Psychedelica – Pastel Ponies
A pony story by Joseph Raszagal
As inspired by stuff best kept away from children
Chapter Nine – Dinner for Six

Several hours of labor-intensive work later and I found myself hyperventilating in a tired heap beneath the shade of one of my greatest foes in a long time... an apple tree. I was dimly aware of the presence of two others approaching, the sounds of grass crumpling under hooves a fairly dead giveaway, but I was just too exhausted to pay much attention at the moment.

“Well now, would ya look at that,” whistled Applejack, sounding somewhat impressed. “Dern near every golden delicious tree in the orchard? Really?”

An unfamiliar but distinctly masculine voice then stated in a bored drawl, “Ah swear, AJ, he's like a machine. Not the toughest Ah've seen, but tenacious. Eeyup. Definitely tenacious.”

“Ah guess Ah'd better stop him 'fore he tries to repent his way through the honeycrisps then,” chuckled the farm girl.

Raising a hoof without opening my eyes, I declared through deep breaths, “I think... we've both drastically... overestimated my abilities... Especially if you think... that that's going to happen...”

Still laughing, Applejack knelt down beside me and said, “'Bout time fer supper. Think you've earned it?”

“I... I don't know,” I panted, finally opening my tired peepers.

Maintaining the same stern expression that I'd seen before, the orange pony looked me in the eyes for several tense seconds before breaking into a wide smile.

“Ah'm just teasin' ya, fella,” she stated as she nudged me with a hoof. “Ah wouldn't starve such a hard worker. 'Sides, it's clear to me that Twilight was right 'bout ya. You wouldn't hurt a fly, would ya? If anythin' it just breaks mah heart all the more knowin' that you went an' tried to hurt yerself instead.”

“I was stupid then,” I replied with a blush, my breathing finally under control. “Well, alright, I'm still pretty stupid, but I'm less stupid now. That won't be happening again, I promise.”

“Ah'll hold ya to that, Hoss.”

Hoss? Ah, whatever, I've been called worse.

“You know, Pinkie Pie said the same thing to me.”

“'Course she did. She's Pinkie Pie, friend to everythin' whether they like it or not. Now, ya ready fer supper?”

“Absolutely, ma'am.”

Smirking, she turned and commanded, “Then get yer lazy rump up an' follow me.”

Faux-insult or not, I couldn't help but to grin.

“You got it, ma'am!” I replied dutifully.

As we made our way back to the large farm house, I acquainted myself with Big Macintosh, the other voice that I had heard commenting on my apple picking skills as though I weren't laying right-the-fuck there. The word “large” came immediately to mind, but “shy” followed quick on its heels. Despite being almost twice my size, a football player of a pony if there ever was one (is it odd that comparisons like these are becoming more normal to me with each passing day?), the big guy's personality was anything but. In the past, I thought I was a laid-back sort of dude, but Big Mac definitely had me beat. I wasn't about to try and press his buttons and anger him or anything, but something told me that even if I did try to piss him off, he'd just keep on chewing his sprig of wheat without a care in the world.

Not blissfully ignorant or oblivious to the things going on around him, just blissfully beyond giving a fuck.

Or in other words, my kind of guy.

We talked for a bit, most of the talking done by yours truly while Big Mac simply nodded every so often or replied with what appeared to be his patented one-word response of “Eeyup”, and before we knew it we were standing in front of the family's rustic homestead. After opening the front door and heading inside, I saw a little yellow pony with a red mane and tail bounce up and down on her hindlegs as she struggled to place plates on top of a table that was just a little too tall for her to properly reach. The pink bow tied just behind her ears bobbing to-and-fro was what cinched the whole scene for me. I put forth my best effort, but in the end I just couldn't help it.

“D'awww,” I said, taking in the adorable sight. “Now that's just not fair. I'm going to need some insulin before this week's over, aren't I?”

“What now?” asked the small pony as she turned to face me.

Shaking my head, I outstretched a hoof in greeting for the third time today and replied, “Nothing, just me rambling. I'm Jeremy, by the way. Jeremy Robin. Who might you be?”

