Grand Re-re-reopening (Closed)

[Mortar Retort]

On a little street, down from Pony-Joe’s Doughnut Shop and just a street over from the Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns, which stands looming over the streets below it like a golden monolith to the might of Equestrian royalty, sits a mid-sized two story shop on a little patch of land all to itself. Separated from the rest of the homes and businesses and largely glossed over by the populace outside the mages circle and magic practicing unicorns, it’s eccentric façade is the only thing that would catch the eye of ponies passing by. It’s cobblestone path leads to a dark oak door, which edifice beside the frame has the painted wood cut-out of a disembodied hoof of a blue-gray pony pointing towards a painted scroll that spans the length of the door outlining the shops apparent rules:

1. No foals allowed (that means you, blankflank)!
2. You break, drink, or explode it and survive, you buy it.
--2b. If death occurs due to the aforementioned on premises, the corpse becomes the property of the proprietor till debt is paid by next of kin.
3. Fezzes are neither free nor for sale.
4. Owner holds the right to refuse service to anypony/griffon/dog/dragon or creature not otherwise mentioned.
5. The Mane Ingredient is neither liable nor responsible for any ill-happenings that may result due to the use, consumption or digestion of any of its products.
6. All sales are final.
7. There are no dumb questions, only dumb ponies.

Over the door to the establishment is a slightly charred and aged banner exclaiming it is the shop’s ‘Grand Re-re-reopening’ in hastily scribbled letters over the clear markings of poorly erased words left streaked in black smudges under the dark black font. The shop looks empty and abandoned from the outside, if not for the little ‘Open’ sign left hanging in the window.

Inside the door, somepony would find it slightly gloomy with a large number of wooden shelves and locked cabinets adorning the walls filled with an alarming assortment of bottles, cases, dried herbs and tubers as well as other strange objects. Behind the counter opposite the front door is an entire wall donated to a varied assortment of fezzes on little hooks. Beside them, opposite a doorway leading into the back, is another series of shelves containing even more odd bottles filled with a strange array of colorful liquids. Purple, blues, pinks, and even brilliant rainbows shine brilliantly through their clear glass bottles casting an eerie light on the entire storefront. The entire store smells delectably sweet, despite its old appearance with the hint of flowery herbs and spices lingering heavy on the air inside, with just that hint of apples wafting in from the back rooms.

The gentle stillness of the shop is suddenly torn asunder as a tiny explosion rocks the entire building, clanking bottles together and knocking fezzes from their perch. A plume of spicy, apply smoke erupts from a back room, spilling out into the front as a hacking and coughing stallion unicorn emerges, wearing a faded and dingy red fez. His gray-blue face is coated in a fine mist of strong apple cider and his steel and gray streaked mane is frazzled and ill-kept, which appeared to be only worsened by the explosion that just ensued. He staggers out in a disheveled trot to the front, hacking and spitting.

“Oh you lousy-“ He scolded back, at the alembic distiller that decided to buck him in the face. “Have half the mind to send you straight to the Celestia forsaken moon, you piece of manure! You blow my place up one more time and it’s off the Canterlot waterfalls you go!” He grudgingly begun to telekinetically clean up the minor mess the explosion had made, wrapping the fallen and discombobulated bottles in a glow of blueish magic and setting them back into their proper places.

[puckbuckworth]

A small brown pony trotted up alongside the indisposed pony's side, holding a parchment and a quill in his mouth. He placed the parchment on the floor, unrolling it with his forehooves and readied his right hoof for writing. Puck turned to the elder pony and said. "Sir Mortar Retort, would'st thou kindly inform me of the details of this latest explosion?"

Puck had visited Mortar's shop several times in the days it was previously open. As both a scribe and a newspony, it was his duty to tell the concerned Canterlot citizens about the causes of the constant peace-shattering explosions that came from the shop. While his reports often stirred up authority problems for the fez-clad experimenter, Puck was not to blame for that. He was only the messenger.

[Mortar Retort]

Retort was far to caught up in his cleaning and insistent fixation on returning his shop to how it looked pre-blast to notice Puck at first. Thankfully, unlike the previous mishaps that nearly leveled the building, this was minor and contained within his distillation room. He continued to ignored Puck for a moment, adjusting the vials of various concoctions upon a rickety shelf first - still speaking ill of the distiller that was the direct cause of this mishap.

No foals- Oh! It's you... Retort exclaimed, first in surprise, then in annoyance as he looked down to the small pony. Just what he needed, more bad press for his shop, though, somepony once said that any publicity was good publicity. "I haven't a clue what you're going on about, Buckworth. Explosions? Hah! Just minor backfires - Alchemy is as much an art as it is a science, there are bound to be mishaps. Nothing to worry about though. You can quote me on that."

