Two Colts in the Corner

by Almost Romantic

Rating: teen
Tags: Comedy, Random, Slice of Life
Length: 4155

Two colts. One restaurant. Multiple discussion points. Endless stupidity.

My name is Night Rush. You might recognize me from my adventures six thousand years in the past with Celestia and Luna. And before you ask: yes, of course I lived through it. I'm the main character, for Celestia's sake. What the buck did you expect?

Anyways, I'm back in Ponyville, and I recently met a newcomer to the town named Tom. An odd name for a pony, but apparently he's from a really long ways away. I've never really bothered to ask him exactly where. Since he's a blank-flank, he's a little lonely sometimes (ponies tend to find it rather weird when somepony doesn't have their cutie mark by the time they're in their mid-teens), so I decided that I'd make it a habit to have lunch with him once a week at Sugarcube corner. For some reason, Tom wanted me to write down the conversations that we had… something about making him feel nostalgic or something like that.
So, this is the result of our weekly lunch chats.

Note: This is an ongoing story, so therefore, it will (probably) never be complete.

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2011-12-24 21:08:31 UTC

Fillyfooling and Rainbow Cupcakes

“Okay, Tom, the first thing that I should you warn you is that Pinkie Pie is extremely…”

“Dude, I’m aware of who Pinkie is and what she does, what with her regular flexing of the fou--OH MY GOD!” Pinkie suddenly appeared out of nowhere and close to Tom’s face. He drew back in shock. “Hi Pinkie. Are you going to do that every time we walk in the door?

"Hey, guys! How're my two faaaaaavorite-est customers doing today?! Really? You're good! That's great, because I can't stand it when one of you two is in a bad mood or anything like that, and now you're in a good mood, and OF COURSE I'm gonna do this every single time you walk in the door; I wouldn't be a very good hostess if I didn't do anything like--"

"It's good to see you, too, Pinkie," I said, cutting her off with a pat on the shoulder. "I'll just have my usual, if you please."

"And a Dr. Pep—wait, they don't have that here—an apple juice and blueberry muffin for me,” requested Tom. "Darn ponies and their lack of soda..." He muttered under his breath

"Alright! A chocolate-covered doughnut, two chocolate-chip muffins, a coffee with peppermint, and a rainbow cupcake, coming right up!" Pinkie Pie bounced away, probably to the kitchen or something, humming a happy song to herself.

Tom gave me a sideways glance, raising an eyebrow at me. "Well, that's pretty specific. And gargantuan."

I snorted. "Actually, I just have Pinkie get me whatever she can think of first within the six-bit budget. It's usually a little smaller than that, but hey, I'm not complaining."

I led Tom over to a table by the window, watching ponies passing by as they waited on Pinkie to fill their orders. After a few moments of silence, I spotted a couple of ponies walking side-by-side past the window, holding hooves as they walked. Sensing a way to break the silence, I said, "Okay, so what's your stance on the whole fillyfooling thing? I mean, take Lyra and Bon-Bon over there, for instance. They catch more flak[1] than anypony, and frankly, I don't really think they deserve it. It's not really fair, y'know?"

Tom shrugged indifferently. "I really don't care whose company anypony 'enjoys' at night, just don't start rubbing it in my face."

I nodded, rubbing my chin with a forehoof. "I just wish ponies'd leave them be. I mean, what's it to ‘em?"

"I don't know, brony." He shook his head. "So, on to lighter topics. Anything new with you on this fine autumn day?"

I rubbed the back of my head with a hoof. "Well, I got to talk to this one filly today that I really dig..."

Tom swiftly leaned across the table into my face. "YOU MUST TELL ME EVERYTHING.” I'm not entirely sure how, but he managed to scream at me without raising his voice.

My ears flattened against my head and I leaned back in my chair. "Um... Uh... Oh, hey! Food's here!"

"Here ya go!" Pinkie had suddenly appeared out of nowhere, balancing a tray with our orders on it. She tilted her head and, somehow, our respective drinks and foods managed to land on the table in front of us without spilling or tipping over. "If ya want, I can come join you two after the lunch rush is over!" With that, she bounced away, saying something along the lines of "Lunch rush with Night Rush" or something like that.

Tom smirked. "Heh, she might get on my nerves sometimes, but she sure knows how to make ponies smile."

“Totally!” My ear flicked nervously. "So... yeah. What were we talking about?"

Tom’s smirk turned to a smug smile. "Oh, I think you know exactly what we were talking about, my sneaky little pony."

