Zero: PrologueView OnlineThe Crusade For CabbageZero: PrologueThe Crusade For Cabbage Zero: Prologue Exhaling an agitated breath, I stared at my computer screen and the words that it held. More specifically, I scowled and glared as I stared at the tiny words on my computer screen. Please insert your full name in the space below. I absolutely abhorred typing my name on the magical span of the Internet for all to see. I didn't even have a freakin' Facebook account. Why did they need to know my name, anyways? Were they doing a goddamn survey? The nerve of some companies. Ugh. Name. Name. What to put in... I scratched the top of my short shorn hair and thought back to how the Xbox Live name randomizer worked. It was a verb followed by a noun, right? Noticing an empty... almost empty... bottle of store-brand vodka on my computer desk, I quickly typed the first verb that came to mind. Inebriated, I typed in. Hmm. Not a bad start. I eyed the clear glass container, pondering whether or not I should start this early. It was around noon on a Saturday, so... Ah, what the hell? It's never too early to start drinking. Placing the bottle back on my imitation-mahogany desk with a muted thud and wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, I let out a contented sigh and wondered what noun would suit my inebriated alias the best. I looked around my sparsely decorated bedroom. And when I mean 'sparsely decorated', I mean sparsely decorated. I could count every major thing I owned with two hands. Computer, desk, wardrobe, bed... Actually, just one hand. But hey, at least it's all mine, even the apartment beneath, to the side of, and above my pathetic, one-handed list of owned items. A couple of things caught my eye that would make an interesting moniker. A solitary, stinking, white sock lying on the corner of my desk, a half-eaten, stale can of Pringles, and a miniature figurine of a majestic walrus in mid-flight, leaping from the ocean waves with a serene grace matched only by two roided-up, sweaty wrestlers flinging themselves towards each other. Don't ask where I got the sea-mammal; I have no freakin' idea. Staring at each item in turn, I thought over how each of my possible pseudonyms would sound. Inebriated Sock? I don't know, seems a little plain. Inebriated Pringles? Bah, it'd probably be disallowed, since it was a brand. Inebriated Walrus? ... Yeah, that'll do. I could just imagine aforementioned walrus figurine attempting its twirls and spins out of the water while absolutely smashed. It was an interesting mental image, to say the least. Just when I was about to type in 'Inebriated Walrus' and be done with the name selection, I caught a familiar-looking box out of the corner of my eye. A brilliant yellow background, the words written in crimson, cursive font... An Eggo Waffle box. Quite simply the greatest breakfast known to mankind, waffles have been feeding me since I moved into this apartment nigh-on two years ago. It seems that they were the gift that kept on giving... Inebriated Waffle, I finished typing in. Pressing the 'Enter' key with a flourish I usually reserved for sending scything emails and messages, I leaned back into my faux-leather chair with a smug smile. "Damn straight," I said, even though nobody was around to hear me. "There you have it. Inebriated Waffle. Best fucking name to ever grace the shitfest that is the world wide web." Oh, be quiet. It's not as if you never talk to yourself while in the comfort of your own home... I looked back at the computer screen, and what did I see? An insolent little buffering symbol staring at me. Go to hell, buffering symbol. Nobody likes you. Finally, a green checkmark sporting a cheerful smile appeared and I was redirected to another page. Welcome, Inebriated. What is your favourite colour? My face contorted into a snarl. Seriously, what the fuck? My favourite colour? What in the goddamn—what does that have to do with anything?! Managing not to break my keyboard in half, I angrily typed in the best colour to suit my alias. Golden Brown. I figured that I might as well go with something that fit. After pressing 'Enter', another overly cheerful green checkmark appeared. I'm in no mood for your shenanigans, checkmark. Leave me in peace. You chose 'Golden Brown' as your favourite colour. Is this correct? Very annoyed face. This start-up screen was really getting on my nerves. Yes, I typed in. Are you sure? You will not be able to change your colour from 'Golden Brown' after you start. By Celestia's nipples, this game was annoying the fuck out of me already. Yes, you cockamamie, shit-dripping piece of anal leakage! I typed in, smirking as I hit 'Enter'. Let's see you process that, game. I'm sorry, I didn't quite get that, the game replied. Did you mean, 'Yes'? I calmly stood up and placed my hands underneath my desk. My face was the picture of tranquility as I lifted the desk a few centimetres off the ground before letting it drop again. I so very badly wanted to eject the disk and throw it out my window like a Frisbee, but I forced