Berry Punch slowly opened one eye. She could swear that her eyelid creaked like a rusty iron door that had been closed shortly after Princess Celestia was born. Her throat was dry like a desert, complete with sand, scorpions and some bearded pony trying to convince his companions that he was just given two stone boards with the list of cool things they totally shouldn’t do.

She took a deep breath, causing a dust storm in her throat, and accidentally destroying a quite promising civilisation which just figured out how to build pyramids. Feeling her lungs expand, she tried to open her eyes again.

“Great,” she whispered to herself, when she finally managed to accomplish that feat. “They put me in a coffin again.”

A closer examination of the box she was in proved that either she was wrong, or the coffin she was in was, for some reason, made of fiberglass, painted white, and placed below a faucet. At least she didn’t have to get up to find a source of water. She simply (well, assuming that something can be simple with a pounding headache, bringing resemblance to a jackhammer drilling a hole in her skull) lifted her hoof and turned the tap. For a moment she was enjoying the stream of cold water pouring on her face.

“Don’t forget to close it, I need to keep the bill collectors at bay…” She heard a tired voice coming from the floor.

“Mhm,” she replied absent-mindedly. She lifted herself a bit and drank some water. As it entered her system, her brain cells started to finally cooperate on a level she was used to, preparing to execute the program “Berry_has_a_hangover.exe”, module “Regaining Orientation in Time and Space”.

“Where am I?” she asked. It was, along with “Who am I?”, “Why there are bars in the window?” and “Why do I have a tattoo on my flank?”, one of those question ponies often ask, hoping in vain that the Universe would find the answer.

Well, this time she was lucky.

“In my bathtub,” the voice replied, slightly annoyed.

“I figured it out myself. Where exactly am I?”

“In my place, White Horse Street 42, Manehattan, Equestria.”

The “Regaining Orientation in Time and Space” module encountered a critical error. It wasn’t unusual for Berry to wake up in weird places after a decent party, especially if it involved Vinyl Scratch, but they were usually located in one-mile radius from Ponyville.

“What am I doing in Manehattan?” she asked. It was one of these questions that neither the Universe, nor the mysterious voice from the floor could comprehend.

“I’d rather know what you’re doing in my bathtub…”

“Geez, if you weren’t a stallion, I’d say that you’re Scratch. I guess it’s all her fault. It’s always her fault…”

“Yeah, since she brought you here, I knew that this wouldn’t end well… And see? I spent a night on the floor.”

“Wait… She brought me here?”

“You, Octavia and those two...”

Suddenly, images started to flash before Berry’s eyes. It wasn’t a pleasant feeling.

“Vinyl Scratch…” she muttered through the gritted teeth, “You’ll pay me for that…”

“So, it’ll be twenty bits, right?” Vinyl asked, taking the bottle and levitating the money. The liquor store owner nodded.

“Okay, see you later,” she said and left the shop. Octavia, Berry, Lyra and Bon Bon were waiting for her.

“So, what are we going to do now?” Octavia asked. Of all the ponies gathered, she looked the most interested in the bottle Vinyl was levitating. The DJ snickered – it was the first time Octavia agreed to drink with them.

“Find some calm place and celebrate,” Lyra replied. She was carrying an old acoustic guitar on her back. The instrument was scratched and beaten up, the biggest dents covered by colourful stickers. Lyra actually got it after some bar brawl when somepony tried to smash it on her head, what explained its current state quite well.

“What are we celebrating?”

“Don’t you know?” Bon Bon smiled. “Vinyl and Lyra finally started talking to each other again after that barn incident.”

“Incident? I almost lost an eye!” Lyra exclaimed. Bon Bon patted her head and kissed her cheek, causing Berry to groan.

“Oh, how could I forget. They burned down my couch.” Octavia sighed. They walked to the park and found Lyra and Bon Bon’s favourite bench.

“If we stay here long enough, we’ll watch the sunrise,” Vinyl said, levitating the bottle and opening it with her magic. She took a sip and passed it to Berry. Octavia took a deck of cards.

“Poker?” she asked.

Lyra poked Bon Bon gently. She didn’t react, save from collapsing on the grass, like a statue of Discord in Celestia’s garden after a hurricane. Vinyl sighed.

“Earth pony liver, my flank…” she muttered.

