The Long And Short Of It

Unfortunately for Anonymous, his conversation with Blueblood did not peter out after that; the royal drama queen wanted to know ALL about what he’d been up to. It seemed that Celestia had given him the impression that Anonymous was a noblestallion as well, albeit from a far away land. Another one of her pranks, Anon supposed. That’s probably why Blueblood wanted to hang out with him so badly when he’d first arrived. Oh well. No reason to correct him now.

“Oh, it must be so jarring to live amongst the gentry now,” Blueblood decried with a sigh. “I can’t believe Auntie didn’t set aside a fiefdom for you!”

Anon resisted the urge to roll his eyes at Blueblood’s declaration. “It's fine, really.”

The noblestallion shuddered at Anon’s words. “I can’t imagine what it must have been like to grow... accustomed to that life.”

‘Jesus, this guy really is a living stereotype.’

Anon was glad he knew who Blueblood was dating. Otherwise, he’d be terrified at the thought of seeing a horse Habsburg with his very own eyes. “Says the guy who’s also dating a guardsmare.”

“Oh pish posh,” Blueblood scoffed. “It's only natural that one becomes intimately familiar with the one guarding his life.”

‘Hold on, was that an innuendo? I didn’t think he had it in him!’

But even more shocking than the insinuation was that, for the briefest of moments, gone was the pompous prince, and in its place was the spitting image of a human teenage girl. “Besides, she really gets me. You know?”

Anon was tempted to laugh at the stereotype but honestly... he DID know what he meant. If the green coated stallion had a glass, he’d have raised a toast to it. “Amen to that, brother.”

“...Amen?”

Thankfully, before he was forced to explain what ‘amen’ means, a knock on the door interrupted their conversation.

‘Finally! Goddamn, did he tell me to show up an hour early or something?’

In a surprising show of speed, Blueblood was already on his hooves and at the door. Anon sat up at attention as well, curious to see the first of whatever menagerie Blueblood had invited. And as the stallion pulled the door open, Anon was greeted with the sight of a white coat with a familiar blue ‘stache and his stuffed looking saddlebag.

“Fancy!” Blueblood exclaimed, beckoning the new arrival in, with a smile.

The mustachioed unicorn, meanwhile, strode into the room, and man did he look peeved off. “Well, Blueblood, I made it. Despite your directions.”

“Oh come now,” Blueblood said, frowning. “This week’s wasn’t that hard.”

“For you, maybe,” a new voice chimed in. Following Fancy in was a new unicorn that Anonymous didn’t recognize. He was pretty plain as far as ponies go, with a tan coat and a swept back, blond mane. He had a pretty snazzy looking suit coat on, though! “After all, you’re the only one here with a compass rose cutie mark,” the new guy observed.

‘Hm, seems like I wasn't the only one who received a wonky invitation.’

Blueblood looked back at his own rump, like he was surprised to see that his cutie mark was there. “Hm, I suppose I hadn’t considered that.” But nearly as soon as it appeared, the minuscule trace of doubt in Blueblood’s face disappeared. “Ah well, you two arrived just fine, if a bit late! And Anonymous seemed to have no trouble at all with this week’s riddle-map!”

‘A riddle-map? Jeez, no wonder they sounded so annoyed. But wait, why’s Blueblood talking like I got one of them too?’

As if trying to answer his silent question, Anon caught Blueblood giving him a sly little wink.

‘Ah, he must be trying to get me to cover for him and save some face.’

‘Hmm, now here’s a conundrum. Leave Blueblood high and dry, or mess with Fancy Pants and the new guy?’

‘Well, two ponies messed with is better than one…’

“Yeah, it wasn’t that hard.” Both Fancy and the new guy evidently hadn’t noticed Anon, and were caught off guard by his interjection. But with wildly different reactions!

“Anonymous, my colt!” Fancy bellowed, “I feared I’d never see you around these parts again!”

“Wait, that’s Anonymous!?” The second stallion cried in apparent dismay.

Fancy shrugged at his friend. “I tried to tell you not to take the bet, Golden.”

The pony, who Anon supposed was Golden, wasted no time galloping over towards him. Stopping on a dime, he ran his gaze up and down the green unicorn’s body, taking in Anon’s every detail and making him feel more than a little uncomfortable. “Hmmm, he certainly dresses the part...” the new stallion muttered, as Anon self-consciously adjusted his newsie cap with his magic, trying to draw the pony’s attention to it and hopefully end the uncomfortable moment.

“Hmmm.”