myself to remain calm and sit back down. Silently fuming, I put my hands back on the mouse and keyboard. I couldn't believe that I was letting the stupid game get to me already. A few (read: my only) friends told me to play My Little Pony: The MMORPG. It was an enjoyable romp, they said. I wouldn't regret buying it, they said. For starters, the name was absolute garbage. My Little Pony: The Massive Multiplayer Online Role-Playing Game? Why not My Little Pony: Friendship Requires Actual Human Companionship, So Go Outside You Lazy Fuck? I think that's a much better title. I hadn't even started playing the game, and it was already rustling my damn jimmies. Must be a new record. Breathing deep, I typed in, Yes. The response caught me off guard. You have chosen 'Golden Brown' as your colour scheme and 'Inebriated Waffle' as your name. Generating character... The fuck? It said your name, not your character's name. What a bunch of underhanded, conniving— I paused and took a second to think this over. Ha! I figured that everyone who followed the instructions would have generic, human names, and everyone who didn't would have the most unoriginal and obscenely over-the-top names like Shadow Flash or Knight Flare. I could only imagine the dumbfounded looks that I would receive when I strolled by as Inebriated Waffle. My name was the epitome of class and sophistication compared to all of the alicorn Gary Stus that made up the majority of original characters. I leaned back in my chair once more, whistling a few off-key notes while I waited for the bloody game to get started. Just as I was wondering if I had enough time to read another pony fiction while I waited, an overly cheerful tune was heard through the headphones around my neck. It sounded suspiciously like the tune from The Legend of Zelda whenever you got a item. I squinted my eyes to look at the ridiculously long Terms of Service Agreement. Fifteen pages? How about 'No'. I scrolled down with my cursor and clicked on the 'I Agree' button. To me, it acted as the too long, didn't read button. They're the same thing, more or less. A popup window appeared as soon as I did. You are about to start your adventure in Equestria. What race do you want to be? It gave me a list and choices between being an earth pony, pegasus, unicorn, alicorn, diamond dog, gryphon, minotaur, changeling, or Pinkie Pie. I read over the list twice just to be certain. My first thought was wondering whether the creators of this game were high. Why would they include alicorn as a playable character? I mean, what in the actual fuck? Every dimwitted dipshit was going to pick it just so they could have the perfect character. I pondered some of the other choices. Being a changeling sounded... pretty damn neat, to be perfectly honest. It would be pretty damn sweet to see the inside of the changeling hive. I decided to be a changeling on a different playthrough, assuming the game wasn't complete rubbish. My eyes flashed to the last species on the list before continuing. Pinkie Pie? What— Never mind. Never question Pinkie Pie. Speaking of ponies, why would they even give the option to be an earth pony? Hurr durr, let's see: Should I be able to fly, cast magic, or neither?! I didn't particularly want to live in a cave, so diamond dog was out. Did I want to be a half lion, half eagle? Actually... being the only meat eater would great wholesome fun for the whole family, but I seriously doubted that they'd allow killing in this game. And minotaur? Give me a fucking break. There was one, count it, one episode with a minotaur and they based a whole species after poor ol' Iron Will. With every other race being excluded for one reason or another, I had narrowed the choice down between pegasus and unicorn. I was basically stuck between flying and walking on clouds or using all sorts of kick-ass magic. I thought about this one for a while. I even pondered the idea of picking an alicorn just so I could do both, but decided against it. Even if I did it ironically, nobody likes OC alicorns. Nobody. Fly. Magic. Fly. Magic. I hummed and hawed with the decision for a good while before I finally decided. My decision was made when I glanced away from the computer screen and looked at the small, unobtrusive plushie of pre-season three finale Twilight Sparkle. It's okay, Twilight. I still believe that you don't have wings... Unicorn, I typed in, my face determined. You have chosen: Unicorn. Unicorns are ponies that are physically less imposing than the earth ponies, and do not have the endurance of the Pegasi. However, they can use magic. Is this the race you want to be? Hell to the Yes, I responded. While I admire your enthusiasm, it is quite unnecessary to curse so vulgarly. It is a children's game, after all. I did a double-take. Where the heck did that come from? Before I could ponder who or what wrote the message, another generic text box flashed up at me, obscuring the mysterious one before it. Where do you want your starting location to be: Ponyville, Canterlot, The Everfree Forest, Manehattan, Las