"I’ll only tell you if you agree not to call me that again." I took a large bite out of one of my chocolate-chip muffins, buying myself some time to think about what I was about to say. "Well, there's this filly... And she's incredibly shy. Y'know who Fluttershy is, right?"

"You might as well ask me who Pinkie Pie is, with that obvious of a question." Tom said as he tried to figure out how to go about picking up his muffin. Eventually, he gave up and just started nibbling on it.[2]

I feigned a look of utter confusion. "Who the buck is Pinkie Pie?"

Tom raised his hooves in the air and let his face slacken. "I don't know, but I've heard she throws terrible parties."

I look frantically around to make sure Pinkie didn't hear us. "Last time that happened, I think she became... different." I allowed myself to shudder slightly.

"Yeah, Pinkamena's some kind of scary." Tom shook himself and took a sip of his juice.

"Anyways. The filly. She's about as quiet as Fluttershy, except it's not that she's that shy; she's more soft-spoken than anything. And she's freakin' beautiful, man! You oughta see her."

"Have you talked to her at all? Do you know her name? Are you just going to stalk her for the rest of your life? Don't be like Spike, man; it hurts me to watch him do that to himself..." Tom trailed off from his barrage of questions with a dejected look on his face.

I winced. "It hurts everypony, brony. Anyways, yes, I said earlier that I talked to her today. That's how we got on this subject in the first place, remember?" I winked at him. "Anyways, her name is Roseluck. It wouldn’t surprise me if you know her, too. And apparently, flowers are only her main hobby--she's also a pretty kick-flank musician. So we talked about that for a few minutes... She was pretty busy, so I didn't wanna keep her." I noticed that I kept flicking my ears and rubbing my face and neck nervously, so I more or less sat on my hooves and said as an afterthought, "We smile at each other every time we pass by each other in passing, if that's anything."

"You are just so adorable when you’re flustered; it's almost as bad as Fluttershy herself," Tom stated flatly, munching on his muffin nonchalantly. "Dude, you play an instrument; why not see if you can set up a jam session with her? Or am I going to have to do it for you so you don't pass out from blushing to hard?" (You’re a complete flank sometimes, you know that? (Added by me)) Tom chuckled, "You are just way too easy to harass, man."

"'S not my fault..." I pouted. "And yes, I pan on setting up a jam session with her, but I'm a rock and roll kind of guy, and she's more of the calm, acoustic guitar type of filly... I don't think it'd go too well..."

Tom put his hoof on my shoulder. "If someone could convince Carlos Santana to work with Chad Kroeger, I'm sure you can get this little gig to work."

"Who the buck... well, anyways, I'm pretty much doomed, because I'm fairly sure that I'm coming off as being creepy." I ate the rest of my chocolate-chip muffin as if to punctuate my statement.

Tom sat and thought for a moment. "I could be your wing-colt; I used to play the bass a while ago. But I'm not entirely sure I could pick it back up again in such a short amount of time, BUT THAT'S NOT IMPORTANT!"

I couldn't help but chuckle. "I appreciate it, but I'd rather go by myself on this doomed endeavor..." I sigh and rub the back of my neck. "It doesn't really help that she's absolutely terrifying to talk to. You'd think that somepony as shy and quiet as her would be fairly easy to talk to, but somehow, the quiet-ness makes it that much more terrifying..."

"Like you're going to break her if you say the wrong thing." He nodded solemnly. "I am aware of the idea." A quiet had descended over the table again. "Well, anyways. I'm going to grab some more food, you want any?"

I glanced at my other half-eaten chocolate-chip muffin, rainbow cupcake, and doughnut still left uneaten on the table. I swirled my coffee to make sure that there was still some left. "I think I'm good. I might need a nice, big glass of milk for the rainbow cupcake, though. That thing's going to be hell, and this coffee’s just not gonna cut it." I handed him two bits with a smirk.

Tom grabbed the bits from me, put them in the pocket of his hoodie, and walked to the counter. "Hey Pinkie! I was hungrier that I thought I was; get me a pie--anything but rainbow--another juice, and a tall glass of milk for Night Rush."

"Comin' right up, Tommy-colt [3]!" She said with a grin. She disappeared back into the kitchen with a small puff of flour that flew out of her curly shock of pink mane.

Tom headed back to the table and sat down. "Stuff's on the way," he said, gesturing back to the kitchen. "So other than that, have you been doing anything else?"

