Spoiled Rich
As the clock strikes two, and just as you’ve settled back in your place on the couch, there’s another knock at the door, but before you can even say ‘come in’, it’s already opened, and rather forcefully at that.
This must be Client #3 for the day, and one you actually had not been looking forward to, once you saw the name.
Spoiled Rich.
Now this is a pony you’ve seen very sparingly, and only surrounded by ponies of business and importance, like Mayor Mare. You do know that she’s married to Filthy Rich, the owner of Barnyard Bargains, Ponyville’s premiere retail shopping center, which also had a few locations in other cities. You’ve seen the two together once or twice, alongside their daughter, Diamond Tiara. From the way she goes about, one would expect to find her in Canterlot or Manehattan, not a quiet town like Ponyville, and perhaps she’s conscious of that.
Spoiled Rich has a salmon-pink coat and a purple mane and tail, the former styled in a rather meticulous way. It’s the sort of look that seems to belong on someone who would demand to see a company’s manager over the slightest infraction. She also has icy-blue eyes and a cutie mark resembling a diamond ring. Unlike most ponies in Ponyville, she wears clothing on a regular basis. In this case, she’s dressed in a sea-green blouse with a golden, gem-studded hem, with a golden chain necklace around her neck.
Now, it would be rude to call her ‘unattractive’, which she isn’t. However, she doesn’t exactly inspire much envy from her looks, though she must have looked lovely when she was younger. Her default expressions, whenever you’ve seen her, have either been smug superiority or scornful disdain. She often has that look of somepony with a nasty smell under their nose, but fate seemed to take things a bit too literally in her case. For reasons you can’t even fathom, her nose is actually turned upwards, not exactly like the beak of a bird, but more like the horn of a rhinoceros. You’ve seen some snooty and entitled ponies in Manehattan with their noses in the air, but this was taking things to a whole new level.
Perhaps that’s part of the reason that seeing her gives you an unpleasant feeling, or even seeing that she’d put herself down for an appointment today. Her whole demeanor recalls uncomfortable memories, ones you’d rather keep tucked away in the back of your mind...
Nevertheless, you have to remain professional, so you put on your best smile.
“Good afternoon, Spoiled Rich,” you say.
She gives you a sharp look, as though you’d just uttered something vulgar. Was she not in the mood for pleasantries?
“Good afternoon,” she says, dryly. “I’d prefer to be called ‘Mrs. Rich’, if you don’t mind.”
The lofty condescension in her tone makes your skin crawl, but she’s your client, and you have to accommodate for her,
“Right, of course, Mrs. Rich,” you say. “Please, take a seat.”
She eyes the couch beadily, and you can already tell it’s not up to her high standards. Still, it’s the only seating in the room besides the floor, so she struts over to it with her head held high, then comes to a stop just before it. There’s an awkward pause as she looks at you, as though expecting something. For a moment, you can’t imagine what the problem could be this time, and wonder what she’s waiting for.
Then, a strange thought comes to you. Surely she isn’t expecting a hand-up? Not onto a simple couch, surely. Getting into or down from a carriage is one thing, but a couch? And yet, there she is, standing stock-still, watching and waiting with that expectant look on her face.
Resisting the urge to roll your eyes at such presumption and laziness, you offer her your hand. With a smirk of satisfaction, she puts her hoof in it, and you help her ascend up onto the couch.
“It’s good to see that common courtesy isn’t lost on the youth of today,” she says, as she makes herself comfortable, “even if you’re not exactly a pony.”
Was that meant to be a compliment? You certainly hope it was.
Her eyes stray to the plate of cookies sitting on the table, and she looks faintly amused.
“Homemade cookies? How delightfully simple. I must decline, however. I’m trying to watch my figure.”
She doesn’t seem to be watching it very well. She appears to be developing a bit of a double chin, from what you can see. Still, you say nothing.
“Perfectly fine,” you say. “Accommodation is the cornerstone of this practice, after all.”
Spoiled gives you a sidelong look, but says nothing. It may be your imagination, but there’s something almost pitying in that look. Not sympathetic, but more like someone amused by someone’s naivete. You try to ignore it and press on.
“So, you’ve decided to try out affection therapy for yourself, Mrs. Rich?”
Spoiled gives a short, derisive laugh.
“Try it out? Goodness, no.”
You blink.
“Come again?”
