Weeks later, after cleaning all the blood from the walls and promising she’d never grab a bottle of whiskey again, Diamond Tiara would admit that she had known the night would be one to remember the moment somepony knocked at her door.

Of course, truth be told, everypony had known that the night would be one to remember from the get-go. It was a huge celebration, after all, and she had bought enough alcohol to drown a bohemian whale.

But that knocking? Yeah, that was the real deal. They were the kind of knocks that, if written, would have been in cursive and slightly paler than the rest of the story. The evening really started with that.

Silver Spoon was the one who opened the door. And, after seeing who was at the other side, she smiled like a hungry cat who just saw his wife giving birth. “Hel-lo,” she said, in that sultry yet nerdy way only ponies with glasses can pull off. “Welcome.”

“Heya!” The Cutie Mark Crusaders, all three plus one of them, answered with a huge grin and walked inside. Apple Bloom was carrying two bottles of something that looked dangerously homebrewed. “How’s it going? Happy birthday, Diamond Tiara! Nopony here yet?”

Her words echoed, answering her question pretty neatly, if one might say. For the first time in many years, Maison du Riche—Diamond Tiara’s place—was completely empty. Maison du Riche, the obscenely imposing mansion that had been Ponyville’s personal ode to opulence and tackiness for generations. Marble, velvet, glass, diamonds… if it was of poor taste, then it was in Maison du Riche.

“Thanks!” Diamond Tiara gave her a hug, and Apple Bloom made sure to pat her on the back affectionately. “And no, it’s still too early.” She nodded at Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo, hugging and hoof-bumping each one respectively, then looked at the fourth mare. “Babs! It’s been a whi—woah.” She blinked, then arched an eyebrow. “Wow. Seriously?”

Babs frowned and took a step back. “What?” She noticed Silver Spoon was looking at her with an arched eyebrow too, and her frown deepened. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Uh?” Silver Spoon shook her head. “Ah. No, sorry, it’s just—”

“It’s just that wow,” Diamond Tiara interrupted. “Short mane, short tail, right ear pierced, scissors as a cutie mark. Got the full checklist there, girl. Subtle, you are not.”

“Hey!” Babs’ covered her right flank with her tail. “The cutie mark is not about me being a lesbian!”

Silence. Everypony stared at Babs.

“Uh.” She bit her lip, “it’s just a little bit about me being a lesbian?”

More silence. More staring. Scoots was squinting a little.

Babs lowered her head. “It’s mostly about me being a lesbian.”

“Glad to see we’re being honest,” Diamond Tiara said, patting Babs on the head. “Anyway! Don’t stay out there, come inside! The rest are arriving soon, I know.”

“Yeah!”

“Woohoo!”

“Dude.” Babs looked at Silver Spoon as she closed the door. “Is it that obvious? I mean, I don’t want to get into trouble or—”

“Trouble?” Silver Spoon waved a hoof dismissively. “Bah. This is Ponyville, Babs. We don’t hate.”

“Seriously?” Babs asked as they both walked towards the living room. “Isn’t Ponyville, like, Redneck Town Number One?”

“Number Two. One’d be Appleloosa. But the female-to-male ratio in this place is around eight to one, so unless you harvest a good number of cucumbers in your garden, you better experiment.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” It’s a miracle how condescending a simple gesture like taking one’s glasses off and cleaning them against one’s fur could look, if done well. Silver Spoon had mastered that art long ago, as Babs just witnessed. “Hell, I’m fairly sure you’re the only one in this house Apple Bloom hasn’t shagged.”

“What?” Babs’ ears moved forward, as if trying to get what Silver Spoon had really said. Her earring tingled. “Oh, no, no, no. I don’t buy that. Apple Bloom is a purebreed Apple—straight as an arrow, I know that as a fact.”

“Oh, yeah. She is.” Silver Spoon looked at the living room. “HEY, APPLE BLOOM!”

“YES?!”

“IS THERE ANYPONY IN THIS HOUSE RIGHT NOW YOU HAVEN’T SHAGGED YET?!”

“YEAH! BABS SEED OVER THERE!”

Silver Spoon nodded. “THOUGHT SO!”

“BUT AH’M A REDNECK, SO GIVE IT TIME!”

“Yeah.” Silver Spoon turned to Babs again and gave her a petite smile. “Straight as an arrow. Welcome to Ponyville!”

“Wow. That’s—damn.” Babs shook her head. “Going through puberty here must be an experience.”

A shrug. “Meh. Town’s ravaged every other Saturday, so you get a mix of existential dread and sexual awakening. Mixed bag.” Diamond Tiara appeared to their rights and gave them two plastic cups full of beer. Silver Spoon took a sip. “Thanks!”

“You’re welcome!” Diamond Tiara winked at them and put her forelegs over their shoulders. “Feel free to take anything you want, girls! We have alcohol to spare, enough food for an army, security measures for the private times, and one set of sexy lingerie!”

Silver Spoon frowned. “Sexy lingerie?”

“Sexy lingerie!”

“What the hell do you want sexy lingerie for?”

“Oh.” Diamond Tiara shook her head. “Trust me: that one is paying off big time. Anyway, remember: beer first, then liquor, and once we’re done we’ll gather around and drink that stuff Apple Bloom made herself.”