“Ah'm Apple Bloom,” came her response as she shook my hoof. “Pleased to meet ya. Are ya'll the one Twilight said would be stayin' with us fer a week?”

“Yup, that'd be me.”

“Hope mah sis didn't work ya too hard out there. She has a habit of thinkin' everypony can work just as hard as she can.”

“Oh, it wasn't all that bad,” I sighed with a smirk. “Besides, I had it coming.”

“Been a bad pony?” she questioned, tilting her head wish a mischievous grin.

Rubbing the back of my neck with a hoof, I smiled and answered, “In a manner of speaking. I kind of have a loud mouth.”

“Good!” cheered Gilda as she alighted on the porch and strode in like she owned the damn place. “Don't let the Boss persuade you over to her side, dude, a loud mouth is the best kind of mouth!”

“Finally,” I said in mock exacerbation, throwing my hooves into the air, “somebody who gets it. Sarcasm isn't just a way to accent your words, it's an entirely different language that I'm proud to say I'm quite fluent in.”

Giving me a light punch in the shoulder, Gilda smirked, “Ditto, dude. Ditto.”

“Alright, alright, 'fore the two of you go an' fill my lil' sis's head full of nonsense, why don't ya'll go an' get yerselves washed up?” Applejack huffed, rolling her eyes. “Just like Granny Smith 'fore me, Ah only want clean hooves an' talons at this here dinner table.”

“Yeah, yeah, I'm going, I'm going,” laughed the griffon as she turned and headed upstairs. “Jeremy, right? Follow me, I'll show you where the bathroom is.”

“You have the helm, Ensign,” I retorted.

“Ensign?” she snorted. “More like Captain. Don't make me assign you to washing the poop deck, Chump.”

Shit. How was I supposed to know that she knew the proper order of naval officer ranks?

My joke thoroughly countered, I struck back by sticking my tongue out and giving her a raspberry, then said, “Don't make me go all mutiny on your feathery butt. Just make it so, yo.”

And so she did.

Trotting our way up a small stairwell, I was soon guided to a modest washroom that had the distinct feel of having seen far more use than it would have preferred (if the mud, twigs, and leaves clogging the tub's drain were any indication anyway). Not that this revelation surprised me much, mind you. I mean, c'mon, they're farmers. Dirt, sweat, and grime just come with the territory.

Taking a moment to scan my own hooves, I re-confirmed this fact.

Goddamn, was I ever filthy.

“So, Gilda,” I said as I scrubbed what had once been a pair of far less clumsy hands, “you're a friend of Rainbow Dash's, right? It didn't come to mind the moment I saw you, but I have heard Twilight mention you before.”

Drying her talons off on a nearby towel, she eyed me and replied, “Yeah, me and Dash go way back; all the way to our first days in flight school. Heh, I was even the second fastest in our class, right behind that filly's speedy, multi-colored flank, of course.”

“A bit jealous there, Skip?” I chuckled.

With a sigh, she flexed her wings and said, “I was for a while, but I got over it. Can't stay pissed at your best friend for something that she can't help. Anyway, what's up with asking? The Egghead tell ya about how much of a bitch I was when I first stomped into town?”

“Bitch?” I asked, having apparently missed that particular story.

“Megabitch,” Gilda laughed, closing her eyes. “I showed up, hung around with Dash the same way we did back in school, but I didn't realize it until it was too late that she'd gone and matured without me. Next thing I knew, I was making a huge ass out of myself by storming my way through town and yelling at absolutely everypony. Pinkie Pie ended up throwing a party to try and get me to take a chill-pill, maybe a whole bottle of 'em, but I pretty much did the exact opposite and flipped the buck out after getting pranked five too many times.”

“Hey, everybody flips out,” I offered with a shrug. “I'd even go as far as to say that I've revolutionized the art of it several times consecutively.”

“Yeah, maybe, but that still doesn't excuse the shit that I pulled. Once all the dust had settled, I flew out of town with my tail between my legs and threw the biggest bucking temper-tantrum Equestria has ever seen on a storm cloud somewhere. It was pretty pathetic.”