I shook my head. "Not too much... I've been thinking about going to a studio and recording a few songs that I've written, but I don't have the bits to do it with... I don’t exactly have a job…" I started eating on my doughnut, realizing that I probably should’ve gripped it with a napkin or something almost immediately; the chocolate was still warm, and though that was a very good thing, it also meant that it got all over my hooves.

"Depending on how much it is, I could put in some money for that." Tom ate the last bit of his muffin on the table, brushing a few crumbs off of his chest. "You don't have to do all of this on your own, you have friends." He paused and started staring at the ceiling. "At least, I think you do."

I raised an eyebrow at him. "No, this is something that I wanna do for myself. It'd feel weird to use a friend's money for my hobby. And of course I have friends--I've got you, and I think I've got Roseluck, too." I scratched my chin. "Not sure, though."

He shrugged. "Suit yourself. Sweet, food's here!"

I eyed his food, and then looked back at mine; I still had yet to touch my rainbow cupcake, but my eyes were already starting to water from the aroma. A small grin spreading across my face, I said, "I'll take half and you take half. Whoever goes the longest without drinking this glass of milk wins."

Tom raised a challenging eyebrow at me. "Pinkie, we another glass of milk and a rainbow muffin."

(There is a large scorch mark on the scroll here, rendering the text of my glorious triumph over Tom in the rainbow doughnut-eating contest illegible and lost. Rest assured, I kicked his flank from here to Canterlot and back)[4]

"Totally. Bucking. WORTH IT."

Nurse Redheart sighed and ran a sterilized hoof across her face. "Night Rush, this is the third time this week you've been brought in here unconscious. You've got to stop this; seriously."

. "I won. More worth it," Tom croaked from his bed, which was right beside mine

"You did not!" I protested. "You reached for your glass, and then knocked it over, and then I reached for mine."

"But you were the first to drink, and I'm pretty sure that you said 'Whoever goes the longest without drinking milk wins,” Tom retorted.

"But... you... I... Buck you. You lost."

Tom turned and gave me a huge, annoying smile. "Problem?"

"Flankbucking parasprite…”

[1] Flak: A type of ground-to-air explosive used primarily in WWII. It was essentially a mortar shell filled with all sorts of shrapnel designed to puncture holes into airplanes. It’s also used as an expression used when somebody/somepony is getting a lot of grief from somebody/somepony.

[2]:      Tom: Damn these lack of fingers.

Night Rush: … What the buck are fingers…?

[3]: Tom: Hahaha, a Tommy-Boy joke I WILL KILL YOUR FAMILY

[4]: Tom: You sound mad, bro. U mad or something?

Terror and Tremolo (Part 1)

Terror and Tremolo

Part 1

Written in collaboration with http://www.fimfiction.net/user/Triques

"Do I want to know how you bucked yourself up this time?" [1]

"At least it was fun this time," I said with a grin, alighting on the dirt road in front of Sugarcube Corner carefully so as not to agitate my sprained knee. "Mosh Pits are awesome, by the way. But if you ever go to one, wear a helmet."

"Yeah I think I'll pass on that,” snickered Tom.

I had just flown in from the hospital, where Nurse Redheart had made sure that no bones were broken or ligaments were damaged, and she wrapped it in gauze... for some reason. I'm not entirely sure why, but her hoof seemed to be attached to her forehead almost the entire time that she was treating me.

"So what fantabulous and exciting things do we have planned for today, my dense and wonderfully entertaining pony?" Tom asked, pushing the door open with his hip and held it open for me. He had been standing just outside the door of the sweet shop, waiting on me to arrive.

"Uh... Eat, have Roseluck meet us here while/after we eat, and then go to the park. Or something. I don't even know... D'you think she'd like the park? I mean, everypony's been to the park, it's not like it's anything new... Maybe we could walk along the edge of Everfree forest or something... Or do you think that that'd scare her? She's a tad skittish, after all—”

Tom put his hooves on my shoulders. "Night. SHUT UP. Calm down dude, it's not that big of a deal. We'll eat then go to the park."

I sighed. "You're right... I guess..." I moved through the open door of Sugarcube Corner and was greeted by the cheerful ding of the bell that was mounted on the door. I looked around suspiciously. "It's quiet..." My ears flattened against my head. "Toooo quiet..." As usual, we were the only ponies in the store, since it was usually an odd hour to eat: right before the lunch rush hit, when everypony was still working or what have you.

"My goodness, pony," Tom said, walking past me with a shake of his head. "Could you be anymore high-strung today?" He walked nonchalantly over to our usual table and sat down, looking fairly content.

