|Deviant Login||Shop||Join deviantART for FREE||Take the Tour|
MLPFiM: 'Hush Now' Ch. 5 -PinkieDash-
Chapter Five: Avarice
Once upon a time, there was a young earth pony couple. They were a simple and hard-working pair, not wanting for much beside the modest roof over their heads and enough food to feed them both. After a few years of trying to expand their family, the couple was blessed with a beautiful unicorn filly. She had a pale silver mane that glittered in the light and a soft and a periwinkle coat that felt like down beneath their hooves.
Unfortunately, their precious daughter was deformed. Her horn was curved under like hook, giving her a malevolent appearance. Unsure of how to handle the situation, the bewildered parents traveled to Canterlot with their filly in tow, in search of somepony who could give them guidance on how to handle their peculiar situation.
Every doctor that met with the frazzled parents was flummoxed by the abnormal deformity, unsure of what tactic to employ to remedy the infant's issues. The physicians hypothesized that if they removed
Behind the Cheerful PonyIn a town where ponies live in harmony
There lives a pony whose name is Pinkie
Her mane's so pink and smells of cotton candy
She's every pony's friend who loves to party
She'll cheer you up every time you frown
And will turn that upside-down
She loves to make you giggle and smile
And will be your friend even when you're from a mile
But behind those sweet smiles and laughter
Dwells a different Pinkie who loves to slaughter
When she's very gloomy and upset, her mane goes straight
Her coat becomes pale and she'll be full of hate
If ever she'll bake a weird cupcake
Don't go and take
Or else your life will be at stake
And you'll be the cupcake to be baked
The Coffee GodThe Coffee God behind the counter shuffles foot to foot, a dance of steam and espresso. Black painted fingernails, inch gauged ears and a gray striped sweatshirt, hood crooked on his back. There's a cigarette tucked behind one ear; it bobs and twitches with each step.
“Non-fat caramel latte,” he calls, just as he always does, part of a spell, part of a mantra, toneless (just a tuck at the end). I reach. He looks up.
The espresso maker hisses.
There's something like a grin, something like a spark, something like a shared secret linked eye to eye. When he passes over the drink (rough cardboard sleeve hot to the touch), he lingers. Our fingers brush, a shiver, a jolt, a ten-watt shock.
The Coffee God tilts his chin, shouts, “Hey, mind if I take my break now?”
and ducks around the counter without waiting for a reply.
He slips his cigarette between his lips without taking his eyes from mine. I follow him out the door.
Keep in Touch!