“Well... you're here right now, aren't you? Things seem to have gotten better.”

“True, they did. But it wasn't easy. It took a couple months for me to work up the nerve I needed to come back and apologize. Predictably, none of the girls really believed me at first, which while being the reaction I'd expected from the get-go, still managed to piss me off somehow. So I flew away again, screaming about how lame and uncool they all were, cut up a bunch of clouds out of frustration, got thanked by some random weatherponies for my help as a result, then perched on a tree once I was too tired to continue complaining and did some major soul-searching.”

“What'd you come up with?”

Looking seriously contemplative for the first time since I had met her, Gilda frowned and replied, “That I was lonely... Very lonely.”

Oh...

Damn, well, there's something I can definitely identify with. Not that I'd ever wish it upon someone just they could empathize with me, but still, the fact remains. I've been lonely. It sucks. There's a reason it was the main recurring theme in Donnie Darko, after all.

Opting not to open my big, fat mouth (lest it land me in hot water, as per its usual), I instead stood there patiently and waited for the griffon to find the right words she needed to continue.

“I thought I could be the same jerk I'd been while growing up,” she eventually stated, the emotion in her normally gruff voice betraying her conspicuously dry eyes. “I thought I could just say and do whatever the buck I wanted and somehow everypony would still love me. But I was wrong. That shit works in school, but that's because any set of social skills can work in school. Well, to an extent anyway. The thing is, I didn't get that at the time. I didn't understand that once you graduate... or drop out... the world changes and suddenly you have a ton of responsibilities that you have to manage, social interaction being a pretty high one on the totem pole.” Shaking her head, Gilda sighed and added, “I was a featherbrained bird, dude. About as dumb and mean as they came. I was... I was nothing but a bully.”

I cringed on that last word.

So was I.

Shut up, me. Not now. Not right now.

Patting her on the back, I said, “Hey, c'mon, don't beat yourself up about it. That's clearly not the case anymore, is it?”

“No, I suppose it isn't,” she conceded, smiling with a wistful expression. “And I've got those girls to thank for it. All they did when I first showed up, and heck, all they still do these days is talk about how magical friendship is. It's enough to make you gag, I swear. But still... no matter how cheesy it sounds, there's definitely some truth to it. Definitely. Every time they get too annoying for me to handle, I take a deep breath and remind myself that their friendship really has made me happier than I've ever been.”

Grinning, now seeing in Gilda the changes that I was beginning to see in myself, I took my good cheer and used it as a weapon to break the tension with a bit of comedy.

Stifling my laughter, I took in a deep breath and said as condescendingly as possible, “Awww, dat's so shweet!”

“Ugh, Celestia, don't I know it,” she groaned, sticking her tongue out in disgust. “Anyway, I... uh... I kind of got us sidetracked with all of that personal crap there, didn't I? Heh, sorry 'bout that. I've only known you for, what, half a day or something, and here I am pouring my heart out to you. Those girls really must have done a number on my jerkiness, I'm losing my edge here!”

Jabbing the griffon in the shoulder (part payback for her punch from earlier and part out of the way fellow jerks express their sympathy), I smirked, “Shut up, you're as edgy as a drawer full of knives. Besides, if it's any consolation, they're having the exact same effect on me.”

Blushing, another new expression from the bird as far as I was concerned, Gilda waved a claw and said, “Makes it hard to stay a jackass, doesn't it?”

“Very hard,” I laughed.

A brief pause perched between us as Gilda's blush intensified for whatever reason.

My steadily rising eyebrow must have been what snapped her out of it.

“Right, so it sounded like you were trying to go somewhere with what you were asking,” she remarked, getting back into her groove, “which is good because I'd really rather drop the emotional stuff before I gross myself out some more, you know?”