“We shouldn’t have changed the rules,” said Lyra. She put her hooves in her black hoodie’s pockets, sitting on a bench in a position that never ceased to amaze Vinyl, who’d give everything to have a marefriend who could bend her spine like that. “We shouldn’t have played ‘the one who loses, drinks’ with somepony who doesn’t know how to play…”

“Yeah, I feel much too sober for my liking,” Berry groaned. “And now we’ll have to carry her home…”

“Don’t worry, I can fix this,” said Lyra, “My music always makes her feel better.”

She took a guitar and stroke a chord. The instrument was terribly out of tune, everypony winced, save from Berry, whose musical abilities were limited to blowing bottle tops. Lyra smiled sheepishly, conjured the tuning fork and started to tune the guitar – a hopeless task, because of its worn-out state. Finally, she reached an effect resembling the standard tune rather than the sound of a cat having indigestion.

“Okay,” she said, “It’s a work in progress, so I want your honest opinions on it.”

She started to play a rather lazy-paced tune, alternating between two chords in a manner similar to many Jamaneican guitarists. Vinyl took a tissue paper and a bag of some green leaves. Octavia shot her a nasty glare.

“What? I’m getting into mood,” she said, levitating the makings and rolling a joint.

“And you still wonder why we are only roommates…” Octavia sighed. “Well, that’s the fourth reason, right behind your obnoxiousness, idiocy, and the fact that you’re constantly ignoring me when I’m telling you that I’m heterosexual.”

“It’s about flushing the toilet again, right? I apologised!”

Lyra cleared her throat.

“I’m trying to play here!”

“Okay, okay, I’m shutting up,” said Vinyl and lit the joint. Lyra went back to playing ska strokes, this time a bit more aggressively, and finally started to sing:

There was a farmhouse surrounded by grass,
Where lived a stallion and a pretty lass.
He was a guy, who had lots of class,
And everyday he bucked her…
trees,
To bring the apples for her to squeeze.

She made a cider so well and so quick,
In a small farmhouse built of red brick,
She brought him some cider for him to lick,
And poured the rest on his tail and his…
leg,
‘Cause she was ditzy and bumped into keg.

“Sweet bucking baby Woona, shut up!” Bon Bon groaned, waking up.

“See? I told you this would work,” Lyra smiled innocently, helping her marefriend to get up.

“I need to take a walk…” Bon Bon slurred.

“Good idea!” Vinyl shouted enthusiastically, blowing the smoke straight on Berry’s face.

“Do that one more time,” the earth mare muttered, “And you will learn why there’s ‘Punch’ in my name…”

“Oh, come on, Berry, you never smoked weed? Everypony did, even Octavia. And Lyra–”

“Can we not talk about that?” Octavia asked, “I think I now know what Berry meant about being too sober.”

“Really, Octavia, you too?” Berry rolled her eyes. “I have a daughter, right? I’m trying to be a role model for her.”

“Yeah, right…” Vinyl smirked, “You drink like a fish who had too much chili and your daughter is now on vacation with auntie Minuette instead of–”

“I’m trying, okay?” Berry sighed and drank the rest of the alcohol from the bottle. “I’m not drinking that much. Not when Pinch is around. I once drank some punch from the bowl during a party, but it was because earlier that day Apple Bloom tried to sexually harass me with a bunch of apples and I was a bit traumatised. Then she saw me drinking it and I got a reputation.”

“Let’s *hic* kill Apple Bloom!” Bon Bon exclaimed, trying to gallop to Sweet Apple Acres. She failed miserably, due to her motor cortex neurons still being affected by ethanol. Vinyl and Lyra approached her and helped her to get up on her hooves.

“I think we should walk her home,” Octavia said. They all got up and headed to the gate of the park. “And Vinyl, please, don’t blow smoke in Lyra’s face.”

“It’s okay,” Lyra replied, inhaling the smoke. “I don’t know why do you think that I shouldn’t–”

“Sparkler’s 18th birthday,” Octavia deadpanned.

“By Discord’s kidneys!” Vinyl exclaimed, panicked. She quickly spat the joint on the ground and stomped on it, giving Lyra a worried look. Berry stared at them, confused.

“Umm… should I ask?”

“Oh, just college days,” Octavia explained, “It was just Vinyl being Vinyl and Lyra doing funny things while stoned.”

“Everypony does funny things while stoned,” Lyra said.