Finally getting the hint that Anon was the real deal, he stood up straight and proffered his hoof. “My name is Golden Gavel, and do you swear on your noble house you are Anonymous of the Canterlot Canterer?”

‘Man, this dude must really not want to lose this bet.’

Anon accepted his hoof bump, albeit a little uneasily; his words were another reminder of what he was putting on the line here. These ponies really thought he was one of them! “Um, yeah.”

Golden let out a heaving sigh as his face fell, and he slumped forward with resignation. “Drat.” As he turned back towards Blueblood, Anon caught sight of something shuffling around in his suit pocket as he lit his horn. “Take it!” He shouted, whipping the item across the room toward the Prince. Blueblood, surprisingly, caught the object with ease, stopping the projectile dead with his golden magic. It was a little case of makeup: the promised reward. “It's last season’s shade anyway.”

‘Wow, that’s the level of banter these guys have? That’s pretty pathetic.’

Although that wasn’t as pathetic as the fact it made Blueblood start moaning and groaning like a kid that just got told Santa wasn’t real. Anon could practically hear Pike’s voice in his ear scornfully saying, “Stallions.”

Desperately hoping for something to look at besides the sordid scene, by chance, his eyes fell on the door just as someone new walks in. An Earth pony of all ponies, no less! An Earth pony he thought he vaguely recognized from the one Marg Monday he’d gone to so long ago.

‘Gray coat, bluish silver mane, golden laurel cutie mark…’

‘Yeah, I’ve definitely seen this guy before. Count something, I think.’

“Ah, Caesar! Good to see you,” Blueblood greeted him. It was a good thing the Prince hadn’t let Anon get into the wine after all; he would have just spat it all over himself.

‘He’s Count Caesar. Honestly, how the hell did I forget a name like that?’

Golden immediately left Anon’s side to go greet the stallion himself, and it occured to Anon that if he wanted to pass as some high society putz, he should probably start acting like one. So, without further ado, he hopped off the couch and made his way over to the gathered stallions.

Caesar was the first to notice Anon’s approach, and surprisingly sent a friendly smile his way. “Ah, Anonymous,” he said, extending his hoof, “I always knew you’d come around eventually.”

‘He did?’

Deciding against jumping down whatever rabbit hole that comment entailed, Anon simply returned his hoof bump. “Good to see you again Caesar...”

As his hoof made contact, he hesitated for the briefest of moments.

‘Am I really about to risk looking like a weirdo for a joke that’ll only make me laugh?’

‘...Yeah, I am.’

“...a shame, what happened to Julius.”

Much to Anon’s shock, Caesar did not ask who he was talking about. Instead, he just sadly shook his head. “Indeed. Nobody anticipated that the senate would react that poorly, but I suppose you cannot win them all.”

It took every ounce of willpower he had to not cry out in alarm.

‘It's okay, Anon, it's just like the painting. Don’t think about it too hard. Just accept it and move on.’

“Seems like that’s just about everypony,” Fancy interjected to Blueblood. “Shall we get started, my friend?”

“Preposterous!” Blueblood cried. “We’re still missing one!”

“Yes, one who probably won’t arrive for another hour if last time was any indication,” moaned Golden.

Blueblood’s face scrunched in annoyance in a way that was becoming increasingly familiar to Anon. “Oh fine! He won’t mind if we open a bottle or two. Come!”

In hindsight, it was obvious why Blueblood insisted on waiting to open the wine. He’d said he’d only open “a bottle or two,” but as soon as he downed that first glass, it was obvious there was no stopping what had been started. It’d been only half an hour, but almost every bottle had been opened by that point. Anon thought the whole point of these was to try a little of each wine, but the guys kept filling their glasses like they were trying to get sloshed.

And the peer pressure was HIGH! Mares openly trying to get him drunk had been less pushy. The only warning he got before a new glass and another piece of cheese in his face was Blueblood loudly saying, “Anonymous, dear colt! You simply must try this Frausberg with the Marelot!”

Thankfully, Golden immediately interceded on his behalf and magically pushed the foodstuffs away. “Let the stallion breathe, Blue, he hasn’t even finished the glass he’s got!”

Blueblood’s eyes flicked to the partially-full glass Anon already had floating in his hand before letting out an exaggerated sigh. “If I must.”

Anon shot Golden a thankful look; after all, the more he drank, the more likely he was to say something stupid. Better to take it nice and slow while observing.

