No Use Crying Over Spilled Milk
If any day of the week had to be the worst one, Cappuccino would pick Tuesday. Most ponies would pick Monday, where the weekend ended and all fun and free time died and withered away, never to be seen again until Friday. Sure, she couldn’t claim she hopped out of bed raring to go on Monday herself. But there was some residual happiness from a thoroughly enjoyed weekend that kept ponies in a better, quieter mood when they entered the café. Come Tuesday morning, however, they would have settled into a groggy, cranky mob of zombies who resented anything more cheerful than a funeral.
“–you mean to tell me that you are so utterly incompetent at your job that you don’t even know what you serve–”
Case in point, she had been standing at the counter with a very genuine apologetic look for the past ten minutes while Spoiled Rich ranted at her from the other side for the crime of failing to make her an apple cinnamon latte. It didn’t matter that it wasn’t on the menu, being a seasonal drink only available during the winter. Something so trivial wouldn’t stop her, no. In fact, she ordered one just the other day and had it made without any problems, and Cappuccino was wrongfully denying her!
Considering Cappuccino was the branch manager, one of two ponies who worked at the café, she was fairly confident that Spoiled didn’t get one. A quick glance towards her unicorn coworker, Chai Leaves, was met with a subtle shake of the head, confirming what she had already known. When Spoiled paused to take another breath, Cappuccino took the opportunity to interject.
“I apologize for the inconvenience, but we do not serve apple cinnamon lattes at this time.” Cappuccino wore an appropriately contrite expression with a smile that didn’t quite meet her eyes as she restated herself for the dozenth time. “If you take a look at what we currently offer, I’d be happy to serve you anything listed.” Plus a complimentary horseshoe sandwich, her mind tacked on as she gestured to the board above her head.
Spoiled turned her nose up with an indignant scoff that could make a mother-in-law envious. “Ugh, fine. Be that way. I expect you can make me a regular latte, can’t you? And make it snappy, you’ve wasted enough of my time.”
“Of course! One latte, coming up!” Biting her tongue from making a snappy comment, the light brown mare instead turned to the espresso machine, pressing one shot into a cup before adding the steamed milk in an intricate spiral, and finishing with a dash of cinnamon atop. Every time Spoiled came by, she did the same song and dance, requesting her favorite drink no matter how often she was told it wasn’t in season yet. Cappuccino found it was much easier to let her get it out of her system before getting Spoiled her usual coffee.
Not even sparing a glance at the design, Spoiled hammered it down like a sorority girl, setting the empty cup down on the counter with a click. “Adequate. I expect better tomorrow.”
She turned on her heel, trotting out towards the door. “Come along, dear, I don’t want to be stuck here longer than I have to be.” As she left, her husband moved up from behind her with an actual apologetic look, taking his by-then cold long macchiato in his hooves.
“I’m sorry about that, she just gets… cranky in the mornings. She’s much nicer after she’s properly woken up.” His weak smile disappeared with a yelp as he was dragged out by his tie, held between Spoiled’s teeth after she decided she had been waiting for him for too long.
“W-wait! We still need to pay for our—” His voice abruptly cut off as the door swung shut behind him. Cappuccino merely watched the two depart through the glass, the husband giving a striking resemblance to a dog being dragged by its leash. She marked the order down on a note and set it to the side for when Filthy returned in the afternoon to cover the bill. Business as usual.
Taking the moment between orders to catch her breath, Cappuccino could only wonder how her life choices had led her to this point. It was her fillyhood dream to be the reason ponies smiled in the morning, and she found her calling in brewing coffee. It’s not to say she doesn’t feel like she’s making a difference; after all, a Ponyville without caffeine was a very unhappy Ponyville, so her services were definitely appreciated. But is it so much to ask that they show that appreciation a little more often?! At least she had Chai, her adorable subordinate, to brighten her day.