Pegasus, Appleloosa, The Griffon Kingdom, The Minotaur Republic, or the Diamond Dog Wastes? Blimey, I thought. So many bloody choices. I looked over the names, trying to pick the one that would give me the most interesting playthrough. For starters, fuck the Diamond Dog Wastes. Place sounded like a grade-A shithole. Actually, screw the Minotaur Republic and the Griffon Kingdom as well. None of those places were canon. Speaking of canon... I fumbled around my desk until I found the game case. Surprisingly enough, the game was partnered with Hasbro, with a small little disclaimer that proudly announced that everything in the game was canon and adhering to Hasbro's trademarks and copywrites in regards to— Blah. Blah. Blah. Once upon a time, I would've had faith, but not after they goofed season three beyond repair. I squinted at the remaining names. Screw Appleloosa. I wasn't playing a muh-more-puh-guh to go and dick around in the Mild, Mild West. And Las Pegasus could blow me, too: I was going to be a unicorn anyway. That left Ponyville, Canterlot, the Everfree Forest, and Manehattan to choose from. Ponyville was just... too generic. I was sure that everypony would choose to spawn there with their overpowered-as-fuck black and red alicorns. Manehattan would be fun... big city, lots of people, hookers. My eyes widened upon that realization. Hookers! I was about to feverishly click on Manehattan when I realized what the random, unknown comment from before had said. Damn. It was a children's game, after all. Which meant no hookers. Sad Waffle. Grumbling to myself, I looked over the last two choices: The Everfree Forest and Canterlot. I wanted to pick the Everfree Forest, but I've read of some nasty shit going on down there. Slendermane, demonic possession, etcetera. Just because it was a children's game didn't mean that people wouldn't troll the hell out of everyone else. I eyed the last choice remaining. Canterlot. I couldn't think of anything bad in regards to the capital city, but I couldn't think of any good, either. Whatever. Still a better choice than generic Ponyville. I clicked on the name. You have chosen: Canterlot. Canterlot is the capital of the equine empire. It's history goes back thousands of years. It is a bustling city of commerce and trade. It is also the where the Princesses of the Sun and Moon reside. Is this correct? Yes. Bring on the snobby aristocrats! Come now, they aren't all bad. Most are simply poor, misunderstood souls. Like me. I wasn't too sure about the message. Something just felt off about it. Again, before I could do anything about the strange message, a much grander text box appeared on my screen, complete with golden edging and a trumpet blare. Congratulations! You have chosen to be a Golden Brown coloured unicorn by the name of Inebriated Waffle. Your journey shall begin in Canterlot as soon as you click the 'ENTER' button! It was about damn time. I eagerly clicked the enter button, and eagerly wished I hadn't not a second later. My vision went dark as my pain receptors went into overdrive, shutting my body down for repairs. The last thing I heard before blacking out was a strangely familiar, warbling laugh that seemed to come from all directions. \\\ I awoke to the same darkness that had consumed me previously. I tried to rub my aching head, but only managed to hit myself with a very hard, blunt object. Considering my head was throbbing like an oncoming train already, the bonk on the head did nothing to alleviate my pain. My head—and the rest of me, mind—was on fire. I managed to force my eyes open, but it didn't make a difference: It was pitch black either way. Don't worry my dear, drunken, batter cake. Your crusade will begin shortly. Oh hell nah. I recognized that voice; it had plagued my dreams and nightmares ever since the second season premier. Discord. Oh, so you do know who I am. Good. That'll make this oh-so-much more enjoyable. I covered my ears in an attempt to shut out the god of chaos' voice. No dice. It was like he was speaking directly into my head. That's because I am speaking directly into your head, young padawan. Christ, his voice was like a P.A. system connected directly into my inner ear. Fuck. "Why are you yelling?" I asked the darkness, already feeling a bit ridiculous in doing so. "I already feel like I have a hangover, thank you very much. You don't need to make it worse." I swear that I heard affront in Discord's voice. Oh, quiet you. Your troll—er—trip will begin shortly. I assure you: It will be quite the spectacle. "Why?!" I exclaimed. I tried to raise my arms in defiance, but all I got for my trouble was another lump on the head when I fell backwards. "What the hell is going on here?!" Personal amusement, for the most part. A small bet, for the remaining. I took a second to mull this over, as there wasn't much more that I could do in whatever state I was in. "Why me?" was the question I finally asked. Why you? Good question, one that will have to wait to be answered. And no, you're not some prophesized saviour of Equestria or any silly thing like that. In fact, you're the complete opposite: Boring, vulgar, and just about every other trait that happens to be severely lacking here. I could take not being some stupid, gallivant knight that runs in and saves the day. I could take being called vulgar. I could not, however, take being called boring! "Who the hell do you think y—" Question time is now over! Let the shenanigans... ensue! "Hey, I still need answer—" Toodles. For now. I felt a great weight pressed over my eyes and a wet rag pressed over my mouth. I remembered too late what to do in a situation like this, and inhaled deeply. Just putting it out there: Chloroform tastes like ass.
