The Wizard of Whitetail Woods III
Chapter 5
Admiral Biscuit

Checking in was the first issue. The deskmare, understandably, was not keen on allowing two weird looking adventurers, one wearing a shoddy bathrobe and the other wearing nothing at all, to reserve a room at her hotel. Entreaties that she’d let them several nights before when KitKat was still a pony fell on deaf ears, and the Wizard’s AAA card didn’t do the trick either.

Had they not smelled like a skunk’s asshole, the deskmare might have been more accommodating. Or not, who’s to say?

Eventually, the duo convinced her of their bonafides, and she grudgingly accepted a hoofful of bits in exchange for a night’s lodging, with the assurance that if the room stank like skunk in the morning, they’d be paying extra.

She also sniffed and bit every coin that crossed her frog to ensure it was genuine. KitKat had often impressed in the wizard that bite marks in bit coins were typical; until that moment he hadn’t seen the required action in action.

Their room fortunately contained two beds, a flushing toilet, and a bathtub. A nightstand which had a drawer which boasted an IPU Bible, and several freshly-washed towels. Importantly, it also featured a bathtub rather than one of those shower-only contraptions.

Everypony knows that bathing in tomato juice is the best way to combat skunk odor. Not everybody knows that it isn’t actually effective; while the odor of tomatoes masks the skunk smell due to olfactory fatigue, the thoils don’t actually get washed off. A better treatment would have been hydrogen peroxide, baking soda, and liquid soap.

Since neither of them had access to google search, and since the Wizard’s schlong was still being shy, thus precluding a spell to neutralize the odor, they called down to the kitchen for enough gallons of V7 juice (which was similar to V8 juice, but lacked the lettuce in order to avoid trademark and patent lawsuits) to fill the bathtub.

If the Wizard’s membrum virale had shown signs of life, KitKat would have still ordered the juice; she’d’ve rather been a smelly pony than a non-smelly Playboy centerfold.

In due time, the juice arrived, in dozens of cans pushed on a repurposed maid’s cart. The bellcolt required a tip to use his can opener on each can in turn, and the duo proceeded to fill the bathtub.

There are probably things less sexy than a private bath in cold reconstituted tomato juice (and beets, celery, carrots, parsley, watercress, and spinach, in case you were curious what the other six were). Even when there’s a couple in said bath, practically anything else is more sexier. I don’t base this on actual knowledge, but it’s honestly an ‘everybody knows’ kind of thing.

Isn’t it?

The point is that during the intimate process of bathing, where each of them did their very best to put tomato juice anywhere that skunk skank might be sticking, the Wizard’s old chap finally rose to the occasion, despite the constant litany of complaints from Miss July 2008, formerly KitKat the pony.

She seized on that (not literally), literally wrapping her human hand around his stem and pointing it at herself. Also squeezing and stroking in a manner which might cause the magic to happen.

What happened next might be described as a miracle or a sin, depending on one’s upbringing. The important point of it is that at the end of the impromptu bath handy, KitKat was a pony again, and without ever slitting the Wizard’s guggle. A circumstance which left both happy.

It’s often been said that there’s nopony happier than a pony covered in V7 juice doing a victory dance in a bathtub filled with tomato juice, skunk skank, and a Wizard, and KitKat illustrated that bit of homespun wisdom impeccably, even briefly breaking into song.

She skipped the dance; bathtubs are notoriously slippery.

💦

In due time, both of them were suitably scrubbed down, and in case you were wondering, they did take a shower afterwards because nobody and nopony likes to go to bed while still coated in tomato juice. Don’t believe me? Try it yourself.

Thought so.

💦

In some ways, as the two of them laid in there separate beds, it was a return to normal. To the status quo. If this were a serial, it would be the moment where things returned to exactly the way they were at the start of the episode, facilitating easy syndication. ~~Of course, it isn’t; it’s a genuine representation of the struggle of man~~ vs. ~~beast on a quest to self-actualization.~~

KitKat wasn’t what one would consider a clever pony. She’d willingly been pillowtalked by a Wizard—literally the worst Wizard in all of Equestria—into accompanying him on a quest for a magical mcguffin, and even after signing his NDA and what could only be interpreted as a gross breech of contract, stuck by his side. Nearly paladin levels of lawful good, that’s what I’m saying.

It was a fact that the Wizard sleepwalked, that was undeniable. It was also a fact that he thought with his disco stick.

Further, it was also a fact that in his tadger-thinking, humans were more attractive than ponies, especially if they were centerfolds and had fake tits.

KitKat hadn’t known that when she signed the NDA back at the bar, but she knew that now. While the contract didn’t specifically mention it, it didn’t preclude it either, and that was just a thing she had to deal with in her relationship with the Wizard.

Adventuring was risky. That was something she had known, and something she’d fully embraced. She was prepared for most eventualities.

Thus it was in a Mareiott on the edge of an untamed wilderness, in a hotel room with two beds and a litter of empty V7 cans and also a pungent odor of skunk asshole which honestly wasn’t fully masked by tomato smell, KitKat laid in bed. Mostly asleep, but only mostly.

And predictably, in the middle of the night, the Wizard woke, took his anaconda in hand, and shuffled over to her bed. We all know that it didn’t want none unless she’s got buns, hon.

This time KitKat was prepared.

This time, KitKat had a mirror.

FIN

Author's Note

It’s everywhere! It’s in my raccoon wounds!