The Aftershow part 2: Carbohydrates, Capitalism, and Cute Couples


                                            Posted after the previous one on New Year's Day 2020. I have ideas for a possible chapter 3 with the villains discussing their next moves over coffee. God knows if I'll ever get around to it, but the anon who suggested it was definitely onto something.

                                            https://desuarchive.org/mlp/thread/34799309/#q34805898


                                            "Hello, little birdies."

                                            >"I ain't a bird, you blind old- oh! Don't mind if I do!"

                                            >The bald-headed, dead-eyed griffon swipes the full slice of bread from Nana Annie's hand

                                            >Artisanal fuckin' whole wheat with seeds on the outside

                                            >Say what you want about the old crone's eyesight, but she knows good bread when she sees it

                                            >Get that Wonder Bread styrofoam crap out of here

                                            >This is the good shit

                                            >Now, handing out bread to birds in the middle of a city has a very predictable consequence

                                            >Vancouver is no exception

                                            >Having had a recent influx of birdlike fantasy cartoon creatures, it's now even less of an exception

                                            >I guess it's kind of an exception because the type of 'bird' involved is exceptional, but that twists around to make the net exceptionality a bit lower

                                            >What I'm trying to say is that it's an exception-ception

                                            >Whatever, I'm getting off track

                                            >This is in Victory Square, Vancouver

                                            >An elderly woman is handing out free bread as a minor migration of dragons passes overhead, probably those ones occupying Queen Elizabeth Park a little ways south of here

                                            >Dozens of griffons are now clamoring for their piece of the pie, in the form of slices of bread

                                            >All too soon, Annie runs out of bread

                                            >[clamoring intensifies]

                                            "Don't you fret. I've got plenty for all of you."

                                            >She pulls another loaf of multigrain goodness out of her handbag

                                            >No, a loaf of bread does not fit in a handbag

                                            >Let alone two - make that three loaves

                                            >The griffons soon realize that the granny's generosity knows no bounds

                                            >Most of them assemble into an organized but rowdy queue

                                            >Some stand out from the crowd by hoarding prime slices of bread to sell to their fellow catbirbs


                                            >One of them stands out not for that reason, but because he's a toyetic shade of blue (and some yellow)

                                            >Bitches do, in fact, love him

                                            >A sudden downdraft announces the arrival of one of those respectable women

                                            >Her high-pitched, energetic voice also announces it more literally

                                            >"Hi Gallus!"

                                            >He swivels his head towards the familiar voice

                                            >"Oh hey, Silverstream! What's up?"

                                            >The peppy pink hippogriff rears up on her horsey legs, spreading her birdy front legs in confusion

                                            >"I was hoping you could tell ME what's up! DHX kicked us off the set? For real?!"

                                            >"Seems like it. The series *is* over."

                                            >"But we lived there!"

                                            >Gallus nods, his expression turning sour

                                            >"Yyyup. Now we've got to live here. Anywhere was an upgrade from Griffonstone, but you? Jeez. How are the hippogriffs and seaponies holding up?"

                                            >"Well... we're close to water, at least. I miss Mount Aris alrea-"

                                            >A certain Gruff Grandpa barges in on the conversation

                                            >"HEY! No cuttin' in line!"

                                            >Gallus's expression goes from 'sour' to 'Warheads Hard Candy'

                                            >"She's with me."

                                            >"No place-holdin', neither!"

                                            >He rolls his eyes at the enraged elder

                                            >"This is Silverstream."

                                            >He points a claw at the half-pony in question

                                            >"You know, cousin of the heir to the sea-pony throne?"

                                            >A spark of recognition lights up in Gruff's good eye

                                            >"Yes... yes, now I remember!"

                                            >Gramps bows his bald, vulture-like head, holding his fez in one talon

                                            >"Please pardon me, duchess. My eyesight ain't what it was."

                                            >He replaces his hat and pulls Gallus into a side-hug

                                            >"My boy here-"

                                            >"I'm not 'your boy.' Whose grandpa are you, anyway?"


                                            >"Shut up and let me wingman. My boy here is a prime specimen of a griffon. He's got an excellent wingspan for his age, and would you believe this coloration is natural?"

                                            >Silverstream balks at the blatant salesmanship.

                                            >"We... know each other already?"

                                            >"You do?"

                                            >Gallus shoves the geriatric griffon off of him

                                            >"She's the one who filled Princess Skystar's role at the friendship school."

                                            >"Oh! Of course. My apologies, organizing griffons is like herding cats half of the time. So many things on my mind that one of 'em is bound to give me the slip. Like I said then, at least it worked out better than Justice League's scheduling problems."

                                            >Grandpa Gruff ruffles the younger griffon's head feathers

                                            >"And also like I said then, don't pass up Silver when you're digging for gold!"

                                            >Gallus spares a disgusted, cringing glance towards Silverstream before making eye contact with his elder

                                            >"Rrrright. Hey, I think I hear Gilda calling some locals 'dweebs' again."

                                            >"What? How dare she! They are pure cinnamon buns, and potential clients (once we figure out what racket we're going to run here). I ougta tear her tail..."

                                            >And off he trails, chasing after something that may not be happening but is likely enough that he'd believe it may be

                                            >The young griffon runs a talon over his head to smooth out Gruff's ruffling, then meets Silverstream's disappointed gaze with one of his own

                                            >Together, they sigh in unison, with the voice of a generation united as rebels with a cause

                                            >...Okay, several causes (it's not a phase, mom! UGH. You wouldn't understand.)

                                            >"Boomers."