“Herself? You mean the Apple Family didn’t help?”

“Nah, she brewed it in her bathtub. You see, I promised Dad we would be responsible tonight.”

“Oh.” Silver Spoon blinked. “Well, then we have to get messed up.”

“It’s only natural.”

“And then,” Filthy Rich said, resting his elbow on the counter of Sugarcube Corner, “Diamond Tiara promised me—actually promised, she said those exact words—that she would be ‘responsible and trustworthy’ and that there would be no problem whatsoever.”

Mrs. Cake covered her mouth with a hoof. “Oh, my,” she said. “She is going to get messed up, isn’t she?”

“I’d be disappointed if that’s not the case. I’m looking forward to tomorrow.” He suppressed a shudder. “And, hey, this time Silver Spoon will get drunk away from me, which is a nice change.”

“Do I want to ask?”

“Not really.”

“Of course, of course.” Mrs. Cake nodded thoughtfully. “Do you want me to ask Pinkie if she can lend you her favorite airhorn?”

“It would be wonderful, yes—ah?” Filthy Rich felt somepony patting him on the shoulder, and turned around.

Behind him was Pumpkin Cake, Mrs. Cake’s daughter. She was a tall and slim teenager, with striking blue eyes, long eyelashes, and freckles all over her face. “Mister Filthy Rich?” she asked, her tone as polite as a teenager’s voice could be. “Excuse me, but did you say Diamond Tiara is throwing a party?”

“Pumpkin!” Mrs. Cake frowned at her from the other side of the counter. “Don’t bother our customers! Table two is calling for you!”

Filthy Rich raised a hoof and shook his head. “It’s not a bother, Mrs. Cake. Really.” He looked at Pumpkin. “Well, my daughter swore that she was just having a private meeting with some friends, so I’m willing to bet she’s going to throw the biggest party in the last seven years, yes.”

“Cool! Thanks, Mister Filthy Rich!” Pumpkin smiled at him and headed for Table two, but not before turning to her mother one more time. “Mom? Me and Pound Cake will finish early today, okay? I promise we’ll be responsible and behave properly!”

There was a moment of silence as both Filthy Rich and Mrs. Cake watched Pumpkin Cake walk away.

Then Filthy Rich let out a wistful sigh. “They grow up so fast, don’t they?”

“I’m sure Pinkie Pie can spare an airhorn for me, too.”

“Okay, small question?” Sweetie Belle screamed, trying to make herself heard on top of the music. She wasn’t exactly dancing—more like just stumbling gently in a rhythmical fashion. “Diamond Tiara? I thought you had invited around twenty ponies tops?”

“Indeed!” Diamond Tiara replied.

“Because I think there are a little more than twenty ponies here!”

“Yeah! I lost count at one hundred and fifty!”

“Cool. Just wanted to make sure!” Sweetie Belle’s ears perked up. “Oh, hey, I know this mixtape! I love the next song!”

Diamond Tiara smiled and rested her elbow on the table as she saw Sweetie Belle trying to get to the dancefloor, entering into the crowd like a gastroenterologist enters a pretty boy’s butt, and then somepony tapped her shoulder.

“Hey!” Apple Bloom said, showing her the bottle of whiskey she was carrying. “Ah just upgraded from the beer!”

“Welcome change!” Diamond Tiara raised her cup as Apple Bloom filled it with the liquor. “Also, Sweetie Belle’s going to dance.”

“Woah. Nice.” Apple Bloom grinned. “Ah wanna see that.”

“Hey, Apple Bloom!” Silver Spoon descended the stairs and walked to them from the other side of the room. “I—oh, nice, whiskey, fill my cup—I just shagged your cousin!”

“You did?”

Silver Spoon beamed. “I did!”

A pause.

“I mean, either that, or I dry-humped Diamond Tiara’s pillow for forty minutes. Not gonna lie, both are equally possible. I’m kind of drunk.”

“Oh, for crying out loud.” Diamond Tiara glared. “Aren’t you charming sometimes, Silver Spoon.”

“The pillow probably agrees with you!”

Diamond Tiara sighed. “Well, at least this time Dad wasn’t home.”

Apple Bloom looked at them. “Uh. Do Ah wanna know what you’re talkin’ about?”

“No.”

“Pillow-talk only.”

“Gugh.” Apple Bloom punched Silver Spoon on the shoulder, gently. “You hornball. Also, Sweetie Belle is goin’ to dance!”

Silver Spoon’s eyes lightened up. “She is?”

“Yeah!”

“Ah!” Apple Bloom looked to their left, past a group of five colts—Snips and Snails included! That was nice, Apple Bloom would go and say hi to them later—that were apparently really busy discussing important stuff like philosophy and metaphysics and if round flanks were better than slim flanks, and waved. “Speak of the devil. Hey, Babs!”

“Cousin!” Babs trotted to them, not without difficulty. “Oh, Luna, I love this party. I need to visit Ponyville more often.”

“Gettin’ tail?”

“Like there’s no tomorrow.”

Apple Bloom nodded sagely. “Good, good. Frickle-frackled with Silver Spoon, right?”

“Kind of? Sixty percent of the time was dedicated to Diamond Tiara’s pillow. Pretty weird, but hey, I’m open-minded.”

