With a flash of light and a ‘pop’ reminiscent of a Saturday morning cartoon sound effect, there was a unicorn standing in my living room. I checked the clock – Kimono was early, but that wasn’t surprising. She’d come alone, which was the only part that surprised me.
“Where’s everybod… everypony else?”
“They’ll be along shortly. They all wanted to go home to change first.”
“Speaking of changing, where’s your costume?”
“I’ll put it on after I’ve taken care of parking duty.”
I nodded. “Want a ride down to the mall?”
She shrugged. “It’s a nice evening. I can trot. But I wouldn’t mind some company.”
I scratched her behind the ears as I locked my front door. My pathetic attempt for a jack-o-lantern sat forlornly on my porch next to the door. I’d carved it to look like a derelict 1966 Mustang, but it had lost something in the translation. Still, it wasn’t completely horrible for a first-ever attempt at pumpkin carving. Just mostly.
It was only a quarter of a mile to the mall at the end of my block, which is where I’d requested all my guests park for the party, so as not to inconvenience my neighbors with cars parked in front of their houses – not that they ever showed me the same courtesy. One former neighbor had even had a guest who blocked my driveway. I hadn’t shed any tears when the bank finally foreclosed her mortgage. After two years of vacancy, new neighbors had moved in and I liked them. They were quiet. They didn’t mind my business and I didn’t mind theirs.
That was another reason I’d requested my guests park at the mall – it meant my neighbors wouldn’t need to know I was hosting a party. Otherwise at least two of them would invite themselves over – one would make comments like ‘wow, that’s a lot of ponies’ while the other would bring cookies, or popcorn, or chips, while silently judging my life choices. The first was lonely and nosey, while the second was also nosey, but wrapped it in concern or generosity.
My hand settled on Kimono’s withers as we walked down the block. Ponies were more inclined to express their feelings through physical contact, and she had no objections to me resting my hand on the soft hairs of her shoulders. The clip clop of hooves on pavement brought several neighbors rushing to their windows, no doubt expecting an Amish horse and buggy, not a purple unicorn.
Of all the ponies from the car wash, Kimono was the one I interacted with the least. As the owner, she worked longer hours than the others, often staying well into the night doing paperwork after the business was closed for the evening and everypony else had gone home. She came off as more prim and proper than her employees, but I’d seen her cut loose from time to time. She knew how to have fun; she just didn’t know how to squeeze it into her schedule.
Even in her downtime, she continued to work, as she’d volunteered to teleport the guests from where they’d parked to my house. The lot behind the mall was empty as normal, and I directed Kimono as to where I wanted everypony to park. A second later I was standing next to the unicorn in my living room again.
“This is my designated teleport spot. Make sure nopony stands here or it’ll be really unpleasant for all parties involved.”
I nodded and quickly used velvet rope to block off that corner of my living room. She was gone by the time I was done, winking back to the parking lot to keep an eye out for ponies.
With guests on the way, I placed a couple of phone calls to make the final arrangements, finished hanging up the Halloween decorations, and then I finally put on my own costume. I’d waited until the last minute to put it on because it was bulky. I’d spray-painted the biggest box I could find white, then glued handles to two of the flaps. Most of my pony friends were earth ponies, and I’d picked the scariest thing to all of them – a refrigerator. Specifically, an empty fridge. Earth ponies prided themselves on their ability to grow crops and make food. To them, an empty refrigerator was a sign of gross incompetence, starvation, and icy death. I wasn’t clear on the details of that last part, but it had something to do with pony mythology.
With my costume making sitting impossible, I walked around the house, double and triple-checking that everything was ready for the party. It was that or pacing, which was just as unproductive.
It was my first time hosting a party for ponies… or really anyone, ever. I’d had so much fun at Minty’s Christmas party I’d decided to throw a Halloween/Nightmare Night party for my equine friends, with a prize for the pony with the best costume. I was genuinely excited to see what they’d all come up with – especially Toola Roola, soon-to-be-famous artist.
I turned the TV on, followed by the DVD player. I had a series of Scooby Doo movies ready to go for background noise: Scooby Doo Meets The Boo Brothers, Scooby Doo And The Reluctant Werewolf, Scooby-Doo! Mask of the Blue Falcon, and lastly, Scoob! I had more Scooby movies, if needed, but I highly doubted we’d get through all four of these before the party wrapped up.
Finally, there was another ‘pop’ from my living room and I rushed in to find Kimono standing there with the Creams and Petunia Paleo.
“Oh, nice costume!” Coconut Cream pulled on one of the handles, revealing that the shelves inside were bare. “It…it’s empty!”
I did my best impression of an evil cartoon character’s laugh and Coconut whimpered. I cut the laugh off right as I was really getting into it, and scratched Cee-Cee behind her ears instead. The filly rubbed against what little was visible of my legs under my costume, butting her head against me like a cat. Sadly, she hadn’t dressed like a cat, instead she was wearing what appeared to be a cherry costume.
Her parents, Whipped Cream and her husband Butter Cream, had brought homemade desserts for the party, which I put in the real refrigerator, which I assured Cee-Cee was full of party food. I’d picked up a large salad bowl and several fruit trays in advance. I made a mental note to send all the rabbit food home with the ponies.