“Yeah, but your funny things are… how to explain that? Well, look at exhibit A: Vinyl Scratch,” she pointed at the DJ, who was just laughing to herself, jumping up and down on a path. “While she’s dumber than usual, she’s mostly harmless.”

Lyra nodded. Octavia continued:

“You, on the other hoof, fell into a cauldron with a magic weed when you were a filly. Since then you get ideas.”

“Wait,” Berry interrupted. “You’re trying to tell me that Vinyl actually was in a college?”

“Yep. Canterlot High, although more high than Canterlot, actually. But she even graduated.”

“See?” Vinyl suddenly appeared next to Berry, who jumped backwards, startled. “I’m not dumb! I was a DJ in the school radio, I was even in theater group! Why, oh why you keep pestering me, undertaker’s daughter, bringing fresh flowers to my grave? How about you?”

“Hold your horses, William Flankspeare of our generation,” Berry deadpanned, “Actually, I am an engineer. I wrote a paper about Saccharomyces cerevisiae.”

“Sa… what?”

“Yeast, my little pony, yeast. Used in winemaking.”

“Well, that was predictable,” Lyra said with an uncanny smile on her face. They already left the park and were walking next to the liquor store where Vinyl had bought the vodka. “How about we buy another bottle?”

“Sure, why not,” Berry said. “I’ll need much more to manage being next to Vinyl for the rest of the night…”

With these words, she entered the shop. Octavia looked at Lyra and noticed a subtle change of her expression. Both unicorns were supporting Bon Bon, whose face was now slightly green. Vinyl was partially in her own world, looking at the stars above them. Lyra was smiling unconsciously, looking into the distance.

“Hey guys, guess what,” Berry said, coming out of the shop. “I told this guy to surprise me, and he gave me this.” She showed them a bottle wrapped in a brown paper bag.

“You shouldn't have said that. Last time I told somepony to surprise me, I woke up with a changeling in my bed,” Vinyl said. “That was when that sexy princess got married. You know, the one who’s second on my “Ponies I Want To Bang” list.”

“Who is first?” Lyra asked. Octavia shot her a death glare.

“I see that at least somepony had fun when I was running away from the herd of changelings and Lyra woke up in the caves with Minuette and Twinkleshine, looking for a bunch of flowers…” Berry deadpanned.

“It was a male changeling.”

“So? Don’t tell me that you don’t swing that way. Remember that dragon in Neighpon?”

“Mhm… But changelings are out of question. Have you ever seen changeling’s wankie?”

For a moment Berry looked at her, confused, before she understood what Vinyl meant.

“No… I guess I haven’t had time for that. I was more focused on other parts. Like fangs, for example.”

“They practice traumatic insemination. It looks like a hammer drill.”

“Ugh…” Octavia shuddered. She always had a vivid imagination, which was usually very helpful. However, vivid images of changelings’ private parts weren’t something she’d like to see.

“So, what did you do?” Berry asked.

“I beat the crap out of him and tried to make him transform into something more pleasing to my eye, but he couldn’t get Octavia right, so I left him unconscious in the hotel and went to my turntables where I fell asleep. Then Pinkie woke me up.”

“Berry, can you open that bottle? I have to get some mental image out of my head,” Octavia deadpanned.

“Here you are.”

“Cheers, luv.” Octavia drank some alcohol from the mysterious bottle and winced. “Cor blimey!” she exclaimed, choking. “That’s some bloody rocket fuel…”

“Yeah, I already feel as if I was in Trottingham…” Lyra muttered. Octavia passed her the bottle. The unicorn took a sip and swallowed hard.

“Well, that’s proper good…” she whispered as soon as she was able to breathe again.

“Proper,” Octavia corrected, pronouncing the word with no trace of the final ‘r’, “But don’t worry, luv, I’ll make a proper Cockneigh of you, then we’ll send Vinyl to Coventry and Bob will be your uncle.”

“Where’s Coventry?” Vinyl asked. “And who’s Bob?”

Octavia only sighed. Lyra levitated the bottle to Bon Bon, but reconsidered passing it to her, seeing that she was now leaning against the wall. She was probably asking herself some deep, philosophical questions about life, universe and everything, including, but not limited to such things as how to end the world hunger, how prices of gems in the Griffon Empire influenced the demand for lemons in Zebrica, and if the pavement was a good place to revisit her supper. Lyra decided not to disturb her and passed the bottle to Berry, who took a sip with a straight face and gave it to Vinyl.