“Say, Anonymous,” Caesar began, drawing the unicorn’s attention to him, “Your coat has quite the sheen to it. What’s your coat care routine?”

Anon blinked. That was a rather unexpected thing to ask out the gate. “Just Dr. Alkaline’s Castile Soap. Why?”

“No no no, old colt,” Fancy cut in, “He means your entire routine!”

‘Oh. Uh oh.’

He hadn’t thought about all that. How was he going to tell these guys he used an 18-in-1 soap created by a stallion that believes the worship of the sun can make you immune to the tricks of changelings? It wasn’t like he knew the names of any other products that he could bullshit with!

That’s when he got an idea.

‘Hope this works…’

“W-Well, I’m not really comfortable giving away all my handsom-y secrets. Especially since I don’t know any of yours!” Anon let the statement hang for a moment, searching the faces of the gathered stallions. As the silence slowly became more and more awkward, he sent up a silent prayer that his shot in the dark was correct.

Thankfully, his prayers were answered as the sweet sound of Fancy’s acquiescence hit his ears. “I suppose that’s only fair.”

Golden nodded. “I’m certainly loath to give up some of my best kept secrets.”

‘Phew, bullet dodged.’

‘Now I just need to come up with a new topic, fast.’

“Alright alright,” Blueblood spoke, putting an end to the murmuring. “I’ll share first, then.”

‘Wait, what? No!’

The white stallion cleared his throat, and sat up a little straighter, like he was about to give a speech.

‘I didn’t think they’d start monologuing about what they do! This isn’t what I wanted!’

“Well, to start, in the morning I’ll put on an ice pack if my face is a little puffy.” Anon stared in surprise for a moment, as Blueblood’s statement made him curiously prod his own face with a hoof.

‘How can he even tell under all the fur?’

“After I remove the ice pack, I quickly apply a deep-pore cleanser lotion. Then, once that’s absorbed, I get in the shower and use both a water-activated gel cleanser and a honey-almond coat scrub.”

‘Okay, seems a little excessive, but—’

“For my face, I break out my favorite exfoliating gel-scrub. Oh, and for my mane and tail I use a tea tree oil extract shampoo, followed by one of the finest Prench conditioners!”

“Oh!” Caesar suddenly exclaimed. “Do you still use that herbal mask you were telling us about last time?”

For once, Blueblood didn’t look pissed about being interrupted. “I do, actually. It's an herbal mint facial masque. I put it on the moment I get out of the shower. I definitely recommend it.” Without missing a beat, the Prince immediately slid back into his monologue. “After rinsing that off, I shave any unsightly whiskers and dab on a splash of aftershave. Without alcohol of course.”

Anon’s confusion at Blueblood’s need to clarify that must have been written on his face, because Golden leaned into the green unicorn’s ear and whispered, “Alcohol dries out your skin and coat. Makes you look older.”

“Then on goes my moisturizer, an anti-aging eye balm, and last but not least, a final moisturizing protective lotion! Then voilà!” Blueblood finished with a smile and a flourish, “I’m ready to start my day!”

Almost immediately the gathered stallions all started clopping their hooves together.

“I never get tired of hearing that,” said Golden.

“My colt, such dedication is what all true stallions strive for,” added Fancy.

Anon, meanwhile, was stunned. He felt like he’d once again been dropped into a brand new universe. Possibly onto his head.

‘What is wrong with these guys!?’

“Shall I go next?” Golden cried excitedly.

Anon wanted to cry out for them to take a recess; he was feeling thrown for a loop! He couldn’t take another, not now!

Blueblood smiled. “By all means.”

‘No, please NO!’

“Well, mine’s admittedly modeled after Blue’s. Except, a key difference is I don't use an ice pack at the start. You see, those odd, fluffy, Earth ponies in the North have been exporting this thing called ‘liquid nitrogen’...”

Anon was broken. The insane assault of the elaborate beauty routines these stallions went through every morning had mentally destroyed him. He didn’t even know there were that many ways to moisturize! That spa day kit really undersold what the average stallion did to himself.

“Impressive, very nice.” Caesar said to the recently finished Fancy. “Let’s hear Anonymous’ routine.”

Anon’s mind spun for a few moments, but the gears were too worn down to produce anything worthwhile. He just didn’t even have it in him to lie, now. “I just use Dr. Alkaline’s 18-in-1 Peppermint Castile Soap.”

The stallions all shared a worried look. “You, uh, already mentioned that,” Golden tentatively replied.

Anon could only shrug. “Cause that’s all I use.”

