>About an hour into your nap, you feel someone nudging your shoulder.
>You open your eyes and see Coca Breeze standing over you, blinking her oversized eyes with her oversized smile
>You rub your eyes with your hooves and groan as you roll over. "You really wanna get drunk on your first night here?" You ask
>She looks away in thought for a moment, tapping her chin with a hoof before nodding enthusiastically
>"Come on, you don't want me wandering back here alone drunk in the dark, do you Shotty?" She asks in an intentionally overly-innocent tone
>You scramble your way to your hooves awkwardly as you glare at her, "If you keep calling me Shotty, it's tempting."
>She shakes her head and sticks her tongue out at you before grabbing you by the hoof and pulling you out of your shitty little shanty shack.
>When you looked back at it from the outside, it immediately reminded you of photos of those shanties in Ho Chi Minh City during the Vietnam War, but without the 'Cong
>You passively decide to let Coca Breeze to lead you by the hoof toward this supposed pub she had spotted
>You didn't plan on having but maybe a beer or two yourself, just to see what a beer tasted like as a horse
>Also, you had to admit, it felt like it had been forever since you'd had an ice cold beer...
>And, despite your threat, you really didn't feel comfortable letting your only friend wander home through the ghetto drunk.
>Even as you both trotted now, rough-looking ponies roamed the wide dirt road going through the middle of the shantytown.
>You were usually good at noticing a potential pickpocketer, and when you'd see a suspicious-looking mare or stallion start to make their way toward you and Breeze, you'd make sure to keep your saddlebag facing the opposite direction.
>Eventually, you both make it to town square, where Coca Breeze hops with joy at the sight of the green-painted pub with gold-paned windows.
>"Finally! Come on Shot, I'll buy you the first shot!" Coca barely gets out before cracking up
>You roll your eyes but smirk at the bubbly mare's sillyness. "I just want like, one beer. That's all, okay?"
>You follow Coca inside the pub. It was dimly lit by candles on the inside, and your ears flickered at the loud live bagpipe band that played in the corner, with a drunk-looking, fat stallion in a kilt yelling "SCOTLAAAAND FOREEEEVVVER!" every half minute or so
>At least it had an atmosphere
>You and Coca make your way up to the bar. She orders a double-shot of tequila, which the bartender hesitantly serves.
>You frown, looking at the list of beers on tap before settling on one called "The Ger-mane-y Experience", an authentic Munich-style lager
>You liked German beer, and you had to admit the horse pun wasn't too bad
>The bartender, a spindly-legged tall pegasus mare, serves your tall mug of frothy goodness about the same time Coca Breeze takes her first shot
>You were just glad you weren't going to be her in the morning
>You nod in thanks to the bartender, smiling in gratitude. "You have no idea how long it's been since I've had an ice cold beer." You say before taking a deep swig.
>You can't help but think that the taste of wheat and barley on your taste buds was so much better than when you were human
>You spend the next fifteen minutes enjoying the one pint of beer, but you're too worried about accidentally misjudging how much your little pony body can take before becoming too intoxicated
>After all, you needed to keep a clear head in case an official approached you about where to report for work, or in case you came across a clue that might help you turn back to human or find a way home
>You spend the rest of the evening keeping Coca Breeze company as she gets totally wasted knocking back shots of tequila
>You do your best to keep her from making a fool of herself, and she eventually fell asleep at the barstool
>You tiredly hop off the barstool sighing contently, your short but thick stallion frame hitting the wooden floor with a soft thud
>Gently, you shift Coca Breeze onto your back, making sure to position her head so that in case she threw up it would be as far away from your coat as possible
>You tip the bar mare and carry Coca Breeze home before returning to your shack
>You crawl back into your sleeping bag
>You're glad you went, and it was fun, but you're glad to be snug because your body was screaming at you for more sleep
>You figured you'd check up on Coca Breeze in the morning. Maybe you could bring her some breakfast.
>Judging by how drunk she was, a pancake breakfast might be just what the hangover orders
>Wondering what awaits you tomorrow, you drift off to sleep with thoughts of your family back home, hoping that they are able to go on without you until you figure out a way to make it back to them