The DJ levitated the bottle and chugged from it, enjoying the moment of feeling the taste of liquor on her tongue, dripping into her throat and warming up her stomach. She closed her eyes, hoping for that moment to last forever.

Then she recognised the taste and almost spat everything out.

“For Celestia’s pituitary gland, what have you bought Berry…” she gasped.

“Something’s wrong?”

“It’s made of mandrake…”

“So? Are you allergic? Should we shove a pipe up your throat to prevent you from suffocating?”

“Not so fast, you don’t deserve the right of shoving anything in any hole in my body. I mean that after mandrake booze, you can, hmm…” She stood up in attention and recited:

“Side effects include: loquacity, logical thinking deficiency, tachycardia, tachypnoe, delirium, increased libido, seeing funny things.”

“What funny things?” Octavia asked, looking at Lyra unsurely.

“Fairies, unicorns… You know, like Sparkler’s 18th birthday, but on acid.”

“Will you ever bugger off?” Lyra asked, glaring at her angrily. “I apologised.”

“Lyra, sweetheart, you still get the accent wrong,” Octavia chuckled. “By the way, I always thought that Sparkler’s 18th birthday was on acid…”

“No, it wasn’t acid, it was just Lyra and her inexplicable animosity towards bathtubs.”

“I can *hic* see four unicorns…” Bon Bon slurred, “Two are green and two are white… Damn unicorns, why you so scary?”

“Not that kind of unicorns… If you see, dunno, pink fluffy unicorns, dancing on rainbows, don’t believe them. These guys are usually up to no good.”

“Well, it’s too late anyway,” Berry said, “We all drank this stuff. Give me the bottle, Vinyl, apparently we’re going on a trip together, so I want to have a drink.”

“One… two… three...”

“Five,” the pony sitting behind the ticket counter prompted.

“Okay, five,” Octavia said, trying to focus on the pony and not on the fact that all the words she said were now floating around her like colourful balloons. “Where does the next train go?”

“Manehattan,” the pony deadpanned. He had seen way too many passengers in his life to care about these five mares, of which none seemed to be right in the head.

“Okay, so… one… two…”

“Five.”

“Five tickets to Manehattan.”

“I’m telling you, mate, it’s a bloody good idea,” Lyra said. “I, like, haven’t been in this bloody town for ages.”

“Yeah, you also have never been in Trottingham in the whole life, ma’am,” the cashier muttered. A bit too loud, or Lyra’s hearing improved after drinking a fair share of the mandrake booze.

“So? Am I bovvered?” Does my face look bovvered? Am I–” Octavia smacked her, knocking her down, and grinned nervously at the cashier.

“I’m sorry for her. She usually isn’t so, umm… mentally challenged, at least in comparison to Vinyl.”

“Still ain’t bovvered!” Lyra shouted from the floor. She stopped when Octavia stomped on her.

“Yeah, I see,” said the cashier, his face expressing pure indifference. “Are you sure you want to go to Manehattan, ma’am?”

“Of course,” Octavia replied, “It’s my mate’s idea.”

“Which one?” the cashier asked, looking at the mares sitting on the benches and, in case of Lyra, lying on the ground. Berry, thanks to her almost indestructible liver, looked the most sober of them; her state greatly improved since the Flutter Ponies that were pestering her for the last twenty minutes flew away. Vinyl, on the other hoof, was now somewhere in outer space, judging by occasional murmurs, such as “Good evening, Nightmare Moon! What a nice weather we have today. The void is always so refreshing after coronal mass ejections,” or “Wooow, from a position I am standing I can see Uranus in a close proximity…” Her state was worrying Octavia – it wasn’t common for her to use words that were three syllables or longer, the sole exception being “pornography”. Bon Bon, who was the only non-high member of the party, was nodding off.

“My new bestie’s, of course!” Octavia laughed, poking Lyra with her hoof. The green unicorn reacted with a stream of invectives, mostly with blatantly fake Trottingham accent.

“Yeah,” the cashier replied. “I can see that you get on really well. Here are your tickets.”

“Thank you, sweetheart.” Octavia waved at him and trotted to her friends. “Move your flanks mates, we have ten minutes… Vinyl are you still on Uranus?”

“I just crashed my cutting-edge, faster-than-light rocket into it.”

