Silent Graves

As the critic took the final bite of his final piece of pie, the waiter reappeared. "How did you find your samples, Madame?"

"I certainly found a good many things that I liked. The soups were actually really nice, and I was sure I'd love the pierogi."

"I'm glad to see that your guess was correct. Will there be anything else for you?"

"Just the leftovers and the bill, please. I think it's time I went home."

"Of course, Madame." Hoisting the platter up onto his shoulder, he returned it to the kitchen to bag it all up. He was back in less than a minute, with an expertly wrapped section for the unnamed coltfriend, and a smaller wrapped piece containing what had not been eaten up on top. He placed them on the table, along with presenting the bill. After tasting the food and seeing the numbers, he considered himself pleased with the cost. It was a middling to nice meal, with a fair price.

The critic moved to the register inside the main building, where the host was waiting. There was an indoor dining hall, as well, but one look at the ceiling told him why it was not offered to him. Several light fixtures had been pulled out and loose wires hung everywhere. It was clear that they were fixing a problem with their light fixtures.

"How long have you been having lighting problems?"

The host shook his head. "A few months, I'm sad to say. We think we know what the problem is, we just have to have an electrician solve it. Should be fixed by the end of the week."

"Well, that's good, at least." The critic paid his bill, plus a twenty-five percent gratuity for the excellent service. As he would be reimbursed the cost of the meal, the gratuity was on his own volition, and the exceptional service was something he would be focusing on in his review.

As he turned to leave, he suddenly tripped on a cable running across the floor. Thankfully, he'd placed his food on the counter while digging through his purse, so it was sitting comfortably. His wig, on the other hoof, had tumbled to the floor, along with half the contents of his purse. Quickly, before anypony could see, he pulled the wig back onto his head before standing back up.

"Are you alright, Sir?" asked the host, rushing around the counter to help the critic back to his hooves. "You're not hurt, are you?"

The critic rushed to stuff his spare wigs, a dress, and his notebook back into his bag. "I'm alright," he assured the staff. "I just tripped over one of your lighting cables."

"You should be more careful, Madame," he warned. "You could injure yourself if you aren't paying attention."

"I will certainly be more careful in the future," he promised, picking up his food and departing.

"La mort nous ridiculise tous!" waved the waiter. "A swift journey to you!"

After arriving at home, the critic took off his wig. As he entered his house, the dress came off, as well. He placed them gingerly on their hangers and stands, making sure they stayed in good condition. They were vital pieces of his disguise, and if ever he needed them again, he wanted them to be ready. Besides, the cotton panties were very comfortable.

Wiping the makeup off his face, he took a swig of bismuth subsalicylate to ease up his heartburn. He regularly overate, and as a result, his acid reflux was out of control. He always kept a bottle or two around to keep it all in check, and something he'd eaten today was telling him that he needed it.

He sat down at his desk, pulled out his notebook, and let out a belch. He could still taste the pierogi on his breath, and couldn't wait to have more tomorrow for breakfast, reheated as they may be. He flipped back a few pages in his notebook and slid a sheet of paper into his platen. His ribbon was new, so that didn't need replacing at all. He just started typing away.

"I went to the Dawn & Dusk Diner in New Horseleans for breakfast recently. The place was packed with freight carriers stopping in before rushing out their cargo for the day, or perhaps some of them were having something to eat before going to sleep for the day, depending on their scheduling. My first impression was that of a seedy underbelly, but after a few minutes of listening to the conversations around me, I was quite charmed by the atmosphere. While you may think of these ponies as street toughs or thugs, at the beginning of the day, they're a hard-working group who deserve some reward for their efforts.

"Unfortunately, no such reward can be found at the Dawn & Dusk Diner in New Horseleans. I decided to go really easy for this, a simple bit of toast, two haycon strips, and two eggs over easy. Any diner in Equestria should be able to do this simple breakfast staple. Unfortunately, pretty much everything was wrong. Perhaps it was because they were busy, but the meal I was given was mostly overcooked. The haycon was so crispy that you couldn't skewer it with a fork. It just broke apart into little shards. The over-easy eggs I ordered came over-hard, so there was no delicious runny yolk to sop up with the floppy, barely cooked toast. Pretty much the only thing they did right was the fresh-squeezed orange juice. Freshly squeezed from a carton of concentrate and mixed with water. There was ice in mine, and it tasted way stronger than the juice. I asked a few of the other patrons if this was a regular spot of theirs, and the one that wasn't just passing through said it was usually like this, but it was only two bits for an omelet.

"If you have no other choice than to go to this restaurant, wake up your neighbor and have them make your breakfast. You will have a much more enjoyable meal, even if you hate your neighbor. Do yourself a favour and go somewhere else. Sure, it's cheap, but in this case, you receive exactly what you pay for."

He leaned back and twisted in his chair, hearing the popping of the disks in his joints as he did so. He had a few more of these to push through tonight, but his heartburn wasn't disappearing as fast as it usually did. With a stretch and the shaking of his head, he returned a few times and prepared to write the next review. Indigestion or no, he had to complete his work for the citizens of Equestria that went out to eat. Somepony had to protect them from bad food.