Petunia, meanwhile was silent as she took in all the decorations – I’d anticipated her coming, so I’d sprinkled dinosaur skeletons amongst human and pony skeletons. Her costume for the occasion was a dinosaur, of course. This time she’d chosen to be a Parasaurolophus walkeri. Out of all the dinosaur costumes I’d seen her wear in the time I’d known her, this one fit the overall build of a pony best. The fact that she looked like Ducky from The Land Before Time was the icing on the cake. “Yup, yup, yup.”
She responded with, “Yep, yep, yep!”
Kimono and the Creams looked at us like we were insane. Kimono took the opportunity to remove herself from the equation, teleporting back to the mall parking lot.
I finally took a look at what the elder Creams were wearing. “Okay, I give up. What are you supposed to be?”
Butter Cream chuckled and laid down on the floor. His wife climbed on top of him, and Cee-Cee jumped on top of both of them.
“I’m the ice cream.”
“I’m the whipped cream.”
“And I’m the cherry on top!”
Together they formed an ice cream sundae.
“Oh, that’s clever.”
“Family spirit!”
If this was a preview of what was to come, I was going to have a hard time picking a winner.
“Toola came up with the idea.” Cee-Cee bounced off her parents, making their hindquarters jiggle in turn as she bounced off their flanks on her way back to the ground.
“Where is Toola Roola, anyway?”
“She’ll be around. There’s a craft store in the mall, and she got distracted and went inside.”
“That doesn’t surprise me. I look forward to seeing what she’s dressed up as. If she made the three of you look this …delicious… I can’t wait to see what she’s saved for herself.”
Cee-Cee giggled uncontrollably. “I know what she’s planning, but I’m sworn to secrecy.”
This is either a very good sign, or a very bad sign.
Flitter was the next of the guests to arrive, complete with her twin sister, Cloudchaser. Both had sprouted horns from their foreheads, as they dressed up like the princesses of the day and night – I couldn’t remember their names, but I knew that alicorns were important ponies. What most impressed me about their costumes was that their hair was blowing in an ethereal breeze, and there were even stars twinkling in Flitter’s mane and tail.
“How are you doing that thing with your hair?”
Cloudchaser answered. Even though I knew Flitter better, it seemed Cloudchaser was the dominant twin when they were around one another. “A little pegasus magic. It’s an easy trick, but it’s a lot of effort to keep up with it all the time. The princesses are so good with it that it’s subconscious. Of course, they’ve had centuries to work on their technique.”
“It’s really cool.”
“Your princess thanks you, for thou art a creature of the night, one of the few knaves who appreciates it.” Flitter grinned. “You shall be spared from the wrath of Nightmare Moon. The rest of you shall bow before me!”
Cloudchaser nudged her sister with a wing. “You’re getting into character a little too much there, Flit.”
“Does thou wanteth to win this plebian competition or not, sis?”
Cloudchaser looked around nervously. “I just don’t want word to get back to Princess Luna. She doesn’t really grasp the nuances of parody. As a Wonderbolt, I have to interact with her periodically and I’d prefer if she didn’t hate me.”
I nodded. “I know this may be shocking, but I’m not exactly a very important person.” I paused for dramatic effect and lowered my voice to a whisper. “I don’t really hang out with royalty – pony or otherwise. So your secret’s safe with me.”
Cloudchaser made some beeping noises and pointed a hoof at me. “Ooooh, my irony detector just went off. I have a hunch you’re going to eat those words.”
I laughed. “I’m an average man living an average life. I’ve done some interesting things in my time, but nothing worth writing a book about. Nobody would want to read about my exploits.”
Flitter butted in, “Thou wouldst be surprised, fair subject. Humans are the current fad in Equestria right now. A book about your daily routines, the very things you find so mundane, would likely land on the bestseller list, just for the sheer novelty alone. Biographies of human actors, politicians, and athletes are quite popular now, but nobody’s really written something from an average human’s perspective, and it would stand out from a crowd of people exploiting their fame to try and stay relevant.” She shrugged. “I’d read it, at the very least.”
“You flatter me.”
“It pleases thy princess to be the first to compliment such an ordinary peon.”
“When you get sealed in the moon for a thousand years, I’m not visiting you, sis.”
“Your princesses don’t have jurisdiction on Earth, and parody is protected speech. There would be law firms fighting to take Flitter’s case. Granted, they’d also be the only ones who’d make money, but you’d be vindicated in the end. So at most, you’d only spend three or four years sealed in the moon while the case was tied up in the courts. I just wouldn’t go back to Equestria after that.”
Flitter shrugged. “Why would I want to, anyway? I’ve gotten used to all the creature comforts humans have. Going back would mean giving up any semblance of technology.” She laughed. “If anything, you should move to Equestria. You hate all these gadgets and gizmos. So why don’t you?”
“Et tu, Flitter? You sound like all the humans I know – they can’t fathom how I can live without a cellphone, GPS, or any of the other convenience devices everyone is so dependent on. But I’ll answer your question with one of my own: does Equestria have anyplace I can drive my Mustang?”
