“I still have a bad feeling about this.”

“Come on, dude, don't be a foal. It's awesome!”

I crossed my forelegs and frowned at the blue unicorn in front of me as the cool spring breeze touched my cheeks while we flew in our chariot. Loose Change was a player, a wild kind of stallion whose confidence was borne from how ridiculously wealthy he was. His family owned a wildly successful quill and sofa business that supplied nearly every furniture store in Equestria. Loose lived large and he knew it; any adventure he could think of, he went on without any regard for how much it might end up costing him. He's the kind of stallion who would rent an airship, crash it because all he did was glance at the cover of the flight manual, and just throw bits at the ship's owner until he'd paid off the whole thing twice over.

Still, he had a good heart, and he was probably my best friend at the moment. I lived in Cloudsdale growing up, and when the new Cloudsdale-Canterlot weather liaison program started I signed up and was moved out here on royal funds. Well, it was more like my parents, being the loving, caring individuals they were, bucked me out of the house the day I became an adult. I can't blame them, no pegasus would want to be caught dead rearing their foals longer than they need to; being independent is strongly encouraged, so much so that I knew a bunch of colts from high school signed up for the Cloudsdale Royal Guard branch just so they'd have a place to sleep. Gotta love that old warrior culture, I guess. Still, parents were almost always extremely supportive of their foals, even well into adulthood. My own mom and dad still sent me fresh baked cookies every month and helped with my expenditures whenever they could. Which...was more often than I'd like to admit. My salary, while by no means meager, just barely covered the cost of basic life in the nation's capital. I could pay my rent and eat, but if I wanted to do something fun, like take a filly to a “world-famous” theater (which is what every theater in Canterlot called themselves, strangely) for an evening, I'd need to dip into the reserve funds.

I met Loose Change at a fancy schmancy royal event that for some strange reason the host saw fit to invite me to. So there I was, in my old 50 bit suit that clashed hideously with my pea-green fur, standing around while ambassadors and businessponies chatted idly while their necks broke from the two-tons of jewelry they wore. After Princess Celestia gave a little speech about cooperation and ditched the gathering for more important things, I felt like just spreading my wings and flying out of there. Suddenly, I was approached by this young stallion who introduced himself as Loose Change. At first, I thought it was some rich colt hoping to poke fun at the poor fish-out-of-water. Still, mother always taught me to be polite...

“I'm Sunflower Showers. I'm a representative of the new weather-coalition program,” I said to the young stallion.

“Horseapples,” Loose Change told me outright, “You're just like the rest of us who got some random invitation and saw it as an excuse to feel high and mighty.”

His casual bluntness and general disregard of normal etiquette shocked me to the core. Naturally, we hit it off, and decided to pal around each other for the rest of the night. Hijinks ensued, and Loose and I narrowly escaped being caught for arson (which totally wasn't our fault, I swear on Celestia's mane), but I always say it's not good to dwell too long on the past. Point is, that night we shared a bond that would grow into a wonderful friendship. Though, sometimes I did feel like Loose tried pushing lifestyles of the rich and famous a bit TOO much into my face.

Like right now...

Loose decided that, seeing as how all our other friends were busy, he'd treat me to dinner tonight at some really exclusive cliff-side restaurant in the middle of nowhere. I had only heard rumors of it until Loose told me the kind of stuff that goes on there. I wouldn't have believed it, had it not come straight from the horse's mouth. Apparently, the place was a normal 5-star restaurant with a twist. You paid up front, and they'd bring you some of the finest food in Equestria, doting on your every whim. Until, that is, it was time for dessert...

My thoughts were interrupted when our chariot suddenly hit the ground and stopped, making me lurch forward violently.

“Alright colts! We're here at The Starving Pony!” the chariot-puller yelled.

