Author's Note
lol
Because It's Biscuits
It's a way too fucking bright and way too fucking loud day in Equestria. Jesus Christ, Anon. You haven't even fucking STARTED the story and you've been fuckin up.
You open your eyes, and you are immediately blinded by way too much fucking light. And it's way too hot. Like, way too hot. Is your AC broken or something? This is all wrong.
Sitting up in bed, you look around too quickly and the room keeps moving when you turn your head. Well, that explains things. You must have drank too much last night. But as you become more aware of your surroundings, you become even more aware of how badly you fucked up.
This isn't your beautiful house. This isn't your beautiful marefriend. Oh god. What have you done?
Also, you don't have a marefriend, so high fives are probably in order. Snoring gently beside you is a little purple mare with a tousled purple mane. She cuddles up gently to an empty bottle of wine, nuzzling her head against the opening like a newborn pup.
Well, score. Berry Punch is easily a 9 out of 10. Would waifu.
You get out of bed, grab your clothes and try to hold yourself steady. Your stomach gurgles menacingly, clearly as upset at all of your life choices as your dad probably is. But fuck him. He doesn't like Keanu Reeves. Actual trash.
A rumble, a gurgle. Oh shit. It's coming. You lean forward. Bracing for vomit, but force it down, instead releasing a reverberating belch.
"Nice one," Berry mumbles.
"You're awake?"
"Not willingly. You snore, dude. Like, bad."
"Well, sorry, I guess."
"Don't. I'm not, you're a decent lay. I needed that."
Berry sits up in bed, her eyes half lidded, her hair a completely gorgeous mess. It's that sort of morning wake up that she'd probably be mortified to be in a picture as, but gives that sort of, post-sex afterglow beauty. She holds up the bottle, downs the few last drips, then-
"YEET"
fuckin smashes it against the wall. You nearly jump out of your skin.
"Dude, what the fuck."
"It was dead. Viking funeral," Berry says, almost taken aback.
"But you threw it against the wall."
"It's my house."
You pause, not sure how to reply.
"Well okay. Well. I'm gonna take off. This was lovely and all, but."
Berry shakes her head, grabs a stashed bottle of wine from her nightstand, and uses her bedside corkscrew to open it.
"Nah man, you're hungover like crazy. Let's get you some carbs and water. I'll join ya."
You blink.
"Uh, you sure?"
"Yeah, then we can bang more if you want. I ain't doin anything today."
Woah dude. Nice. Hey brain, permission to get laid alot today?
DUDE WHY ARE YOU ASKING. DO IT.
"Okay sure, yeah. Where are we going?"
"The freakin Blue Crab?" you ask in astonishment.
"What do you think I am? Some sort of drunk plebian?" Berry said, taking a solid gulp from her 'walking round town' bottle of wine.
"I mean, most hangovers are solved at the hayburger."
"And mares with class get cheese, biscuits, and fish."
"Do you ponies even eat meat?" you ask.
"Are you really going to open this socio-political discussion as you have a bottle of wine in your mouth?" Berry asks.
"But I don't-"
Berry shoves a bottle of wine in your mouth. Honestly you don't know what you expected. You take a gulp then hand it back.
"Pineight Noir?"
"Temperneigho, actually. Now then, Berry needs salmon. Hop to it, loverboy."
Berry practically pushes you inside the restaurant and you walk up to the podium sheepishly.
"Two please?"
"OH! IS IT SUNDAY? DO THEY HAVE BOTTOMLESS MIMOSAS?" Berry asks.
"No, it's Saturday," you answer her, as the waitress mare glares at you with all the existential dread of the chain food industry instills into a person and leads you towards a table. "You could probably ask for a Mimosa still though.
"But it's not the same. I like my mimosas like I like my stallions, with no bottom."
You pause, looking around at your butt. You didn't think it was that bad.
You and berry recline into two seats and the waitress stares blankly into space, like a robot. They'll probably replace her with a robot eventually. Freaking money-grubbing industry overlords.