“Hah. Toldya” Silver Spoon elbowed Diamond Tiara and raised a hoof. “Drunkenly scored on a forty percent ratio. Up top.”

“You’re going to clean that pillow tomorrow.”

“Hey, don’t go away yet!” Apple Bloom took Babs’ cup and filled it with whiskey as Silver Spoon and Diamond Tiara hoof-bumped behind her. The cup was already filled with something else, and neither of them cared. “Stay for a second!”

Babs made a pout and pointed. “But that mare in there seems extremely heterosexual! You know what that means!”

Apple Bloom looked. “Who do you mean? Twist? Hah!” She tapped Babs on the shoulder. “Sorry, she’s off limits.”

“What? Why?”

“Silver Spoon hates her. Outta your league.” Apple Bloom shrugged. “Anyway, stay for ten minutes!” She grabbed her by the shoulders and pointed. “Sweetie Belle is gonna dance!”

“So?”

Silver Spoon popped her head from behind Apple Bloom. “You’ve never seen Sweetie Belle dancing, have you?”

Diamond Tiara popped her head from behind SIlver Spoon. “You don’t know what life is until you see the Sweetie Shuffle.”

“Is it worth ten minutes of me not trying to shag another extremely heterosexual mare?”

“Yes.”

“Eeyup.”

“Definitely.”

A moment of silence.

“Huh.” Babs raised her cup at them. “I’m gonna be honest with you: that piqued my curiosity big time.” She drifted her attention to the dancefloor—Sweetie Belle was there, standing in the middle of a perfect circle, the crowd giving her a lot of space. “So when does it start?”

“Well, the next song is about to start, so—Ah!” Diamond Tiara pointed and jumped in place. “Now!”

Almost everypony in the room looked at Sweetie Belle on Diamond Tiara’s cue.

Minutes later, Babs remembered she had muscles on her jaw, and somehow managed to close her mouth. “Damn,” she eventually said. “That’s just—damn.”

“Uh-huh.” Diamond Tiara never took her eyes out of Sweetie Belle. “Impressive, isn’t it?”

“I just—I’ve never seen something like this in my life,” Babs said. Her voice was that of a mare who has found peace and the meaning of life. “It’s amazing.”

“The best part,” Silver Spoon said, leaning a little towards Babs, “is that she doesn’t really do it on purpose, I think.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” Silver Spoon took a gulp of her drink. It burned her throat, pleasantly so. “As far as I know, she doesn’t know what to do with her tail, so she just, you know. Lifts it.”

“Wow.”

“Yes.”

“Eeyup.”

“Definitely.”

They kept staring. Sweetie Belle made a particularly impressive shake, and the crowd gasped in unison.

“Oh, boy.” Apple Bloom took a gulp of her whiskey and then blew air out her nose, like a bull facing a cheese maker. “Sweetie Shuffle’s next’!”

“Wait.” Babs frowned. “You mean this isn’t all?”

“No, no, the Sweetie Shuffle is even bet—HERE IT COMES!”

And then, as the prophecies had foretold, Sweetie Belle did the Sweetie Shuffle.

The sky opened in half. Angels sang songs of hope and happiness. The ocean tasted sweeter with the tears of the sirens.

The earth rumbled. In the peak of the tallest mountain, a grey mare gave birth to the seven ponies who would save or destroy the world. The Elder Dragon who had seen the beginning of Creation found peace at last and closed his eyes for the last time.

The world shook. Dancers everywhere knew that, no matter what they did from that moment on, they would never top that. If you had asked them what that was, they would have said they had no idea. But deep inside, they knew.

At the party, at least three ponies had to sit down. One fainted completely. Many discovered that sexuality is surprisingly relative, and an unlucky fella locked himself in the bathroom and wouldn’t come out for at least two hours.

Babs just stared like nopony had stared before. Her pupils had grown like watermelons, but she had stars in her eyes.

“Luna, Celestia, and Twilight Sparkle,” she muttered. “I have gazed upon eternity.”

“Ah’ve known that mare since we were lil’ foals,” Apple Bloom said, pouring herself another glass. “It never gets old.”

“A shame it’s already over,” Diamond Tiara said. “It always feels too short.”

“What? Over?” Babs looked at them, the stars in her eyes going supernova. “What are you talking about? This can’t be over! She’s still dancing!”

“Yeah, but she did the Sweetie Shuffle, so—ah. See?” Silver Spoon pointed. “Scootaloo is already on the dancefloor. Show’s over.”

Babs frowned. “What? Why does that matter?”

“Well, pegasi used to have mating dances, and Scootaloo never really learned how to control her instincts,” Diamond Tiara said. “Her childhood being that weird and all. So she’s going to start courting Sweetie Belle now.”

“Courting? What do you m—”

“GAWK!” Scootaloo yelled. “GAWK GAWK GAWK GAWK GAWK GAWK GAWK GAWK GAWK GAWK!”

The crowd stopped staring. Everypony went back to their business.

“GAWK GAWK GAWK GAWK GAWK GAWK!”

Sweetie Belle blushed, looked at the floor, rubbed her foreleg, and giggled.

“GAWK GAWK GAWK GAWK GAWK GAWK!”

“Celestia.” Babs shivered and drank her cup in just one go. She barely felt it. In the corner of her eye, she could see Scootaloo was hopping around Sweetie Belle now. “Sweet Celestia.”