I gingerly stepped out of the ornate chariot, and finally got a good look at this place. It was mindbogglingly huge, almost like a castle. Thick foliage dangled down from the top; I surmised that this place had a rooftop garden so that it would better blend in with the dense forest that extended all the way to the cliff's edge. I was shocked; I'll admit I wasn't scanning the forest like a hawk while our chariot was flying, but to have missed something like this? It was embarrassing to me as a pegasus. There had to be some sort of funky enchantment on this place, but then again, I didn't know a lick of magic and whether or not that was even possible.

The clearing the chariot had landed in was still a little ways away from the large, ornate front door of the establishment. I turned back to my friend, who was shoving a bag of bits into the chariot-pony's hoof. Loose muttered a few words, probably instructing the stallion when to come back for our ride home. It was...comforting to know that there WOULD be a ride home, at least.

Loose finished his business, and the chariot wasted no time flying off.

“Come on, let's go,” Loose said as he trotted past me, fully expecting me to follow him as he bravely marched towards seeming oblivion. Seeing as how he had paid a hefty sum getting here, I felt compelled to follow, even though I so desperately wanted to spread my wings and fly straight back to my cozy flat. As we walked closer towards the edge of the cliff, we could more and more see the beautiful blue waters of the Horseshoe Bay below. The setting sun cast a brilliant golden gleam on the water's surface that extended towards the horizon, and the gentle, salty sea breeze was cool and relaxing on my fur. I had to admit, this establishment did have a great location.

As we approached the large, finely decorated marble door to the restaurant, it began to glow and slowly opened, beckoning Loose Change and I inside with visions of bright lights and soft music. With trembling legs, I hesitated at the portcullis. Loose went in ahead of me and began to speak with the formally dressed earth pony receptionist before he noticed that I had left his side.

“Hey!” he said, turning his head back to glare at me, “Don't be a wimp, dude.”

With his encouragement, I found the strength to shakily step into the restaurant, walking slowly to my friend's side. I was immediately struck by how beautiful this place was. Massive crystal chandeliers hung everywhere, scattering the light of huge nests of brightbeetles built into the ceiling. The floors and paneling were made of a dark, rich wood, with gold and silver trim adding an almost overwhelming display of nobility. A large archway to the side opened up the the main floor of the restaurant, where a group of musicians played classical music incessantly. An uncharacteristically burly-looking unicorn stood guard at the arch, probably some sort of bouncer or security. I wondered why this place would even bother; I couldn't imagine this place got much rabble.

“Come on, Sunflower, we're going to have a great time!” Loose said before he turned back to the receptionist. “Sorry, it's his first visit.”

“Aaaah, a new visitor!” the receptionist said in a thick accent as she glanced towards me. Maybe she was from Prance? Germaneigh? It was hard to nail down. “Well, any friend of Loose Change is a friend of ours!" The receptionist turned back to my host. “How can I be of service to you two today?”

“Two full course meals, Ms. Penstroke,” Loose replied earnestly.

“I assume zat ze masters shall be staying for dessert too?”

“You betcha!”

“Splendid!” the receptionist said with a disgustingly innocent tone. “Very well, zen, two dinners and two desserts. I shall even throw in a 10% discount for your friend, Master...”

“Showers, Sunflower Showers,” I told her.

“Master Showers! I understand your apprehension, but rest assured, this establishment takes good care of her patrons.”

The receptionist's words didn't comfort me in the slightest, but I did appreciate her effort.

Ms. Penstroke began to scribble something down on her notepad, pausing for a brief moment before her lips continued to deftly manipulate her pencil. Once she had finished, she laid the notepad and pencil back on her desk. “Zat shall be three-thouzand two-hundred and eighty-eight bits, Master Change.”

I almost choked when I heard that amount. Three thousand two hundred and eighty eight bits? For a single night of anything? No matter how "great" this place was, that was still insane, even for Loose! I was going to say something, but Loose immediately levitated a huge bag of bits out of his saddlebag and plopped it on the receptionist's desk with a mighty thud.

“That should cover it. Keep the change, dear,” Loose said without even skipping a beat.

