"Another successful funeral!" I said, shoving through the front doors of the funeral home. Ragdoll was beside me, with Boner floating off to the side. A few mourning ponies stood outside, the unicorns floating white handkerchiefs to their faces while earth ponies and pegasi wore veils to hide their crying. They all turned to stare at us after I yelled out about our success. They murmured among themselves – probably about the wonderful pony who paid for the entire funeral: me.

"Your sewing really paid off, Ragdoll," I said. Pancake Pony had been quite a mess, and, honestly, without Ragdoll's help, he wouldn't have looked half as good as he ended up looking. Sure, there were some seams that were still obvious, but we had managed to give him an open casket funeral thanks to a little thread and some undertaking magic.

"Thanks," Ragdoll said. She trotted up next to me, then turned her head sideways and up. Her hair bobbed with the movement. "BB, do you want to go to the bar?"

That was probably the longest string of words I had heard out of her mouth. I gasped, then knelt down to her height. I touched my nose to hers, opened my mouth and drawled out, "Yes."

She blinked her giant, innocent eyes at me, then took a step back. I fell forward, hitting my jaw against the pier. I quickly picked myself up.

"What a perfect way to celebrate! I was just thinking the same thing!"

I grabbed Ragdoll in my magic until we were out of the small crowd of mourners, then allowed her to trot along beside me. The Bar on Blue was just a hop, skip and a jump away from the funeral home. We were already close to where Blue Pier and Orange Pier intersected. Where the two piers met, I stopped and looked at where the town began.

It seemed like only the day before that I had walked into the town from that path. I had been bruised, dehydrated and beat up by the Everfree Forest, but I had made it. The Blue Pier and its ghostly lanterns made me feel vaguely nauseous with nostalgia, but I was grinning too. Ragdoll stood patiently beside me.

"Why don't you order me spirits this time?" Boner asked, ruining the moment. I turned and looked up at him. I guess it did make sense, giving spirits to a ghost. But did he really deserve it? No. But I am kindly.

"Sure," I said, even though it was against my best interest. I really needed to save bits, but there was a call for celebration. I could spend a little money and easily make it back. I would have had enough if I hadn't been roped into paying for Pancake Pony's funeral (but most of that money came from Boner's stash).

I started walking again, and Ragdoll's hoofsteps soon joined mine. Boner floated lazily beside me. The bar was in sight as soon as we turned onto Blue Pier. The sign was shaped like a tankard and had three blue lanterns hanging below it. We reached the large door and I opened it up with my magic. Only the bartender was inside, and he was leaning against the bar listening to the radio.

"There's still a battle waging around Stalliongrad," the radio said. I walked up to the counter, Ragdoll and Boner at my sides. "The death count is in the tens of thousands."

"Man, am I glad that I am outta there," I said while positioning myself on top of a bar stool. The bartender rolled his eyes over at me, his head slowly following.

"What'll it be, BB?" He asked in his slow, drawling way. Then, his blue eyes settled on Ragdoll. "Hey Porcelain. What will you be having?"

"Scotch," Ragdoll said. She was too short to get up onto a stool, so she stood with her chin on the bar. I frowned and enveloped her in my magic, carefully lifting her to sit on the stool next to mine. The green glow remained around her until she positioned her hooves to sit correctly, then I let her go.

"Thanks," she said.

I turned back to the bartender. His orange mane was bobbing as he used his magic to grab a bottle of scotch off the top shelf. He poured a small amount into a glass with ice and sat it and the bottle next to Ragdoll. She grabbed the glass with her teeth and tilted her head back, drinking it all in one gulp. With some fascination, I watched her put the glass down and grab the neck of the bottle with her teeth, pouring until the glass was half full. Earth ponies were so inventive!

"I'll have a horse's neck," I said, then paused, mulling over what to get Boner. An idea struck me and I said, "I also want a shot of bottom shelf vodka. Just one shot."

Boner had settled down on the stool to my left. When he heard that I bought him cheap vodka, he sighed loudly. I waited for him to say something while the bartender was mixing my drink, but he, unfortunately, stayed silent. Ragdoll poured another glass of scotch; the bottle's top clinked against the glass. The bartender sat my drink in front of me, along with the vodka shot. I pushed the vodka down the table to be in front of Boner. He looked at it, stuck his tongue out and stuck it inside the shot glass.