“Look, I’m sure you’re doing a world of good for ponies with all of this cuddly, lovey-dovey nonsense, but let me tell you something, dear: hugs don’t make the world go round. Maybe they do in Ponyville, but not the rest of Equestria. That’s what a nice big sack of bits is for.”
You’re starting to get an unpleasant tingling sensation. This talk coming from her sounds very familiar, and not in a good way. You clear your throat.
“So, if I understand correctly,” you say, trying to keep your voice steady, “you signed up for an affection therapy appointment, without intending to undergo affection therapy?”
Spoiled didn’t look the least bit abashed.
“I simply saw that the spa was advertising a new treatment, and I had bits to burn, so I decided to set up an appointment and, perhaps, give you a little advice for the future, so that you’re not just spinning your wheels and wasting your potential. A human like you could be doing so much more.”
It’s taking every ounce of restraint in you not to snap at this infuriating woman. She signed up for an affection therapy appointment just to tell you you’re wasting your time? The nerve!
“Mrs. Rich,” you say, still trying to keep your voice even, but finding it difficult, “you do realize that the time you’re taking for this appointment, time you yourself admit you don’t intend to use for its intended purpose, could have been reserved for a pony who was actually in need of it?”
“I hardly see why that matters,” says Spoiled, carelessly. “Given how much the ponies in this town have lapped up your ‘therapy’, you must have quite the waiting list. You might even have ponies coming back for a second time. It wouldn’t surprise me.”
“That’s hardly the point, Mrs. Rich-”
“And, really,” Spoiled goes on, “if you’re to start a practice like this in the first place, why not in this podunk of a town?”
...Podunk?
Is that how she views Ponyville?
“By Celestia, this town’s gone to the dogs,” she continues, derisively. “Not that it was ever that noteworthy to begin with.”
Not noteworthy? Was she blind to the presence of Twilight and her friends?
“And do you know what’s worse?” she continues. “It has such a corrupting influence on sensible ponies. My successful and enterprising husband picks a family of farmers to be his business partners, all because of some silly jam trade his grandfather made with them years ago. I still can’t fathom what he sees in them to make them equal partners in his business.”
She surely can’t be talking about Zap Apple Jam, the most delicious seasonal treat of anything apple-related ever. You’d once heard an abridged version of how discovering the apples that made it led to Ponyville being discovered in the first place. How could the wife of the stallion who dealt with the stuff know nothing about it? Or, at least, speak so uncaringly about it?
“Then my daughter, the heiress to our family legacy, the pony I’ve been raising to uphold our reputation, not only loses the election of class president to that undersized transplant from Trottingham, but chooses to side with a trio of bumbling blank flanks over her own mother, embarrassing me in front of her whole class. So what if they got their cutie marks that very day? That still does not give her the right to speak back to me in such a way!”
Trio of blank flanks? The only trio of ponies you’d seen together in one place were the Cutie Mark Crusaders. You’d never known them as ‘blank flanks’, but you’d heard snippets of the crazy things they’d gotten up to to earn their cutie marks. The way Spoiled Rich used that term made it sound like an offensive slur. And ‘transplant from Trottingham’? Did she mean little Pipsqueak?
“And now we’ve got folks like you making ponies think a few hugs and ear scratches can make all their problems go away. Honestly, sometimes I wonder why I even bother with this town anymore.”
This is too much!
She can come in here just to tell you you’re wasting your time with your practice. It’s her opinion, and she’s entitled to it. You never went into this practice assuming everypony would approve of it. But when you she uses that opinion to disparage Ponyville as a whole, that’s something you simply can’t condone!
You can feel your blood boiling, and your fingers twitch, as though itching to ball up into fists. Your teeth clench behind your lips, and a furious diatribe is already poised at the end of your tongue, as she sits there, smugly aloof, not even looking at you, apparently proud of what she’s just poisoned the air of your therapy room with.
“Yeah, that’s right, let her have it! Tell her what you think of her! Don’t let her get away with talking like that! You’ve been burning to tell those Manehattan ponies what you thought of them, and you never got the chance when you left. Well, this mare’s practically Manehattan personified, so let ‘er rip! Don’t hold back!”
...No.
This isn’t right.
Almost as quickly as your blood and brain had ignited, they start to cool down again, and rationality begins to return as well.