“Oh ho ho, Master Change iz too kind...”

Ms Penstroke beckoned over the suited stallion who had been waiting off to the side. “Gentlecolts, zis stallion shall seat you. Have a wonderful evening.”

Without saying a word, the stallion began walking into the main floor of the restaurant, Loose and I following instinctively. I could see it was here that the dining actually took place, with servants running to and fro while delivering huge carts of wondrous-looking dishes to the stunning black marble tables. Much to my relief, we weren't the only ponies dining here tonight; I could spy roughly two dozen other ponies scattered among the tables, most in pairs or groups of three, with a few lone wolves sitting in throne-like single seats. Our escort stopped in front of two gold-lavender sofas centered around another marble table, this one white, and we took it as an invitation to sit down.

“Pretty neat, huh?” Loose said.

The sound of Loose's voice broke me out of my dumbstruck stupor. “Three thousand two hundred and eighty eight bits!?” A said with a forceful whisper, trying keep my voice down while also yelling at Loose like the idiot he was. “That's more than I make in a month!”

“Dude, relax, you're only in Canterlot for a short time probably, I want you to experience the life of an aristocrat while you can.” Loose told me in his trademark nonchalant tone. He was a good friend, but somewhere in the back of my mind I think he threw ridiculous amounts of money around in front of me to compel me to go in on his harebrained schemes.

I would have given him a piece of my mind, but soon another stallion, this one tall and lanky with an utterly ridiculous mustache, cleared his throat right next to me. It almost made me jump; between the music playing and the lush carpet, I didn't even hear him trot up.

“Monsieurs, I will be your waiter tonight.”

Definitely Prench, this one. With a flick of his white horn, a giant menu appeared in front of me on my sofa, illuminating the area with a yellow flash. Despite the circumstances, I couldn't help but crack a smile. Conjuration was one of my favorite tricks to watch and seeing the yellow sparks fade reminded me of all those magic shows my dad used to take me to whenever we found ourselves on the ground.

“Monsieur Showers,” the waiter said, breaking me out of my trance. “I understand zat zis is your first visit with us. Due to ze nature of our service, we require zat guests choose a dessert immediately, so zat it may be prepared while you dine.”

“Oh, alright,” I said as I started to flip through the menu with my snout, looking for the dessert section. Loose's voice cut me off.

“Sunflower, the ponies here are good. Just tell them what your favorite treat is and they'll make it,” he said.

I hesitated for a moment. Favorite treat...favorite treat...

“Um, I, uh, like cupcakes,” I said with a wavering voice, a bit confused about the sudden request.

“Ah, very well monsieur,” said the waiter as a magically floating pencil jotted my order down. “And you, Monsieur Change?”

My buddy smacked his hoof on his sofa with enthusiasm. “BANANA SPLIT!” he hollered.

“Aaah, exzellent taste, Monsieur. Please, take your time with your order. When you are ready, just flag down one of ze other waiters. Your package includes whatever your pleasure may be, so please, enjoy.”

And with that, the lanky stallion was gone, trotting over to another couple halfway across the room.

I began to leaf through the pages of the menu with my snout, looking down at lists of bizarrely-named dishes. Hay au Flambe, cucumber perrot, boiled oats with caviar, everything sounded weird and foreign to me. There were no pictures or descriptions, so I assumed that the ponies this restaurant usually served already knew these kinds of dishes.

“Well, Loose, have any recommendations?” I asked absentmindedly while I continued to scan the page. Cloud-kissed mushrooms? That might be good...

“Let's just order one of everything and be done with it,” Loose said.

I looked up from my menu. “You don't think that wouldn't be too much?”

Loose shrugged. “I shelled out some serious gold here, it being too much should be expected. Besides, it's not like ponies pay for the food here...”

My friend waved his hoof around and flagged down a passing waitress, a cream-colored mare with an unusually large snout.