“Eeyup.” Apple Bloom nodded. “Instincts plus alcohol plus Sweetie Shuffle. Always happens.”

Scootaloo started rubbing her tail and wings against the carpet, trying to rub her smell on it to claim it as her territory. “GAWK GAWK GAWK GAWK GAWK GAWK!”

“Gotta admit it, though,” Apple Bloom said, pouring Babs another drink. “Scoots’ got game.”

“No, no.” Diamond Tiara shook her head and leaned on Snails, trying to get her balance back. “You don’t get it—round is always better, because you get more to grab than if it’s slim, right?”

“Yeah, but slim looks better!” Snips said. “Slim looks really nice!”

“And what does that tell us of the meaning of life, I wonder,” Rumble said, his tone grave. “Were you determined to prefer that kind of ass, or was it truly your own decision?”

Snips looked at Rumble. “Chose it. I saw Sweetie Belle dancing.”

Silence.

“Oh.” Rumble looked down and scratched his chin. “Well, okay. That answers the whole ‘free will’ question I guess.”

“Also, Sweetie’s flank is slim, which obviously means that—”

“Tut, tut, tut, I’m stopping you right there.” Diamond Tiara raised a hoof, still leaning against Snails, and Snips shut his mouth. “Because—and I’m pretty sure you all agree with me—Sweetie Belle’s otherworldly, and thus I hereby declare that any argument by example that uses her when talking about flanks is forbidden. Those in favor, say ‘Aye’.”

“AYE!” the five colts replied.

Diamond Tiara nodded. “Thank you. Snips, you may proceed.”

“Hm.” Snips wrinkled his muzzle and squinted, then looked at Diamond Tiara. “Well, your flank’s kinda slim too?”

“Damn. Compelling argument.”

“Thanks.”

“DT!” Babs stumbled from upstairs, a goofy grin on her face. “Hey, seriously, amazing part—agh! Hey, look where you’re going!” She pushed Twist aside. “Amazing party! I’m moving to Ponyville after this!”

Diamond Tiara frowned. “What did you call me?”

“DT!” Babs pronounced it Datey. “That’s your name now!”

“Oh. Well, it could be worse.” Diamond Tiara grabbed Babs by the shoulders and pointed at the five colts she’d been talking to—Snips, Snails, Rumble, Featherweight, and a little blue guy named Shady Daze. “Care to join our argument? We would benefit from an expert!”

“Expert?” Babs giggled. “What are you arguing about?”

“Flanks.”

“Oh. Yeah, I’m all for that.”

“What do you mean, she’s an expert?” Featherweight asked. He was half-sitting, half-laying on the floor, his words slurrier than a racist comment. “And who’s this girl anyway?”

“Babs Seed,” Diamond Tiara said, now leaning on her instead of on Snails. “Apple family! And look at her cutie mark!”

They looked.

They looked again.

“Okay, if that’s not an expert, I don’t know what it is,” Rumble eventually said. “Love the short mane, by the way. Really subtle.”

“Right?” Diamond Tiara said. “We need to play Truth or Dare later, Babs, I just have to ask you about the cutie mark. Anyway! Babs, do you prefer slim or—”

BLAM!

Silence filled the house for a heartbeat, as everypony paused their conversations and looked at the door. A second BLAM! quickly followed, and they all flinched when they saw the main door of the Maison du Riche bend inwards with the blow.

“Woah.” Babs was the first one regaining her composure. She nudged Diamond Tiara. “Hey, somepony’s bangin’ at your door, DT.”

“Not ‘banging’,” Diamond Tiara said. The alcohol was gone from her voice, Babs noticed. And there was a funny gleam in her eye. “Pounding. They’re pounding. Do you mind helping me? I don’t think I can walk there on my own.”

“But of course.”

The party noise slowly filled the room again, and the five colts continued their conversation as if nothing had happened while Babs got up and helped Diamond Tiara do the same. The door got slammed two more times before they managed to get there, and Diamond Tiara opened it with a lusty look. “Well, well, well. I almost thought you would never appear.”

“You didn’t invite us!”

“Oh, come on. That’s beside the point.” Diamond Tiara winked at them and took a step to the side to let them in. “You know you’re always welcome to come inside.”

She gave that last part a weird intonation. Babs would have said something about it, but she was too busy getting her jaw up from the floor.

The two ponies at the other side of the door looked very alike and completely different at the same time, something that should be impossible unless talking about the body symmetry of the female of a mammal species.

But still, they pulled it off. Now, the one on the right—the mare—wasn’t that weird. A tall teenager, not as much slim as skinny, with striking blue eyes, long eyelashes, and more freckles than banjos in a redneck house.

And then there was the one on the left. The stallion.

Now, the sentence “I would smash my brains against his chest just to touch his muscles in a more intimate way” was, at least in Babs’ opinion, really overused in the current times. But of course, sometimes a cliché is a cliché for a reason. The young, cream-colored pegasus in front of her was more orangutan than pony. With each movement, a thousand muscles flexed and relaxed, and the more you looked the more you found.

And his wings. Oh, his wings. If the word ‘sex’ could be explained with a non-pornographic picture, Babs thought, it would be just that guy’s wings. And a round flank somewhere close, too, but mostly the wings.