Why should you bring yourself down to her level? She wanted to take time away from ponies who would actually want affection therapy to talk about how you were wasting your time and talents? That’s her problem. It shouldn’t have to be yours. Retaliating with harsh words isn’t going to solve anything. It might be what she wants. The bullies and thugs back in Manehattan just wanted to get a rise out of the ones they tormented, to let them know they’d gotten under your skin. Why give them that satisfaction? Besides, it would reflect poorly on your reputation as a spa employee. A lack of professionalism, especially in the face of a difficult client, would paint you in a very poor light.
The diatribe you’d been prepared to hurl at her dies away like a melting ice cube. Instead, you reflect on what she’s said, all the disparaging remarks she’d made. You decide that you should play off of that, make polite conversation, address her points of grievance, and act like this is still a professional session.
You take a deep breath, clear your throat, and say,
“I’m sorry to hear Ponyville’s not up to your satisfaction, Mrs. Rich. I’m quite fond of it myself.”
Spoiled makes a light scoffing noise. Possibly, she’s annoyed that she didn’t get a rise out of you from what she said. You ignore it and carry on.
“It’s a far better home than Manehattan ever was for me.”
This simple declaration knocks Spoiled out of her smug reverie. She looks at you disbelievingly.
“...You used to live in Manehattan?” she asks. “Funny, you don’t seem the type.”
“I’m not,” you say, honestly. “It’s a fine enough town with a lot going for it, but it just wasn’t for me. That’s why I finally had enough and moved here. It’s been like a breath of fresh air ever since.”
“Is that so?” Spoiled asks. “Well, I suppose it’s all right for some…”
You can sense that she’s about to start on Ponyville again, so you decide to cut in.
“Honestly, I feel lucky living in a town like this.”
She raises an eyebrow at you.
“Lucky?” she repeats.
“Sure! Think about it: it’s the same place where the Princess of Friendship and her friends live. They’ve saved Equestria who knows how many times by now, and yet they’re such humble and approachable ponies. Ponyville has a lot to be thankful for because of them.”
The sneer slowly vanishes from Spoiled’s face. It seems like she hadn’t considered that before, or else didn’t like that that was being brought up.
“I suppose…” she says, slowly.
“Do you know Princess Twilight, Mrs. Rich?” you ask, casually.
Spoiled blinks in surprise.
“Do I know her?” she repeats.
“I mean, she and her friends are pretty important ponies in Equestria,” you say, “and I often see you surrounded by ponies of importance. I just wondered if Princess Twilight was among your social circle.”
Spoiled looks rather awkward at this question. A very faint blush tinges her reddish-pink cheeks.
“Well...no,” she says, after a pause.
“No?” you ask, mildly.
“Not to say I wouldn’t, of course,” says Spoiled, hurriedly, giving a bold show of her usual swagger. “It’s the highest honor to have royalty among your acquaintances. It’s merely that she prefers, as you said yourself, humbler company.”
“Ah, I see,” you say. “That’s too bad. As the Princess of Friendship, I’m sure she would be more than happy to get to know as many ponies as she could, though I suppose nopony can surpass Pinkie Pie for that.”
Spoiled says nothing to that, but you do see her roll her eyes. Seems she’s not fond of Pinkie, either. Then again, is there anypony she is fond of? Now that you think about it, you can’t exactly see even a pony like Twilight having much patience for Spoiled’s attitude.
“If that’s the case,” you continue, “I suppose you don’t really know Applejack, either.”
A faint look of distaste creases Spoiled’s brow at this.
“I do know her, yes,” she says. “I was introduced to her and her brother when Filthy and I were engaged, back when he had just taken over his family’s business. Now that was a day I’ll hardly forget, much as I’d like to.”
“Ah, yes, that’s true,” you say. “You were quite vocal just a bit ago about not understanding why your husband would have a partnership with a family of farmers. You said it was symptomatic of a corruption of sensibility, I believe.”
You say all of this quite casually, as though you were discussing the day’s weather, but the effect isn’t lost on Spoiled Rich. That same flush has returned to her cheeks, and she doesn’t look you in the eye. It seems she doesn’t like her words being used against her. You press on.
“It may just be because I don’t know the whole story, but I’m a little surprised you see it that way, given what the Apples have done for Ponyville and your husband’s business. From what I’ve heard, it was the Apples who made the Zap Apple Jam that put both Ponyville and Barnyard Bargains on the map. Without the Apples, Filthy Rich might not have become the businesspony he is today. Ponyville might never have come to be. Just imagine.”