Pun: Much Ado About CabbageView OnlineThe Crusade For CabbagePun: Much Ado About CabbageThe Quest For Cabbage Chapter Pun: Much Ado About Cabbage I woke up in the middle of the street. I mean, really? Really, Discord? The middle of the street? You couldn't even leave me in a bed or something? Couldn't even rent a hotel room and leave an apology note. Cheap bastard. Well, at least I can scratch 'get chloroformed' off of my bucket list. I heard that. Oh shit. Uh, sorry. I received no reply, so I figured I was hunky-dory. That was, until I tried to stand up. I wondered why my legs weren't responding to my commands. I looked down. At my hooves. Are you fu—? Real—? ... Of all the bullshit scenarios, this had to be the most clichéd motherfucking thing to happen. What was next? Would I mysteriously get amnesia and grow wings? Well, I couldn't go and make you into a fire-breathing parasprite hell-bent on world domination, now could I? That wouldn't be cliché enough. You're a dick, Discord, you know that? You're a dick. Dick-cord. Don't get all testy with me, he replied. I had to hand—hoof it to him there: That was pretty clever. You're the one who filled out the transformation forms, remember? Oh deities above and below. No, anything but that! I looked down at my perfectly golden brown chest. I flopped over onto my side and looked at where my cutie mark was imprinted onto my ass. Well, technically, it was my flank now, but to hell with it! My cutie mark was an abomination: It should be taken out to pasture and shot. I mean, seriously? What the fuck was that even supposed to mean? Don't look at me, you came up with the name. I stared at my laughable cutie mark. It was a waffle leaning up against a pitcher of beer. How fucking appropriate. I was at a loss for words. Oh yes. There is one more thing I need to mention. Go to hell. And while you're there, tell my step-mother that I hate her. You need to find a cabbage to leave. Happy questing! Wait, what?! A fucking cabbage? What does that have to do with anything?! My question hung in the air and remained unanswered. "Discord!" I screamed rather dramatically. My overly dramatic death scream was interrupted when a blue coloured unicorn walked up to me and asked in a familiar voice, "Who are you yelling at?" "You know, the god of chaos. And apparently cabbage. Nothing major. What do you want?" The azure unicorn was obviously confused by my response. She—I could tell, don't ask how; blame the ponification—blinked several times, as if I was the crazy pony. "What do you mean, what do I want? Why are you yelling and lying down in the middle of the street?" I stroked my imaginary beard with my worse-than-useless hooves. "Well, you see... I have no idea why. "Well, aside from somegod being a lazy fucknut," I continued, somewhat testily. Thankfully, Discord refrained from popping my eardrums by responding. "Wh—I don't—What?!" stammered the unicorn with a look of sheer confusion plastered on her face. I waved her question aside with the flick of my hoof. "You don't need to know. What I need to know, however, is how the hell I'm going to find some cabbage when I don't know how to even fucking walk." If possible, this seemed to confuse her even more. "What? You don't know how to walk? And what does cabbage have to do with anything?" "That's what I said! I've never seen anyone ever eat a bloody cabbage in Equestria, so where the heck am I going to find some?" The blue unicorn opened her mouth to say something but seemed to decide against it. I didn't blame her. Sighing, she asked, "Are you drunk?" I opened my mouth to make a witty comeback, but I ended up promptly closing it again. For all I knew, I was hallucinating this entire thing. Man, that headache was killing me. "Possibly... If anything, I feel like I have a hangover." "That would explain why you don't know how you got here. You were probably up late partying last night, and slept through the day," explained the unicorn. "Except... that doesn't explain why nopony else stopped to help you..." I snorted, something that was much easier to do as a pony. "I know exactly how I got here. What I don't know is how I'm going to go anywhere with no freaking leg control!" The pony raised an eyebrow. "Don't you know any spells for that?" Oh yeah. Right. The whole 'being a unicorn' thing. People always said I was a dickhead, so now I suppose having a phallic