“Give us a full sampler, a little of everything on the menu, please,” Loose dictated professionally. It's like even simple things such as ordering food had to be done extravagantly with him. The mare, almost contrarily, simply gave a quick nod and sped off towards a door leading to what I assumed to be the kitchen. Loose then stretched out on his sofa and turned back to me once more. “This way, you'll get to try out a bunch of things and see what you like.”

He did have a point; usually when Loose took me out with his friends, I just settled for something simple like a hayburger to avoid embarrassment. Everything just sounded so intimidating at these kinds of places, and I didn't want to be “that stallion” who ordered something and ended up never touching it past the first bite.

A shrill dinging filled my ears, and I turned to see that our waiter was back, joined by a train of oversized carts filled to the brim with covered silver platters. One by one, she levitated them onto the white marble table, revealing each and every dish once it was in its place. The first one was a greenish thick-looking soup, the second a pile of fried hay with an egg on top, the third an exotic blue fruit with a dragon's face carved into it. The smorgasbord seemed to keep coming, each dish more appetizing than the last. Though some creative stacking, the mare surprisingly managed to just barely fit everything onto our table, before taking her caravan of now-empty carts back into the kitchen. I could feel my mouth water as I gazed upon the feast before me.

“Wow, how did they manage to cook all this that quickly?” I asked in amazement. The waitress had only been gone a minute, maybe two.

Loose had already started to dig in. “Magic,” he muffled with some orange leaves half sticking out of his mouth.

Ugh, unicorns. Though, my casual racism could wait. I hadn't eaten since noon and my belly felt like an empty void that so desperately needed to be filled. Following Loose's initiative, I started shoveling food into my muzzle, relishing the exotic taste and refined flavors. As we ate, Loose and I started to talk to pass the time, just about life, fillies, things that have been happening around the city, you know, idle chit-chat. We spent a particular amount of time discussing the fallout of Princess Luna's appearance at this year's Chuckle-lot last week. Neither of us went, but it was all in the newspapers the next day. Some ponies thought it a riot, others thought it was scandalous. I like to classify the latter as, “ponies I'd like to never be friends with.” Either way, it seems like the princess of the night was the talk of the town, and our dinner table.

Our talk seemed to go on for hours, and all the dishes looked more and more like swiss cheese from all of our nibbling. I tried just about everything, and it was the most full that I had felt in a long time. I stopped eating and just lounged back on my sofa, content to just take a breather and let Loose Change still go at it. I swear, that stallion was like a vacuum cleaner, yet he was as skinny as a twig. I wondered where he could put it all, but then figured that he'd probably balloon up like his dad when Loose got older.

Looking around, the restaurant had become considerably emptier, and I began to realize that I didn't know how late it was. I scanned my eyes and couldn't find a clock, and neither of us were carrying pocketwatches. It was also the first time I noticed this whole place didn't have any windows. In fact, the only exits from this dining area was the archway to the front desk and the massive double-door leading to the kitchen. Whoever designed this place must have wanted the utmost privacy for guests, for better or worse.

While I had my eyes on the kitchen doors, I noticed the same lanky waiter who had first greeted us walking out and making a beeline for our table.

“Hey Loose, that one waiter is heading towards us,” I whispered.

“Hmmph?” Loose looked up in surprise, his mouth full of steamed hay, before quickly swallowing it with a massive gulp before the waiter arrived at our table.

“Monsieurs, I must inform you zat ze dessert is finished and ready whenever you are,” the waiter said in his thick Prench accent.

Loose shot me a look. “You full, Sunflower?” he asked.

“Yeah,” I replied, “I'm stuffed. It was all so good.”

My companion got up off his sofa with a heave. “Let's go then,” he said as he began to follow the waiter pony towards the kitchen doors.

I took one last stretch on the sofa before hopping off myself. “Alright,” I said as I caught up to Loose, “but I think I might be too stuffed for dessert.”

“The dessert's not for us, remember?”