V for Violet's—probably the only flower shop within an hour's drive. Until Spike dragged me here, I had no idea such a place existed. I remember being dragged to a professional florist's by my mother as a child. She was going through another phase back then, and since I was only in second grade, I had become an unwilling volunteer to her flower shopping. Two things came to mind thinking back to that time: the sheer size of the store and how boring my visits were. V for Violet's was nothing like that. It looked more like a cornershop, if one could call a lone building ten minutes from the nearest road. On the door, under the Open sign, was a notice that the shop had a strict No Car Policy, as well as a Class C Flower certificate.

"We're crashing the party, aren't we?" I turned to Spike.

"Nah, dude, nah." He shook his hands. "I just thought—"

"Spike, we're here buying flowers half an hour before a birthday." It wasn't that I couldn't use the drink. I just had a thing against party crashing. Between Spike and my gamer friends it wasn't like there was a shortage of invitations, so I had never adopted the practice. Spike, though, was the sort of person who would go in the direction of music, knock on the door, and ask to join in. Worse, he could get away with it too.

"Wow, seriously, dude?" He gave me his trademark what-the-heck-do-you-even-culture look.

"Am I missing something?" I looked at the shop. Flowers, flowers, and more flowers. If there was any deeper meaning to all this, I wasn't seeing it.

The dragon shook his head, then went inside. I followed close behind. The inside of the shop was pretty much what I expected: shelves and shelves of flowers, occasionally broken up by miniature pots and baskets. A middle aged man stood at the counter. Upon seeing us he quickly smiled and straightened up.

"Good evening to you." He seemed remarkably welcoming having in mind that a dragon had just walked in. "Welcome to Violet's. Is there anything I could help you with?"

"Yeah, we want a dozen roses," Spike said.

"Good choice." The man stepped from behind the counter. "Would that be red, white, or yellow?"

"Nah, the other roses," Spike corrected.

"Oh, right." The man let out an embarrassed laugh. "Of course. My mistake. When I saw you, I thought..."

"It's fine," Spike laughed as well, far less tense than the shopkeeper. "It's for a birthday party. I called an hour ago?"

"Oh, right." The man slapped himself on the forehead. "Spike, right? Sorry for the mix up. I was expecting someone else entirely."

"I get that a lot. No worries."

"So, you ordered a dozen of Violet's Special?" The man grabbed his tablet from the counter and started swiping through what I could tell to be a flower catalogue. "Would that be naturelle or dethorned?"

"Do you do destemmed?" Spike moved to look at the tablet screen. "I'd really like them boxed."

"That might take a while. If you don't mind waiting for a few minutes?" The man scratched his ear. "There's also a five dollar fee."

"No probs," Spike said, not a care in the world. "Just use a blue box if you have one."

"I'll see what we have out back." The man laughed then gave Spike a pat on the back. I could feel my inner self rage. There was no explanation how Spike managed to be treated the way he did. People either loved him or hated him, more often loved him. As for equines—they all adored him.

"Spike," I whispered once the shopkeeper left the general area of the store. "What the heck are we buying?"

"Didn't you read the sign?" He arched a brow. "The shop has a C certificate."

"What the heck is a C certificate?" I hissed. In magic theory that stood for having a teleport license. I strongly doubted that was the case here. "What did you get me involved in?"

"C as in Consumables?" Spike crossed his arms. "As in food? You know, the thing you do once in awhile?"

"Get out of here!" I shoved him. The CDC, as well as the Equestrian equivalent, had imposed a mutual quarantine on the majority of organic foods. In theory no food went between worlds without two series of vigorous tests to ensure that neither side would end up with a new stepson or killed weed or deadly virus. "No way this place is importing flowers from Equestria."

"Well, duh." Spike rolled his eyes. "They're just a franchise. The flowers are Earth grown following Equestrian standards and practices. None of the chemical crap you use." I stared at him, speechless. "The way things are going, I think they'll loosen regulations on hay products. Then you wouldn't have to pay thirty bucks for a packet of chocolate hay," he snickered.

