Taming Strange. Or: How I learned to stop worrying and make love in public

A now needleless Roané Haycartes trudged with a dragging step into the Breached Barrel tavern, a stone's throw away from Royal Canterlot University. A favorite of his and his dorm mates. A few of his classmates were assembled at the bar and cheered his entrance raising their pints. They always gathered to hear the fiery debates between the two ponies, the fillysopher and the poet.

At a corner booth whispering sweet nothings to the bar mare sat Haycarte's dorm mate Wordsmith. A creamy sky blue coated unicorn with silver coiffure for a mane. A literature major and self styled poet laureate. His turn of phrase had charmed many a mare. If anypony knew how to solve Haycarte's problem it would be him.

"Ah the conquering hero returns in triumph! Tell me do we need a new fillysophy professor, or a new Dean?" He said raising his glass. He only noticed the thousand yard stare when the earth pony sat down.

"I say old colt what's the matter? It couldn't have been all that now could it." He didn't get a response and the unicorn grew genuinely concerned, his eyes widened. "He couldn't have actually expelled you could he? For a fillysophical dispute? Surely this is." He gasped suddenly at a startling epiphany.

The bar mare who he had been romancing had gone off to get the stallion's usual, and had just put the pint glass down when her head was grabbed in both hooves by Wordsmith.

"Do you see that?" He pointed with his hoof at the still blankly staring pony. "The slightly flushed cheeks, the visage that says I'll never see something so beautiful ever again. The slumped posture of a proud pony who's just been humbled yet is happy to be so!" He hugged the mare's head to his chest. "At long last could it finally be?" The ponies that knew Haycartes gathered around in silence like foals waiting in anticipation for the climax of a story.

Finally the silent fillysopher spoke. "I met a pony today. When I saw her I couldn't think or speak, and now my chest hurts." The assembled ponies were on pins and needles. "I think I'm dying."A collective groan escaped the entire group. The other ponies went back to their tables and drinks.

Wordsmith slammed his forehead into the table only barely not snapping off his horn "OOOOH NO! You were so close!" The unicorn whined. "Have you learned NOTHING since you've been under my tutelage?" The poet drained half his drink testily. "Can the pony who does nothing but think really not puzzle out what the symptoms mean. Do I need Sawbones to give you a physical?" He made an obscene gesture with his hoof.

Wordsmith knew that jokes about his sexuality never pricked his dorm mate's nerves but it never stopped him from trying. "Think hard dear colt. Your heart is pounding. Words escape you. And all because of another pony whose beauty literally struck you dumb. What. Does. That. Sound. LIKE?." The unicorn ground his teeth together. Come tartarus or high water the fillysopher was going to say it out loud.

Haycartes put a hoof to his chin and thought back to all those poetry sessions he had been forced to sit through. He hazarded a guess. "Uuum. . . Love?"

Wordsmith flipped the table to the side and grabbed his roommate crushing him about the waist in a bear hug. He slung him around In triumph. "YES! I KNEW IT! My little filly's finally become a mare." The unicorn shouted. He dropped the ragdoll that was once a pony. "Who is she? I simply must help you write your missives! Come dear colt. Sit. Drink. Tell me everything."

"This is what love feels like?" Roané barked. "The symptoms are more akin to how Sawbones describes a panic attack. I couldn't think, I couldn't breathe, I couldn't move! I was in utter agony. Yet despite all this all I want to do now is see her again! It's madness!"

Wordsmith had to choke back tears. His little filly was growing up and learning what love is. A very disgruntled bar mare brought over two new pints and righted the cast off table. The two dorm mates sat down and the love struck fillysopher explained. "I went to talk to the Dean. He wasn't in his office but instead there was this pegasus."

The poet stopped drinking abruptly, a mild panic pervading his features. He looked hard at the speaker and a rapid fire question and answer session followed.

"Tan coat?"

"Yes.

"Golden flowing mane?"

"Yes but I don't even know her name."

"Playing a harp?"

"Yes, who is she?" The assembled ponies started to look at each other nervously knowing where the conversation was heading.

"Voice like the seraphim on high?"

"YES TELL ME HER NAME!" Haycartes rose from his seat, hooves on the table.

The unicorn rose, making theatrical gesticulations to go along with his questions. "Eyes that pierce the very soul, that shame even diamonds for their luster?" The whole bar was silent in abject terror.

The earth pony grabbed the unicorn by the chest and started shaking him. "HER NAME DAMN YOU! WHAT IS HER NAME?"

The poet freed himself from the fillysopher's grasp and not losing any momentum bellowed. "Death! And ruin rides with her. I beg of you my friend, don't choose this hill to die on."

"Explain." Was his only retort. Haycartes knew that Wordsmith was overly theatrical at times, and a chronic marenator, but no fool. They'd had too many debates for the earth pony not to trust his friends reason.

"She's the daughter of the Dean old colt." He said as if that would end the conversation. As if he were talking to a pony with sense.

"So?" Was the only reply. Another gasp escaped from the bar ponies.

His roommate was bursting with pride at the heroic determination of his friend but for once prudence had to supercede romance. He tried to reason with the valiant lover.

"My friend use your famous reason. If you seek this mare her father will make your life terribly unpleasant. Not just in University either! I believe that pony has the influence, or the affluence, to render you anathema to any and all who would help you. I commend you for your bravery but please." He put a hoof on his friend's shoulder. "Do not seek this mare.

The fillysopher was disappointed by the pusillanimity of the infamous seducer.
"A pony not willing to sacrifice personal convenience for love will lose both and deserves neither!" The bar cheered. He had finally said it. The demon of Diogeneighs' Hall was in love.

A pegasus stood up, raised his pint and called out. "The fillysopher has out romanced the poet!" Causing the bar to once again erupt in cheers and peels of laughter. Wordsmith chuckled in spite of himself.

Wordsmith was an excellent friend. He diligently did his duty of trying to find a suitable match for the cantankerous fillysopher. Unfortunately, of those who could look past his reputation as the demon of Diogeneighs' Hall, could not get past his stilted demeanor and scouling countenance. It was too the point where Wordsmith was worried he'd have to have an uncomfortable talk about his friend's tastes.

Of course the one mare he shows interest in would be the least suitable bachelorette possible. Because it's Roané Haycartes of course he'd have to fall in love with the pony whose father could very easily have him killed. It just wouldn't be right with any other mare would it.

Wordsmith had a sad grin on his face as he rose lifting his glass towards his friend. "So the fillysopher has donned the role of the tragic hero."

Roané Haycarte did something then that the assembled ponies had only seen him do twice. He smiled, then thought for a moment. "How would you put it Wordsmith?" He raised his glass and shouted. "Gentlecolts! I'm Going To STICK. MY. DICK. IN. IT!"