Mango Twist took one last drag on his cigarette. Raising his head to blow the smoke out of his nostrils, the stallion spotted the small patch of opaque, cloudy sky that was desperately trying to be seen, up there between the skyscrapers of Manehattan. The gray cigarette smoke went to mix itself with the ambient fog that constantly shrouded the city.
The unicorn stallion dumped what was left of his seven-minute-long break into the street's gutter, which was gray as well. In fact, everything in this street was gray, except Mango, whose flaming orange mane and bright yellow coat contrasted with the ashen landscape, in a way that was almost disturbing.
But the morning was still very young, and the sky was supposed to brighten up in the afternoon. Just like the days past and every single day after that one, the pegasi from the PRADA (Pegasus Rain And Dew Authority) were late to act in the suburbs.
Mango Twist's cigarettes were one of the only small comforts that the stallion had to keep him going, and he wasn't anywhere near to giving up on it. It wasn't inside his tiny apartment and even less so during his work hours that he could be relaxed, so that pastime had revealed itself necessary to him.
His early morning leisure time over, the stallion had to get to work.
Walking down the grimy pavement, the unicorn halted in front of a drab building that was squashed between two brick-red buildings. The iron curtain that covered the bar's doors lifted, following a few metallic scraping noises. Once it was all the way up, Mango opened the building's door with a second key.
Haphazardly fumbling with the light switches, the stallion let out one of the most horrendous swear words as he realised that the fuses had blown during the night.
Mango Twist's day wasn't off to a great start.
From the basement, he managed to reactivate the current, and it was with no surprise that when he came back to the main room he found one of his regulars waiting outside. With his magic, Mango Twist hurriedly set up his bar's chairs and tables, and flipped the lights on, giving the whole establishment more warmth.
It was only when he'd done so and given the counter top a quick scrub that his first customer of the day decided to enter.
"Hiya, kid," said the earth stallion as he entered.
"For the billionth time," groaned Mango Twist, "it ain't 'cause you got two decades on me that you have the right to call me 'kid'." He hated being belittled and considered a foal by his elders.
The earth stallion threw his black briefcase onto a nearby chair and slumped down onto another seat. "Heh. I'm sorry. Got a lot on my mind, ya know..."
"Yeah, yeah... you're good," interrupted Mango. "Your usual?"
"My usual."
As the earth stallion unfastened his tie, Mango started preparing an extra-strong brew for his customer. The latter started complaining about his life, about how he suspected his wife of cheating on him with the neighbour, about his children who were running him mad. The unicorn wasn't really paying attention, but his regular's monologue was grinding his gears nonetheless.
The doorbell chimed and two ponies entered the café, giving Mango an excuse to flee his regular's unwavering complaints, who started sipping his coffee, a glazed expression on his face.
The bartender sat his two newest customers at a table at the back, and as he brought their orders over, they started playing a game of cards.
Returning to the bar, Mango unsurprisedly noticed the absence of his previous customer. Just as usual, he had left some money and his empty cup at the bar. Mango stored the money in the cash register and levitated the cup to the sink.
When he looked up from the register, an aged pegasus stallion was standing in front of him. The bartender quickly rinsed and stored the cup, saucer and spoon, before taking care of his newest customer. "What'll it be?" he asked nonchalantly.
"Breakfast menu and the newspaper," responded the pegasus, promptly. "Would it have killed you to say 'hello'?" he added, visibly offended.
"You wanna teach me manners? I'm a bartender, not one of Twilight's crowd, ya know."
The stallion facing mango snorted, slightly annoyed. But he satisfied himself with turning around and going to sit down at an empty table. Mango Twist got a tray, and loaded it with a cup of coffee, a tall glass of orange juice, two slices of toast and a croissant, not forgetting a dose of butter and jam.
He brought it over to the pegasus who had been sulking since he'd sat down. The yellow-coated unicorn placed the order on the table, and the customer started muttering about today's youth, about how in his day ponies were more polite, and that nowadays you could get assaulted for a cigarette.
The bartender rolled his eyes, tired by the reproachful and nostalgic mutters of the old pegasus.
As it turned out, Mango didn't even have the time to return to his counter: a pint glass flew in front of his face and smashed against the wall. He spun around, to see the two customers who'd been playing cards exchanging punches, calling each other a cheat.