“Not yet. Considering that ponies are slow to embrace technology, I wouldn’t bet on there being paved roads in Equestria in your lifetime.”
“Then I’m staying here.”
“Me too.” Her primary feathers worked her phone and I heard a buzz from Cloudchaser.
“You texted me? I’m standing right next to you!”
Flitter giggled and dashed off, Cloudchaser in pursuit. If the royal siblings are anything at all like these two, Equestrian politics must get very interesting.
I continued mingling with my guests until there was another pop from the living room. This time I found Godzilla standing there. There goes my insurance premium. I couldn’t tell who was in there until she started talking, and even with as muffled as the voice was, there was no mistaking Minty for anypony else. Appropriate costume for the demolition mare – she causes more collateral damage than anyone I know.
“Which way to Tokyo?”
“I’d give you directions, Minty, but you get lost on the way to the kitchen.”
Thus far, Minty’s costume was the most mundane, and remained so until Bifröst showed up a few minutes later, sans costume.
“No costume?”
“It is being a surprise!”
“Okay. Judging isn’t for a few hours yet, so you have plenty of time to get ready.”
What I’d originally intended as a silly costume party for Halloween/Nightmare Night had snowballed into something bigger. None of my human friends were interested in coming, and even if they had, I could see each and every one of them showing up with the same unimaginative ‘I came as myself!’ costume. So I’d suggested that the ponies invite their friends. Some of whom I already knew, and some of whom I didn’t. Razzaroo and Sparkleworks were two of Minty’s friends that I’d hung out with previously, and they showed up together. I’d forgotten one very important thing: friendship was the very core of pony society. That meant ponies tended to have lots of friends. It also meant I was starting to feel inadequately prepared as more guests kept appearing.
Razzaroo was wearing a tire. That was her costume – an old Firestone tire that she’d wrapped around herself. Sparkleworks, however, had come as flames.
“Wheel and fire. Let me guess, you’re early cavepony inventions?”
They chuckled. “Nope! I’m the tire, and she’s the fire. Together we’re Hot Wheels!”
I walked into that one. I facepalmed for not seeing that pun coming a mile away.
“We were going to dress up as a match and a box, but then we found out Matchbox cars really did come in matchboxes originally, and it spoiled the joke.”
“Kudos on your research skills.” I gave them each a head pat. While the idea was creative, that pun’s not going to be enough to win. It may also force me to purge some Hot Wheels cars from my collection to cleanse this conversation from my memory…
I recognized fewer costumes, and for that matter the ponies wearing them, as the night wore on. Those who knew me best had chosen things they thought might win over the judge, though in Petunia’s case, the filly was always wearing dinosaur costumes even when it wasn’t Halloween. Those who didn’t know me had come dressed as everything from Pokémon to Disney princesses. I felt bad for the ponies in the Pikachu and Squirtle costumes, as Cee-Cee and Petunia kept throwing balls at them and trying to ‘choose’ them. My sole experience with the game was when an ex handed me her phone back when we were dating and told me to catch her something while she was driving. I learned that day that takes a lot of balls to play Pokémon like I do. I didn’t catch a darned thing for her. Still, the franchise was a cultural phenomenon and I’d absorbed some details over the years simply from pop culture osmosis.
With several dozen guests present, I asked in the raspiest voice I could manage, “Do you like Scooby movies?” Like me, many ponies weren’t fans of the horror genre, and my Scream reference went over their heads. But they responded overwhelmingly positively to the question, so I pressed play and Scooby Doo Meets The Boo Brothers started playing.
“I’ll scare you, Scooby Doo, and Shaggy too, before I’m through…”
Coconut Cream and Petunia Paleo huddled together on the couch and turned their attention to the big screen television. They were the only foals in attendance, which made Toola’s absence all the more noticeable.
I refilled the chips and pretzels, and added more beverages to the refreshment table. There was no shortage of things to keep the host busy, and no shortage of ponies showing off their costumes.
Surprise had finally arrived – she had no costume, and when I pointed that out to her she flattened her ears. I hated to see her upset, so I just said, “Well, on the plus side, I was surprised by your lack of a costume.” She perked up at that, then sat on the couch to watch Scooby with the fillies. She was more reserved than normal, and I made a mental note to check that she was okay before she left the party. Even the happy-go-luckiest of ponies can get down in the dumps.
The fillies snuggled up next to Surprise when one of the movie’s ghosts took center stage. “Heed my warning: leave this place or suffer the consequences.” Coconut even put her hooves over her eyes to cover them.
The fillies are in good hooves, and hopefully spending some time with them will cheer up Surprise.
More ponies had arrived, and I found the cast of Speed Racer splitting away from one another. Speed Racer trotted toward me while Racer X, Pops Racer, and a unicorn who was somehow simultaneously portraying both Spritle and Chim-Chim took up positions along the wall. I looked at the latter’s costume. Chim-Chim’s hands were connected to Spritle’s back, allowing the pony’s front legs to be the child’s and her rear legs to be the chimp’s. Quite clever!
Kimono disappeared and reappeared less than five seconds later with a bunch of superheroes.
I should’ve had a group costume option.
