The shop, as it so happened, was not as elusive as Ace had feared. Taylor’s Tailor’s was one of many connected brick shops, flanked by a sushi bar on one side and an alley on the other. The "Pony Clothing Sold Here" sign was unnecessary, as a pair of his and hers pony shaped mannequins, clothed in an impressively adapted approximation of the current fashion trends, were positioned prominently in the front window. The door was propped open, so Ace let himself in.
Inside, Ace was surprised by the bizarre dichotomy of the store. On the left, a collection of mid to high end men's and women's apparel was displayed neatly across several wooden tables and metal racks. In stark contrast, the right side was overflowing with hundreds of articles of clothing designed for the equestrian form. Jackets and dresses, cloaks and gowns, pieces of all shapes and sizes were crammed, stacked and stuffed into every available space.
"Why, hello darling," a feminine voice greeted. Ace turned and was shocked to find himself face to face with an extremely familiar cyan furred, rainbow maned pony.
"Welcome to Taylor's Tailor's," she continued cheerfully, "the greatest repository of pony clothing on Earth!"
Ace was too stunned to respond.
"Like what you see?" she teased with a flirtatious smile and a wink.
"Sorry, I didn’t mean...”
“Oh don’t worry about it darling,” she waved him off. “With a mane as gorgeous as mine, one comes to expect a bit of staring.”
"And the whole ‘being Rainbow Dash’ thing has nothing to do with it then?"
"Well I suppose at first,” she conceded, “but after the interested party finds that I lack a pair of rather crucial appendages,” she turned to show her smooth wingless back, “my beautiful mane and tail are more than enough to hold their attention."
"Ah,” he nodded.
"Now then, what can I help you with?"
"Well, I was..."
"Wait,” she interrupted, “don't tell me. I know exactly what you need."
The wingless Rainbow Dash lookalike grabbed Ace and pulled him deep into the bowels of the store. Standing him in a mirrored alcove, she began to gather clothing off of the racks and pile them next to him.
"So," Ace began, "you're Gloria then?"
"Hm?" she paused for a moment. "Yes, I am. How did you know?"
"A friend told me," he explained. "She's the one who recommended your store."
"Well I suppose word of mouth really is the best advertising there is," she commented idly, before returning to her work. Ace watched in mild horror as Gloria continued to toss a never ending stream of outfits onto the pile.
"Out of curiosity," he continued, anxious to delay the inevitable, "if this is Taylor's Tailor's, then where's Taylor the tailor?" Gloria froze.
"Why, she's in the back," she explained sweetly, resuming her piling. "Earlier today there were a couple of problems that she's been dealing with."
"Does she need any help?" Ace asked, eager to avoid the towering mountain of material that awaited him. "I happen to be very good at problem solving."
"I'm sure she's fine," Gloria countered, quickly.
"Are you..." Ace was cut off by a loud crash coming from a the back of the store.
"Please excuse me for a moment," Gloria said politely, setting down the garment she was holding and hurried through the open doorway behind the register.
"Hmm, I wonder what that's all about," he said, attempting to stroke his chin thoughtfully, then pouted when he remembered he lacked the fingers to do so. His eyes turn to the doorway.
"Do I, or don't I?" Ace debated. He pondered this until he caught sight of the soul crushing mountain of clothing next to him. One eyebrow rose when, upon closer examination, he discovered that the top layer was primarily pink dresses.
“Well that’s just insulting,” he muttered, walking to the doorway. “I’d look awful in pink.”