“For everything?” Fancy asked, aghast.

“Everything.” Anon had managed to stun the stallions into silence. Almost all of their faces were frozen in shock. The only sound in the room was the sound of Blueblood taking a sip from his wine glass.

Which he immediately proceeded to spit back out.

“BY MY LESSOR AUNT’S MILLENNIA OLD UNTRIMMED LEGBEARD!” With that, the dam was broken, and the wailing began. “I simply can’t imagine using the same product for both my coat and mane!”

“How has all your fur not fallen out!?” Fancy cried out in dismay.

Anon supposed this was to be expected.

‘Oh well, if this is how it all falls apart then this is how it all falls apart.’

But just as he was about to give up all hope, Anon noticed that one of the stallions wasn't freaking out. The one who’d originally asked you the question: Caesar. Instead of showing dismay, he was intently leaning towards him. “How can one product manage to do eighteen things at once?” he asked.

“Well, you don’t just use the concentrated soap,” Anon weakly answered. “You mix it with stuff you’d find in your kitchen.” He slowly started to tune out the sound of wailing stallions in favor of the one pony who actually seemed interested in what he was saying.

“Like what?” Caesar asked, bidding Anon to continue.

“Well, apple cider vinegar makes it into a great shampoo. Coconut butter makes it an excellent conditioner. Diluting it makes it a pretty great coatwash. Oh, and baking soda makes it into a decent toothpaste.”

“You can really do all that with it?”

Golden’s sudden interruption nearly made Anon jump out of his seat. It seemed that he’d somehow managed to re-entice all of the previously horrified stallions. Blueblood, Fancy, and Golden, who were previously all but rolling around on the floor in agony, now mirrored Caesar—leaning in, and intently focusing on what he was saying.

Feeling somehow even more put on the spot, Anon’s answer comes out shakily. “Well, uh, yeah. You can even use this as a makeup remover too. It's way better than that Original Oakley A’s crap. That stuff’s basically just cheap coatwash.”

“That’s amazing!” Blueblood shouted, “You sound like one of the stalchemists of old!”

‘Did... did he seriously just portmanteau ‘stallion’ and ‘alchemist’ to make ‘stalchemist’?’

“Like the old stories of Starswirl in his lab!” Fancy added.

‘Jesus Christ. He fucking did, didn’t he?’

The sheer indignation Anon felt at such a disgusting phrase puts the wind back under his metaphorical wings. “Still too scary for you?”

Blueblood huffed and puffed, as stallions do. “I think I can speak for ALL of us when I say you had us a little worried at first. But, it sounds like a quality product. This, Dr. Alkaline, must know what he’s doing.”

Anon’s mind’s eye drifted back to the wall of text that was the soap’s label. Yeah, the dude either knew exactly what he was doing, or was completely insane.

Feeling a little cocky, he dialed up the snark. “Maybe you should give it a try? It's nice to not need to buy 45 different things.”

Blue scoffed at him. “Ha! Preposterous. I simply couldn’t live without my herbal mask.”

Anon cocked an eyebrow. “You only started using it recently, right? Seems like you were getting along just fine before it.”

Blueblood started blushing furiously as the gathered stallions all burst into laughter. It put a feeling in Anon’s heart he hadn’t felt for quite some time. The warm feeling of a group of guys, just laughing their asses off at what he'd said.

“I just didn’t know what I was missing, is all!”

As far as the unflappable Count Caesar could judge, they were about an hour into the wine and cheese ‘hour,’ and it showed no signs of stopping. But that was no surprise. The idea of a wine and cheese hour was always just a formality—an excuse. Fitting, then, that at this point the facade had more or less been completely discarded. The other stallions had all abandoned the idea of tasting wines and cheeses, and had instead opted toward simply drinking from the bottles.

All except for himself, of course.

A proper stallion must be measured in all things, especially his drinking. He’d forgive his friends for falling short of that lofty ideal, though. Especially Mr. Anonymous, who was presently engaged in quite the titillating conversation! “Say, Blue, how’s it feel to be a part of the unshorn gang?”

Blueblood, understandably, looked at the stallion with abject confusion. “Unshorn? Oh! You mean my fetlocks?”

Anonymous nodded enthusiastically. In response, Blueblood looked down at his hoof, as if he hadn’t considered that anyone might notice. The count took a moment to briefly check on his own as well. As expected, his gray hooves were as finely shorn as ever. Prim and proper; a far cry from those two shaggy miscreants.