You flash Spoiled a smile, and, surprise surprise, she doesn’t return it. Her eyes are narrowed, and her teeth are bared.
“I’m not unaware, thank you very much,” she says, through gritted teeth. “I’m fully aware, and that’s the problem. The fact that my husband became a success because of a family of dirt-trotting, tree kicking apple farmers is an embarrassment I simply can’t abide. Any reasonable pony of wealth and rank would die of shame to know that the reason they have their money is because of ponies at the bottom of the social totem pole.”
A new hot flash of anger surges through you at all of this, but again, you keep it down.
“And now my daughter’s become friends with their youngest, when I specifically told her not to fraternize with such low company, and if she must, then she should assert her superiority at every opportunity, especially when she hadn’t even gotten her cutie mark yet. I mean, honestly, if a pony her age couldn’t even earn her cutie mark when everypony in her class already had...”
She doesn’t finish, and yet again, you have to work hard to keep your temper in check. By the sound of it, she had specifically raised her daughter to torment Apple Bloom, just because she, Spoiled, resented her family for giving Filthy Rich his wealth in the first place. There was ingratitude, and then there was just being petty.
“I don’t see the problem with associating with the Apples, personally,” you say.
Spoiled shoots you a nasty glare, one that wouldn’t have been out of place on the face of a cockatrice, ready to turn you to stone...
“Of course you wouldn’t,” she hisses. “You have no idea of the kind of world I live in, the position my family and I hold, the image we carry in Ponyville, in all of Equestria! How could someone like you possibly understand?!”
You can’t help but feel intimidated by the venom in her voice. It’s almost as disconcerting as when Starlight divulged her dark past to you. Thankfully, Spoiled isn’t a unicorn, so there’s no danger of anger-induced magic possibly being used against you.
Nevertheless, you have an answer for her, one that’s been on your mind all the time you’ve lived in Manehattan.
“You’re right, Mrs. Rich. I don’t understand. I don’t know what drives ponies of a higher station in life, or those who believe they are, to obsess about the company around them, and what makes them treat others so poorly at times. I’ve seen it often enough in Manehattan: ponies acting like they’re better than others, just so they can bring them down or get what they want out of them. I’d like to understand why, but I don’t.”
Spoiled glares at you for another moment or two, but then, her expression gradually softens. This alteration in demeanor shocks you more than her sudden rage. She looks resigned, weary. She sighs, gazing down at the floor.
“Why is it so hard for anypony to understand?” she asks. “We’re Riches. It’s our destiny to climb the social ladder to the pinnacle of aristocracy. We’re meant to rub elbows with the elite of the elite, not the common folk. Even when I wasn’t a Rich yet, it was still the same. I have a reputation to maintain as a member of two wealthy families. Should I sully that by associating myself with farm ponies and common city folk? I would never be seen the same way again…”
She turns her head away from you, but you can still see her expression. There’s no trace of a sneer on her face. Instead, she looks sad, even lonely.
You hardly know what to say to this. After listening to Spoiled speak so smugly and condescendingly, to now hear her sound so...vulnerable is very disquieting. All you can do is sit and stare at her, before she continues.
“I even took special care to impress that on my daughter. If she’s to inherit the Rich family legacy, she needs to maintain the reputation of a wealthy pony. She’d only ruin it if she goes about fraternizing with ponies like those bl- er, former blank flanks. And now she’s forgetting everything I ever taught her. At least,” she added, quietly, “that’s how I saw it.”
It’s becoming clearer to you now. Now you’re getting a better picture of what makes this pony named Spoiled Rich tick, much as you doubted you ever could. She’s a victim of high expectations, and has been valuing her reputation and social standing over the way she treats other ponies.
It’s strange, but at the moment, you’re actually starting to...pity her. It doesn’t seem possible, but there it is. This is a pony who looks and behaves like everything you’ve come to resent about living in Manehattan, and you’re feeling sorry for her.
You almost feel like putting your hand on her shoulder to comfort her, but something tells you that she wouldn’t like that. Instead, you clear your throat, and say, quietly,
“I might not have personal experience with being from a wealthy or influential family, but I do know the stress of living up to ponies’ expectations. Ponies expect you to live your life a certain way, and you do what you can to appease them and fulfill that vision they have of you. I’ve had that happen to me. Being a human in a world of ponies isn’t easy.”