object attached to my skull made their insults rather accurate. The only problem was that I had no idea how to use my horn, nor whatever magic was stored within. "No, no I don't know any spells for that," I replied. Sighing, the pony asked, "What's your name? Maybe we can get some help from your relatives?" I looked at my joke of a cutie mark with disdain. "I'll give you one hint towards my name: It's written on my ass." The unicorn looked confused. Shocking, I know. Rolling my eyes, I clarified. "Look at my bloody cutie mark." The unicorn trotted over and observed my flank, which sounded a lot dirtier than it actually was. "Is that a waffle and... a pitcher of beer? What does that have to do with your name?" "Surprisingly, much more than you'd think. Being the dipshit that I am, I decided to name myself Inebriated Waffle." Seeing the look of pure befuddlement on her face, I added, "But you can call me Waffle." "I don't—I can't— "—What?! I sighed. "Don't think about it overmuch." Seeing the continued incoherent mumbling coming from the unicorn, I figured that I had broken the first pony I met with a few minutes of conversation. The sadistic part was that I kind of enjoyed it. I coughed, attracting the unicorn's attention. "I don't mean to bother you, but could you help this Waffle up? I don't want to get all soggy..." "Yeah... sure..." mumbled the unicorn as she telekinetically picked me up and placed me on my hooves. Incredibly, as soon as I put my weight on all four of my hooves, I instantly knew how to walk. You're welcome. That'll save you six or seven hours of faffing about. Uh. Thanks... I think... I looked around me, noticing that I was on a somewhat damp, side street. Ponies of all sorts and sizes walked down the main road, but none of them came down the street I was on. I turned my attention back to the pale blue unicorn. Something about her seemed familiar... No. It couldn't be. I imagined her with an egotistical attitude and wearing magician's apparel. My god. It was her. The fandoms lied! She should be at Twilight's, kissing ass and trying to redeem herself! "You're her, aren't you?" I asked quietly. The question brought the blue unicorn out of her thoughts. "Who do you mean?" she asked suspiciously. "I almost didn't recognize you without your apparel. You're the Great and Powerful Trixie Lulamoon." A glint appeared in her eyes. "You recognize me?" I looked at her pale cornflower blue mane and her brilliant azure coat. "Nah, I thought you were somepony else." Another blank look appeared on her face. I didn't think they would be this sarcasm impaired in real life. "Yes, I recognize you," I said, gritting my teeth. "Why do you seem surprised?" She shifted her hooves and her face grew red. "Ever since Twilight Sparkle," she said with vehemence, "made a foal out of me in Ponyville not once, but twice, every town I've gone to as the 'Great and Powerful Trixie' has shunned my presence. I had to hang my cloak up in shame." She started crying, which I found to be not helpful towards my current predicament. "I had to go through several months of psychiatric help to get me to stop referring to myself in third person," she sniffed. "After my ego was cured, I didn't have anywhere to go, so I decided to stay here in Canterlot. I've been here ever since." Well fuck. There went any notion of this being a nice, straightforward, point-A-to-point-B affair. I wondered if all of the characters from the show were displayed in realism. Gosh, that was a scary thought. "How long have you lived here in Canterlot?" I asked, trying to get some information. Trixie briefly counted in her head. "Almost a year, including the time I spent getting help." In a quiet voice, she added, seemingly to herself, "Six months since Twilight became a princess." Oh buck. Buck me sideways. What madness could have happened in a year? Inadvertently, I thought about how much damage Pinkie Pie could cause in a single day. Terrifying chills wracked my new body as I thought of the implications. Not only that, but Twilight was an alicorn! Fuck! I mentally counted to ten in a bid to calm myself. Slowly and deliberately, I asked, "Do you know where I can find a head of cabbage?" "Why do you need cabbage? What good would that do? You seem to have some pretty severe problems..." Because the god of Chaos and patron of all things illogical put me here and the only way to get out is by finding a fucking cabbage! Instead of saying that and digging my shallow grave into a full-fledged pit, I answered, "Because I do. Don't ask. Seriously." Shaking her head, Trixie said, "Alright, forget I asked... Waffle." She looked at me as I trotted around in a circle, marvelling at the ease of which I did so. "I thought you said you couldn't walk." "I couldn't. I'm better now," I said, completely serious. "But—Never mind." Trixie looked around before saying, "Look, I've got to get home. Do you need me to get someone for you? I can't just leave you in the middle of the street." "Oh, don't worry," I began, "I intend to get the fuck outta Dodge as