The guy smiled at Babs, and Babs flinched. There was something weird—like, a connection between them. She got confused for a moment, then quietly told her brain that, hey, I thought we weren’t into this side of the chromosome spectrum.

To which the brain replied with the hugest shrug a brain can muster. So much for having scissors as your destiny, apparently.

“And hello to you, too,” Diamond Tiara purred by her side, blinking rapidly at the stallion. “You wanna go like usual?”

“If you don’t mind?” the stallion said. Then he looked at the mare, who just nodded. “Yeah, I think I would like that. Upstairs?”

“Like always.” Diamond Tiara closed the door behind them. “See you later, maybe.”

“Later!” the mare said, waving, as they both walked upstairs.

Mere seconds later, a small group of mares followed them, giggling like schoolfillies in front of a movie star.

Diamond Tiara gave a low whistle. “Well, this party is definitely a success now.”

“What the hell was that?” Babs said, closing the door. “Who were those ponies?”

“You’ve never met them?” DT looked at Babs. “The Cake Twins?”

“The Cake Twi—Those were the Cake Twins?” Babs’s eyes went wide. “Holy damn. They’re all grown up, aren’t they?”

“Yeah.”

Her eyes went less wide. “But still underage.”

DT shrugged. “Weeeell. They’re sixteen.”

“Oh. Boy, how conveniently legal.”

“I know, right? Gotta love the inexorable passage of time.” Diamond Tiara waved a hoof as they walked back towards the group of five stallions arguing flanks. “They’re not going to drink, anyway. They’re just here for the fun times.”

“Fun times?”

Diamond Tiara shot her a look. “Oh, come on. Why do you think they went upstairs?”

Silence.

Babs stared at Diamond Tiara. Diamond Tiara stared at Babs.

Three more mares went upstairs, giggling too. The sound of springs creaking could be heard from the second floor. They were following a steady rhythm.

“No.”

“Yes.”

“Really?”

“Well, he’s called Pound Cake, so yeah. It’s kind of his thing. Usually ponies just take turns—trust me, he’s got stamina to spare. Pumpkin Cake just hangs around, but she’s a cool kid.”

“Ugh, but…” Babs Seed shuddered. “I met them when they were wearing diapers, for Celestia’s sake. No way one can shag that after—”

“Hey, so did I,” DT said. “And yeah, trust me, you forget about it after seven seconds or so. The kid is good at his job. Good at it.”

The creaking springs went through a crescendo. The sounds of a mare being rather happy about such a development joined them.

“I can tell.”

“Let’s just hope Scootaloo doesn’t notice they’re here,” Diamond Tiara said. “Otherwise, we’re in for a treat. Make sure you don’t tell her.”

“Why?”

“Because Pound Cake’s a constant equivalent of a Sweetie Shuffle, only in male form, and Scootaloo has had a lot of alcohol today, so—”

“GAWK GAWK GAWK GAWK GAWK GAWK!”

“Oh, dammit—SOMEONE STOP HER BEFORE SHE RUBS HERSELF ALL OVER THE SOFA! SHE GETS TERRITORIAL WITH TEQUILA!”

Sweetie Belle left Diamond Tiara’s room, the one upstairs, and closed the door behind her. She stretched her back like a cat and let out a satisfied sigh before looking around. With a modicum of surprise, she noticed the corridor was full of mares and a couple stallions that hadn’t been there before. And among them was…

“Pumpkin Cake! I didn’t know you were here!”

Pumpkin Cake smiled like a foal who just saw her pet dinosaur eat her schoolteacher alive, and they ran to each other and hugged. “Sweetie Be—HGGGCCKRRK.”

“Oh my gosh!” Sweetie hugged her a little tighter. “You’re as cute as ever!”

“HGGGCCKRRK.”

Sweetie Belle blinked. “I’m hugging you too hard again, right.”

“HGGGCCKRRK.”

“I’m going to take that as a yes. Sorry!” She released the young mare, and Pumpkin Cake fell to the ground with a plof! “Got too excited to see you. Are you okay?”

“Ugh.” Pumpkin didn’t get up. “Oh, Celestia, I’m not.”

“Glad to hear that!” Sweetie Belle looked around. “Say, is your brother here too? Wait, no, don’t answer that. Scootaloo was gawking a while ago without me dancing, so of course he’s here.” She looked back at Pumpkin Cake. “Uh, you sure you’re okay?”

“I think I’m bleeding internally.”

“Anyway, so where’s your brother?”

“This is my bleeding internally face.”

Sweetie’s horn flashed, and Pumpkin Cake floated back to her hooves, a painful expression on her face. “Wait, don’t answer that either. Seven mares waiting for her turn in there, so he’s in that room.” A moment of silence, Sweetie gave a better look. “Wait. Six mares. Isn’t that pony Snips?”

Pumpkin shook her head, coughed, and got her senses back. “Ugh. Tomorrow’s gonna hurt.”

Sweetie Belle poked her on the side and pointed. “Pumpkin! Is that Snips waiting for a turn with Pound Cake?”

“What?” Pumpkin looked. “Oh, that Snips? Yeah, he asked a while ago, and Pound said he didn’t really mind.”

“I thought Snips was heterosexual?”