I ignored Tom and crouched down, inspecting my chair for any sort of practical joke. Seeing none, I slowly sat down, watching all corners of the room. "We didn't get a greeting at the door. That means one of two things: She's depressed, or she's planning something. I'm not sure which one I'd rather—"

“FOREEV--oh, wait. You're not Twilight.” I tried to hide my spastic jump at the sudden sight of a pink pony hanging from the ceiling with nothing holding her up. It didn’t work very well.

"No Pinkie, she had some reading to catch up on; it's just us." Tom smirked. "Well, Night Rush is bringing a lady friend with him, so there’ll be one more."

"Want a megaphone, so everypony can know?" I glared at Tom, whose smirk only broadened.

"Yes, please."

I sighed, bottling up the "buck-you" for a later use. "So, Pinkie--just my usual. Again." I smiled at her, hoping that she would allow physics to resume their normal course and stop hanging from the ceiling.

"Same, I'm in the mood for a surprise," Tom said, temporarily occupying himself by staring out the window.

"Same-same, or different-same?" Pinkie chattered rapidly after being quiet for an uncharacteristically long time. "They're different, but the same. Y'know?"

He paused, her words tripping even me up; and I had known her ever since she moved to Ponyville from the rock farms to the south. "Which would you recommend?" Tom asked.

“I recommend the different-same and the same-same all at the same time! Because, you know, it's mostly the same. But, in some cases, it's different. It's fairly simple, actually,” Pinkie said as if it was the most obvious thing ever.

Tom gave her a dumbfounded stare. "Different-same, I think."

"Okie-dokie-loki!" Pinkie grinned and disappeared from our fields of vision, and by the time we looked up to see where she went, she had already disappeared. A few echoes of pots and pans clattering in the kitchen told us that somepony was in the kitchen.

"I wish I could do that," I grumbled, jealous.

"We all do, brony." He sighed and shook his head. "We all do."

"I wonder if the slight insanity comes with it..." I shook my head to clear it before it became too fuddled with deep thoughts about life and consciousness. "Anyways. You should have been at that Foal Fighters concert last night. It was INTENSE. They finished out with The Pretender and All my Life in a row, and that's when the Mosh pit started..." I trailed off, a dreamy look on my face.

"I will never get tired of these pony puns," Tom chuckled and muttered to himself. "It sounds like you had a good time. I don't think I've ever heard much of their music except one or two songs. Then again, I don't listen to much music in the first place."

"Pony puns?" I inquired, tilting my head. "Anyways, yes. It was AWESOME. And you should totally look into them--they've got pretty much both sides of the rock and roll spectrum, from a few chill piano songs to some borderline-heavy metal songs." I laughed and threw my hooves up in the air. "It's the best of both worlds, man!"

"Ah, you've made the fatal mistake of assuming there are only two worlds, my young friend. That, and assuming that rock and roll is the only good shit out there."

“But it is the only good shit out there!" I said with a wink. "In all seriousness, though, I've got some mad respect for those guys. Along with this pony named Stewart Copeland, from The Royal Guards. That dude can play the bucking drums. You don't even know." [2]

"Well, I have seen Van Halen in concert; their drummer's pretty awesome, but I wouldn't know much about it anyway. I may play the baritone but that doesn't mean I have any knowledge of percussion instruments."

"Y'mean Van Hoofen?"

"Yeah, something like that."

"Sweet, man. I've heard they're awesome live. Where were your seats?" I leaned over the table interestedly, a slowly growing grin on my face.

He looked up and pondered for a moment. "We were on the right side, facing the stage, about two-thirds of the way up and about the same towards the back. Personally, I don't think where you sit at a concert really matters so much as who you sit with."

"True. And the ponies putting on the concert makes a huge difference. Ever seen a Boston concert? Or HEARD about one, rather? T'was a little before our time..." I leaned back in my chair and laughed. "Oh, man. Those things were intense."

"Ah, Boston: immediately recognizable because all their songs all sound the same, not that they bad or anything. From what I heard, the pony who wrote all the songs was very insistent on a highly specific sound."

I nodded vigorously. "And they didn't need any sort of pyrotechnics or any gimmicky stuff to make their concerts awesome. KISS is pretty awesome, but the whole looking-like-clowns thing gets a little old after the shock value wears off."

Tom nodded. "True."

I suddenly covered my face with my hooves and put my chin on the table. "Oh, buck me, Tommy."