“Faster than light?” Berry chuckled, “Just like my ex. Too bad his rocket wasn’t in the same wormhole as yours, though, of course, Pinch is my beloved little filly.”

Suddenly Bon Bon groaned. Everypony turned to her.

“I’m shorry,” she slurred. “But yer wormholes…” She hiccuped. “I’m only intereshted in one wormhole…” She pulled Lyra closer to her.

“See what you’ve done?” the green unicorn said, trying to free herself. “You just had to pull that big, red lever labelled ‘Bonnie the Drunk Pervert’, and now there’s only one way to turn her off, and I can’t do it in front of you…”

“I haven’t been pulling any levers recently, no matter of their colour and size,” said Vinyl with sadness in her voice.

“How about your rocket?” Octavia asked innocently, “There surely are some levers in it.”

“I told you I crashed it…”

“Hmm, if I recall correctly, you already crashed it twice this evening,” Lyra observed. Bon Bon was still hugging her tightly, but at least she stopped trying to wander southwards with her hoof.

“IT IS A CYCLICAL PROCESS, FOOL!” Vinyl shouted, making a theatrical pose. Everypony looked at her.

“Sorry,” she muttered. “I felt like in a theater group again.”

“I think it’s because you don’t pull enough levers,” Octavia commented, giggling.

“At the moment, I’d rather push some buttons, but unfortunately, the only engineer who can repair my rocket’s hyperdrive decided to stay on the Straight Planet.”

“Oh, come on… There are so many mares around and you just have to keep bovv– I mean, bothering me?”

“Hmm…” Vinyl looked around and her eyes focused on Lyra, who had to slap Bon Bon’s hoof again.

“Lyra, honey, I guess when we get on a train you and Bon Bon will want to, umm… work on your relationship a bit. Would you like to perform a little experi–”

“I’m not letting you touch my buttons,” Lyra replied quickly. “And we’re not going to shag on a train!”

“Why not?” Bon Bon asked, “I want to shag on a train! Why haven’t we shagged on a train yet, Lyra?”

“Bonnie, you do realise that you live only because I haven’t decided if I hate you or Vinyl more right now?”

“Hey, but why not a train? We did it on Berry’s kitchen table, why not a train?”

“Vinyl, Octavia, do you, by any chance, want to buy a kitchen table?” Berry asked.

“We didn’t, Berry!” Lyra said quickly.

“We have it on tape…” Bon Bon slurred. Vinyl stared at her in awe, but at the same time Lyra finally lost it: she stood up and smacked Bon Bon with her hoof. It wasn’t very strong, but enough for the yellow mare to fell off the bench.

“Aww…” Vinyl cooed, while Octavia was helping Bon Bon to get up. “I know that left hook well…”

“Ask me about that tape and you’ll get to know it better,” said Lyra, fire raging in her eyes.

“Oh, beat me, while speaking naughty words in Pferdisch...”

“I’m sorry to interrupt your little BDSM session,” Berry deadpanned, “But if you still wanna go to Manehattan, our train just arrived.”

Berry felt her train of thoughts got a bit derailed, something she usually associated with the process of sobering up. Normally, she’d just sleep through that phase, shooing away all the dark, depressive thoughts she usually had while it lasted. Too bad, sleeping in a compartment proved to be quite difficult, with five mares trying to recline on the narrow seats.

Her friends also didn’t help her falling asleep. Just after they left Ponyville, Lyra decided to piss off Bon Bon more, and kissed Vinyl, who was probably even more surprised by that fact that any other of her friends. Bon Bon’s reaction, however, was totally unexpected – she opened the window, stuck her head outside the carriage and threw up.

Berry wasn’t very surprised by that fact – after all, Bon Bon was the most intoxicated of them all. She was actually more surprised by the fact that Lyra managed to kiss Vinyl without following her seemingly ex-marefriend. Especially after the DJ looked at the window, paying special attention to the green and yellow fluid covering the other side of the pane.

