Sex, Drugs, and More Drugs

"Why the everdying fuck are we here? We aren't nightclub ponies."

High Ride sighed and turned to face his flatmates as he adjusted a heavy backpack. Heavy, blaring rave music and multicolored lasers spilled out of the door ahead of them, and a bouncer stood nearby.

"Business. Clubs love me. This is where most of my income comes from."

Hungry Desire rolled her eyes.

"Let me rephrase the question: Why the everdying fuck are Me and Hardline here?"

"I get out more than both of you combined even if I didn't have a job. Two social recluses are two too many under one roof."

"None of us have jobs, High Ride. We have "an intake of cash from questionable sources.""

"You know what I mean."

High Ride turned and put on a charming smile for the gruff bouncer. Hardline and Desire both looked on in bemusement as the bouncer surprisingly returned the smile.

"'Sup, BJ? How's your brother doing?"

"Aw, he's doin' great, Rider. His donut shop's doing pretty well after the princess herself went there once. As for here? Ya' kno' how it goes down these days. Throw out the odd skank or two- same old, same old. Ya here on business?"

"As always! Got some groupies this time. Think you can let em through?"

The towering bouncer cut a ridiculous character scratching his chin as he looked them over. After a minute of judging some values he shrugged and looked down to the hopeful weed-dealer. He threw up his hooves in defeat before nodding.

"2-for-1 deal. That's as low as I'm going, Rider."

The shorter earth pony jumped up and hugged the bouncer affectionately.

"Bouncer Joe, you are the best bouncer ever! Thank you sooo much! And as promised..."

He dropped back to his hooves and fished around in the backpack for a moment before withdrawing four wrapped up blocks.

"Four of my home-cooked brownies! Just for you big guy!"

The bouncer laughed and waved them through as he happily tore into one of the packages.

Hardline and Desire felt shellshocked. The casual banter and spontaneously animated High Ride was so startlingly out of character compared to the apathetic slacker they saw at any other time that they began to wonder if he had started taking a more volatile drug.

"You guys gonna be alright?"

They both snapped back to their senses to realize they had migrated inside the club, and were mere hoofsteps away from joining the moshpit of raving ponies in various states of bliss and depression. They gave synchronized nods and Rider waved them off before melding into the crowd, already peddling his illegal wares.

Hardline and Desire met eyes for a moment before splitting off towards different targets.

Hardline went ears deep into the moshpit, scanning ponies as he went through. Every so often a blue hoof would shoot out and retract instantly. He soon emerged from the other side of the crowd and snagged a poorly lit seat beside the bar and began emptying his wings. Over a dozen coin purses and wallets fell out and he stripped each one of anything valuable. A few minutes later, he began flicking them back out onto the dance floor, now devoid of any usable bits.

"Well, well, well. Hardline? The disgraced druggie/star hoof ball player pick-pocketing? What a story that will make."

Hardline froze, but soon resumed flicking wallets into the crowd as he heard the tone of her voice. She recognized him, but she wasn't from the press. He had learned to recognize journalists just by their words out of necessity. He finished chucking the evidence and turned to the owner of the voice. A smartly dressed grey earth pony mare with a black mane had sat down beside him, idly fiddling with her purple bowtie.

"What's a fancy mare like you doing in a place like this?"

"Well, mostly to support my friend. She's performing tonight and asked me to come watch her show. Not really my scene, but hey, friends are there when you need them."

She paused as Hardline suddenly barked out a laugh.

"HAH! Not my friends. We tolerate each other at most. I got dragged out here just because Rider doesn't like me sitting on my ass when I don't have stuff to do."

"Is he the one going around selling marijuana?"

"What gave it awa- High Ride, I swear to Faust if you don't put down the lighter right the fuck now you will find at least seven needles lodged in your chest."

High Ride sullenly sulked away with a pout as the mare suddenly burst out laughing.

"I take it he does that often?"

"You have no idea. How he managed to light my best hat on fire while I was wearing it I'll never know."

The mare was losing it now, slamming her hooves on the table repeatedly as she fought to regain her breath.

"Oh My Celestia! That's amazing!"

"It's really not! He took a picture of me panicking and lorded the camera around as a threat before I chucked it out the window. Of course, then I had to stop the stupid bastard from falling seven stories after he fucking caught it!"

It was five minutes later that they both finally stopped laughing at High Ride's insanity. The mare stopped first and smiled cheerfully.

"I have to admit, Hardline, you're nothing like the surly, grumpy drug addict the newspaper makes you out to be."

"Well the addict part's right. The other stuff is because that's the only response those little shits are gonna get. Faust-damned leeches is what they are."

He took another shot and waved to the bartender, the hard liquor only just starting to make a dent in his immune system. He suddenly blinked and raised an eyebrow at her.

"You know, I never caught your name."

"Oh, right. I actually approached you because I'm something of a kindred spirit. Ever heard of Octavia?"

Hardline nearly choked on his drink.

"The Octavia!? From the Galloping Gala mishap two years ago? How could I not? Your reputation almost fell as fast as mine. Oh shit- sorry, sorry! My condolences and all."

Octavia waved him off with a smile.

"Don't worry about it, it was the morphine talking."

"GOOD EVENING MARES AND GENTLECOLTS! DJ PON-3 is in the house!"

They both turned to see a white unicorn with a neon mane bounce onto stage amid cheering and dubstep. She was definitely an eye catcher with her risque dancing, loud music, and the dozen glow sticks swinging off of her limbs.

"Oh hey, there's my friend."

"Well that was a rather lackluster response for your friend, don't you think?"

"I AM HIGH AS A KIIIIIIIIITE!!!"

"Oh shit. He got the DJ."

"Same to you."