“Thank you for the party.” Speed Racer was a pink pegasus that I didn’t recognize, yet still looked somewhat familiar regardless.
“You’re welcome.”
“I’m Ploomette.”
“Right! The RC Cola pony from Saturday Night Live.”
Every conversation in the room came to a screeching halt at my words, and more than one hoof found its way to a forehead. The only thing missing was a comedic record scratch for effect. With Surprise in the room, the absence of such a sound effect was glaring by its omission. The pegasus was still sitting on the couch watching Scooby with the fillies. She didn’t even look up at that – that’s the kind of low-hanging fruit that she would never pass up under normal circumstances.
Ploomette cleared her throat. “Uh, yes, that’s me all right, the Royal Duchess of Crown Cola.” She bowed, and quickly grabbed a can of RC from the table and cracked it open with a primary feather. “Will there be pizza? Pizza goes great with RC. Hint, hint.” She flattened her ears. “Please tell me this isn’t one of those parties with the funny-looking horse derves.”
“Uh, no hors d’oeuvres, but there’s a tray filled with cheese and crackers on the table.” I bowed, not knowing if that was correct etiquette or not, though I’d probably already blown any chance of being in her good graces. “Sorry about my, uh, rude greeting. And yes, there will be pizza later.”
“As long as there’s pizza, all is forgiven. Your media has made me a popular satirical target, but parody or not, they’re not actually wrong, as I do enjoy soda and pizza. That said, I’m not exactly used to being the subject of constant ridicule yet. Not many ponies take potshots at our leaders in Equestria.”
“People fear what they don’t understand. Ponies are new, so they’re easy targets. It doesn’t help that a lot of the satire goes over your heads due to nuances of the English language and the general naivety of Equestrians.”
“We aren’t naïve.”
“Perhaps not in Equestria, but I’d be as lost there as most ponies are here. Even though I like to think I have a leg up on most humans.”
“Fear not, knave! Your princess is here to set things right. Stand down, duchess.”
Did somepony spike Flitter’s cider or is she actively trying to get herself in trouble?
The real duchess nodded her head and trotted in the opposite direction, deferring to the fake princess.
“A princess always trumps a duchess.”
I patted her head. “You’re crazy.”
“So are you.” She licked my hand. “That’s why thy princess liketh you. That and your fingers. I shall take you back to Equestria to be my royal back scratcher and ear scratcher.”
“I thought you didn’t want to go back.”
“I don’t. But thy princess does!”
“Fine, fine.” I scratched her ears and she finally stopped digging herself a deeper pit. Of course, offering ear scritches was a good way to have a line form as other guests also wanted their ears scratched. Forget interdimensional trade, all ponies want is someone with opposable digits to scratch all those hard to reach places. If not for the fact so many people are willing to do this for free, I could probably quit my job and make a living doing this.
Kimono had finally put on her costume, and I caught a glimpse of it as she teleported in with more ponies. She’d wrapped herself in a few of the green felt mats model railroaders used to simulate grass, and had glued hundreds of Micro Machines to miniature roadways, and had included some fairly scale-accurate trees and buildings.
That’s unique.
This time Kimono didn’t teleport away, and she indicated that everypony that she knew was coming had finally arrived except for Toola Roola.
Kimono spotted Razzaroo and Sparkleworks and made her way over to greet them as I got mobbed by superheroes. Wonder Woman, an ice-themed hero I didn’t recognize, Starfire, and Aquaman to be precise. The ponies inside the costumes introduced themselves as Flitterheart, Snowcatcher, Sunny Rays, and Dewdrop Dazzle, respectively. Rainbow Flash had made their costumes, and they indicated a unicorn mare across the room who was appropriately dressed as The Flash. They were all from a hotel in New Jersey called the Mareiott, as was the Duchess and her entourage. Rainbow had apparently also made all the Speed Racer costumes as well. I should have had a best costume designer award too.
“This is a long way to come for a little costume party.”
“We haven’t seen Bifröst in months.”
That at least explains who they heard about it from.
Minty trotted past. “If you’re still looking for Tokyo, she went that way.” I pointed in the direction that Kimono had gone and Godzilla roared in thanks. I really should keep the two of them separated or Kimono may end up looking like… well, like Tokyo in a Godzilla movie.
Snowcatcher’s costume turned out to be an obscure hero known as Icemaiden, who’d later been rebooted as Glacier. Ice-themed metahumans tended toward villainy for stereotypical symbolic reasons.
My hands were occupied, scratching Snowcatcher and Flitterheart behind their ears while making small talk with them. As I conversed with them I got to know each of them a little better – Lulu Luck had picked Batman because she loved all his gadgets. Feathermay had dressed up like Hawkman because she was a bird enthusiast. Snowcatcher even used her magic to create a virtual Gentleman Ghost to be her nemesis. Sunny Rays had sun in her name, so of course a solar-powered superhero was her costume of choice. Dewdrop, who preferred to be called Dewey, was a water mage, hence she’d come as Aquaman. Diamond Rose was dressed as Superman, and the only explanation given was the rolling of eyes. Poor Lily Blossom was dressed as Krypto the Superdog, making me wonder how exactly she’d ended up as a pet.