“You know, it reminds me how I visited the modern art gallery in Canterlot…” she said, “Remember, Octy? That dude’s paintings looked exactly the same…”

Octavia looked at the window, her face suddenly becoming pale. In combination with her raven mane it gave an effect similar to the mares from the past, fainting at least twice a day, wearing tight corsets, and dying from tuberculosis at the age of twenty two – best age for an important aristocrat’s daughter to die and still look pretty and young in the coffin. Of course, pretty for those ponies who were wont to attend the funerals to admire the mare’s beauty and weren’t above some physical work with a shovel in the middle of the night, after the bereaved family went home. Lack of scoleciphobia was also a vital trait, as well as courage and ability to create an atmospheric entourage. In fact, some aristocrats of the past made an art of doing weird and ambiguously moral things and calling them ‘eccentric.’ That definitely sounded better that ‘strange’ or ‘weird,’ not to mention ‘queer’ or ‘sick buck’.

“I think I’m gonna be sick…” Octavia said, her voice being the faintest whisper, like the sound of the cello string snapping.

“Not here, this is my modern art…” Bon Bon muttered. Octavia gave out a small grunt, something resembling a crack of concrete in a hydroelectric dam, slowly eroded by incoming water. She quickly turned back and ran out of the compartment. Vinyl looked behind her, till she disappeared behind the toilet door.

“You know,” she said, “I could never understand ponies who take themselves romantic photos on the tracks. If you know how toilets on a train work…”

Lyra rolled her eyes. Actually, deep inside her brain, violated by ethanol, slightly battered by THC, and bathed in mandrake alkaloids, she started to regret that she quarreled with Bon Bon, but now it was a choice between her and Vinyl, who at least smelled nice. After a short discussion with her neurons, when glial cell decided to form a small, albeit noisy opposition, she decided to call it a night and sleep by Vinyl’s side, leaving all the pondering for the next day.

Octavia came back and, without saying much, she sat on her seat and fell asleep shortly after, resting her head against Bon Bon’s side. Berry sighed. She just couldn’t go to sleep as easily as her friends and felt that she’d spend the rest of the ride in company of Vinyl, whose nocturnal lifestyle and tendency to become garrulous were legendary. She didn’t have to wait long for the DJ to break the awkward silence.

“Do you know that on a train everypony is a philosopher?”

“Yeah, I’m so keen on philosophy, especially when I’m half drunk, can’t sleep, and my only companion who is awake happens to be an obnoxious DJ. Can we get through this ride without you talking? Please?”

“Oh, if you don’t like philosophy, we can always play a game.”

“No games either. My mind is too occupied with the thought that I forgot about something.”

“We’re travelling to Manehattan, because my brand new marefriend told us so. I guess we all forgot about common sense.”

Berry muttered a curse under her breath. For the first time in her life she had to admit that Vinyl was right.

“So, if I helped you clear your mind, can we play a game?”

Berry sighed and rolled her eyes. She had recently noticed that her daughter also had that habit.

“Okay,” she said, “But I’m doing it only because I want to kill some time…”

“Okay, so I’d kill Bon Bon, marry Octavia and buck Lyra,” said Vinyl, stretching her hooves and patting sleeping Lyra’s head. Berry wanted to sigh and roll her eyes, but she stopped halfway through, remembering how her parents warned her not to do that, showing her her pegasus classmate, who apparently was rolling her eyes so much that one of them finally got stuck.

Berry was never listening to her parents. After she grew up and started her own vineyard, she immediately hired the grey pegasus, who, as the bubbles on her flanks indicated, was very good at making champagne.

“And for you…” Vinyl continued, “Those kids who will carry Ponyville flag during Equestria Games.”

“Geez, Vinyl, stop being creepy, okay? They’re my daughter’s classmates…”

Vinyl ignored her, saying instead:

“Because I’d kill Scootaloo for smoking in Octavia’s garden, buck Sweetie Belle, because she’s so cute, and marry Apple Bloom – she’s so smart, remember how she stung us for fifty bits?”

“Yeah… That’s actually funny, because I’d kill her for the same reason…”

“Oh, I forgot.” Vinyl again made an actress-like pose and recited:

“All the horrors which have befallen me, well, Apple Bloom is to blame…”

“Can you stop doing that? I don’t know if you got the memo, so I’ll tell you: Ponies. Don’t. Eat. Ham.”

“I ate ham once,” said Vinyl, “On a dare, in a griffonian restaurant.”

“And how it was?” Berry asked. Even though Vinyl was sometimes annoying, she was also quite useful for ponykind – she was doing stupid things so other ponies didn’t have to.

“Well, it was, like, one of the best things I did in my life, except maybe a threesome with kirin twins. Too bad, I later spent the whole day sitting on a toilet. Totally worth it though, but it was, like… Hmm... Have you ever seen Neighara Falls?”