Thinking back a minute or so, I tapped a hoof to my chin and stated, “Yeah, my question. It's nothing, really. I was just wondering, what with all of Twilight's friends and all the stories I've heard about them, the only one I haven't seen in person is Rainbow Dash. She sounds pretty cool and I wouldn't mind meeting more of Twi's best~

Cutting me off with a wave of her arms, Gilda's earlier blush vanished completely as she deadpanned, “Sorry, man, that ain't my story to tell.”

Huh?

A tad confused, I inquired, “What? Why not? I was just wondering why I haven't seen h~

“Again,” the griffon repeated, “not my story to tell. It's personal and, anyway, I'm sure you'll hear about it from Dash once you meet her.”

Now more confused than ever, I asked, “Is... she alright? I'm not getting myself into muddy waters by asking this, am I? I just came out of a bout of depression myself, I don't want to hear that one of my benefactor's besties died or something.”

“Oh, no, nothing like that!” she answered hastily, calming back down a second or two after assuring me. “I already told you that you'd have to ask her yourself, remember? She's alright, still alive and just as cocky and loyal as she ever was. It's just... it's really complicated and we all came to a sort of agreement that we'd keep things hush-hush. I can't tell ya, man. You'll have to hear it from the source, alright?”

Seeing how serious she was on the matter, I decided to respect her pact with the others and, feeling guilty for pressuring her, gave in, “Okay, okay. As long as she's fine, everything's cool. I mean, I'm not gonna stop being curious about it, but I will stop asking. I can respect a good secret.”

“That's just it,” Gilda stated, shaking her head. “It's kind of a secret and, well, it's kind of not. But whatever, like I said, that's something that you'll just have to ask Dash about. Now, how about we head downstairs and get us some grub?”

“Deal,” I concurred, and together we made our way back down the stairwell and into the dinning room.

As we reached the ground floor, the bird did catch me by surprise as she turned and asked, “You said you were depressed back there, right? Anything you wanna say before we jump into some good home cooking?”

I froze, my hooves as heavy as lead.

She hadn't heard the whole story from Twilight like Applejack had?

Shaking my head, I replied, “We just decided to let the touchy subjects drop for the time being, yeah?”

Nodding, Gilda smiled and said, “Yup. Say no more, dude.”

“Wait!” I snapped, immediately wincing at the level of volume and harshness I'd used.

To her credit though, she did wait.

Heaving a big sigh, I licked my suddenly very dry lips and finished, “I'll... I'll tell you. Eventually. But, well, we're in a good mood right now and we're about to chow down on some equally good food, right?”

“Right-o,” she retorted.

“Okay,” I sighed, this time much more comfortably. “Just give it some time. Like you said up there about your bud, Dash, what I have to say isn't exactly a secret, but it's still a little hard for me to talk about if you don't already know. It's admitting something bad, something really bad, to both you and myself. I'm over it now, but what can I say, I still don't really like talking about it.”

Putting a claw on my shoulder, Gilda gave that same blush from before as she nodded and said, “No worries, I get it. I'm not the same bird I was before. A few years ago, I'd have put you on the spot; probably hurt you as a result. Pretty bad from the looks of it. But while I'm still a bitch these days, I'm not the biggest bitch in Equestria anymore, so take all the time you need.” Pausing for a moment, the griffon shook her head and added, “That's something the girls taught me, I guess.”

Returning the smile, I grinned my stupid grin and retorted, “Sounds like a good lesson.”

“It was,” she smirked just before taking the talon on my shoulder and forcefully pushing me forward. “Now shut up and get your flank in there! You're in my way and I'm bucking hungry!”

“Say no more!” I declared as I took the message and strode into the dining room.

Aaaaaaaaaaaand that's about when my jaw hit the floor.

“Alright, where the fuck did all of this food come from?”

Blinking, it took me a moment to realize that I had actually said that last bit out loud.

“First off, Ah hear that kinda language outta yer mouth again while we're at the table an' Ah'll have to explain to Twilight why there's a permanent hoofprint where one of yer eyes should be,” Applejack stated bluntly, giving me a stern glare that could have welded two pieces of steel together. “Second off, Apple Bloom prepared supper. While yer apologizin' to everypony present fer yer foul mouth, ya'll should take a moment to thank her.”