The aforementioned unicorn was dutifully serving a mare, cheerful smile on her green face as her yellow mane bobbed up and down, jotting the order down before moving to make it. The sight made Cappuccino want to walk over and squish her cheeks, because Chai was a national treasure to be protected. Sure, Cappuccino was only a couple of years older than her, but it was so hard to not dote on her favorite (and only) coworker!
With that tangent having run its course, Cappuccino turned her attention to the next customer in line, Granny Smith. Beaming once more, she gave the signature greeting. “Welcome to Hoofbucks, my name is Cappuccino! What can I do for you today?” The young pink mare stepped up, her bouncy mane brushing the edge of the counter—
Cappuccino’s mouth fell to a neutral line as she stared at Pinkie Pie, the mare having appeared out of the blue. Or out of the pink, really. “Pinkie, you can’t cut in line. And second…” She pointed to a small placard beside the register, a picture of Pinkie circled and crossed out in red. “You’re not allowed to purchase caffeine anywhere within the limits of Ponyville.”
Pinkie rolled her eyes, blowing out a breath. “Pssh, that’s still a silly billy rule! I mean, come on. But that’s not what I’m here for today.” She planted her hooves on either side of the counter, leaning in until her wide blue eyes almost touched Cappuccino’s deadpan purple. “Do you have any bagpipes? It’s super duper zooper important!”
Cappuccino blinked, a rare show of surprise despite her familiarity with Pinkie. “Bagpipes.” She said slowly, dragging the word out. “Do I have bagpipes.”
Pinkie nodded enthusiastically, a faint metallic rattling coming from somewhere within her skull. Cappuccino couldn’t tell if she had imagined the sound or not.
After an understandably long pause, Cappuccino replied. “No, Pinkie. I don’t have bagpipes. We don’t carry bagpipes. This is a café. Where we sell coffee.” Each word was clearly enunciated, in a futile attempt to explain common sense to the mare.
With a slight frown, Pinkie leaned away, snapping her hoof—several ponies nearby winced at the sound, including Cappuccino—in dismay. “Aw, dang it! Guess I gotta check elsewhere. Thanks anyways, Cappy! See ya later, gator!” With one last departing wave, Pinkie pronked away on the hunt for her quarry: next stop, the mine.
A small headache building in her head, Cappuccino rubbed circles around her temple, wanting to pinch the bridge of her freckled snout. Just make it through today, she repeated as a mantra to herself. Something always went wrong on Tuesdays, barring few exceptions. It was getting to her like it always did, but she still had a job to do. So with a colossal effort of self-restraint, she exhaled quietly before straightening her posture, ready for the next customer.
With Pinkie having Pinkied, Granny Smith hobbled closer, peering at the board to decipher it. A smile back on her face, Cappuccino recited the greeting. “Welcome to Hoofbucks, my name is Cappuccino! What—”
“Ah, Celestia bless ya, missy.” Granny interrupted. Cappuccino’s eye twitched.
“—can I do for you today?”
The old mare squinted at the menu, rubbing her forehoof under her chin. “Well, dearie, ya could read out them tiny words for me. These old eyes ain’t what they used t’ be.”
Craning her neck back, Cappuccino read the menu out, one item at a time. “For starters, you can have a basic latte—”
“What?”
“A basic latte—”
“Come again?”
“...you can have a basic latte, which is—”
“A rated hottie? I thought they ain’t let mares offer them services no more.”
“A. Basic. Latte.”
Each item was read, reread, misinterpreted then read again before Cappuccino could move on. She felt the eyes on her as she half-shouted at the more-than-half-deaf pony, the only volume that she could seem to reach Granny at. None of the offered items seemed to interest her, passing through them without a second thought. Feeling her voice turning hoarse, she was almost relieved by the reprieve brought by a gasp followed by glass shattering.