quickly as I possibly can." I raised a hoof to my chin in thought. "Before you go, would you mind telling me the time and date? My watch kind of... isn't here anymore." "It's Tuesday, about an hour before sunset," Trixie said. Well, would you look at that! I've been bamboozled by Discord, transmogrified into a pony, trapped in Equestria, and I even met a very different Trixie! Oh, and my name is Inebriated Waffle. I double checked my list. Yep, it must be Tuesday. "Alright, thanks for everything, I guess. Have a jovial evening," I said to Trixie while walking towards the busy bustling street. I heard her say goodbye. She said something else, but I wasn't in the mood for finding out what. I briskly trotted onto the main street and took a quick look around. Let's see. Where was I going to find a cabbage? A food stall perhaps? What the heck do ponies eat here, anyway? I remember hay, oats, carrots, flowers, and... that's about it. I really freakin' hoped that there's more to eat than that here. I looked at my cutie mark again. Damn. Now I wanted a beer and some waffles. Maybe later. If there was a later. Now... Let's find some thrice-damned cabbage.
Too: ShenanigansView OnlineThe Crusade For CabbageToo: ShenanigansThe Quest For Cabbage Too: Shenanigans Three hours. Three fucking hours of searching for cabbage. I sat on a bench in the now-empty courtyard underneath the moon. It was more awkward sitting than Lyra made it out to be. I had gone through almost the entire city, meandering around rather aimlessly, looking for a clue to the whereabouts of the sneaky greens. Discord, you are a complete asshat. Just throwing that out there. Come now. You haven't even been here for a whole day yet! he said cheerfully, like he was rubbing it in. I couldn't in good conscience pick something that would be easy to find, now could I? That wouldn't be fun. Again, I have to ask: Why me? Why not some other smuck that has better things to do? That sounds more your style. Discord was silent for a short while. No particular reason, he finally said. Shouted, rather, but still. You had the right traits: an arrogant personality, almost no friends, a shoddy apartment— Okay, you can stop now. —a dysfunctional family, terrible in-laws, a low paying job— For fuck's sake, stop! I know my life is shit, thank you very much. You don't have to remind me. Sweet, blessed silence followed. Alright. Can I ask a different question? I don't know: Can you? What are you, five? Something like that. Just add a bunch of zeroes. I pinched the bridge of my nose with a hoof. I had no idea how I managed to do that without giving myself a black eye, but I wasn't complaining. So. Discord. Am I the only human here? You could say that. And would I be right in saying that? I heard some grumbling from the god of chaos. Hah! ...Yes. Fan-fucking-tastic. Oh, and please-oh-please tell me that I won't have to deal with any original characters, especially an O.C. alicorn or any other bullshit like that? Correct. Actually, fun fact, I debated making you an alicorn for the pure fun of it, but decided against it. Even I know when something has been used too much. Thank fucking Christ for that. So what am I supposed to do then? Find a cabbage? That's it? For now, yes. Though I must say, your crusade will feel a lot shorter if you troll people along the way. Like Trixie, for example. I don't understand. How'd I troll Trixie? Come on, don't tell me you're that oblivious to romance. Wait, what? Romance? I don't know a single bloody thing about romance! I felt Discord sigh. You're a fairly descent looking unicorn who doesn't speak like he's from Equestria, and you're named Inebriated Waffle, for chaos' sake. Not to mention the fact that you were the only one to recognize her for almost a year. How do you think she feels about a mysterious pony knowing exactly who she was? My eye started to twitch. I don't fucking know! Why don't you tell me, oh troll-master. Discord laughed. I saw a mental image of him stroking his magnificent half-beard. Oh, you'll see. You most certainly see... You know what? Fine. Be an information-holding asshat and don't tell me. See if I care. I'm going to go get wasted. Have fun! Don't forget to say hi to the deejay for me! I slid off of the bench and went in the direction of the nightclub I had spotted earlier while making my cabbage rounds. My headache still hadn't gone away. It was like I went drinking and missed out on all the fun parts. I thought about that as I trotted along the cobblestone path. Maybe drinking alcohol would cure my hangover. There were certainly stranger things that have happened. Fuck it; there was only one way to find out. \\\ I arrived at the club some thirty-odd minutes later. I could feel the rumble of the bass fifteen feet from the entrance. As I walked up to the door, I was stopped by a burly earth pony wearing a pair of reflective sunglasses and a nametag that identified him as 'Brick'. "Name and I.D., sir," Brick said while holding out a hoof, evidently waiting for something. "My name is Inebriated Waffle and I don't have any identification. Where the fuck would I keep it anyway? Up my rectal cavity?" I retorted. I couldn't help myself. The bouncer's face scrunched up in thought. I could see the gears in his head slowly turn as he processed each thought and deciphered each one of my words. "Um... your name is Inebr—...Ineberiat—... Waffle?" he finally concluded. I had to hand—hoof, goddamnit!