“Yeah.”

“And so was Pound?”

“Extremely so.”

A pause.

Sweetie Belle frowned. “Oh. Right. Boy, Ponyville’s a paradise, isn’t it.”

“Absolutely.”

“Ah!” Sweetie Belle clapped, ears perking up. “Which reminds me! You see the room I just came out?”

Pumpkin looked. “Yeah?”

“Do you know what was going on in there?”

A second or two of silence, while Pumpkin mused it. Then, “I’m assuming something mentally-scarring?”

“I was going for ‘something exhausting’, but you’re not that far off, actually.” Sweetie Belle looked around. “But anyway, can you make sure the ponies in here don’t make much noise later on? Dinky needs to sleep it off.”

“Sure. Also, ew.” Pumpkin Cake crossed her legs. “You don’t seem tired, though?”

Sweetie Belle smiled devilishly. “Stamina.”

“You are one of the worst sportponies I’ve seen in my life, Sweetie Belle.”

“So? Life with Rarity.” Sweetie Belle shrugged. “Amazing pony, but she thinks ‘little sister’ equals ‘forced labor’. With all that training, I’m awesome in bed.”

A pause.

“Also I probably could have phrased that one better.”

Pumpkin Cake blinked. “Hey, wait, that makes no sense. I’ve been working in a bakery unpaid all my life and I don’t have that kind of physical resistance.”

“You sure?” Sweetie Belle pointed at the group of mares waiting for her turn with Pound. “Because your brother apparently does, and you always kick his ass whenever you argue.”

“I—” Pumpkin Cake blinked. “Wait. That makes sense.” She looked at her own hooves. “Oh my gosh. I have sexual stamina.”

“Probably! You just haven’t tried it yet, have you?”

Pumpkin Cake’s ears twitched. “I’m not sure what to do with this information.”

“Funny. I know exactly what to do with mine.” She tched her tongue. “Which also reminds me…” She trotted to the stairs and popped her head on the first floor. “HEY, DIAMOND TIARA!”

“YES?”

“I JUST DRY-HUMPED YOUR PILLOW FOR TWENTY-THREE MINUTES!”

“OH, FOR CRYING OUT LOUD.”

“Really?” Pumpkin walked towards Sweetie Belle and frowned, squinting at her face. “You don’t sound that drunk.”

Trotting back towards her, Sweetie Belle gave Pumpkin a wink. “Who says I did it because I’m drunk?”

“Oh. Sweetie Belle, Pumpkin Cake.” An extremely heterosexual voice sounded from behind the two mares. When they turned around, a glasses-wearing cream-colored mare with a poofy red mane was there. “Hadn’t seen you yet,” she said.

“Twist!” Sweetie Belle said, hugging her. “Where were you? I’ve been looking for you for hours!”

“HGGGCCKRRK.”

“Oh, yes, right. Asphyxiation.“ Twist hit the floor with a plof when Sweetie Belle released her. “You ponies and your silly oxygen.”

“Hello, Twist!” Pumpkin Cake poked Twist on the head to make sure she was still alive. “Here to make a reservation for Pound?”

“I think I’m bleeding int—”

“Welcome to the club,” Pumpkin said. “Pound?”

“Not now, no.” Shaking her head to get the woozy away, Twist got up on all fours. “Ugh. Sweetie Belle, I’m glad you’re enthusiastic and all, but I think I broke a rib.”

“Sorry!” Sweetie Belle stuck her tongue out with a chuckle. “I’m a little giddy. I just scored with Dinky on a seventy-seven percent ratio!”

Pumpkin looked at Sweetie Belle. “Seventy-seven percent?”

“Yeah!”

“You said twenty-three minutes of pillow-humping. You spent exactly one hundred minutes shagging Dinky?”

Sweetie Belle nodded. “Like clockwork! I’m good with schedules and stuff, so I made sure to finish Dinky in time. Rarity likes ‘em tight, and I aim to please!”

Silence.

“Also I probably could have phrased that better.”

“Stay golden, Sweetie Belle,” Twist said, patting her shoulder. “Never change.” She looked at Pumpkin. “So, what about you? How are your parents doing?”

“Pretty well! But they hate you because you’re the competition,” Pumpkin said. “They say your sweets are a hack and that you’re trying to steal our customers like the traitor you are.”

“Charming.”

“They also say that this Friday they’re busy so you’ll have to come on Saturday.”

“Oh?” Sweetie Belle looked at Twist. “Still taking classes at Sugarcube Corner?”

Twist shrugged. “One has to learn somewhere.”

“Yeah! Learn to be a loser!” said a voice from behind, with the tone of a kid opening the first present on the Christmas her dad died.

“Oh, no,” Sweetie Belle whispered.

“Here we go again,” Pumpkin muttered.

“My turn!” Snips yelled with glee from afar.

“My, what a wit. Must be Silver Spoon herself.” Twist raised her voice maybe a little more than necessary as she turned around to face the pony who had talked—Silver Spoon, indeed, reeking of alcohol and carrying a cup of something that looked and smelled like gasoline. “Your marksmanship with the words never ceases to amaze me.”

“Because you’re a loser.”

Silence.

Twist sighed. “Damn it, girl. You’re really giving me your top game, aren’t you?”