                                            >The griffon behind Gallus in line pokes him in the shoulder

                                            >If this were a visual medium, you might recognize them as the stingy shopkeeper from the season 5 episode 'The Lost Treasure of Griffonstone'

                                            >Alas, this is not

                                            >You'll have to look her up on Google or Derpibooru or something

                                            >"Are you taking your turn or what?"


                                            >Gallus looks to the slightly less senior griffon in confusion, then follows her pointing claw in the other direction

                                            >The line in front of him has dissipated, leaving a clear path to Nana Annie

                                            >All that remains of it is a chipper gray griffoness strutting by with carbohydrates in claw, chattering to herself and chomping on her prize

                                            >"Awwww yiss! Mother. Freakin'. Bread slices!"

                                            >The two young half-birds trot up to the gracious granny

                                            "Ooh, aren't you two the cutest! So colorful."

                                            >Gallus puts on his best smile

                                            >"Would you believe it's natur-OW."

                                            >Silverstream's elbow puts a quick end to the boast by way of Gallus' ribcage

                                            >She butts in even further by taking control of the conversation while he recovers

                                            >"Hi! I'm Silverstream, and this is Gallus. We are *so* grateful for your generosity."

                                            "Think nothing of it. Just the right thing to do, eh?"

                                            >She starts handing out slices to the two students

                                            "You two aren't main characters, are ya?"

                                            >Silverstream perks up further (somehow) at the question

                                            >"Yes! Did you watch the show?"

                                            >Granny Annie shrugs

                                            "Up 'til season 4. Couldn't fit my headcanon around Twilight getting wings. You stuck out too much to be background characters."

                                            >Gallus puts up a talon-finger to ask an important question

                                            >"Does that mean we get extra?"

                                            >He nimbly dodges Silverstream's second strike

                                            >Granonymous continues on as if a well-deserved shot to the ribs wasn't just avoided

                                            >"Meh. Y'look like good DeviantArt OCs and seem interesting enough. I'll give you one extra each."

                                            >"If I ask nicely, would you make it one and a hal-OW! Silverstream!"

                                            >The hippogriff in question simply clears her throat

                                            >"What he meant to say was thank you."


                                            "Think nothing of it, sweetie! I've got bread for days!"

                                            >With several bread slices each in talon-hand thingies they clear the front of the line and start walking off to wherever they may go

                                            >Gallus turns to his girlfriend (according to shippers, at least) and admonishes her most recent assault

                                            >"I would've given you my half, you know."

                                            >"Oh? Well... I appreciate the thought, but, uh, I'm thinking of trying keto."

                                            >The griffon scoffs

                                            >"You've lived underwater for years, and *I'm* the one on the see-food diet?"

                                            >The part-time seapony giggles at that observation

                                            >Gallus follows up before she can stop snickering

                                            >"So, did you ever meet Gabby on the set?"

                                            >"I don't think so. Who's that?"

                                            >Gallus swings an elbow up to point in the direction of a particularly enthusiastic griffoness

                                            >"She was in line just ahead of me. Had a couple of episodes with her and the CMC or Spike. C'mon, I bet she'd love to meet you!"

                                            >The pair of semi-avian adolescents strut off towards the she-griffon in question

                                            >Meanwhile, Grandpa Gruff has returned to regulate the bread line, having chased down Gilda's tsundere self and admonished her for something she probably did at some point (maybe)

                                            >Things seem to be in order again, so he starts chatting up the chief distributor of wheat-based deliciousness

                                            >"Kids. No respect for anything."

                                            >Leading with a line laced with that much venom gaurantees a response from the granny

                                            "I'm sure they have their reasons. Not all of them valid, mind."

                                            >"Not enought time in the world for me to get into all of their 'how' and 'why.' 'S the sort of canyon I could dig into until I'm dead."

                                            "Can't go for ones that're too deep at our age, eh?"

                                            >A sage and slightly depressed nod comes from Grandpa Gruff in response

                                            >"Yep. Might as well be bottomless. Speaking of, where the heck are you getting all that from?"

                                            "My purse, of course!"

                                            >Gruff is ever so slightly gobsmacked by the obvious answer


                                            >"I mean how do you have so much bread?"

                                            "Depends what kind you mean. There's a nice little bakery on the corner there called PureBread, though if you're wondering how I afford it..."

                                            >This wasn't the thrust of Grampa Gruff's question, but he pays rapt attention nonetheless

                                            >What could be this generous geriatric's secret to success?

                                            >She leans in close, whispering to the clearly captivated griffon

                                            "...Nobody gives a hoot if you decide to be a NEET once your hair's gone gray."

                                            >It takes a moment for the >implications to register in Gruff's mind

                                            >Not that he's getting slow, mind you

                                            >No, he's sharp as a tack, or something!

                                            >"You're a pensioner?"

                                            >She nods

                                            "I'm a proud, syrup drinkin' Canuck, and my government takes care of me."

                                            >"Do I get a pension?"

                                            "How many times have you bought coffee at a Tim Horton's?"

                                            >The grizzled old griffon does a mental tally

                                            >"...Can't say I ever have."

                                            "Sorry to say, but I don't think you're qualified."

                                            >Grampa's beak frowns, being somehow flexible enough to have an emotive mouth

                                            >"But *I* want money for nothing!"

                                            >And chicks for free, no doubt

                                            >Every griffon present, Gallus included (and also Silverstream, because she doesn't want to feel left out), turns away from what they're doing just long enough to join the chorus of griffons singing a rebuke in the key of 'deadpan'

                                            >"Join the club."

                                            >Grandpa Gruff sputters some more before he can shout his indignant reply

                                            >"You say that like I'm not the one running the darn club!"