—it to the bouncer: He tried is darnedest. "Sure, let's go with that. My name is Waffle. My fucking cutie mark is a waffle leaning on a mug of beer, not to mention the fact that I'm coloured like one." I motioned with one of my hooves to my perfectly golden brown coat, and my mane, which was maple syrup-coloured. "Uh... I-uh..." I shook my head and opened the entrance while the bouncer was still mentally occupied. I figured that at his current rate of processing information, I'd have at least half an hour before he realized that I snuck in without identification. The nightclub was actually furnished rather nicely... for a rave. I was almost blinded by the cacophony of colours that flickered and wavered from the numerous spotlights and nearly deafened by the constant wub-wub of the voluminous beats from the music. Christ. Raves here were almost as bad as the ones back home. Squinting to adjust to the sudden brightness caused by the strobe lights, I stumbled my way towards the bar, the music vibrating my teeth. I shouldered my way through a group of dancing ponies, causing a few of them to fall on their haunches, dazed. Thankfully for me, they seemed to not realize exactly what was happening and continued swaying to the music on their rears. In my blinded haze, I could've sworn that I saw a big, tall figure garbed in gold and purple armour at a table, playing poker with a bunch of stone-faced ponies. I didn't get a second look, as the crowd surged and pushed me through, causing me to land near the bar. There were only three stools at the bar and two of them were already occupied. Well, one was occupied and the other was tossed aside to make room. Naturally, I had to sit between them. Grumbling to myself, I got to my hooves and squeezed in between the two drinkers. I ordered the strongest form of alcohol they had, which happened to be a clear drink that looked nigh-identical to vodka, only it was promised to be much stronger. After taking a sip, I confirmed that it did indeed taste like vodka, which was fine by me. Unfortunately, I was unable to drink myself into a stupor in peace. "I haven't seen you around here before. What's your name?" asked the pony on my left. I turned my head, glaring at her for interrupting my first sip. She was a white unicorn, with a two-toned electric blue mane. Yet again, something struck me as familiar about her. Something about those sunglasses... Aha! "You can call me Waffle, DJ Pon-3," I replied, remembering who she was. I pronounced her name 'deejay pown three.' She smiled, probably at the way I said her name. She scooted a tiny bit closer to me. "You're funny. I like that. Although, since I'm not actually DJ-ing right now, you can call me Vinyl Scratch." I grunted an affirmative and continued drinking. I bent to take another sip of my alcoholic drink without hands or magic. It was really awkward. So awkward in fact, that the non-pony to my right decided to say as much. "Haven't you ever drank something before?" she chirped. I turned to my right and glared at her. "Shut up, Gilda." The gryphon looked surprised, if not slightly affronted. "Do I know you?" she asked. "No, but I know you," I replied, keeping my knowledge to myself. "Oh yeah?" Gilda replied. "Who am I, then?" "You are Gilda the Gryphon, once friend to the Element of Loyalty, Rainbow Dash. Not sure what happened between you two at flight cap, but I'm not one to judge. You are extremely proud, overly antagonist of anyone who challenges you, arrogant in your ways, and probably ashamed of yourself after you were shunned from Ponyville." I shut my mouth before I could say anything else. The look on Gilda's face was definitely not pissed beyond belief, nor was it directed towards me. Surely not. Vinyl tapped me on the shoulder with a hoof and whispered, "You might want to not do that... she's a pretty mean drunk." "A bit late on that warning," I commented offhandedly while preparing my body for being viciously raked and taloned. Hell, maybe she'd eat me. "Who the hay do you think you are, pretending to know me?!" Gilda roared. And I mean roared, like a lion. "You have no idea what I've done or what I'm capable of!" I thought about the episode that Gilda was in. I also thought about all the fanfictions about her. There weren't that many. "I know exactly what you did. You threw away your best friend for no reason other than the fact that you were jealous. Which, if I had to guess, is why you're drinking your woes away. As for what you're capable of... fucked if I know. I don't know any gryphons." The angry look that Gilda wore was replaced by sorrow and confusion. "How do you know about that? That happened... gosh. Almost