My mind was blown. From what I remembered from Facebook, Equestria was in the process of negotiating with the FDA to recognize flowers as a food product. Until that happened, flower producers could pump the plants with any chemical concoction they wished to make their products grow faster and last longer. Only a pony could get the idea to franchise flower growing for food. I could already see a chain of shops rivaling Starbucks and McDonald's a few years down the line… providing ponies composed a more sizable part of the population. It was difficult not to be impressed.

"So," I took a deep breath. "We're here half an hour before the party to buy a box of chocolates?" Now it was my turn to give him the look. "We're totally crashing the party, aren't we?"

"Allen, dude, learn to chill, okay?" He placed his hand on my shoulder. "Nopony will throw you out. You'll have a great time, you'll see!"

I didn't react. The only reason I still wanted to go was because the last thing I wanted was to get drunk in my dorm alone playing online shooters. That would be beyond depressing. I suppose it was still possible for me to check on Jen and see if we can't patch things up. She hadn't replied to any of my texts so far' though.

"I'm telling you, it'll be so worth it!" Spike kept insisting. "Frostfoot will like you. Besides, there will be music, dancing, booze," he started enumerating.

"Spike, I haven't bailed on you. I'm just pissed you didn't tell me we would be crashing." I was also upset about a few other things. "I just think that going with a box of flowers is a bit cheap."

Thankfully, the shopkeeper returned before we could start another argument. The box he had chosen was more white than blue, though personally, I thought that was the least of our concerns. I had to admit the arrangement was superb. Four rows of three violet rose blossoms each filled the space, each carefully held in place by a paper tray. If nothing else we'd at least get A for class.

"Here you go." Spike handed the man his credit card as I kept on admiring the assortment. "Could we also have a card?"

"Sure thing," the shopkeeper pressed the card against the cash terminal, then gave it to Spike to input his PIN number. "We don't have equine cards, though. Just the standard ones."

"They'll be great." The design put the card in his kilt pouch. "Got many customers?"

"Things can always be better, but I'm not complaining. I already have a few regulars," he took out a small blank card from a drawer at the counter and gave it to Spike. "Most of them pegasuses." The word made me cringe. I'd heard more than enough politicians use it on media outlets to want it banned. Sadly the older generation had grown to love it. "There's one unicorn. Sweet girl by the name of Poppy. She comes to stock up every Tuesday morning like clockwork. A basket of lilies and begonias."

The name sounded familiar. If I wasn't mistaken she was a linguistics major, a year ahead of Jen. She was the quiet bookish type that kept to herself and avoided parties. The only times I'd seen her was when visiting Jen.

"Well I'll be sure to drop the name of this place at the party." Spike took the rosebox. "Have a great evening."

"Hope to see you again," the man said as we were going out. "Have fun at the party."

I checked the time—nearly twenty to one. With luck we'd be at the party round half past. Not bad, considering we were crashing.

"That guy was nice," Spike said, as we started our long walk to the car.

"Spike, with the amount you spent on flowers he better be nice," the cynical part of me yelled out. "How much did all this cost?"

"One hundred twenty-nine," he said without batting an eye.

"Holy heck, dude!" I nearly choked. I could buy a decent laptop for that. Well, semi-decent. "You're crazy, you know that?"

"Well, if we're gonna crash a party, we might as well do it in style, eh?" He laughed. Point one for Spike. There's no way such a gift could be considered cheap.

"So, this Frostfoot, she'll be cool that I'm there, right?" For some reason I felt nervous. Possibly because despite have a dragon roommate I'd never been particularly close to equines.

"You'll be fine," Spike insisted. "Besides, I'll told you There's someone I want to introduce you to."

"Sure thing, bro." I checked my phone again. Still no messages from Jen. "Sure thing."