Berry groaned. Of course she’d seen Neighara Falls, but now she felt that she’d never look at it the same way again.

“Can we not talk about it?” she asked, “Give me another three. I’d prefer adult stallions.”

“Okay…” Vinyl thought for a moment. “Time Turner, Caramel, Big Macintosh.”

“Hmm… Kill Caramel, because he’s my neighbour and he and Sassaflash are a bit noisy, buck Time Turner because he’s adorable, and marry Big Macintosh, for two reasons.”

“Well, I can see only one, but I have to admit that it’s one of the biggest reasons I’ve seen in my life, and remember that kirins have many dragon traits.”

Berry sighed and almost rolled her eyes. She thought briefly about some novel she’d read, whose protagonist kept rolling her eyes. Then she remembered that after reading she hid that book in her closet, hoping that Berry Pinch would never find it.

“Well, the second reason is that if I married him, Apple Bloom would become my sister-in-law and it would be easier for me to make it look like an accident.”

“You’re monothematic.”

“Said the pony who keeps talking about pulling levers, clicking buttons, kirins’ reasons and her own bowel movements.”

“But I at least want to, like, spread love to the world. Kirins, zebras, mares, stallions… I don’t hate anyone, even you’re welcome.”

“No thanks. I’ve seen enough Petri dishes in a microbiology lab.”

“Hey! It’s not funny!” Vinyl shouted. Octavia opened one eye and muttered something groggily.

“Sorry,” Berry said, “I know, sometimes I should shut up.”

“Yeah… Now I know why Minuette is the only pony who can put up with you. She’s, like, Element of Patience or something…”

“A trait of every good dentist. But, actually I’ve seen her losing it once.”

“No way!” Vinyl exclaimed. Lyra snored a little louder and sink her face in her coat. “Minuette losing it? It’s like, dunno, seeing Fluttershy clubbing baby seals. Even if somepony calls her ‘Colgate’ repeatedly, she only sighs and rolls her eyes.”

Is it infectious? Berry thought. She stared into Vinyl’s red eyes, but it didn’t seem that she wanted to roll them in a foreseeable future. Then she thought that Vinyl wasn’t the best test subject – there was no such thing in the world that would be crazy, immoral, creepy, disgusting, or retarded enough for Vinyl Random Scratch to sigh and roll her eyes.

“Well, there was a guy from Prance we met at the party,” she said, “He kept forgetting that there’s ‘u’ in her name,” she made a weird expression and continued in an angry, high-pitched voice:

“Call me ‘Minette’ one more time and I’ll tie you in my basement and perform a root canal on all your teeth!”

“And what he said?” Vinyl asked, giggling.

“He thought she invited him for… how you call it?”

“Umm… having a lunch box? Eating peaches? Munching a carpet?”

“Why did I ask…”

“You know, I actually knew one mare, her name was Cunning Linguist… She had to wear clothes because her cutie mark was considered inappropriate for little fillies to see. But, I have to admit, she had a talent…”

“Vinyl, you really want me to be scarred for life… And I’m not even drunk enough to forget this conversation.”

“In fact, you look pretty sober. Is it morning already?”

“It seems so.” Berry looked through the window, ignoring a dry, sickeningly green stain in the middle of the pane. The sun was rising, and she could see the bay – they were just crossing the bridge.

“It’s time to wake up our Sleeping Beauties.”

Sleeping Beauties soon turned into the trio of annoyed, hung over mares, smelling of sweat, alcohol, and, in one case, vomit. When Vinyl saw them, with dishevelled manes, bags under their eyes, and with aching muscles, unable to crack their backs – carriages aren’t the most comfortable places to sleep – she thought that if they were given a cauldron and put in some cave, they’d probably start to tell prophecies to every Scottish thane that would happen to wander nearby.

“Can anypony tell me,” Lyra grunted, “Who had that bucking brilliant idea to go to Manehattan?”

“Our bucking brilliant ideas specialist…” Octavia replied, drinking water Vinyl bought when they left the railway station.

“Scratch?” she looked at Vinyl with disdain.

“Hey!” the DJ shouted, causing Bon Bon to wince and cover her ears with her hooves, which wasn’t an easy thing to do for a quadrupedal being. “After we kissed… After I let you use my flank as a pillow… You do such things to me?”

“What have I told you about ponies and ham?” Berry muttered.