Gulping audibly, I rapidly bowed my head and mumbled, “Um. Yes, ma'am. Sorry for cursing, ma'am. And, uh, thanks for the dinner, Apple Bloom.”

…

The following silence almost killed me.

Looking over my shoulder, I could tell that Gilda was holding in the hardest laugh of her life.

She was right. She's still kind of a bitch.

“Good enough, I s'pose,” the orange pony relented. “Alright, everypony sit down so's we can say grace.”

Quirking an eyebrow out of confusion, I performed a quick mental jog and came up with the obvious answer.

I mean, for Christ's sake, she lifts the sun each morning. Of course it's to Celestia.

“Dear Princess Celestia,” Applejack began, my assumption correct, “we, yer humble subjects, would like to thank you fer the blessin' of yer sun's rays that fed an' helped grow tonight's feast. May you continue to watch over us durin' both the good times an' the bad. Amen.”

“Amen,” chorused the rest of the room, myself included.

Huh, that's an odd feeling.

I wouldn't go as far as to say that I was an atheist back in my world. More like an agnostic. I wasn't sure if there was a God or multiple gods or something else entirely, but I also wasn't so sure as to write it all out of life's big equation. After all, it's an understatement to say that the universe is a complex thing. For all an idiot like me knew, there really was a deity watching over us all from on high. Heck, it could have been a cat named Mittens. I'd have accepted that. Mittens, our Lord and Savio~

Dammit, I'm rambling again.

Anyway, in the end there just wasn't a creed that really appealed to me. But I guess here in Equestria there isn't much of a point to atheism. God's right there. You can even file some paperwork to go and have a nice little chat with her, maybe have a couple cups of tea and discuss what life was like ten centuries ago or what it's like lifting a giant ball of continuously exploding gas every single morning.

Neat.

Smiling at the thought of that, I dug into supper along with everybody else. Somewhere in the back of my head, whilst chewing on a healthy portion of lettuce and tomato salad, I catalogued the fact that despite her age, Apple Boom can apparently work wonders in the kitchen. And entirely without meat too. Along with that thought, I also found myself imagining the little pony trying to balance on a step-stool for added height as she cooked, which very nearly made me go “D'awww” again. However, being the incredibly tough guy that I am, I kept my cool this time and simply took another bite of my salad.

Yup, that's me. Jeremy Robin, cooler than arctic ice.

“You must be proud of your little sister, Applejack,” I commented as I reached for a biscuit. “I haven't had a dinner this great in a long, long time.”

“Aw, shucks, it ain't that good,” Apple Bloom replied with a bright blush.

Patting her sis on the back, the orange mare tipped her hat and said, “Sorry, Apple Bloom, but yer wrong an' he's right. This meal ain't good, it's great. Yer an earth pony an' yet ya worked magic again.”

“Eeyup,” added Big Mac, his compliment somehow unhindered by his mouthful of pie.

“Indeed, our Apple Bloom is an amazing cook,” spoke Zecora, giving the little filly a knowing wink, “and all without checking a single recipe book.”

Blushing bright enough to give her older brother's red coat a run for its money, the target of all this flattery squeaked, “C'mon, everypony, can't we just eat? Ah don't need all this praise!”

“Deal with it, Kiddo,” laughed Gilda, flicking her tail, “'cause you know we're just gonna keep doing it.”

The conversation went pretty much like that until dinner ended, with poor little Apple Bloom almost incandescent due to her bright, red embarrassment. But, much to her joy, all the flattery did eventually subside as the plates were removed from the table and taken into the kitchen to be washed. I offered my humble yet admittedly bumbling assistance, but the Boss lady just waved me back into the dining room saying that she, Zecora, and Bloom had it all covered. As I trotted back in, happily stuffed in a way I never thought possible for a vegetarian, I caught a glimpse of Big Mac fishing a bottle out of a nearby cabinet.

I gulped.

...Loud enough for him to hear.

