BiE 67: Party Till You Drop.


                                            =BiE 67=

                                            -Music: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pIOOwhmkoLo-

                                            >Las Pegasus.

                                            >The night before the wedding.

                                            >That left the second most important thing besides getting married left to do.

                                            >It was your job to give Anon one last big hurrah.

                                            >You turn to the rest of the collected stallions.

                                            >Big Mac had accepted your invitation with the same simplicity he was famous for, while Thunderlane had been a bit hesitant to leave his pregnant mare.

                                            >You other two companions are a different matter...

                                            >Broblood had insisted on coming along, if not for his intimate knowledge of the city itself then for his status, a status that he assured you would get you into anywhere you needed.

                                            >You have absolutely no idea why Mr. Hooves accepted your invitation.

                                            We're totally gonna get eaten...

                                            >Shut up. Time to work.

                                            >"Okay, boys. We are here on a mission. A mission to give Anon here the time of his life before we all have to go to a wedding with a hangover, are you with me?"

                                            >"Eeyup."

                                            >"You got it!"

                                            >"Of course."

                                            >"Here here!"

                                            >"I don't think I like this..."

                                            >You turn to the dissenter.

                                            >"Come on, Anon. It's your last day as a free man. What could go wrong?"

                                            >"Well..." Mr. Hooves starts.

                                            >You absentmindedly jam a finger at him.

                                            >"You are not allowed to weigh in on the matter, you walking broken mirror."


                                            -Music: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oU5g5jhJQs8-

                                            >Broblood was able to charm the lot of you into the biggest casino resort in the city.

                                            >"My friends and I are trying to enjoy one last night before one of us gets married, can you accommodate us? I assure you, I can make it worth your while." He had said.

                                            >The manager backpedaling once he saw that you were indeed with royalty was brilliant.

                                            >The Whinny's gambling floor seemed to stretch on for miles.

                                            >Rows upon rows of slot machines and roulette wheels were set up, with hundreds of ponies milling about between them.

                                            >None of those were for you, however, not when you were with royalty.

                                            >A casino employee ushered you up a flight of stairs behind a velvet rope.

                                            >What you assume was the VIP lounge was a swanky place.

                                            >Private slots and card tables were sequestered in the back of the room, a stage with a mare dancing on it was in the corner, waitresses trotted around with trays of drinks. "Welcome to our VIP room, sirs." Your guide said.

                                            >"I'm starting to feel uncomfortable." Anon said.

                                            >"Oh, stop being a so negative."

                                            >You turn to your little group.

                                            >"Alright. Blueblood, is there anything in particular we need to know before we begin?"

                                            >"Never accept any free drinks and touching costs extra." he says with a deadpan face.

                                            >"Alright then, gents..."

                                            >You reach out and grab a pair of drinks from a waitress.

                                            >"Enjoy."

                                            >You throw your head back and dribble the drinks into your mouth to the shock of everyp0ny else.


                                            >A few hours had passed and most of your were pleasantly drunk.

                                            >And you did mean "Most of you.". Rarity must have rubbed off on Blueblood, because he bought drinks for practically everyp0ny at in the VIP lounge.

                                            >You had several different kinds of drinks in you. A pair of Red Stars from Stalliongrad, a Canterlot Twister, and some shots of a drink that Mr. Hooves had ignited with some pen of his.

                                            >As it stood, you were lounging with Thunderlane and conversing with a nice mare on stage.

                                            >"And so that's when Thunder here got together with Flutters, all because of a little Feather Flu."

                                            >The dancer writhes and twists around on the floor as she goes about her routine. "Aww...that's cute. It's almost like you two were meant to be together."

                                            >You took a swig of your drink as Thunderlane stammered out a response. "Yeah...Fluttershy is a great mare." He leans his head back. "I still can't believe I'm gonna be a dad soon...time was I'd probably have come to this place myself."

                                            >The dancer performs a particular feat of spinal trickery and bends over backwards, her eyes meeting the two of you. "Well, I think a good parent is one who can admit when they were wrong. At least you know you shouldn't come here after he or she is born."


                                            >You elbow Thunderlane in the rib.

                                            >"Yeah man, you're gonna make a great dad to little Thundershy of Flutterlane or whatever other combination you can come up with."

                                            >Thunderlane blushes a bit. "You think so?"

                                            >"Better than some of the dads I used to know. Go off to war and come back to live out of a bottle, or let their kids run around and screw like bunnies. Be better than that, and you'll be golden."

                                            >You dig a bit out of your pocket and flash it to the dancer. With a flick of your thumb, it flips through the air.

                                            >The dancer catches it in her mouth and loops her tongue around it, producing it for you both.

                                            >Damn, she was good at that.

                                            >Thunderlane chuckles beside you. "Thanks, dude. I'll think about your...advice."