With almost all of the guests present, I turned my attention to the clock. Judging time was drawing nearer, and Toola Roola was still missing, Surprise didn’t have a costume, and Bifröst hadn’t yet changed into hers.
The doorbell rang, and Flitter opened it before I could get there.
“Oh my gosh! You’re adorable!”
My Mom almost dropped the dozen pizza boxes she was holding as she gushed over Flitter. Wait until she sees everypony else.
I grabbed the leaning tower of pizza so Mom could use both arms to glomp Flitter, who seemed to be enjoying the attention. She even dropped the fake archaic speech for a few merciful moments.
I’d ordered a dozen extra-cheese pizzas from my favorite pizza shop, but they didn’t offer delivery. They would’ve made an exception for me, but my house was almost twenty miles from their restaurant. The owners had offered to drop the food off after closing up for the night, but that would’ve been too late, not to mention way out of their way. Instead I’d asked my Mom to pick them up and she’d happily agreed, thrilled at the prospect of finally meeting ponies for the first time upon delivering the food.
I set the pizzas on the refreshment table and slices started disappearing immediately. Lolligiggle, the pegasus I’d met at the Mobil station, was dressed in a simple bunny costume. With only ears and a cottontail, she’d been outdressed by nearly every other pony in attendance, yet somehow she’d come away looking cuter than anypony else I’d yet seen. There was something elegant in her costume’s simplicity. She might not win the ‘best costume’ award but she’s rocking ‘most adorable’ tonight.
Mom couldn’t stay long, though that didn’t stop her from getting a hug from almost everypony in attendance before leaving. I could see the wistful look in her eyes as she got hugs from Petunia Paleo and Coconut Cream in turn.
I absentmindedly scratched the ear of the pony nearest me as I watched Mom interacting with the fillies. “I’m going to hear about this next time I see her.”
“What do you mean?”
“She’s going to remind me that she doesn’t have any grandchildren yet.” I chuckled, then added, “Though I bet she’d settle for grandponies at this point.”
“Do you want kids?”
I nodded. “I just never found the right girl to start a family with, and well, no adoption agency is going to let a single guy adopt a child.”
“Hmn.”
A pony is thinking. This never ends well for me. I turned to look at just which pony I was conversing with. To my amazement, it was the Duchess. I immediately withdrew my hand from her scalp. “I’m sorry, your majesty, your highness.” I hastily bowed. “Uh, we don’t have royalty, so I’m not sure how to address you.”
“My full title is, ‘Her Grace, Duchess Ploomette of the House of Hurricane, Equestrian Permanent Representative to the United Nations, and Equestrian Consul General of New York City’ but that’s a mouthful. Most ponies just say ‘your grace’ and that’s good enough.” She giggled. “There’s no need for such formalities. I’m your guest tonight, and furthermore, you’re not my subject.” She dropped her voice to a conspiratorial whisper, “Besides, I like getting ear scritches. Sneaking up on someone when they’re distracted is the only way I ever get them.”
I could see her honor guards glaring at me from around the room. I chuckled nervously as she butted her head against my hand, insisting I continue.
“I believe you have a saying here on Earth. Something about scratching each other’s backs, yes? It conveys doing a favor for someone in exchange for another favor. Keep scratching and I think I can solve your problem, and one of mine at the same time.”
I had a really bad feeling about that. “Then wouldn’t I technically be doing you two favors?”
She chuckled nervously. “Very astute of you. Politics is an interesting game. Let’s just say I’ll owe you one. Possibly several depending on the outcome…”
“You’re not inspiring confidence here.”
“The duchy will cover all expenses, including damages, should there be any.”
“Really, really not inspiring confidence.”
“I need to talk to the princesses, but let me see what I can do.”
“About what?”
“I’ll take care of all the details – don’t worry about a thing!”
I immediately started worrying. Especially since I hadn’t gotten a straight answer out of her. What could she possibly mean? We were talking about kids; it’s not like she can just magic me up a child or even a foal. Whatever she’s about to do, one thing’s for sure: no good will come of this. I looked at the clock – I needed a distraction to take my mind off whatever Ploomette was going to do, so I pulled out the custom water trough I’d custom ordered from an Amish carpenter at the farmer’s market.
Of course I had an audience, and several earth ponies volunteered to move the trough to wherever I wanted it. Which was outside on the patio. Most of the ponies knew what they were looking at, and I sincerely hoped it wasn’t offensive to any of them. It was the most convenient and appropriate prop for what I had planned though. After making a great show of hooking up the hose as a decoy, I ran back inside the house and grabbed the water jugs I’d stocked in the fridge. Once the trough was filled, I dumped in four dozen apples.
As an added bonus, I didn’t even need to explain the concept of bobbing for apples – Equestria had their own similar version. As a second bonus, being quadrupeds, I didn’t need to tie anypony’s arms behind their backs.
I wasn’t prepared for Ploomette to step up to the trough. The crowd of ponies parted to let the Duchess through. I tried, and failed, to think of a single politician on Earth that would do something like this, unless surrounded by a camera crew as a gimmick to get more votes. Especially because Ploomette wasn’t good at it. At all. It took her seven tries before she finally managed to get an apple, despite ponies being much more used to using their mouths to do things than humans were.
