, you’ll need it.”

Sweeney regarded the pink pony’s advice as he forced the food in his mouth down his throat rather uncomfortably before lifting the mug to his lips, letting the ale fill his mouth. It was noticeably watered down, but he could not have cared less, he was simply content to wash the taste of the pie off his tongue. His skin crawled with the mere memory of the texture of it. Pinkie Pie sighed, knowing full well that her pie had scarred and traumatized another patron.

“The worst pies in Lawndon,”

“And now wonder with the price of meat,”

“What it is, when you get it!”

“Never thought I’d live to see the day,

“Ponies would think it was a treat,”

“Finding poor animals, that are dying in the street!”

Her excitable disposition ceased as she slumped, glaring out of a nearby window, seemingly eyeing another pie shop up the street.

“Mrs. Cake has a pie shop,”

“Does her business, but I noticed something weird,”

“Lately all of Rarity’s cats have disappeared!”

“Have to hand it to her,”

“That's what I call, enterprise,”

“She's poppin' pussies into pies!”

She shook her head at the notion, feigning a gag complete with her tongue sagging out of her mouth.

“Wouldn’t do in my shop!”

“Just the thought of it’s enough to make you sick!”

Despite the brief moment of pride in her measurably more honest work methods, Pinkie soon slumped yet again, sighing deeply.

“And I’m telling you those pussy cats are quick!”

Sweeney raised an eyebrow. The more time he spent in the company of this mare the more he felt like walking out the door, even when he knew he couldn’t do that.

“No denying time is hard, sir!”

“Even harder then the worst pies in Lawndon!”

“Only lard and nothing more,”

“Is that just, revolting?”

“All greasy, and gritty!”

“It looks like it’s molting,”

“And tastes so-"

Pinkie stopped suddenly, apparently embarrassed by where she was going with her train of thought.

“Well pity, a mare who’s alone,”

“With limited wind,”

“And the worst pies in Lawndon!”

She sighed once more, laying her head onto her counter, not caring about the dough and roach that had gotten caught in her curly mane.

“Ah sir,”

“Times is hard,”

“Times is haaarrrd!”

Sweeney sighed, getting the feeling that the mare would make this a very long morning.