He looked around quickly. "Fire? Flood? Pinkie Pie’s Super New Year's Bash?"

"Oh, Celestia, Tommy--even scarier!" I whimpered.

"Yo momma?" Tom grinned at his own joke. "No, seriously. What?"

I flashed him a glare, and then motioned out the window at the approaching horror.

"Am I just being blind, or is it really just a normal pony?" He asked with mock terror.

"Oh, Celestia--she's far and away more than a normal pony," I whispered, as if she could hear me through the glass of the shop window. "And that's why she's so scary! Do you know how long I had to build up courage to ask her to come to this?!"

"Since you started stalking her in the third grade?" Tom tried unsuccessfully to choke back laughter.

"You wanna go buck yourse--HAAAAY, Roseluck! Here, I'll pull up a chair for you..."

"Oh! O-okay, then." Roseluck flashed a quick, shy smile and sat down in the offered chair. "How're you?"

"I-uh... I'm pretty good! H-how about you?" I flashed my best smile, but judging from Tommy's rather amused reaction, I assumed that it looked rather forced.

Roseluck nodded and said, “I'm pretty good." She motioned with a hoof towards Tom. "Who's your friend?"

"I'm Tommy, glad to meet you."

"Nice to meet you too, Tommy." She flashed him a quick smile, and I felt a slight pang of jealousy. [3]

A blur suddenly appeared behind Roseluck. "Oooh, who's this? Your fillyfriend? Ooh, she's so pretty! You two make such a cute couple! Oh, wait--lemme get my camera real quick!" And then the blur was gone.

"What... What the hay just happened?" I asked, still somewhat shell-shocked.

Tom shrugged. "Pinkie Pie. Need I say more?"

Roseluck seemed a little bit more frazzled than Tom, but less frightened than I was. "Um... Is she always like that?"

"Mostly, unless she gets in one of those moods. Afterwards, you wish she'll never stop being happy again." Tom paused, staring in the direction Pinkie had left in. "But enough about our mildly psychotic, albeit rather endearing, friend. Tell me a little bit about yourself," He said, putting his chin on his hooves.

I aimed a kick at the front of one of Tom's cannons; however, I somehow missed, and managed to hit the edge of my fetlock  against a leg of his chair. I tried to look casual despite the tears quickly forming in my eyes. [4]

"Well, Night Rush and I met in school... We sat together during lunch and stuff, and that's where we got to know each other. And then we sorta stopped talking, and now we're hanging out again."

Tom nodded. "That's good. So, what are you doing with your life right now?"

"Well, I'm training to take over my mom's job as florist, and I play music some... I'm not very good, though..." She trailed off.

"’Not very good' my flank," I scoffed. "You could sing the pants off of anypony around, including me," I assured her.

There was a moment of silence that passed after my somewhat vehement reassurance of Roseluck's confidence. "What happened to Pi--" I was cut off by a blinding flash coming from outside the window. Pinkie had found her camera, apparently--and was now using it to act like a paparazzi and take pictures of us through the shop window.

Tom sighed and walked over, tapping on the window with a forehoof. "Pinkie, I know you're having fun, but I'm hungry and you still haven't taken our lovely young guest's order."

"Oh, she doesn't want anything," Pinkie shouted unnecessarily through the plate glass window with a grin. "And if you're hungry, then why haven't you eaten your food? It's right in front of you," she said (at a more normal volume this time) as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

And there was food in front of us. As if it had just appeared by magic. “That filly could rival Twilight with the whole teleportation thing.”

Tom was apparently so shocked and impressed all he could muster was a "Thanks Pinkie."

“Oh, my. That’s impressive,” Roseluck said with raised eyebrows.

Part 2 coming soon!

[1]: Tom: I GIGGLE AT YOUR MISFORTUNE

[2]: Tom and I talked a little bit about how the hay ponies hold drumsticks or guitars or anything like that, and I'm gonna go with how the author of "Angst Much" (At least, I think that it was Drax99 that described it this way... I’ll have to check on that. Corrections are welcome) described it: localized telekinesis similar to that of atomic bonds: strong, particularly in Earth ponies, but the object more or less has to be touching one's hoof to work. With guitars and stuff, they can sorta control the telekinetic field. Or something. ALIENS.

[3]: Why, you may ask? Because she was smiling at somepony else. I'm a paranoid coltfriend, I know.

[4]: At my best guess, this is the equivalent of hitting the cuticle of your thumb or another finger against something.