The next pony to step up to the trough was Dewdrop, the water mage. Use of magic was cheating, but she couldn’t resist putting on a show. The water splashed out of the bucket, and she juggled the apples, and the water, for everypony’s amusement. There was stomping of hooves, and then everything splashed back into the trough and she took her turn normally.
My friends had opted to hang back and let the ponies I was unfamiliar with go before them. Flitterheart and Lulu Luck even snagged apples on their first tries, with appreciative cheering from the crowd. Snowcatcher impaled an apple on her horn, which wasn’t technically against the rules. ‘No magic’ wasn’t the same as ‘don’t use your horn’ so we let it slide, just like the apple slid down her face as it split in half.
Snowcatcher licked her lips and as much of her face as her tongue could reach. “Applesauce, anypony?”
Everypony chuckled at that as Plumsweet took a try. Everypony laughed harder when she came up with three apples in her mouth simultaneously.
I expected Surprise to try her luck at the game, and half-expected her to come up with a pear or banana, but she kept watching Scooby Doo with Cee-Cee. Petunia had joined the queue to take a try though.
Instead it was Ploomette’s pegasus guard that stepped up; the one who’d dressed as Pops Racer. She dipped her head in the water and started drinking from the trough like a horse. “Me Swoop was so thirsty.”
Her other winged guard, the one with leathery bat wings, took her place at the trough. Echolocation should be considered cheating. Searchlight emerged triumphantly with an apple in her mouth.
Minty removed her Godzilla head and dunked her whole head into the trough.
“Somepony make sure Minty doesn’t drown.”
There was giggling from the mares who knew her, but Minty’s ears were underwater so hopefully she hadn’t heard my smart-alecky remark. Amazingly she came up with an apple on her first try. She also hadn’t tipped the trough over. Somehow all crises had been averted, and Minty enjoyed a crisp red delicious apple.
Ploomette practically shoved her unicorn guard to the trough – the one who’d dressed as both Spritle and Chim-Chim.
The unicorn just looked at the apples bobbing in the water with revulsion. She continued standing there, unmoving, unblinking, unyielding. “You can lead a pony to water, Duchess, but you can’t make her bob for apples.”
“Come on, Starbeam! It’s fun. If I can do it, you can cut loose and have some fun too.”
The pink mare looked as if ‘fun’ was a concept she’d heard of, once, a long time ago, and promptly dismissed as a frivolous waste of time. With a flash and pop, she teleported back to where she’d been standing.
Next up was Petunia, who wasn’t tall enough to reach into the trough without resting her forelegs on the rim. She leaned over, further and further because there was less water and fewer apples than when we’d started playing. By the time I realized her dinosaur costume moved her center of gravity further forward than she was used to, it was too late to do anything about it except watch the splash.
Whipped Cream dipped her head into the water, emerging with Petunia by the nape of the filly’s neck like a mother cat with a kitten. Parasaurolophus parts floated in the trough with the remaining apples.
I dashed to the bathroom and came back with a couple of towels, which I wrapped Petunia in. It was late October and the evening temperature had dipped into the upper 40s. I wasn’t taking any chances that the filly would get sick. I carried her into the house and drew her a nice warm bath, Whipped Cream hot on my heels.
I looked over my shoulder, expecting to see Surprise with an easel and a sketch of a bathtub. To my surprise, I found myself disappointed that she wasn’t. The pegasus was really off her game, because that was an easy one right over home plate. Fruit hanging so low, that if it were any lower it would be dragging the ground.
I turned to go but Whipped Cream blocked my path. “Are you about to leave a filly unattended in a bathtub?”
“You’re here, she’s in good hooves. I have a party I need to get back to.”
“Everypony can survive without you for a little bit.”
“But I’m the host…”
“Yes, and you’re dealing with a crisis. Everypony will understand.”
“I hardly consider this a crisis. A mild inconvenience, yes. I feel bad for Petunia because she’s missing the party and her costume is probably ruined.”
“It’s washable.” It was the first thing Petunia had said since falling into the trough. Her teeth weren’t chattering, which I was pretty sure was a good sign. She was blue, but that was her normal coat color, making it difficult to determine if she was suffering from hypothermia. “Hoof washable, cold water, drip dry.”
“It won’t be dry in time for the judging, but I’ve already seen you in it so you’re good. You won’t get to do the costume parade, though.”
“That’s okay. But could you help me get cleaned up, please? You don’t have any earth pony bathing aids. I want to get back to the party and you have hands.”
Whipped Cream nodded. “Only unicorns can truly scrub themselves well. Most ponies bath in pairs or even groups – even the unicorns. I’d help, but I’m not taking my costume off to get into the tub with her. Petunia’s right. This will go faster if you do it. Besides, if you want to have kids someday this is something you should really learn how to do.”
“Please?” Petunia looked up at me with those oversized pony eyes and I made the mistake of looking into them. I would’ve handed her my wallet if she’d asked me to.