"I can drink it!" He exclaimed, then went to furiously sipping the alcohol out of the glass. I grasped my drink with my magic and took a long drink. The bartender was looking at me. I know I'm gorgeous, and he seemed almost mad at how drop-dead fabulous I am. He cleared his throat.

"You need to pay for those," he said.

"Ohh," I drawled out. Then, I focused on my change purse and teleported it to the bar. The small leather bag landed with a plop in front of me. I had made it myself, out of some ponyhide from Stalliongrad. Sometimes, we had ponies that no one would claim. In those cases, nopony cared what happened to them, so I would take bits and pieces of their hide (from their backs, so nopony would know) and tan them in my spare time. The change purse I had was just one of the many things I made from my old pastime.

I poured out a few bits onto the table and pushed them over to him. "Keep the change," I said. It was a day of celebration. I could spend a little extra, spread the love around. I drank my drink again and finished it off after a few long gulps. Warmth spread throughout me from the sweet beverage, and I ordered another.

"Ragdoll, slow down!" I tell her, looking over as she poured herself another glass of the liquor. Boner lapped up his vodka like a dog, using his ghostly abilities to sip up everything down to the very bottom of the glass. The bartender floated another amber-colored drink in front of me.

The radio crackled from commercials back to the program it had been on.

"Twilight Sparkle," a deep, male voice asked, "did you help develop the megaspell used on the battlefield at Stalliongrad?"

"I have no comment," came the reply from a din of noise. It sounded like cameras were clicking pictures and a hundred ponies were shouting questions.

"There you heard it, folks," the deep voice said again. "Twilight Sparkle refuses to comment on the megaspell. We have in the station today Doctor Arctic Breeze, who literally wrote the book on the controversy surrounding the megaspell. What do you make of this, Doctor?"

"Well," Arctic Breeze's voice was nearly indistinguishable from the other stallion speaking, "I believe that Twilight Sparkle refuses to comment because she knows the truth behind what happened on that Stalliongrad battlefield. The Ministry of Arcane Sciences had a hoof in making this megaspell! How else would the Ministry of Peace come up with such powerful magic?"

I crunched on the ice at the bottom of my drink and ordered some whiskey. Ragdoll had downed about half of the bottle of scotch and was sitting back, looking over at me. She almost looked contemplative behind her blank face.

"Ragdoll, what did you really want to be?" I asked. The whiskey was placed in front of me, and I took a shot.

"I don't know," she said.

"You really didn't know? No idea? Nothing?"

"Nope."

"Wow. I always wanted to be a lion tamer."

She didn't reply. I poured another shot. Boner tapped me on the shoulder and motioned at the whiskey bottle.

"Sure, sure," I said, pouring some of the whiskey into his shot glass. He laughed a little as he slurped the whiskey out of his glass. How long had he been a ghost? It had to have been a little over two months. The fact we hadn't tried the spirit thing yet was amazing. I mean, it's such a great idea. I must have thought of it before and decided that it wasn't time for Boner to try it yet.

The radio droned on about conspiracy theories surrounding the megaspell and the public's opinion on them. Many ponies believed the megaspells were immoral since they dealt with necromancy, while others believed they were simply futile since those who had fallen would have rose again and fought, just like they did on the "Immortal Battle" of Stalliongrad. Arctic Breeze even went on to say that Fluttershy probably leaked information to the zebras about the megaspells.

With those bold of words coming out of his mouth, the Ministry of Morale would probably be waiting on him right after his broadcast. His words could be considered treason, and with the Ministry of Morale, there was no telling what they would do to him. Horror stories floated around about that.

Why didn't I get a Ministry? I am so much better than those Elements of Harmony. I was probably the Element of the Elements and no one had figured it out yet!

I frowned and poured another shot. It was good that I didn't have a Ministry, though; I would have had to leave for home, and that would have labelled me a traitor. If it weren't for my clever disguise, I would already be in the clutches of the Ministry of Morale.

"BB," Ragdoll said. I looked over at her, my eyes crossing behind my sunglasses, making the world purple-tinted.