A loud rumble stirs from the back room with the distiller, like a loud pony-powered engine that was in dire need of repair. There's a deafening pop, a hiss, followed by a river of bubbles spilling forth from the room into the hallway and out around the service counter. Retort's horn glows as he turns to the door and magically slams the door shut. The sounds turn dull but still audible as the distiller goes into overdrive behind the wooden portal.

"Laundry, nothing to worry about."He explained, though the strong smell of distilled apples clearly indicated otherwise. "You will be writing about this won't you?" Sheepishly asking, "Well, since you are here, interested in a potion? I'm sure I have one that can make you... taller at least!" He had no such potion, but his placebo shelf suggested otherwise (those were mostly water and diluted bits of leftover herbs in cheap glass bottles). "Give you special grand re-re-reopening price! Especially if you can be a extremely nice in that article of yours, remember, 'mishap' and 'under-control' are the key words." He shoot Buckworth a obscene, and creepy, smile. "So, how about it? Best rate in Canterlot." It would be the only rate in Canterlot.

[puckbuckworth]

Puck quickly pulled up his parchment in his mouth to keep it from getting doused in the small puddle forming at their hooves. He put it away in his saddlebag, then put his muzzle in the air. "Methinks I'll pass on the offer of the potion, if it doeth to me what hath been done to thy apothecary, I would not be long for this world." Puck took a sniff of the air. "Dost thou usually wash thy robes in apple cider?"

[Mortar Retort]

Retort just merely blinked, taken back by the tongue-in-cheek insult to his craft. Certainly it wasn't always perfectly stable but he had yet to end another pony due to it - that he knows of. There have been customers in the past that never came back, they could of perhaps been killed do to some ill-fated concoction of his but there was no definite proof to this.

"Sometimes, why, don't you?" Retort asked mater of factly. "Truth of the matter is..." He stumbled, trying to figure out a decent fib to justify his earlier statement. "I'm working on a flame-retardant concoction for fabric to pre... ven... Oh Retort you clever devil!" He nickered and excitedly trotted back behind the counter. "Buckworth, take a note!" He slipped into the back, emerging a few moments later with an assortment of ingredients wrapped in magic and a bottle in his mouth. He sets them atop the counter beside the register. Then flips out a mortar and pestle from under it, then begins mixing his gathered supplies.

"One part Wolfsbane, one Sewant mushroom, a pinch of Puffhead, combine." The pestle grounds the ingredients together. "Mandrake shavings, and a speckling of dried drakes blood." Grinds the last of the reagents together, then pours them into the bottle. He slides over a dark and non-descript vial filled with some brown viscus liquid. He pours a fair amount of the thick oil into the bottle with the crushed ingredients, set it aside, then corks the bottle. "Now heat and mix!" Straining, Retort encases the bottle with the magic from his horn, producing a strong heat to cook the contents inside, then gingerly swirls it in the air. This is about the time one should probably run if they fear for their limbs. After a few moments, the bottle cools and sets down on the table ominously.

"Now...." Retort cringed, stepping back very slowly away from the possible bomb about to go off in their midst. The new concoction rumbles, rattling on the counter for a long, suspended minute. Suddenly the cork pops with a trail of smoke behind it and the bottle quiets. The cork falling beside it. " Brilliant! Buckworth!?" He turned to look at the young pony with excitement. "Want to try on one of my cloaks? I believe with this poured over it, it'll be completely impervious to a fire. That... or it'll give you an itchy rash." He thought about the prospect for a moment. "And you'd still get burned, that wouldn't be good at all. But I'm almost certain I got the proportions right. It won't take but a minute to test. I'll even name it after you!"

[puckbuckworth]

Puck dutifully scribbled down the ingredients as retort listed them. It was the very least he could do for his long-suffered acquaintance. When the alchemist suggested he put on a robe doused with a potion though, he resumed looking oddly towards him. "Sir Retort, if thou ist trying to bribe me or snuff me out it be a shallow attempt at either."

Puck gave a sigh, his look turning sincere as he looked up at the elder pony. "To be truthful, I admire thou and I respect thy ways of science. I am merely a public servant attempting to assure the townsfolk alerted by thy....'outbursts' that there beith not a crazy horse in this stable. If thee wisheth not to look badly in mine report, then it would behoove thee to tell the truth."

[Mortar Retort]

Retort let out a delighted laugh, Buckworth absolutely ticked him with the accusation. Never, in all his years, has he so blatantly been accused of bribery or ponyslaughter. It was truly laughable, it was also slightly true in one regard.