Silver Spoon gave her a cocky smile. “Oh, you’d love it if I gave you my top game, all right. But I’m not going to waste it on you.” Then she looked at Sweetie Belle. “Speaking of which, Featherweight is looking for you, but I recommend you don’t go with him.”

“What? Why?”

“Because he’s started what he calls a ‘nonsexual ménage a trois’ with Liza Doolots and Cyan Skies,” Silver Spoon said. She pointed. “Right there, at the bottom of the stairs.”

“Oh?” Sweetie Belle’s ears perked up and she got up. “Really?”

“Yeah.”

Twist frowned. “Nonsexual ménage…? I’ve never heard of that.”

“Me neither.” Pumpkin Cake looked downstairs. “Sounds pretty tame, though, so I guess—uh.”

“What?” Twist looked too, and Sweetie Belle followed. “What is going—woah hey.”

“See?” Silver Spoon said, pointing. “That’s why I told you not to go.”

“Okay. Nonsexual,” Twist said, following the strange dance of appendages with her eyes. It was like witnessing a ballet, only more naked. “Fairly sure Featherweight doesn’t know what ‘nonsexual’ means.”

“Fairly sure if Featherweight knows what trois means either,” Pumpkin Cake muttered. “That’s more like quatre-vingts if you ask me.”

“Well, Featherweight is really handsome,” Silver Spoon said. “It only makes sense. Kind of tacky to do that where everypony can see you, though.”

Twist looked at Silver Spoon. There was a little bit of edge in her voice when she spoke. “Funny for you to say that.”

Silver Spoon frowned. “Excuse me?”

Twist didn’t reply immediately. Instead, she just glared at Silver Spoon, fire in her eyes, then nodded towards Sweetie Belle. “You didn’t seem to think that was tacky.”

“What are you even talking ab—oh, hell no!” Silver Spoon crossed her legs and glared back. “That was completely different, and you have no right to use it against me! the Sweetie Shuffle is a work of art!”

“Yeah, it is!” Sweetie Belle yelled, turning around with a great smile on her face. “What are we talking about?!”

“Nothing,” Silver Spoon said. “This loser is just trying to make me waste words.” She squinted. “Loser.”

“Yes. That reply would make more sense if you weren’t the one who started this conversation,” Twist said. “But okay, sure, whatever makes you happy.”

“I wasn’t starting a conversation, I was insulting you.” Silver Spoon raised her snout to the heavens. She was probably trying to look snobbish, but she just came off as very interested in the ceiling. “The expected reaction is for you to run away and cry yourself to sleep in the bathroom, not to reply.”

“Bathroom is occupied, though,” Pumpkin Cake said, getting between the two mares in an almost nonchalant way. “Some guy’s locked himself inside for, like, forever.”

“Oh, yeah. That’d be my fault,” Sweetie Belle smiled sheepishly. “Sorry!”

“Wait, what?” Twist looked around. “Bathroom? Singular? This place is huge! Are you telling me Diamond Tiara only has one of those?”

Silver Spoon shrugged. “She’s an only child. What’s the fun of being a daughter if you don’t make sure your dad can’t use the bathroom in the mornings?”

“Ugh.” Twist frowned. She had never really stopped frowning for a long time now, but somehow she managed to increase the frowniness of her face in a percentage relevant enough to be seen in plain sight. “Do you consciously and actively try to be as horrible as possible all the time, or it just comes naturally to you?”

The smile Silver Spoon gave her was the smile of a proud mother after her son scores in a hoofball match. “All natural.”

“Ugh.” Twist replied with the cold glare of a father whose child just pooped himself in a hoofball match. “Aren’t you charming sometimes, Silver Spoon.”

“Heheh.” Sweetie Belle said. She didn’t giggle—she literally said it out loud. Then she elbowed Silver Spoon. “The pillow probably agrees with you!”

“Hah! Good one!” Silver Spoon raised a hoof. “Up top!”

“Yeah!” Sweetie Belle said.

They hoof-bumped.

Pumpkin Cake and Twist stared.

A pause.

“Okay,” Twist eventually said. “I didn’t get that.”

“Me neither,” Pumpkin said.

“Hah! I did!” Silver Spoon raised a hoof. “Up top!”

“Yeah!” said Sweetie Belle.

They hoof-bumped.

Silence.

Sweetie Belle and Silver Spoon looked at Pumpkin and Twist with expectation, eyes sparkling.

Pumpkin Cake sighed. “You’re just looking for an excuse to do that a third time, aren’t you?”

“Hah! We—”

“Okay, no.” Twist shook her head. “I don’t know if you two are drunk or just flipping idiots, but I’m out of here.” She got up and walked away. “See you later, you two. And, Silver Spoon, do us a favor and jump off a cliff.”

“Yeah, get lost! You loser!” Silver Spoon said, shaking a hoof at Twist as she went downstairs. “We don’t want you here anyway!” The moment Twist disappeared from sight, she turned around, drank the entire cup she’d been carrying in one gulp, and crossed her legs. “Gaaaargh.”

Pumpkin waited a couple seconds to make sure Twist could hear them, then looked at Silver Spoon. “Okay, what the hell was that?”

“What was what.”

“You called her a loser, like, fifteen times,” Sweetie Belle said.