She looks up at you, not with hostility or disdain, but a kind of sad curiosity. You wonder if, maybe, she wants to know more, but feels it beyond her dignity to ask.
“Even so,” you continue, “I’ve learned that what ponies see you as shouldn’t come from being mean and hurtful to others. I’ve had ponies try to make me believe that it’s everypony for themselves, to trample or be trampled, but that just never sat well with me. I want to be remembered for trying to do some good for ponies, even if it’s not something huge or spellbinding. I don’t want to be remembered as someone who treated everypony else like my inferiors. I didn’t want followers. I wanted friends.”
It’s ironic. You never expected to say so much that had been sitting in your heart about your life in Manehattan to somepony who reminded you of everything wrong with Manehattan. Still, there you are.
Something flickers in Spoiled’s eyes when you finish speaking. She stares off into space for a moment or two, looking as though she’s been reminded of something.
“Friends…” she mutters. “Something I don’t have…”
“Come again?” you ask.
“It’s what Diamond Tiara said to me when she spoke back to me,” says Spoiled. “The day she stood up for those three fillies. She wanted something I didn’t have: friends.”
You wince at this. Truthfully, you’d think it unlikely that many ponies would willingly call somepony like Spoiled Rich a friend, but given all the ponies she and her husband surrounded themselves with, surely there must be a pony or two. ...Isn’t there?
She seems to answer for you, however, in that same slow and distant voice.
“I have my husband and my daughter, and a circle of wealthy acquaintances...but when I think about it, I don’t think I could call them ‘friends’...I suppose I never really did have friends…Even when I was a filly, there seemed to just be foals chosen for me to associate with, because my parents knew theirs. I suppose my name didn’t help matters, before I was known as Spoiled Rich.”
“What was your name, if I may ask?” you ask, feeling wary about what the answer could be.
“Spoiled Milk.”
...She wasn’t serious, was she?
“...Spoiled...Milk?” you repeat, blankly.
“I know, it’s not the prettiest name,” says Spoiled, with a sigh, “and not one ponies would want to have among their friends. To this day, even I don’t know what my parents were thinking when they named me that. If I can be honest, I never really thought about it at length. All that mattered was that I did what was required of me: live wealthy, marry wealthy. That’s all I was told to care about.”
You nod slowly, comprehending.
“And you passed those beliefs on to your daughter,” you say.
She nods in turn, still not looking at you.
“...It’s all I’ve been thinking about, ever since that day. I still try to keep a bold face on when I’m out in public. Ponies do see me a certain way, after all, and I feel that I have to maintain that, even if it means...well, acting spoiled. It’s what they’ve come to expect, after all…”
There’s a definite note of bitterness at the end of this statement. It seems Spoiled is well aware of the way other ponies see her, and yet, she’s done nothing to try and change it. Perhaps she thinks it’s too late?...
“But inside, I’ve been wondering if I’ve been wrong all this time, and if they, Filthy and Diamond Tiara, have been right. I love them, of course, both of them. I only want what’s best for our family, and I thought I knew what it was. I thought I did.”
She falls silent after this, still gazing down at the floor, and you can see a wavering glimmer in her eyes. You’re starting to feel moved to tears yourself. You never would’ve expected this kind of emotional depth, this level of complexity, in a pony as openly spiteful as Spoiled Rich. And yet, here was proof to shatter your expectations.
Here before you is a pony molded by strict and austere expectations, sent out into the world to live a certain way, to accomplish what her status mandated, and to distance herself emotionally from everypony else in the world, except those on her level.
Here, also, is a pony who’s scared and lonely on the inside, who knows no other way but that set before her by her family, who can’t even claim anypony as her friend, who wants to do right by the family she genuinely loves, but doesn’t know how.
“It’s not too late, Mrs. Rich,” you say, quietly.
She looks up slowly, meeting your gaze with hers, looking puzzled.
“I know it feels like you can’t go back and make a change, after everything you’ve done,” you say, “but it’s never too late to make amends.”
She continues to stare at you, a hint of doubt in her expression now. It doesn’t escape you.
“I’m not saying it’ll be easy,” you continue. “As you said, ponies have come to expect to see you a certain way, and changing it now might raise more than a few eyebrows. However, if you’re really serious about making an honest change in yourself, with time and effort, you can make it happen. I know at least one pony who didn’t think it was possible, and she’s living a much happier life than she used to after turning her way of thinking around.”