Her head whipped around at the noise, landing on the customer her coworker was serving. The stallion was peering over the counter, drawing Cappuccino’s attention downwards towards a sorry sight. Outlined in milk foam like a freshly marked crime scene, the poor unicorn lay sprawled on the ground, wearing the remains of a freshly brewed coffee.
“Chai! Are you alright?” Cappuccino crouched down beside her coworker, looking her over with concern. A quick inspection found little damage besides the mare’s pride, and with a sigh, Cappuccino helped the sodden, downtrodden unicorn up. Chai’s glasses had fallen askew on her muzzle, but a quick adjustment by Cappuccino had them reoriented. A napkin was procured from nearby and dabbed across Chai’s face, even as the unicorn squirmed under the ministration, until she raised a hoof to halt Cappuccino’s tending.
“I’m fine, Cappy! No, stop— Plegh!” She sputtered, the napkin having gone one final swipe over her mouth with rather unfortunate timing as her tongue had been out, causing her to pick up the delectable flavor of damp, cheap paper. Chai turned to Cappuccino with a small pout that wouldn’t have been out of place on a foal who just had to deal with the icky affection of its mother in public. The action was followed with a petulant stomp of her hoof, ending the impromptu drying session.
“I’m a grown mare, Cappy, I can take care of myself!” The unicorn huffed, picking up a new napkin in her orange magic field, and continued the process of cleaning herself. But it only took a beat before her expression softened, glancing back at Cappuccino a little sheepishly. “Thank you, though. For helping.”
It’s these moments that make Cappuccino cluck and fuss over her coworker. Not only because as the store manager, all her employees (just Chai) were her responsibility, but because, well… these kinds of accidents weren’t exactly uncommon when it came to the unicorn.
Chai wasn’t a bad worker by any means! She had good work ethics, and few patrons left without a smile on their faces after interacting with her. But for some Celestia forsaken reason, Chai could not. Make. Coffee. At least, not without some critical failure happening the moment her focus wavers. From using salt instead of sugar to spilling the milk from a measurement gone wrong to simply tripping on her hooves while delivering it: evident by her most recent spill.
Everything else, she could do perfectly. Counters needed cleaning? They were spotless within minutes. Working the register? Not a single bit would be found out of place. Even the few pastries that were served came out as delightful treats for any to enjoy. But whenever a coffee mug found its way into her hooves, all Tartarus broke loose. As confounding as it was, the one most frustrated by it was Chai herself. It’s why, no matter how many times she messed, she kept trying. So Cappuccino took a step back to give her room to deal with it herself, as much as she wanted to coddle the mare. It wouldn’t do to stifle Chai just because she was a teeny tiny bit overprotective.
“No problem. Sorry I got ahead of myself again.” Cappuccino rubbed the back of her head, with an apologetic smile. “Take five to freshen up.” She gestured towards the storeroom, where their supplies and spare uniforms sat in case of such accidents.
“Thanks, Cappy!” With an excited smile, Chai bounced forward to give Cappuccino a sticky hug, before jerking away as she remembered the mess on her. “Sorry!” She turned to the customer she had previously been dealing with and gave a quick apology as well, before trotting away to swap out her soiled uniform.
For the dozenth time, Cappuccino wondered why Chai chose to work here of all places. She knew that Chai could make a mean cup of tea. Cappuccino actually teared up the first time Chai made her a cup after a particularly rough day, it was that good. Despite how much of a grounding presence she was in the café, Cappuccino had tried convincing her to look into a position better suited to her—like the teahouse in Ponyville, run by that nice mare, Jasmine—but the unicorn remained resolute. And in the face of such determination, Cappuccino couldn’t find it in herself to tell her no.
Idly brushing the new stains on her apron and smearing them hopelessly deeper, Cappuccino gave a fond shake of her head before looking back to Granny Smith to try and get her to order sometime this week. Before she could return to shouting at the elderly, an out of breath Apple Bloom skidded by the entrance, head on a swivel. Peering through the café’s glass doors, her eyes widened after locking on Granny Smith, before she turned and called out to someone out of view, waving her foreleg frantically. Applejack trotted up, relief causing her tense posture to slump. Entering the store and slipping between the customers in line, she came to a stop beside Granny and began steering the older mare back out, though not without complaint.
