She's A Cold Hearted Snake
It’s a gloomy winter morning in the greatest place on all of Equus: Antarcticolt. As is the case with the greatest place on Equus, snow’s coming down as though a cocaine shipment had fallen out of an aircraft. That, coupled with wind so delightful that it can make even the most forgiving of ponies hate the cold with the fury of a thousand suns, makes Antarcticolt an ideal vacation spot for many.
Such as scientists!
“Rise and shine, brainy bunch!”
“It's time for you two to go out and figure out just what the hell is beneath the ice,” growled an earth pony stallion; his coat as grey as the clouds above the group's base camp.
“Oh, come on, Higgleston” whined a unicorn mare with a coat as white as the snow that covered the land for miles upon miles (and then some). “We’ve been drilling here for Celestia knows how long! Can't we just go home?”
“Nelya, we've been here for two days,” replied Higgleston. “Your partner isn't complaining! Be more like him!”
Nelya turned her head to look at another unicorn—this one a stallion with a blue coat with icicles hanging from his fur.
“Jevline!” Nelya shrieked as she shook her partner.
SNAP!
Jevline’s head snapped off as Nelya continued to shake her now headless partner’s body, much to Higgleston’s aggravation.
“Nelya, this is no time to mourn over your popsicle of a companion!” he barked as he stormed into the tent. “We need to find out what in the world is beneath that ice before I'm arrested for stallionslaughter!”
Nelya ignored her boss's orders and continued to shake Jevline's body until she too, inevitably froze to death—along with Higgleston, who was subsequently eaten by a polar bear.
Okay, so maybe scientists don't quite like it down in Antarcticolt, but that doesn't mean that everypony hates it down here! In fact, I remember a time when a crew from Applewood came here to film a movie. Wasn't too long ago actually…
“Hey, do you know where Wilkinson is?” asked a unicorn stallion in a pompous voice. “We need her out now to shoot the final scene!”
As if on cue, another unicorn, this one with a jet-black coat, walked in. “Uh, sir?” he said. “Miss Wilkinson died during shooting the first day she was here. I thought you knew.”
“Wait, she died!?” the pompous unicorn shrieked. “How the hell did that happen!?”
“I dunno,” the jet-black unicorn said as he glared at the other unicorn. “Maybe it has to do with the fact that none of our trailers have heating.”
“Well, how else am I going to power my hot tub?”
The jet-black unicorn's right eye twitched violently. He calmly walked over to the other unicorn and whispered, “I’m gonna drown you in that damn hot tub later and cook some soup in it.”
And so he did.
Okay, so maybe that isn't a great example.
But third time's the charm, right? I mean, even I, the amazing Cupid G. Lovestallion, have to have had some success down here in Antarcticolt…
Okay, fine, maybe my luck here has been garbage. Not my fault they all came to this shit hole of a continent!
But, despite that, here I am once more. It's the same as it's always been: cold, windy, and either snowing like there's no tomorrow, or clear as a summer's day, with complimentary glaring light. Up ahead, I can see two ponies: an earth pony mare with a coat as yellow as a sunflower. To her right is an earth pony stallion with a coat as red as a rose.
I can feel the love emitting between the two; the lust.
They're perfect for each other. I just know it!
I hastily make my way to a vantage point atop a mound of snow (it's the best I can do out here in the middle of buttfuck nowhere, Antarcticolt).
Anyways, with the grace of a thousand doves, I unsheathe my handcrafted bow, which is infused with the magic of Princess Cadance herself. I quickly take out an arrow and take aim at the mare. The power of love, attraction—sexual and not—fills the arrowhead. I pull back the string and let go. I watch with anticipation as the arrow strikes the mare's flank. While she may not feel any physical pain, I can see the flickers of attraction begin to show as they continue their mundane conversation.
While I could ponder what they're conversing about (I see they're at a base of sorts), I repress all thoughts of that kind and, once more, take out an arrow. I hold my breath as I aim it—this time at the stallion-- and fire it off. As expected, it strikes the flank of the stallion.
I watch as an aura of love surrounds the two. While they can't see it, the aura is as vibrant as the afternoon sun. Attraction, sexual lust, and desire surrounds them as the mare suddenly goes to kiss the stallion.
Quite amazing how even the most mundane of conversations can lead to a kiss.
Not so amazing when Cupid helps.
Ah, but such is the way of Cupid. I've helped many ponies find the one they're meant to be with. From San Franciscolt to Las Pegasus, which almost always ended with regret.
I question why I ever bother going there.
Ah, but now is not the time for thinking. No, now is a time for celebration! For at long last, I seem to have finally done it in Antarcticolt.
I've had two ponies successfully fall in love.
As I hop down and walk towards the duo to retrieve my arrows, I can't help but think about my early years of doing this.
You see: there was once a time when I felt something whenever I'd cause two ponies to fall in love. By now, it's nothing but mundane work. I go to a place, I aim my bow, I take back the arrows, I hope they don't break up in three months or divorce in three years.
Same old same old.
This time though… it's different. To see two ponies fall in love here?
It fills me with joy; happiness.
It's just a shame that these two seem to have forgotten their jackets…
Maybe next time, Cupid...
Author's Note
Love's as cold as ice. It's willing to sacrifice.