“I’m not sure. Rook certainly seems to like them, but I’ve nearly knocked myself out tripping over them!”

Anonymous grimaced and sucked in his breath through his teeth. “Yeeeeeeeeeeah. But it sure does drive the gals wild. I’ve been growing them out since the tournament and they seem to really dig that rugged look.” Anon, seemingly at nothing, suddenly barked out a laugh. “Ha! Hey wait a minute, if they like the look of a working stallion so much, why do they hate it so much when we get a job?”

Both of the stallions fell into hysterics at that revelation, and Caesar stifled a small chuckle of his own, before a tap on his withers called his attention, prompting him to turn toward the culprit. “What is it, Golden?”

Caesar's old friend gave him a jolly smile. “You did good keeping your cool back there.”

‘Ah, he must mean when Anonymous started talking about his soap.’

“Just because I was as shocked as all of you doesn’t mean I needed to express it. Honestly, you all could learn a thing or two about being more discreet.”

In a rare sign of humility, Golden could not meet his gaze. “Yeah, I guess you’ve got us on that one.” Clearly eager to shift the subject, he pointed to the still laughing Anonymous. “But, seriously, look how much he’s loosened up since. Before he was hardly drinking at all! I think it's safe to say you being in his corner saved his evening.”

‘Hm.’

He honestly hadn’t noticed. But that’s what had always made Caesar and Golden such a good team.

“Perhaps we’ll be able to get some gossip out of him now.”

Golden smiled, positively deviously. “That’s my stallion!”

“And that’s why I’m thinking of trimming them down again. It's just, so uncomfortable to have long fetlocks in socks, ya know?” Anonymous the Unicorn said. Honestly, he was having a great time! He was feelin' good; he had a little wine in him, and these guys hadn’t asked him about work once!

“By my Aunt!” Blueblood cried, “Long fetlocks IN socks!? Have a little self-respect, stallion!”

“Are you kidding?! Listen, Blue, any “shame” I’d feel from “debasing” myself like that, is nothing compared to what I can get Pike and Cut to do just so they can see me like that.”

The Prince looked utterly stupefied. “I never thought about it that way...”

Anon felt a pony take a seat next to him on the couch; he bet it was Fancy, returning from the restroom. “My, my, did I hear that right? Mr. Independent went and got himself a herd?” came Fancy’s cheeky voice.

Anon shifted his posture so he could address either stallion equally, unintentionally leaving himself sitting like a human. He was pretty sure Fancy was joking, so he didn’t lay on the indignation. Yet. “Heeeey, what’s that supposed to mean?”

Fancy chuckled into his hoof, confirming Anon’s suspicions. “Nothing, nothing. It's just that last time we met, you gave off the impression you were the kind of stallion who’d prefer to play the eternal bachelor.”

‘Hmm, I guess to an outsider, I do seem to fit the stereotypical strong independent stereotype to a T. You know, the gals and I could probably make a pretty good bit out of that…’

“I just hadn’t really found the right mares yet,” Anon responded with a shrug.

The sound of laughter heralded Golden and Caesar moving to a couch closer to them, and joining the conversation. “Oh I know some guys who’d hate you for saying that!” Golden japed.

Anon was about to question why, when suddenly several, mostly repressed memories of Jargon rose to the surface. Memories of her repeatedly saying something about how he’d quit his job once he found the right mares to settle down with.

“Oooh, uh, yeah. Poor choice of words.”

That just made Golden laugh harder. Caesar had quite a chuckle himself before speaking up. “On the topic of your refusal to settle down, how’s being one of the most influential writers in Canterlot?”

‘What? Bologna! Was that some sad attempt at buttering me up?’

With a peeved hoof pointed at Golden, Anon’s reply was fairly indignant. “How exactly does that work when someo-pony, in this room didn’t even know who I was?”

If Caesar was fazed by his jab though, not an inch of it showed on his face. “Debates about your identity not-withstanding, nopony can deny your influence.”

“He’s right,” Golden chimed in, “I may have been wrong about who you were, but I’ve still been an avid reader!”

“At this rate, most stallions in Canterlot are, I’d wager,” Fancy finished.

With every statement, Anon felt himself sinking further and further into the couch.

‘Jesus, no pressure I guess. This must be what it feels like to be Cut.’

To make matters worse, he could tell where this line of conversation was going.

“And that’s why,” Fancy continued, “I’d like you to have a look at these.” He turned around to look over the back of the couch, and the familiar sound of TK activating was the prelude to the sound of shuffling saddlebags.

