Super Gypsy Lord Admiral Nyronus Shachza Shouldn't Write Shipfics, Volume II

Crash. It took mere seconds for the dainty, mail-bearing pegapone to crash tail first through the overhang of one of the more well-established street side bars that have recently begun to spring up in the sordid town of Ponyland. Given the particular products served at this certainly well-kept and irrevocably established place of selling, a certain earth pony with a penchant for consuming the souls of helpless alcoholic beverages of the bottle variety.

“Delivery for a miss, ah... Berry Punch!” The perky gray mare exclaims once she recovers from what should have been a lethal buttsplosion into the hard, hard cement. After what can only be described as a direct transition in scene, Derpy finds herself inexplicably corralled in a single-pony bed with another pony pressed against her, smelling of elderberries and drenched in a faintly coloured resin that looks awfully similar to the drink located in a package she received almost a scene ago. Looking around at the considerable mess she had gotten herself into, Derpy is forced to acknowledge the perplexing situation in the only way a mare of her confusing calibre could.

“I just wish I could remember it!”