I sighed and grabbed the bottle of Mane ‘n Tail shampoo, which if anyone asked, was in my house solely because they’d sponsored NASCAR driver Derrike Cope and StarCom Racing, and not at all because I’d been hanging out with ponies. I took off my bulky costume, since it impaired my movements, then lathered Petunia’s mane and the hairs of her coat. I worked my way down her back and barrel, then finally lathered her flanks and tail.
She dunked herself under the water to wash off the shampoo. When she surfaced she brought up each of her legs in turn and I lathered them up as well.
It hadn’t taken long at all. Barely ten minutes had passed – she was a little pony after all. I dried her off while Whipped Cream retrieved the filly’s bedraggled costume from the patio. I put it on a clothes hanger, and hung it over the tub to dry. I left my costume off – everypony had already seen it and I wasn’t eligible to win the contest since I was judging it. It was nice to have a full range of movement again.
Ponies weren’t as quick to dry as humans, and Petunia was still damp after I’d dried her off. I put a couple of towels down on my couch and she hopped onto one of them, while I draped the other around her like a blanket. Surprise and Coconut Cream snuggled against her, helping warm the filly up. Scooby Doo Meets The Boo Brothers had finished while I’d been giving Petunia a bath, so I put in the next Scooby movie, Scooby Doo And The Reluctant Werewolf.
“Tyler County, USA. A funny car race is in progress.”
I left Surprise and the fillies to watch the Scooby movie that had originally been intended to be a Wacky Racers film. I found the trough had been emptied of both apples and water, and had been brought back into my garage. Talk about courteous party guests!
There were still twenty-three minutes to go until I needed to start officially judging the costumes. Not that it was necessary, I’d been taking notes on their costumes all night. I had already ranked the costumes I’d seen, and it was going to take something pretty special to leap to the top. But the thing I knew everypony was waiting for was the costume parade.
I grabbed another slice of pizza, knowing that this would likely be the last chance I’d have to eat. Looking at the crowd, I started worrying that I might not have enough food – more ponies had shown up than I’d invited. That was my second slice, and I cut myself off – if there were leftovers later, I’d eat then.
Where did they all come from? I know who I can ask…
I found Minty going through my sock drawer. She looked up as I came in. “These are all boring socks! Where are the sparkly kind and the glow by night kind?”
“In your closet, where they belong.” I gave her a pat. “Who are all these ponies? How is your duchess among my guests?”
“You told Bifröst she could invite her friends from where she used to work. She worked at a hotel in New Jersey, and almost all of them came out for this party. They’re running the place on a skeleton crew, which isn’t actually a crew made up of skeletons. Duchess Ploomette is one of their investors.”
“You asked about the ‘skeleton crew’ thing, didn’t you?”
She blushed. “A crew of skeletons sounds really cool! I mean, it’s Halloween, so it would be really appropriate, too.”
Yeah, she totally asked. “If you like the idea of a crew of skeletons, you could always convince your coworkers to dress up as skeletons next year for Halloween.”
“Oh! Good idea!”
I left her rummaging through my boring socks. Part of my living room was still roped off and I grabbed an end of the rope and stretched it all the way across my living room. Voila, instant runway!
“The crowd is electrified!” Dracula was a bit overly optimistic in the movie.
An unenthusiastic, ‘Yay’ was the crowd’s response. Then Dracula got hit by a bolt of lightning and the crowd really went crazy with cheering.
I paused the DVD and Surprise and the fillies looked up. To my surprise, Petunia had changed into another dinosaur costume. I recognized the Ceratosaurus costume from when I’d first met her. It didn’t fit her quite as well as it had over a year earlier, and I could see why I hadn’t seen her wearing it recently. She was growing up and I needed no further proof of that than the ill-fitting costume. It was also wearing out, having been worn many times by the rambunctious filly. I patted her head. “Looks like you found a backup for the parade.”
“I had it in my saddlebags. I keep it as a backup for work but I think I’m going to have to replace it.” She stood up and it was easy to see why – in addition to a few stains and holes, there was a good inch and a half between the socks that served as the dinosaur’s feet and claws and the bottom of the costume’s legs. It also looked really tight around Petunia’s barrel. “And it did this when I put it on tonight.” She hiked the costume’s tail, revealing the seat had split open.
“Looks like the moon is full this Halloween.”
She stuck her tongue out at me and I picked her up. “I’m sorry you’re not having a very good night.” I gave her a hug and she nuzzled me. I took a seat on the couch next to her, and Petunia crawled onto my lap. I whispered into her ear and she perked up a bit – I’d given her the important task of announcing the start of the parade.
“Let’s get this party started!” Petunia shouted at the top of her lungs.
Everypony started lining up, but they all stepped aside to let Ploomette and her entourage go first. The Duchess paused, and somepony started playing the Speed Racer theme song.
“Here he comes, here comes Speed Racer…”
Ploomette strutted across my living room, stopped in front of the couch, and pulled her racing helmet off. “The Mach V was really powerful out there today. I can’t thank my crew enough for building such a perfect racecar.” She put the helmet back on and continued the rest of the way down the catwalk. She returned in the opposite direction to the show’s closing credits.
