The house on the edge of town was hardly ever quiet. Melodious strings would sing. Thumping bass would shake the area, felt as much as heard. At the very least, cheerful voices would ring out, for this was Ponyville, friendliest town in the nation (as determined in a completely unbiased study by an authority on the subject.)
But sometimes the house was all too silent. Those were the bad days.
At first, as Celestia raised the sun, it was the gentle quiet of sleep. Then ponies stirred in beds on opposite sides of the house, and the mood quickly shifted to a grim state not unlike two armies preparing for battle.
Octavia and Vinyl Scratch stomped towards the house's shared kitchen, split down the middle like many of the common rooms. Each stopped as she faced the other on the opposite end of the hallway leading into it, glaring in a droopy, uncaffeinated way that spoke of an argument that had not lessened overnight, merely crusted over into something that would take much more than a long soak to dislodge.
Octavia deferentially dipped her head and took a step back, leaving the kitchen doorway clear.
Vinyl, devoid of her glasses this early in the day, responded by tossing her mane like a Canterlot dandy, stepping back a full body length, and dipping down into a full Official Royal Greeting Pose, horn touching the carpet.
This might have continued until each found herself standing outside of the house, trying to wordlessly indenture herself to the other, were it not for the coordinated grumblings of their stomachs. They shared a look of faint amusement for a moment before both glared and snorted. Octavia made her way in first, though Vinyl shouldered past her to the cupboard, yanking the thing open in a spiking telekinetic aura and wrenching out a teacup.
That gave Octavia pause for a moment before she shook her head and took out a cup for herself, pressed between her forehooves. She made for the tea cabinet, with over two dozen varieties to choose from, when a sound made her stop and turn towards the opposite end of the room.
The unfamiliar crinkle of cellophane sounded again as Vinyl's magic wrestled with a sealed box she'd snared from its resting place atop the icebox. Dust drifted off the disused little container even as Octavia watched. She couldn't help but think of Mare's Day three years ago. Vinyl had somehow managed to forget a holiday when she would be getting a gift and had clearly raced into Barnyard Bargains and—
Octavia derailed the train of thought out of self-defense. It did nothing to stop Vinyl from punching open the box of the cheapest, most Celestia-forsaken tea Octavia had ever seen with the tip of her horn, extracting a pouch full of those glorified floor sweepings, and plopping it into the empty teacup.
By the time Octavia managed to break herself out of her shocked stupor and select a tea worth drinking, another sound made her turn around once more.
There stood Vinyl, tapping a hoof as she stood in front of the open faucet. After a displeased nicker, she lessened the flow and filled her teacup.
Directly from the tap.
Right onto the tea bag.
Octavia held back a shudder. That was what Vinyl wanted by acting out in such a way.
After Vinyl considered her cup for a moment, her horn lit up. A note rose in pitch like a rocket, going from middle C up into ultrasonic territory in seconds. A few moments after a few pained canine yelps from outside—and one from under the floorboards that Octavia would have to look into later—the water began to boil.
Octavia turned to the perfectly serviceable kettle sitting right next to her, then back to Vinyl. She shook her head and went to work preparing a proper cup of tea. She managed to arrange leaves, kettle, cup, and strainer, pointedly ignoring the clinking of the sugar bowl. She then turned to the icebox to prepare something go with her drink.
That, she realized, was a mistake.
Vinyl was already there, three objects in her field's grip. One was the teacup, which was, to Octavia's silent horror, still boiling. Another was half a lemon left over from two days ago, which Vinyl was all but crushing as she forced its juices into the cup. And the third...
After a few incredulous moments, Octavia realized that it wasn't as bad as it looked. It was, in fact, worse. After all, that glass bottle didn't contain milk. Between the size of the bottle and the richer smell of the liquid as Vinyl poured it, it was clear that she'd just put cream in already lemoned tea.
It was at this point that Octavia noticed that the tea bag's paper tag had been left in the brew, staple and all. This was because little flecks of the former had begun floating to the surface, along with a length of something thin and tarnished.
Once she'd added cream to her apparent satisfaction, Vinyl nodded to herself, as if there were pride to take in what she had wrought. Then she set her tiny, porcelain witch's cauldron on the kitchen table, got a box of cereal out of the cabinet, and began preparing her usual breakfast as though she'd done nothing wrong.
Octavia eventually managed to break her gaze away from the cup, and the... fluid within. She found herself finishing her own tea with exaggerated care and forced herself to go about fixing her breakfast normally. She couldn't show that that vulgar display had affected her. That's what Vinyl wants, she kept telling herself. She's acting out like a foal. You can't give her the satisfaction of reacting to her little tantrum.
The two sat down, tea and a fruit salad for one, milk and cereal... and something... for the other. Breakfast was almost cordial from there. Cold, but cordial. Even if Octavia found herself glancing at the cup now and again as the steam eventually stopped and the liquid assumed a shade of black she usually associated with thunderstorms at night. The tea bag eventually bobbed to the surface like some kind of diseased lily pad, but she wouldn't give Vinyl the satisfaction of acknowledging the atrocity. Not out loud anyway.
Finally, after Vinyl tilted back her cereal bowl and drank the last drop from it, she picked up the cup, still without extracting the bag. As she lifted it, faint unhealthy rainbows shone on the surface, like some twisted artifact of corrupted harmony. And the smell. Dear Celestia, the smell. It was like that time wild lightning had struck Froggy Bottom Bog, the resulting fumes consuming the town for the better part of a week.
Slowly, Vinyl brought that foulness to her lips, eyes shut in apparent anticipation. Steeper and steeper an angle it tilted, until—
"Don't. You've ruined it."
Blast. Vinyl's smirk said it all as she set the cup down.
Octavia sighed. "All right. Fine. I'm sorry I said Nat King Foal is overrated."
Her response was a dazzling smile, only slightly lessened by bits of brightly colored grain lodged between the teeth. Vinyl lifted the teacup in her magic and upended it over the sink. After a few shakes, she shrugged and tossed it into the wastebasket instead. She then grabbed a can of her usual concentrated, overly sweetened, unhealthily alchemical caffeine out of the icebox.
Octavia had never been so happy to see that stuff in her life.
Vinyl saluted her with the can as she cracked open the lid. "Apology accepted."
Author's Note
Unicorns get rises out of earth ponies by performing unspeakable sins against nature.
Earth ponies endure the hardship, rocks that will not be moved.
This may only make the unicorns try harder.
Also, Equestria's chemical industry is definitely advanced enough to produce Froot Loops, and possibly Monster.
This was inspired by a tweet I saw recently. Can't remember the precise wording, but it was something along the lines of "I have a British boyfriend, and one time I was so mad at him, I made my tea in the microwave."
My thanks to everyone who provided their insight in how to ruin tea in the blog leading up to this story.