The orange-maned unicorn hurried into the basement, and rushed back out, charging with his baseball bat.
"You damn cheater!" exclaimed one of the two fighters. "I saw you change one of the cards behind your wing, you stupid bastard!"
"Flip off!" retorted the other. "It's no skin off my nose if you're a bad loser and a blinder!"
"WILL YOU TWO STOP?" shouted Mango, furiously readying his weapon.
The bartender noticed six aces stuck in one of the pegasuses' wings, before receiving a violent punch to the muzzle. The losing earth pony had missed his hit destined to his adversary.
"Sweet Celestia!" exclaimed Mango, massaging his lip.
The two ponies were still angry, but weren't fighting anymore, probably deterred by Mango's bat.
"Get outta here!"
Once out of the bar and past a street corner, they resumed their fight.
The stallion let out a loud sigh and went to put his bat away behind the counter. The bell rung again, which announced the arrival of a new pony to the bar. It was a unicorn mare, whose appearance clearly showed that she was a lifelong streetwalker: a common sight in this borough. net stockings, heavy makeup and an extremely short leopard-print skirt: a questionable fashion sense, to say the least.
Mango Twist tore his eyes away from the mare's thighs, and went to clean up the broken glass that littered the space behind his counter. Meanwhile the mare stood in waiting at a nearby table, adopting an almost feline pose as she waited for the barkeep to come and take her order.
The bartender winced, not at ease in front of his un-humble customer. She started blabbering before the bartender had even come close to her, describing in great detail her previous night, which she'd spent with a barely of-age stallion. The bartender managed nonetheless to hear her order, and promptly turned around to go back to his post, feeling the streetwalker's eyes observing his behind.
The unicorn mare left the establishment just before noon, but not before trying several times to gain the barkeep's favours. The latter took this rare opportunity to take a short break on the pavement. With his magic, he lit his day's second smoke. Seven minutes rolled by, during which Mango observed the suburban borough's activity.
It was midday when the busy hour started, and the bar quickly found itself full. The atmosphere was a lot more relaxed and easy than it had been in the morning, a fact that relieved the stallion. He was finally done with the annoying customers for the rest of the day, or at least he hoped so.
However, just like every lunch time just after his smoke break, a pegasus stallion came to slump onto the counter under Mango's annoyed gaze: the barkeep knew him enough to know that this one complained all the time. And in spite of the many times when the bartender cantered off to serve his other customers and fled the weeper, he could never escape the latter's narrative. He insulted his boss with a great variety of curses and described his secretary whom he would love to get in bed with. After a while, seeing that the pegasus stallion still hadn't ordered anything, Mango cautioned him to leave the café, claiming that he was wasting a seat that could be used by another customer.
The winged pony grunted and left the bar through the main door, which's bell mixed itself with moans coming from the very back of the shop.
An earth stallion, who was clearly under the influence, had climbed atop a table that was being used by five youngsters. Mango Twist couldn't tell if the pony was shouting at them or yelling into the void. Exhausted, Mango went to join the small group, looking up at the drunkard.
"I coulda been rich, I tell ya!" he shouted. "Coulda been rich, famous, and just because of an honest mistake he cut me loose!"
He was wavering on the table as much as he shouted, and one of the young ponies threw a desperate look at the establishment's manager.
"But I'm a good guy!" asserted the drunkard. "I was exceptional, don'tcha know!"
"Sir, please!" bellowed Mango Twist.
The earth stallion stared at mango with his two bloodshot eyes, and threw himself off the table and into the barkeep's forelegs, crying as loud as he could.
"And now, what am I? Just a useless, good for nothing idiot!"
The unicorn escorted, or rather dragged the drunkard to the door, and threw him outside without any warning.
"Take ya stories somewhere else!" shouted mango, slamming the door to the drunkard's nose.
Returning to his counter, the tapster felt the inquisitive gazes of his other customers, but didn't pay attention to them: he was tired, and longed only for one thing: his shift's end.
And it ended too late to his taste. Even though the majority of his customers had left, the group of youngsters stayed and drank until well into the night, and the moon had reached its peak when the bartender could finally clear up the café.
With his magic, Mango placed the chairs on the table, swept the floor and cleaned the last glasses used. He then locked the door and lowered the metallic curtain before dragging his hooves over to his apartment.
His cigarette burned bright in the poorly lit suburb.