As you say this, you can’t help but wonder what Starlight would think hearing this, and if she might find a kind of kinship in a pony like Spoiled Rich. Then again, Spoiled hadn’t been ‘evil’ per se, as Starlight told you she herself had been, but it didn’t make what you’re saying any less true.
“If you feel unsure about it,” you say, “you can always talk to Princess Twilight. She is the Princess of Friendship, after all. I’m sure she and her friends would be more than happy to give you some guidance.”
You smile hopefully at her. She continues to stare up at you, the lingering doubt vanishing as she does so. Finally, she closes her eyes, sighs, then says,
“...I suppose you’re right. I’ve lived the way I have for so long. I don’t know if I can shake it off as easily as my little Diamond Tiara has...but I suppose it’s worth a try. I have her and Filthy in my life, so I could ask them as well. They know a lot more about dealing with ponies than I do.”
She laughs softly. It’s such a relief to see her gloom disappear that you can’t help but grin.
“Sounds like a plan,” you say, then you glance at the clock. “There’s still some time left in this session. I know you said you didn’t really want any affection therapy, and I won’t force you to change your mind, but I just thought I’d ask if there’s anything you’d like before the hour’s up.”
Spoiled looks at you, then looks away again, blushing.
“There is one thing…” she mutters. “I feel utterly embarrassed to ask of it now, after how I’ve behaved today.”
“What is it?” you ask.
Her blush deepens.
“...I wouldn’t mind...a hug.”
You blink.
That’s all she wants? A hug?
...Well, nothing wrong with that.
“Certainly,” you say, kindly.
You gently open your arms out to her. She looks at you uncertainly for a moment, then shifts closer, so that she’s right beside you. You put your arms around her, and pull her close. She doesn’t seem very willing at first, or, at the very least, she isn’t sure how to proceed. You can’t help but wonder if she’s ever received a hug before. Surely she must have, from her husband and daughter at least.
Eventually, you feel her relax, and she settles against you, resting her cheek against your chest. You don’t feel her hug you in return, but you weren’t really expecting her to. She seems to just want to be hugged, not hug in return. You don’t want to overwhelm her with any unnecessary pettings or anything extra. All she wanted was a hug, so she’s getting a hug. You look down at her, and see that her eyes are shut, and that her face has relaxed. She looks...contented, peaceful, as though a great weight has been lifted off of her shoulders. It’s the kind of expression you always tend to see in affection therapy patients, and it never ceases to melt your heart.
You hear the clock chime its five minute warning sometime later. Spoiled opens her eyes, and rather hurriedly straightens up. You release her, and she make a bit of a show of straightening her blouse and patting her mane. However, she can’t hide the effect the hug has had on her expression, which still looks more relaxed and complacent.
“I hope that hug was what you needed, Mrs. Rich,” you say.
“It...certainly was a new experience,” she says. “I’ve given hugs to Filthy and Diamond before, but...never with that much warmth. I had no idea...”
She genuinely seems at a loss. So it isn’t that she’s unfamiliar to hugs after all, just ones like yours. Still, it’s flattering to hear her actually compliment you like that, even in a roundabout way.
She holds out her hoof again. At first, you wonder if she wants to shake your hand. You grip it, and then all of a sudden, she hops down off the couch and trots toward the door.
You feel a little stunned, as well as annoyed. After all of that, after she poured her heart out and you had lent her an ear, after that hug, she wasn’t even going to say thank you? She couldn’t be relapsing already, could she?
She pauses at the door, turns to look at you, then says,
“I still think you have the potential to do more than, well, this, but if you’re making ponies happy...you must be doing something right.”
Then, to your inexpressible surprise, she smiles.
It’s a very small smile, but still a smile.
“Thank you.”
She doesn’t say it very loud. You see her lips form the words, and you barely hear them spoken, but there’s no mistaking it.
Then, she opens the door and takes her leave.
You sit there, absolutely bemused. Had that really just happened? Did you actually earn gratitude from Spoiled Rich?
That had to be some kind of an achievement.
You shake your head to clear away the stupefaction, allowing a smile back on your face. She may not have been very expressive about it openly, but you can tell that she genuinely does appreciate you taking the time to be patient with her attitude, and to give her advice on how to live the better way she wants to. If even a pony like Spoiled Rich wants to live their life for the better, then there can truly be no shortage of miracles in Equestria.