“Well, that explains the taste in my mouth…” Lyra continued, and spat on the ground.

“Lyra, while it’s all blurry here, I have a feeling that it was your idea to go to Manehattan…” Octavia said, ignoring the fact that Lyra and Vinyl were currently aiming their horns at one another.

“What? Couldn’t you stop me?”

“I’m sorry, Lyra, but stopping you when you’re intoxicated and get an idea is like trying to stop a freight train by jumping on the tracks. It’s possible but then your liver is closer to your brain than it should be. What’s more, we were also in the state when every idea seems good. Just like Sparkler’s 18th birthday,” Vinyl explained.

“I’m sorry,” Berry said, “But can somepony explain to me what’s going on with Sparkler’s 18th birthday?”

“Maybe later,” Vinyl replied. “Dunno how about you, but I think we all could use a shower. And I know a great place to do that. I can only tell you that it was one of the rare cases when I was the least retarded one.”

“Yeah, apart of the fact that it was your fault,” Octavia muttered.

“It was Lyra’s fault. Nopony made her eat those cookies.”

“Can you stop?” Bon Bon asked, “I’d like to take a shower too. Where can we go?”

“My brother lives here,” said Vinyl. “We only need to get a cab…”

“Oh no, another Scratch?” Berry groaned and rolled her eyes. Then she grunted with frustration when she realised that she did it again. She started to wonder if she should visit a doctor and ask him about that.

“Don’t worry, he’s a nerd. Now, where’s some...” She stepped into the line of ponies waiting for the taxi to come. Berry, also excited by the thought of hot water, decided to make it a bit faster. She bumped into a stallion who was first in line and overtook him.

“Hey!” he shouted, “What in Tartarus are you doing?”

“Skipping the queue, can’t you see?”

“Of course I can!”

“Then why you ask?”

“Because nopony can skip the line! Even if you were a princess, you’d have to wait for–”

“Well, I’m not a pony, I’m a balloon,” Berry said with a barely noticeable giggle, “Blow me.”

She sat in a taxi that just stopped by them. The rest of her friends followed her, Lyra sitting on Bon Bon’s laps – apparently, what happened in Ponyville stayed in Ponyville. Vinyl sat next to them and looked at Octavia with hope in her eyes, but, unfortunately for her, the seat was big enough for her to sit next to the rest of her friends.

“White Horse Street, 42,” Vinyl said to the taxi driver. The carriage moved, overtaking few other taxis. Soon, they left the city centre and headed to the Neighponese district.

“Your brother lives here?” Octavia asked, watching a pair of kirins walking down the pavement.

“Unfortunately not,” the DJ replied, “I keep telling him that he should move to some house next to some cute, Neighponese brothel, but he doesn’t listen to me. Sometimes I think he’s gay.”

“Well, I wouldn’t be surprised…” Berry deadpanned.

“Actually, he’s not. When we were in college, we had a competition, who’d bang more mares.”

Everypony facehoofed. Well, almost everypony, as Lyra looked at Vinyl with interest. She was always fascinated with that trait of the DJ’s personality that some ponies called “being overly honest”, while some other ponies, like Berry, called it “sheer idiocy of an erotomaniac-story teller.”

“And who won?” she asked.

“Me, of course! Though hold your dirty minds, it wasn’t a very impressive competition. Two to one, actually, and he still says that Twilight Sparkle doesn’t count.”

“You what, mate?” Octavia exclaimed, “Seriously, after that trip I won’t be able to look into the eyes of half of Ponyville…”

“Well, he says that it doesn’t count, since she came to me first and said that she want to check something. Like, an experiment. Then things escalated quickly. Well, don’t tell him that, but actually, we only kissed a few times and that was it.”

“Too bad, we’d have such a great blackmail material,” Bon Bon said, “I wonder who was that second lucky mare…”

“Me.” Lyra smiled sheepishly. “It was a stage of me discovering my, umm… preferences.”

The whole world held its breath. Bon Bon looked at Lyra. Lyra looked back at Bon Bon. Octavia looked at Vinyl. Vinyl tried to look as innocent as she could. It wasn’t easy, as her innocent expression was similar to, for example, Nightmare Moon’s, when she was telling ponies that all she wanted was the greater good.

Berry sighed and rolled her eyes.

Author's Notes:

It was supposed to be a one-shot, but it got out of control...