                                            -Anon PoV-

                                            >You sat silently at the slot machines, watching the little symbols spin round and around until you stopped them.

                                            >Three hay bales again? Fuck your luck.

                                            >You looked around that room to see where your friends were.

                                            >Mous and Thunderlane were off laughing with the stripper. Big Mac was getting a show of his own with a pair of the dancers from earlier in the night. Blueblood, to his credit, was keeping his distance from the dancers, eventually winding up at the poker table. He seemed to care about Rarity quite a bit if he was turning down vices that had claimed one so clean cut as Big Macintosh.

                                            >Either that, or Big Mac was less simple as he put on.

                                            >Your last companion sat as quietly as you next to you, simply staring ahead and playing the slots. "Oh, bollocks." he said as he lost again.

                                            >Mous always seemed suspicious of this guy, you had your own suspicions yourself.

                                            >"So...Mister Hooves." You say.

                                            >He turns his head to you. "Hmm?"

                                            >You tilt your head towards Mous. "My counterpart has some rather..."far out" ideas about you."

                                            >He chuckles. "I've heard some of those ideas myself."

                                            >"But those ideas aren't true, are they?"

                                            >He shakes his head. "Completely unfounded."

                                            >The two of you sit in silence for a moment. "But...if they were true..."

                                            >"Do you think I could bug the space alien for advice?"

                                            >He freezes with his hand on the level and turns to you. "What's on your mind?"


                                            >You spin in your stool a bit. "I've had...an interesting week. I found out that I won't age so long as I'm here, made peace with that, and then went about planning a wedding. But now..."

                                            >"Now the weight of tomorrow is coming down on you."

                                            >You stops spinning, your eyes glued to the floor. "It's just...I'm supposed to promise to love her forever. That's really easy when the odds say you'll live your lives together, but once that's gone..."

                                            >"Then you can imagine all that time without her."

                                            >You stay silent and simply nod.

                                            >Hooves pulls the lever. "Well, if I -were- some sort of incredibly old alien, this would be the time where I tell you to not think like that."

                                            >You elevate your gaze to him as he presses a button to stop one of the slots. "When you have that much time, people you care about are going to leave you, it's a fact of life."

                                            >He presses another button. "What's important is to enjoy the time you have with them and to try to make it last as long as you can."

                                            >He presses the final button and turns to you, his eyes look calm and welcoming. "When those people do eventually leave you, it's your choice at the time whether to find another companion. The life of an immortal would be terribly lonely otherwise..."


                                            >The slots stop moving to reveal...

                                            >"Nothing? Again!? It's mathmatically impossible to lose this much!" He shouts.

                                            >"I think these machines might be rigged, man." You laugh out.

                                            >"Is that so?" Hooves looks from left to right before he pulls a small silver cylinder out of a pocket that doesn't exist.

                                            >He points the cylinder at the slot machine and causes a light buzzing.

                                            >Suddenly, a flood of coins pours out of the machine and into the tray.

                                            >You give Hooves a look. "What? They're cheating too."

                                            >You throw up your hands and walk away. "I'm not gonna be here when you get caught."

                                            >You walk to the main room to see quite a sight.

                                            >Mous was on the floor clutching onto some stallions leg and shouting. "WHY WON'T YOU LET ME BE YOU!?"

                                            >You walk up to a slightly tipsy Thunderlane. "What happened?"

                                            >"Dude had a few and then went nuts when he heard this other dudes name..." he said.

                                            >"Well, what's his name?" You ask.

                                            >"Some big city sounding name, I heard him check in as 'Bruce Mane' or somethin'."

                                            >You look at the stallion. Tall, black mane, blue eyes, sky blue coat.

                                            >Okay...this was starting to make sense now.


                                            >You kneel down and pry your bro's fingers off his hoof. "Sorry about this, Mister Mane."

                                            >Mane seems bemused. "No problem at all, son." He says with a grin.

                                            >"Hey. Hey, Mous."

                                            >"*hic!* Why won't e' let me be 'im, Anon?" Mous mumbles out.

                                            >Shit. Someone went hard.

                                            >The night is almost complete, just gotta get him off this guy.

                                            >You start to peel his fingers off. "Come on, I think I heard Clark Canter when we came in."

                                            >Mous's head snaps up and he heads to the door, Thunderlane and Blueblood following, Blueblood apologizing as he followed.

                                            >You call back to your last two friends. "Mac! Hooves! Come on! We're going!"

                                            >Mac says goodbye to his new friends, but not before they slip him some small pieces of paper.

                                            >Mac, you dog...

                                            >Hooves trots down the stairs, his "winnings" in his mouth.

                                            >You turn to the doorman. "Thank you for a wonderful time."

                                            >"I'M OPEN TO WEARING THE SCALEPRINT UNDERPANTS!" Mous shouts up the stairs.

                                            >Okay, now the night is complete.