“Wha—! What in tarnation are ya doin’, young’in? Ah’m try’n t’ get mahself summin’ t’ drink!” Granny fought, trying to wriggle out of Applejack’s hold with surprising dexterity for a pony that can barely outpace a snail with insomnia.
“Quit it, Granny! Ya know ya ain’t s’posed ta leave the farm without tellin’ nopony!” Applejack hissed through her teeth, before forcing a wide, false grin on her face, her eyes darting around. “Sorry about that, folks! Granny wandered off a li’l farther than we thought. We’ll get outta y’all’s manes quicker than a bolt o’ greased lightning!”
“But mah hooch!”
“They ain’t sellin’ alcohol here, Granny! It’s a café for Celestia’s sake!”
“What!” Granny shrieked, before whipping around to shoot the stink eye at Cappuccino. “Well why not? What kind o’ establishment ain’t sweeten up a cup o’ joe? I tell ya, back in my day…”
The old mare raved and ranted as she was guided out of the store, much less resistant after discovering that her desired prize wasn’t being sold there. The remaining patrons watched in silence, mentally pitying the younger Apples for having to babysit their cantankerous matriarch until they were well out of sight.
Everyone stood around, waiting for the awkward tension to break, when Chai bounced out of the back area, a new apron fastened to her front with a cheerful smile. Noticing the atmosphere, she glanced around in confusion.
“Did I miss something?”
Before Cappuccino could answer, a yellow object blurred by her vision. Her hoof instinctively swatted the figure down, honed by countless bugs trying to get into their pantries over the years. With a dull splat, she peered at the large, round fly thing that was splayed on the counter, a dizzy expression on its face before it shook it off, looking up at Cappuccino with innocent compound eyes.
She responded by raising her hoof up to smack the insect again, but was stopped with a cry by Chai who blocked Cappuccino’s foreleg.
“Noooo, wait! Don’t hurt it, it’s so cute!” She joined in pouting at Cappuccino alongside the bug, both trembling their lower lips at her. Feeling her resistance crumbling, Cappuccino’s stern demeanor wavered before faltering, as she dropped back down to all fours with a sigh.
“Chai, we can’t just let bugs stay in here because they’re cute. We have health and safety standards to uphold, and this isn’t…” She trailed off as she watched the bug suckling on one of the milk canisters and visibly draining it. It licked its lips before burping out an identical copy of itself in orange.
“Yeah, no.” Grabbing an empty mixing bowl, Cappuccino deftly trapped the insects beneath it and slid a tray underneath, ignoring the faint tapping sound of them buzzing around and bumping into the sides of the bowl. She slid it towards Chai, keeping it covered. “Toss it out outside of the store, Chai. Not dealing with this today.”
A little more wary about the tiny beasts, Chai gingerly took the makeshift trap, carrying it towards the front, when a wave of magic flooded through the café, sweeping over everyone inside. They all froze, unsure of what just happened, but slowly relaxed as nothing occurred after.
Until the sounds of munching were heard and the pair of bugs flew out from the bottom of their prison, looking generally unbothered. Chai flipped the bowl upside down, finding a large hole bitten out of the bottom of the tray, before slowly panning over to the bugs. In a shaky tone, she voiced her thoughts.
“I don’t think they’re very cute anymore.”
From that moment on, pandemonium erupted. A few of the more impulsive ponies dove through the windows and out the door, while the rest began screaming and galloping around in the store, bumping into tables and each other like a bunch of agitated pinballs. Cappuccino was about to join them, when she saw Chai cowering beneath a stool, shaking like a leaf.
Oh, hay no.