Three appointments into your first day, and so much has happened already, and there’s still two ponies left to see today before the day’s out.
And now for something a little different, lol
I actually had this in mind when I finished the last chapter, and it's something I've wanted to try for a while: what happens when a pony doesn't actually want affection therapy? At least, not at first, lol. Spoiled seemed like the proper option for such an idea, but I also wanted to add some depth to a pony who seemed so one-dimensional in the show proper. Hope you enjoy! 
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I didn't think anyone could make me feel sorry for
Pony KarenSpoiled Rich but here we are, damn - forget magical rainbow lasers, all we need are human hands in a pony world to solve all our problemsIs this based off of another story?
Achievement unlocked: Unbitchification!
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Well, I once read 'What Was My Name?' by Art de Triomphe, which cast Spoiled Rich in a more sympathetic light, and it got me thinking. I felt that, as divisive and antagonistic as she was in the show, even she must have some redeeming qualities, perhaps a difficult past that molded her into what she was, so I decided to see how it would work with affection therapy.
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if only this worked IRL
That... was unexpected. Both in who the next customer was, and how it ended. Fitting, though. Spoiled really is the kind of mare who needs a metaphorical whack across the back of her head to set her straight, and a little bit of guidance to put her back on the right track afterwards.
The start B:|
The end :)
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Hardly for the first time.
We never saw if Silver Spoon joined Diamond Tiara in becoming nicer or patched things up with her over their harsh words in Crusaders of the Last Mark. Perhaps she needs a chapter.
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ya i know,
Sometimes, it's not the message, it's the presentation you wrap it in.
Well dang! If he can turn Spoiled Rich to the good side, (a little, baby steps) I wonder if he could crack that black heart of Chrysalis too? Although I'd much rather Kevin gets a session. Poor guy was abandoned in Ponyville because he couldn't shapeshift and ponies are well known for having a huge soft spot for the downtrodden underdogs. Well, that and Kevin's relatively harmless compared to the trotting National disasters that live in Ponyville.
This was a fun chapter. After all the ire and everything she radiates, one would think Spoiled of all the ponies definitely needed to have a little arc, even in a fanfic to make her seem even somewhat redeemable.
Since you already got apple bloom, do sweetie belle and scootaloo.
*Yourself
This was a very sweet chapter. It gives me a newfound sympathy for the Karens of the world. I am curious about that voice in his head though. He should probably get that checked out.
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Hehe...sorry. Had no idea that it wasn't the first time, I swear.
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Actually, in the Pony I Want To Be reprise, we see Diamond patch things up with Silver, and in Season 6 episode 4, Diamond shares a pie she made with Silver and another filly.
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Sometimes, the slap on the back of the neck needs to be a tap.
I loved the other chapters before but this is a new high for me. I feared briefly that you would go the route many others go and make her out to be unredeemable and the downright evil like other authors do. I'm glad you didn't. One more reason I'm happy to have this story on my favourite-list. You are an amazing author.
Spoiled's attitude seemed to be derailing the session. I'm glad she finally gave in and he was able to help her. Thanks for the update.
He got Spoiled Rich to chill?
Cue the Chuck Norris jokes!
Loved this. You did a good job portraying this in a realistic approach. Hats off to ya!
Great chapter!
This was definately a mature approach to spoiled's problems, i know id let venom lace my tounge should an uppity asshole down talk me for doing something i enjoy, but you had the mc maintain the mature stance and even got the uptight lady to actually appreciate the therapy. Kudos on a great chapter
Loved the way she's portrait in the fic...always wondered what could be done for her for a character arch (of sorts lol)
It isn't that they're equal partners, but rather that they have a business to business relationship which is beneficial to both businesses. Rich gets the opportunity to sell quality Apple family products and the Apple family gets bits which they might not otherwise have by having a pony like Rich selling their products and advertising their products to ponies which might not either know about the Apple family products quality or had the opportunity to purchase the Apple family products for various reasons such as marketing presence or market distribution.
Because the difference between a follower and a friend is that a follower is not invested in you when hardships come. They are quick to judge and abandon those they follow when the hard times come. A friend is someone who loves you enough to support you through the hard times. Maybe it might not seem like much to the prestige-focused creature but sometimes just a gesture of solidarity and support can be the difference between success and failure in a creature's life. A true friend won't abandon you when the hard times come. They love you and are invested in you enough to see you through the hard times.
Did we just reform spoiled rich?