”Buckworth, you silly pony, the bribe was that thing I offered you the first time! But you’re young still, I can forgive that little oversight on your part.” He continued to laugh it off, muttering to himself about the silliness of it all. ”And to say I’d ‘snuff’ you, well that’s down right ridiculous. How would that look for my business. Who would buy from a pony that went around setting other ponies on fire all willy-nilly? No, Buckworth, this is merely science!” He cleared his throat, pointing a hoof to his chest smugly. ”Testing is the most important part of the method. How would I know if the potion caused just itching and nothing more, or not, or perhaps it would do something entirely unforeseen. It’s all part of the great mystery of science and the search for truth. Test, observe, rinse and repeat. I just was inquiring if wished to be part of this great undertaking, nothing malicious intended.”

The potion he had concocted begun to bubble over, which caught the attention of Retort with a shift of his eyes. He immediately employed his magic to slam the cork back into the bottle. He smiled back at Puck, playing it off. ”My colt,” He sat beside Puck and put a hoof over the pony’s shoulder then begun to speak in a very matter-of-factly tone. ” You can tell the fine ponies of Canterlot that The Mane Ingredient is as safe as any other fine establishment this city has to offer. I’ve taken care of the little problems that plagued me when I first opened. Yes, I’ll admit that an explosion ripped this and a few other buildings apart could make anypony concerned. Then, of course, there was the fiery explosion that engulfed most of my shop last month. And today I had a little bubbly eruption in the back room, but, as you can see, I’m making progress. Alchemy is a progressive science, after all. Set backs are to be expected, but the outcome will be far worth the trouble it’s caused. My work will benefit all of ponykind, just you wait and see.”

[puckbuckworth]

"Now that beith a reasonable answer...I suppose." Puck scribbled down Retort's response word for word before tearing the parchment in half, leaving the alchemist's flame retardant recipe on the counter, while keeping his own half for his news story. "I know not the ways of science, but I know the convictions of a wise pony. For thy experiment, however, methinks thou should first try it on the cloak itself before thou venture to stick a pony of any size underneath."

[Mortar Retort]

Retort mused over Buckworth's suggestion about testing the cloak alone before testing it on a pony. It seemed a bit simplistic. Where were the variables, the unaccounted conditions, and most importantly it wasn't nearly as entertaining. The thrill and excitement of trying something new and possibly dangerious, it was what made experimentation fun. Then an idea came to him, what if he tested it outside, for ponies to watch. If it worked, great advertising, if not, claim it was infested or something of that sort. He had a plan now.

" Brilliant! Buckworth, you brilliant pony. That gives me the perfect, safe idea. Admittedly not as entertaining but it should do just as well. Buckworth, add in that article, if you please, that I, Mortar Retort, will hold a demonstration in two days time to show Canterlot that Alchemy is as safe as it is useful. To be held right here. All are welcome to come and witness the awesome blending of science and magic."

[puckbuckworth]

Puck raised a brow. He had no idea how he suggested that. Nonetheless, he added Retort's addendum to his parchment. "There, it is written. I hope you find a stouter pony than I to test that concoction upon..."

[Mortar Retort]

Retort waves his hoof, as if letting the thought of using another pony to test the concoction float away. He then got back up on his hooves and trotted back behind the counter, then took the potion he had made and placing it on a little shelf beside him. "I'm sure I can pay some ragamuffin if need. So," Looking back over to Puck with a chipper smile. "Any more I can do to help ease the minds of our fellow citizens!?"

[puckbuckworth]

Puck thought for a moment. "No, that is...quite enough." Puck rolled up his parchment and held it between his teeth putting it back in his saddle bag. "I shall return posthaste with news of thy demonstration. With luck, thy alchemy shall....dispel any false truth about thy suspicious behavior." With a light laugh, Puck trotted out the front door.

[Mortar Retort]

”That’s the idea… hopefully. Might make it worse…” Retorted mused with a tilted head while he rubbed his chin with his hoof, then fixed his fez that had begun sliding from its perch.
”That’s a problem to tackle when it arises! Puck, make haste! Return anytime you wish, preferably with bits and a desire to spend it! My line of bombs is almost ready, stable ones this time. Big sale!”

As Puck trotted out the door, it shutting behind him, the sound sent the distiller in the backroom into a fit of anger. It roared, rumbled, then spat out another large wave of delicious cidery bubbles that swarmed into the front store, blanketing Retort in frothy goodness. He licked them away from his face and smiled most delightfully at that crisp apple taste.

”Delicious!”