two years ago." She sighed and took another swig of her drink. I guess this wasn't the 'Oh woe is me, I'm so sorry for acting like a douche' Gilda. I had to admit: The characters I met so far were pretty much exactly how I'd imagine them after a year had passed. Hats off to you, Discord. I don't wear hats. Shaking Discord's voice out of my ears, I returned to my own drink. I spied out of the corner of my little eye Vinyl Scratch staring at me with something similar to... awe? "What?" I asked. "How did you know all of those things?" Vinyl whispered. "Gilda never talks about herself." I shrugged. "Let's just say magic and leave it at that." I figured that was a good explanation as any. My conversation was interrupted by the griffin beside as she broke down into tears. "I-I never... I never told her how much she meant to me," she sniffed. Gilda chugged the last of her drink, then waved over the bartender for a refill. "When I visited her in Ponyville, I thought that she would be the same... but no." Gilda stared at the freshly refilled mug she held in one clawed paw. "I didn't realize it until later that she had changed for the better." I had better things to do than listen to Gilda's sob story, no matter how heart-wrenching it was. Call me a bastard. I padded down each of my forelegs with the opposite hoof. I make a tsk sound and said, "Sorry, Gilda, but it seems that I'm all out of fucks to give." Gilda glared at me for a second, then clambered out of the club, mumbling to herself. I grabbed her untouched drink and slid it beside mine. That's two characters broken so far. Yeah, and both were a lot easier to break than they should've been. What gives? I felt Discord shrug. I didn't expect a more detailed response, so I returned to my drink once more. I thought I had the whole 'drinking without hands or magic' thing down, but my technique fell flat as soon as my alcoholic beverage dropped beneath half of the glass. I couldn't force my face any further in. "You are a strange one," commented Vinyl Scratch as she watched me order a second mug when my first was still half full. "So I've been told," I said as I started on my new mug. "I think of things as being half empty rather than half full." Vinyl just shook her head, her mane shaking with her. "You are definitely a weird one." I decided to change the topic of discussion. "So you work here? The last time I saw you was during the Royal Canterlot post-wedding party, spinning the turn-tables with Pinkie Pie." She froze momentarily. "Y-Yes, I do work here. How do you know that? I don't remember seeing you at the after party." "That's because I wasn't there," I said as I sipped my drink. I could feel my hangover going away with every sip. Vodka! The new and improved hangover cure! It didn't make any sense whatsoever, but I'd take what I could get. DJ Pon-3 narrowed her eyes at me. "Are you by any chance related to Pinkie Pie?" "Fuck no. I don't want to be within a square mile of that psychopath." "What did she do to you?" she asked. "Nothing to me in particular, but to everypony as a whole. Think about all the things she's done, all the things that have no logical explanation whatsoever. Okay?" Vinyl nodded, thinking. "Alright, now count up all those things. How many have you counted?" "A hundred and twenty eight. And those are just the things I've heard about," replied the DJ. I nodded. "Now multiply that by ten thousand. That's how many things she's actually done, across all the universes and alternate dimensions. That's why I don't want to be anywhere near Pinkamena Diane Pie." Vinyl shivered. I didn't blame her. "Alright, forget I asked." We continued to drink in silence for several minutes, her downing shot glasses filled with some colourful liquid and me ordering a new drink whenever my face couldn't reach the liquid in the mug. I tried Gilda's drink, but it tasted like warm milk mixed with a cup of sugar. The silence was broken by my own curiosity. "So if you work here, why aren't you DJ-ing?" She smiled and said, "Well, technically I am. I put on a new record whenever it's my break time which gives me about an hour before I have to switch it." "Hmm. Fair enough." Another moment of silence passed before Vinyl asked, "So what brings you to this fine establishment, Waffle?" "Cabbage," I muttered from inside my glass mug. "Cabbage?" "Yes, cabbage. Don't ask." "Err, alrighty then." Vinyl eyed me as she drank another shot. "Uh, can I ask another question?" "You just did. But sure, only if I'm allowed to ask you one after," I replied. She nodded in agreement. "Why aren't you using your magic?" "Because I don't know how," I replied. "You don't know how to use magic?" "That's what I said." Vinyl Scratch was silent for a few seconds before shaking her head. "What's your question?" she asked. I slurped up as much vodka-like substance as I could. "Pick up my tab for me? Thanks." With that, I slid off the bar stool and trotted out of the club, leaving a confused deejay to pay for my drinks.
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