Like a switch flicking, her eyes narrowed and she reached towards the tool rack, unsheathing a stainless steel egg whisk. Now armed and prepared for battle, Cappuccino vaulted over the counter, swinging her weapon around to bat away any of the little monsters that flew too close.
The café had turned into a warzone, filled with the haunting wails of terrified customers and a constant droning of wingbeats rivaled only by fluorescent lighting. Bite marks appeared across the furniture, chunks taken from tables and chairs. The winged orbs swooped up and down and all around, gleefully eating anything within reach. One particular bug was slurping up the napkins like an inverted magic trick, garnering revulsion instead of applause.
Cappuccino waded through the crowd, steadily making her way towards her coworker. Anything that dared fly within reach found itself smacked, shaken, or stirred as the whisk whistled through the air. After a couple minutes of constant pushing and forcing ponies out of the way, Cappuccino reached the huddled yellow ball of fur beneath the hole-riddled remains of a seat.
She had already exhausted herself from defending herself, and a glance at her whisk saw the top half cleanly chewed off, one blue bug idly teething on it. Dropping the now useless tool and gritting her teeth, Cappuccino dropped down to stand over Chai protectively, glaring at the flying invaders.
“Come on! Do your worst!” She shut her eyes, waiting for the inevitable feeling of getting swarmed. A few seconds passed, then a minute. With a noticeable lack of bugs biting her, she cracked an eye open to see what was taking so long.
The bugs had slowed down in their frantic attempts to devour the store, distractedly gazing out of a now empty window. A few of the other ponies had also come to a halt, confused but wary of the now docile creatures. No one moved or even breathed, afraid to break the stalemate.
The thick tension started to melt away when, in the distance, the sound of music was heard. As time went on, it got louder, approaching their location. It was surprisingly upbeat for an insect apocalypse, filled with a diverse array of sounds and instruments.
The bugs bobbed to the beat, slowly filtering out the gaps of the building towards the incoming band. Only for said band to turn the corner, revealing Pinkie Pie wearing an entire orchestra, puffing between trumpets and horns and a tuba for some reason.
The ponies inside the store remained still, stunned into immobility for a completely different reason. As she passed by with a determined grimace, Pinkie glanced towards the wreckage. Spotting Cappuccino, her expression lightened up, as she paused for a moment to dig through her ensemble to pull out a mouthpiece connected to a bag.
“Don’t worry, I found one!” Smiling obliviously, she gestured to her apparently acquired bagpipe, before she continued her catchy tune, heading out of town with a parade of bouncing bugs trailing after her.
The sounds faded into the distance after a few minutes, leaving everyone staring after where she disappeared to. Glances were exchanged, as if wondering if that really just happened.
A crack rang out from outside the café, before the latter half of the storefront sign crashed to the ground, “bucks” lying in shambles. Cappuccino could only blink when the H followed suit, crumbling on impact.
Numbly, she looked down to make eye contact with Chai, who had an equally blank stare. After seeing no injuries on either of them, she turned around, her hoofsteps echoing loudly across the ruined flooring as she went back behind the bar, taking a chewed mug from nearby and dispensing a couple shots of espresso from the least damaged machine. She poured steamed milk followed by foam, finishing up a cup of her namesake. Not even bothering to let it cool down further, she took a long drag, looking over the damaged room and mentally tallying up the exorbitant costs of replacing everything.
After making short work of her coffee, she set the cup down gently. It split in two halves cleanly and rolled off the counter, shattering out of sight. The sound spooked a few nearby ponies, before she heard a throat clear.
Cappuccino slowly turned to see a sheepish looking stallion, the one who was being served by Chai earlier. He looked around, before finally meeting her gaze with a weak smile.
“C-could… Could I, uh, get a refund?”
Cappuccino’s eye twitched.
Yeah. She hated Tuesdays.
Author's Note
Well, that's my first story done! How fun, how fun!
(If you see this part of the note, there's going to be art here soon. Ish. Soonish.)