Her guards followed, one at a time. The unicorn needed prodding, and was the only one not to stop, instead stomping across the room and back as quickly as possible without galloping – had my living room been longer she probably would’ve run just to get it over faster. Starbeam’s apparently neither outgoing nor particularly friendly.
By going first Ploomette had set the stage for what was to come. The Creams went next, strutting next to each other, and stopping to combine into a sundae in front of me. I’d seen them do so earlier, but it was the first time anyone else in attendance had the opportunity to witness the Cream’s gestalt mode.
The twins went next, and their pause served to emphasize their hair blowing in a nonexistent breeze. They were followed by Razzaroo and Sparkleworks. Razz curled up inside the tire and Sparkleworks rolled her across the catwalk. The superhero team went next, and Snowcatcher’s magic provided each of them with a villain to ‘battle’ in front of me.
Lolligiggle hopped across the floor, pausing to wiggle her snout like a rabbit.
Kimono walked halfway down the catwalk and laid down. Once she was in place, Minty roared and stomped across the floor towards her target. Amazingly, Kimono trusted the clumsy mare to walk over her, carefully lining up her steps to land in the hoof-sized gaps in the city. Incredibly, Godzilla walked across Tokyo without causing any damage. Kimono wasn’t willing to risk Minty doing it again for the return trip, and instead joined her friend in strutting down the catwalk.
After everypony had shown off their costumes by walking down the catwalk I’d created, I stood up, still holding Petunia. Wardrobe malfunction or not, I wanted her to have a chance to strut her stuff. Ponies really liked parades. Petunia’s spirits picked up as I carried her down the runway, pausing where everypony else had stopped so she could let loose her best imitation of a roar. As Petunia was quick to point out, many predatory dinosaurs were more likely to make chirps like today’s birds than the roars associated with them in fiction, but Ceratosaurus was a more basal theropod, meaning most other theropod dinosaurs were more closely related to today’s birds than they were to Ceratosaurus. That meant that if any large predatory dinosaurs were capable of roaring, Ceratosaurus would be one the most likely candidates.
Once I put her down on the couch I cleared my throat. I’d known since seeing Kimono’s costume that it was going to take something really special to knock her out of the top spot, and nopony had quite managed to pull it off. “Attention, please. The winner of the contest is…”
“Wait!” Surprise interrupted. At least it sounded like Surprise, but it was Bifröst who trotted up to me. Then she unzipped her head and a Bifröst costume fell away to reveal a golden mane and white coat. “Surprise!”
I backed up. The Bifröst costume had been eerily accurate, and Surprise had perfectly mimicked Bifröst’s voice, accent, and broken speech pattern since arriving at the party hours previously.
A second Surprise approached, and I had a pretty good idea who would be inside that costume, explaining why Surprise had seemed so out of character all night – because she literally wasn’t herself. Indeed, Bifröst revealed herself from inside a Surprise costume. Because she wasn’t the actress Surprise was, she had opted to stay silent rather than blow their cover. “Are you being surprised?”
“Yes, very, very surprised. Those costumes are crazy accurate.”
“My friend Pinkie Pie makes them!” Surprise helpfully offered.
“Pinkie Pie sounds like an absolutely fascinating, and most likely terrifying, pony.”
“She was being one of my professors at the School of Shipping Friends.”
“Isn’t that the School of Friendship?” It was Surprise’s turn to be perplexed.
“Hey, you are having your hobbies, and Twilight is having hers. She really enjoys the shipping of friends.” She turned to me. “Are Surprise and I doing the winning?”
“I… I don’t know. This is an unexpected new element to the competition. I need to think.” I didn’t see that coming. You’d think that by now I’d be used to Surprise getting the drop on me… and everyone else.
“Amateurs.” My front door opened, and Toola Roola strode into the party like she was walking onto a yacht. She’d wrapped herself in tinfoil, with a red, white, and blue tribar sticking out of her back, and below her barrel. There was no mistaking her costume for anything other than the Ford Mustang galloping pony emblem. She even paused, as if expecting a photo to be taken, in as close to the ‘galloping’ position as she could manage while standing in one spot.
That’s just not fair. Talk about knowing your audience. Even if I deduct points for obviously trying to influence the judge, not to mention arriving at the last possible second, Toola’s still knocked it out of the park, as one would expect from an artist of her caliber. This is even better than the Surprise-Bifröst exchange, and that was top-notch with an added prank element to it.
“This is the best individual costume.” I handed the trophy to Toola Roola. “You have the best individual costume because you have one of the few individual costumes.” I pulled my wallet out of my pocket. Poor planning on my part means this is going to get expensive… “Taking that into consideration I present the awards for best group costumes. Cold, hard cash because it’s a lot easier to split up than a trophy. First place: Surprise and Bifröst. Second place: Godzilla and Tokyo. Third place goes to the cast of Speed Racer.” I felt bad that the best the out-of-towners managed to pull off was third place, but nopony could really argue with my rankings – my friends had legitimately outdone everypony else. Maybe they had an unfair advantage due to knowing me, or maybe it was just because Surprise and Toola Roola were hard to beat in the creativity department.
Author's Note
Story notes: https://www.fimfiction.net/blog/1000148/story-notes-costume-contest