“Yeah, and what about the ‘top game’ thing? Was that smart? That didn’t sound smart to me.”

Silver Spoon snorted again. “Don’t blame me,” she muttered, sitting on the floor and resting her back against the wall. She didn’t meet her friends with her eyes while talking. “It’s just, it’s just that she’s such an idiot that I can’t even focus on a good way to insult her. Like, it messes me up. She’s just the worst, I wish she’d never been—”

“You literally cannot wait to tap that, can you.”

“OH SWEET BABY CELESTIA EVERY NIGHT I DREAM OF HER.”

“I don’t get why you two aren’t together already,” Pumpkin Cake said, frowning at Silver Spoon. “I mean, she clearly hates you exactly as much as you hate her. And I haven’t seen a more heterosexual mare in my life.”

“I KNOW.”

“Maybe Twist is playing hard to get?” Sweetie Belle asked.

“I DON’T KNOW.”

“Gosh.” Pumpkin looked up and down at Silver Spoon, who was leaning against the wall now. “You are so desperate.”

“I WANT TO KISS HER AND SMOOCH HER AND SILVER SPOON WITH HER.”

Pumpkin’s wrinkled her muzzle. “Ew.”

Sweetie Belle smacked her on the back of her head. “Pumpkin, she means she wants to cuddle with her.”

“No, no. Her reaction’s right.” Silver Spoon shook her head. “I would just say ‘cuddle’ if I wanted to hug her or whatever. I want to Silver Spoon her. You know, that thing I do with my tail? And the glasses?”

“Oh.”

Silence.

Sweetie Belle wrinkled her muzzle. “Ew.”

“Hey, Twist also wears glasses!” Pumpkin said, punching Silver Spoon on the elbow. “You can do a double Silver Spoon with her!”

“Heavens, no. A lady should save such things for marriage,” Silver Spoon said. “ALSO SHE WILL NEVER DO ANYTHING WITH ME I SHOULD JUST GIVE UP ALREADY OH LUNA WHY IS MY LIFE SO SAD.”

“Maybe you aren’t trying hard enough?” Pumpkin asked, punching Silver Spoon on the elbow again. No real reason to, she just liked punching elbows. “Or you’re sending mixed signals? Are you sure she knows you hate-hate her?”

“AND WHAT WOULD YOU KNOW? YOU’RE A KID!” Silver Spoon yelled, covering her eyes with her hooves. “I’M NOT SO PATHETIC THAT I NEED TO GET LOVE ADVICE FROM A KID!”

“Yes you are.”

Silence.

“Yes I am. Sorry. I’m really drunk.”

“You are quite inexperienced in romance, though, she’s right about that.” Sweetie Belle looked at Pumpkin. “How come, anyway? You’re too pretty to be still single.”

“Yeah.” Pumpkin pointed at the ponies waiting in front of Pound Cake’s door. Most of the crowd had been dealt with already. “But my brother is as territorial as Scootaloo and I’m not going to mingle with a pony who smells like him.”

“Aaaaw, poor thing!” Before Pumpkin could do anything about it, Sweetie Belle tackled her with a bone-crushing hug. “I’m sure you’ll find love one day!”

“HGGGCCKRRK.”

“Oh. Damn. This again. I swear one day I’ll learn—”

“WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!”

The entire corridor fell in silence as Snips came out of Pound’s room, completely dressed up in the sexiest black lingerie ever made, and ran towards the stairs, drunken glee on his face.

“LOOOOOOOK AAAAAAAAT MEEEEEEEE!”

Pumpkin managed to get away from Sweetie Belle’s embrace—she felt her ribs poking at her insides—and looked at the clock on the wall. “Huh. Four o’clock sharp. Impressive.”

“Snips always reaches his drunken peak like clockwork,” Sweetie Belle muttered, following the stallion as he kept tumbling around. “The sexy lingerie’s a new one, though.”

“Oooh.” Silver Spoon’s eyes opened wide. “So that’s what she was—”

And then Snips jumped down the stairs.

“I’M A PREEEETTY PRIIIIIINCEEEEEEE—ARGH!” Blam! “UGH!” Plomf! “OH CELESTIA MY BACK!” Crack! “GAGH!” Plaf! “AAAAAAAAGGGGGHHH!”

Then, silence.

Sweetie Belle, Pumpkin Cake, and Silver Spoon all stared at Snips’ unconscious shape on the first floor. His body was twisted in a weird way.

“Should we help him?” Pumpkin eventually asked.

“Nah. Diamond Tiara’s job,” Silver Spoon said.

“Hey, now that I think about it…” Sweetie Belle nudged Silver Spoon. “Snips has the same cutie mark as Babs, but nobody thinks his is about sex. That’s weird.”

“Seriously,” Pumpkin continued. “He’s not moving.”

“I said ‘Diamond Tiara’s job’.”

“I guess his scissors are just not that sexy?”

Pumpkin sighed. “Well, at least I hope the ambulance comes soon.”

“Oh, definitely,” Silver Spoon said. “It isn’t a party till the paramedics arrive.”

Author's Notes:

So. This is a love letter to my most favorite fanfic ever. And I never realized I was doing something inspired by it till I was over 4k words in this thing.

Also hahah this is already the most risqué comedy I've ever written and we're only starting.