‘Oh God, he’s gonna ask my opinion on something! Shit!’

Based on some unspoken understanding, Blueblood wasted no time in clearing a spot on the table, pushing aside everything from plates, to glasses, to bottles. Everyone at the table was positively giddy with excitement as Fancy waited for Blueblood to finish, giggling like highschool girls. Not wanting to stand out, Anon put on a big smile and hoped it didn’t look as forced as it felt. Eventually Fancy decided the space that had been cleared was large enough, and his saddlebags drifted over the couch and settled on the table.

Looking at the gathered ponies, and grinning ear to ear, he addresses them with gravitas unfitting for a room of five guys. “What I have brought today is something very special. Working prototypes for TWO outfits from my upcoming Spring line!”

An auspicious murmur rose up amongst the stallions, and for once, Anon’s participation was genuine. Fancy’s fashions were kind of a big deal, especially if those rumors about him collaborating with one of the Elements of Harmony were real.

‘This is almost too good to be true!’

“So that’s what you were hiding in those saddlebags! Can we try them on!?” Golden practically shouted in excitement.

Fancy, meanwhile, grimaced in a way that reminded Anon of a Mother telling her daughter she could not, in fact, have a pony for Christmas. “Well, you could. They would just hardly fit.”

“Why not?” Caesar asked as everyone exchanged confused glances. “We’re of standard build. Well, except Anonymous.”

“That’s just it, Anonymous is the only one who they’ll fit!”

Anon felt like his eyes were about to bulge out of his skull.

‘There is no fucking way this dude’s about to ask me to try that shit on.’

“How did that happen?” Golden asked with what Anon felt was an appropriate amount of disbelief.

Fancy unbuckled the straps of his saddlebags and started sliding the garments out as he gave one of the deepest sighs Anon had ever heard. “Ah, it was this whole mess. Rarity—” He caught Blueblood’s groan at the mention of Rarity, but it seemed the others either didn’t hear it or didn’t visibly care. “—was commissioned to make something for some big lad in Ponyville, and somehow his measurements got mixed up with measurements for our prototypes!”

By then, Fancy had fully slid the first outfit out of the bags, and it certainly looked like there was a whole lot of outfit in there. It really was probably around Anon’s size. “Unfortunately neither of us realized this until most of the fabric had already been cut. By then she decided we should try and finish these projects that none of my mannequins would fit, ‘for the challenge’.”

Fancy set the outfit in front of Anon while he went to unpack the other one. It seemed this first one had a leafy, floral theme. “And I’m sure you all know how mares can get when they feel like they’ve got something to prove,” the blue mustachioed stallion added with an eye roll.

Anon probably would have mumbled something in agreement if every neuron in his brain wasn’t currently occupied with desperately trying to come up with a convincing excuse to not do this.

“Cough—I told you so—cough,” Blueblood interjected.

‘I’m allergic to every kind of fabric known to ponykind? No, that's way too obvious.’

Anon was so lost in his own head that he hardly noticed Fancy scornfully scoffing back at Blue. “Blue, you need to end this foalish feud already. Miss Rarity is a wonderful mare!”

‘I don’t feel comfortable being the only one so dressed up? No, if the whole soap debacle was any indication, they’d just take the chance to dress up in their own stuff.’

Fancy had finished unpacking the second outfit by then. Out of the corner of his eye, Anon spotted a lot of colors on sky blue and, strangely, a lot less cloth to it than the previous ensemble.

“Bah! I’ve met mares like her dozens of times!” Blue scoffed. “The only reason she approached me was for my princeliness. She probably just wanted me to stud!”

“Oh come, now you’re just being irrational,” Fancy said in rebuke. “That’s been taboo since before we were born!”

‘Shit, if only ponies had cell phones, I could just call Pike to come and get me!’

‘…Actually, the trade off of giving ponies cell phones probably isn’t worth it.’

A trio of sudden, loud slams promptly demolished both Anon’s train of thought and the stallions’ argument.

Confusion was present on every face, as everyone tried to shake off the shock and started blearily looking around for the source.

SLAM! SLAM!

‘Goddamn, it sounds like someone’s trying to tear one of the windows off its hinges.’

SLAM! SLAM!

‘It really sounds like that, actually.’

Which meant this was the perfect chance to totally derail what Fancy was trying to do!

‘I’ve only got one shot, time to make it count!’

Feeling the power of Tricky Dick flowing through him, Anon shouted.

“Sounds like someone’s breaking in!”