"Would you guys like the biscuits?" she asks.
"Is that a question?" you and Berry say in unison.
You can't help but smile. That was kind of cute. Who knows? Maybe this one-night-stand might end up turning into something more? She seems chill. She's pretty cute.
"I think I'm in love," Berry says.
You blink in shock and look to her.
"They have a salmon pizza. I need it," Berry says.
"O-oh. Right," you mumble.
"Anon, I don't think you understand," Berry says enthusiatically. "Salmon, and cheese, and everything good in life. It gives me... feelings."
You blink, then sheepishly look down to your menu, the idea of Berry shoving Pizza up her cooch being probably the weirdest thing this week to give you a boner. But not this month.
The waitress comes back with two waters, and a basket of biscuits.
"Can I take your order?" she asks, the life with her eyes lost long ago to the void of a capitalist monopoly.
"I'll take the Salmon Krabby Pizza with a Diet Dr. Kelp." Berry says.
"And you," the waitress questions. You look to her, and she looks back, unseeing, comprehending but not listening. Static and void.
"I'll take the Lotsa Lox, please," you respond.
She nods as she is programmed to do. Her nine pieces of flair jingle as she walks back to the kitchen.
"Well that was weird," Berry says.
"Yeah, strangely existential."
"No, she didn't ask your drink."
"Oh," you answer blankly. You know what. You have too much booze in your system for this. You reach into the basket and take out two of those godly Garlic-Cheddar biscuits. You wedge them together into a ball of molten carbs and take a big bite.
"Good thinking, Anon," Berry says. "We gotta be quick."
"Quick for what?" you ask.
"Well, we aren't saying here," Berry says.
"We aren't?"
Berry blinks at you.
"Were you going to... pay for your food?" Berry asks.
Oh shit. Berry's a fucking dasher.
"Well, that's what's normal... when you go to a restaurant."
"Nah man, they wouldn't give you the bread if it weren't free," Berry says. "Go to like, 5 restaurants. Free bread and biscuits. Watch."
Berry grabs the table and begins to lift it.
"YeeeEEE-"
"NO. STOP. NO YEETING."
The restaurant stops and glares at you. A small pup and a daimond dog mother sit in the corner, glaring at you.
"See!" she says, glaring at her pup with Ruby-red eyes. "No one else yeets in public."
"But, Moooom."
The restaurant returns to normal as you sigh. Berry grabs biscuit after biscuit, stuffing them in her mouth.
"Oh god carbs and cheese, yeeessss." Berry moans.
"Listen, I'll pay for it. Just..."
But you reach into your pocket. No wallet. Other pocket. No wallet.
Oh fuck.
"Berry," you whisper. "I don't have my wallet."
Berry smiles widely.
"Well then, Anon," she says holding the last biscuit up to you. "Are you breaddy?"
You blink.
You know what? Fuck it.
You grab that biscuit and shove it in your mouth, and swallow hard.
"YeeeEEEEEEEEET!" you toss the table and Berry leaps into your arms.
"BREAD BANDIT BRIGADEEE!" Berry screams, urging you forward like a captain of a ship.
You sprint to the front of the restaurant. The only thing standing between you and the way out is your waitress. She glares you down with her lifeless eyes.
"YOU CAN'T STOP US!" you shout, running forward with a drunken horse in your arms.
"You could literally kill someone right now, and I wouldn't care," she mumbles, stepping aside.
And so you burst out the doors of the Blue Crab, your mouth filled with the golden-garlic nectar of carbs, a small trail of red wine spilling behind you as Berry waves her bottle in celebration.
"NOW! TO THE ITALIAN PALACE!" Berry cheers!
"Italian Palace?" you ask, jogging through town. "Why not Sugarcube Corner?"
"Easy!" Berry explains, shoving the bottle of wine in your mouth. "BECAUSE I'M HUNGRY AND THE BREAD STICKS!"