Peeking over at me with his usual lethargic speed, the huge farmer saw my apprehension for what it was and, like a fucking godsend, remarked, “Don't worry yerself. Ah heard from mah sister. T'aint fer you. Ah can even take it outside if'n ya'd like.”

Now, I've sighed before. I've sighed hard. But I'll be damned if I didn't sigh harder than I ever had in my entire fucking life.

“No, no,” I mustered, relief washing over me. “I'm better now. I'm stronger. It's dusk now and it's cold out there. Drink it in here where it's warm.”

“Ya'll sure 'bout that?” he asked, eying me in a way that told me there was the distinct possibility that he could see directly into my soul.

Nodding, I answered, “Yeah, I'm sure. It's a dangerous temptation, but... it's a temptation that I've gotta face and say no to under my own power. I have to do it eventually and, shit, the chances of me successfully muscling that bottle away from you aren't slim-to-none, they're just none. So, yeah, go ahead. I'll just go see what Gilda's up to or someth~

“MAC, WHAT THE BUCK ARE YA'LL DOIN'?!”

Quick as lightning, Big Mac and I span around to see Applejack standing in the kitchen doorway with an absolutely vehement expression.

She looked like a lioness getting ready for the kill.

Gliding back into the room from the opposite direction, Gilda shouted, “Whoa, Boss, where's the fire?”

A single glare from the orange farmer shut my feathered friend's beak like a window and locked it tight.

Following suit, Zecora approached from behind her enraged... friend? Whatever, I'm pretty sure they're more than that, but that's a discussion for later, there were more pressingly murderous-looking matters to attend to at the moment. The zebra watched the scene unfold with a critical eye, her entire body tensing for something that I wasn't sure would happen and really, really didn't want to see happen. For a split second, I saw Apple Bloom peek from over Zecora's shoulders as well, but just as quickly as I'd seen her appear, she vanished, scurrying back to the dishes with a wisdom that I wish I currently had.

“Mac,” stated Applejack, her voice caught in that butter-zone where the quieter it is, the scarier it is, “put that bottle away. Now. No questions, no backtalk, just put it away. You know what Twilight said. You know what he's been through.”

Meeting the face of murder head-on, Big Macintosh stood his ground against his sister's icy glare and simply asked, “Don't he get a say in all this?”

…

…

…

Wow.

Just... wow.

Bigger balls than me, man. Seriously. Kudos, dude, but it's been nice knowing ya. I'd have offered him a cigarette and a blindfold if I had either of them on me at the time.

However, my initial shock wasn't given the chance to dwindle. Instead, Applejack followed her brother's example of earnest simplicity as she turned to face me and questioned, “Did he offer ya'll some?”

Immediately, I lost my cool. Hell, I lost all semblance of cool. Remember when I said I was cool earlier? Well forget that. I was all kinds of not-cool.

I flailed my forelegs wildly and exclaimed, “No! No! In fact, the first thing he said was that it wasn't for me! He even asked me if I wanted him to take it outside, I swear!”

“You swear?” she parroted, narrowing her eyes.

Oh dear, sweet, merciful God, what have I done?

Twilight told me the stories. AJ's the Element of Honesty. She's like a living lie detector.

But... but I wasn't lying.

“Look at how much I'm not lying!” screamed the voice inside my head.

Still, extreme stress has a way of making even the most honest man look like a liar.

Trembling like a leaf in the wind, I stood ramrod stiff as the farmer appraised me. What only took seconds felt like an infinite, everlasting, insert-hyperbole-here eternity.

“Alright,” she said at last, “Ah believe ya.”

In the microseconds that followed, I fell to the floor in a slippery puddle of my own perspiration.

“Boss...” came Gilda's actually concerned response to the whole heart-pumping scenario. “I think you might have killed him.”

Shaking her head, AJ let out an exacerbated sigh and asked, “Ya'll alright down there?”

A week.

An entire week.

An entire week of this.

Will someone please stop this emotional rollercoaster? I want to get off. Just... just... fucking Hell... Et tu, Twilight? Why have you thrown me to the wolves?

To be continued in Chapter Ten - Family Matters...