"Yeah?" I said.

"Are you afraid to die?"

If that wasn't a morbid question on a happy day, I didn't know what was! I lean my head in farther, my ears perked, ready for her to laugh and say it was a joke. I ended up just relishing in how unbelievable it was that she asked. It wasn't bad that she did or anything, it was just… Strange.

"Not really," I say. "I think that there will be a way to be immortal in the future, like maybe being uploaded into robot bodies or drinking a potion that makes you an alicorn. I'm not going to die, so I'm not really worried about it."

Ragdoll's face really showed some emotion in response. Her brows drew in, and a hint of a frown caressed her lips.

"I'm not afraid either," she said after a pause. Her scotch glass was empty, the ice cubes from before long gone. She picked up the bottle again and poured more alcohol into the cup.

"Have you even touched this glass?" The bartender asked, pointing toward Boner's glass which was, of course, empty.

"No. Don't you believe in ghosts?"

He looked disappointed, his lips pursed and brows drawn down.

"Ghosts can drink spirits. My ghost friend, Boner, is here. We're all celebrating a funeral well done."

"Fine, don't tell me that you just drink from it when I'm not looking," he said. He turned up the radio with his magic and went to clearing off the empty glasses in front of us. He hesitated at Boner's glass, then eventually picked it up too. Boner sighed loudly and put his hooves on the table. He usually glowed dimly, but he seemed to lose all of his luster when his glass was taken from him. He tossed his mane and floated down through the chair to the floor.

"See you back at the shop, BB," Boner said, waving a hoof at me as he exited the bar.

Sometimes, I wonder what it would be like if he could manipulate things. He'd probably make me great gifts for being such a great pony! When he wasn't doing that, maybe he would be helping us do our job. As far as I knew, his talent was literally undertaking. How he got his butt mark in that was beyond me. Which, speaking of cutie marks!

"Ragdoll, how did you get your cutie mark?" I asked. She seemed taken a little off guard – she was in the middle of tilting her head back to drink her beverage. She sat it down before she could get the last drops of scotch and nodded her head.

"Playing dolls," she said. Then, "Where's yours?"

I glance down at my flank. It's as gray as it ever was.

"I don't have one! I don't really need one though, I mean, I don't need a butt tattoo to tell me that I'm special. I'm so good at everything that it couldn't all be included in one mark. It's okay, I forgive the cutie mark magic for not being able to come up with something that fits all of my wonderful talents."

There was silence for a time. I took another shot of whiskey and heard Ragdoll pouring herself another glass of scotch. My insides were nice and warm, and my thoughts raced all around my head. I did have a faint stomach ache, but it was nothing that a couple more shots of alcohol couldn't cure.

"Want scotch?" Ragdoll asked.

"I'd love some!" She pushed the glass over to me. "Thanks, Ragdoll!"

I drank the entire thing and floated the glass back to her. I assumed that she finished drinking all her alcohol, because she didn't immediately refill her glass. I went back to my whiskey and offered her some, but she wasn't interested. More for me!

A few more ponies entered the bar. They were all mourners from the funeral, and the bartender actually moved from behind his bar to go greet them and probably offer his condolences. My head started to spin, probably from too much alcohol. It was a good indicator to stop, so I did.

"Hey, Ragdoll, will ya help me walk 'ome?" I slurred. She looked over at me and nodded. She hopped down from her stool and I nearly fell out of mine, but managed to stay upright. I grabbed my change purse and hid it inside my hair until we made it back home.

Ragdoll took me on a long, winding route that was evidently the long way back to Purple Pier. We made it to Green Pier, and walked down an alleyway between buildings, across a bridge to a small island with a single shed on it.

"Ragdoll, let me tell you something," I said. "You… are the best apprentice a pony could ask for. Your sewing skills really helped to save that funeral! I also love your leg warmers and, damn, Missus Legwarmers is pretty cool too." We paused in the middle of the bridge and I leaned heavily against Ragdoll. "I really wanna'ted to let you know that I really appreciate you and all you do."

"Thank you," she said.

We turned around and headed away from the shed, away from the Green Pier, and back to the short way to home.