Rarity Pays For Burritos

by Soufriere


Human Nature

Looking up at the night sky, one can, if lucky and in a proper viewing place, see a glorious expanse of a blob of light, stretching from one end of the horizon to the other. It is the edge of the disc of our own galaxy. Millions upon millions of stars within just that bit, which is merely a fraction of one single galaxy in a universe of millions more. A universe which, incidentally, is expanding outward at a speed that should not be theoretically possible, yet is because quantum physics. In the end, it will tear itself apart as the final suns reach the ends of their natural lifespans and die out, the small ones fading and the large ones collapsing into black holes.

Reversion to entropy might be fun to look at through a spectroscope, but not to live in. Of course, we probably wouldn’t even notice if we get reduced to our component molecules (or atoms or even quarks), so what’s the point of even thinking about it?

In this near-infinite expanse of universe, the idea that our planet, stuck as it is on an outer spiral arm of a single unimpressive galaxy, is the only one to have ever brought forth sapient life, is absolutely ludicrous. Indeed, it is impossible. After all, there is a planet – my former home – where the highest form of life is equine. Is that planet within this universe or in a parallel dimension accessible through some quirk of quantum theory – wormholes or some other sci-fi nonsense? How does that magic mirror actually work? Does it ultimately matter?

More importantly, is it possible to even have such a conversation when one is laying on one’s back on the roof of one’s apartment building in the middle of downtown, surrounded by light pollution so egregious that one can barely even see the moon? (in this world, sans horse-head). At least this area, protected as it is by a stable atmosphere and magnetosphere, is currently enveloped in the subtle warmth of Spring. No need to bundle u—

“Sunset, dear. What are you doing?” Rarity asked, jogging her friend out of her stupor, her lily-white skin reflecting enough ambient light it almost served as a second moon, framed by the purple aura that was her elegantly styled hair. “You know it’s bad for your clothes to lay on tar-paper.”

“Oh. Right,” Sunset Shimmer said as she slowly rose to her feet. “Sorry.”

“You promised to introduce me to a restaurant I’ve not yet tried. It’s getting late and I’d rather arrive there before it closes.”

“Of course, of course,” Sunset said, more to herself than Rarity, as she brushed the dust off her clothes. “Come on, it’s only a few blocks away.”

“So. What’s this eatery called?”

“Uh…” Sunset hesitated, knowing her best friend’s appreciation for the finer things in life, “Big Beulah’s Burrito Barn.”

Rarity’s eyes went wide, partly with shock but mostly with incredulity. “You wish for us to partake of… burritos?” she sounded out the last word as if it was utterly foreign to her. Certainly the real thing would be foreign to a girl whose only experience with them amounted to the soggy flavourless monstrosities served at the school cafeteria.

“What? Are you too White for ‘em?” Sunset asked with a sassy smirk.

Rarity made a pouty-face that caused Sunset to do something she had not attempted in months – she laughed. It was an awkward action, which Rarity herself found oddly contagious.

“O-of course not, dear. Let’s go!” Rarity said as she grabbed Sunset by the hand and made their way down the five flights of stairs and out of Sunset’s apartment building.

“Uh, Rarity?” Sunset asked once the two were at street level, “You’ve never been downtown on foot at night (that time you stole my moped notwithstanding). Do you even know where you’re going?”

Rarity stopped in her tracks, letting go of Sunset’s hand. “Oh. Right. Lead on, then, darling!” she pointed dramatically… in the wrong direction.

Sunset facepalmed as she took Rarity by the wrist. All the better to keep the girl out of trouble.


Looking up at the night sky, clear for once of clouds. Unfortunately, it is also mostly clear of stars thanks to our being in the middle of a city. What few one can see twinkle in the great expanse of deepest blue. Certainly bluer than any dress ever sold. That clump of stars looks like a man with an arrow. That one looks like a horsey. My best friend says she used to be a horse, but I find that difficult, nay, impossible to believe without witnessing it myself.

The sidewalks downtown are certainly in need of upkeep. Any girl in heels runs a serious risk of tripping and falling flat on her face if she steps wrong. So, slow going is the norm. If life is a runway, then this one could certainly use resurfacing. Maybe some track lighting. In the dim light provided by the street lamps placed every ten feet or so – most of them working – one sees the outlines and colours of the many old buildings, their red or yellow bricks dulled by years of icky smoke from cars, age having chipped away many of the sharper edges. Someone really should clean these places; it would probably lure more fashionable businesses to set up shop here.

As it is, this journey turns onto one of the main avenues, the never-ending buzz of traffic almost drowned out by the relentless thumping of a live music club. Not a high-end one, mind, as it lacks velvet ropes and one of those scary bouncers who only let in people who look sufficiently classy – not a problem for me, but…

The club’s neon sign mesmerizes me. Purple block letters against an inky black background. So my colour. I imagine a tiny version of myself dancing amongst the light, twirling in thrall to the gigantic crowd below. Bored with one letter, I hop to another and then another before ending my routine on the full-stop that the club’s logo saw fit to include for some reason. For tiny me, it is not unlike a miniature moon. That it could only fly me to the real one so that I might play amongst the stars.

A hand on my shoulder brings me back to reality, before pointing to the much less handsome single-story building next door. It seems to be moderately busy, but not absolutely ‘slammed’, as the rabble would say.

“Here we are,” Sunset said.

Rarity tried her best to not look disappointed. “Here?”

“Trust me, the food is much better than the decor,” Sunset said almost apologetically, “Uh, you have money, right?”

Rarity narrowed her eyes. “You’re taking me to a new restaurant and you expect me to pay?!”

Sunset waved her arms in apology. “I’m sorry! I just started working again and Canterville Underground Weekly Daily has yet to auto-deposit my paycheck (wouldn’t be the first time). It’s the downside of being a freelancer, y’know? Besides, this is the only night you have free, right?”

Rarity sighed. “I guess I can appreciate that.”


Compared to the usual afternoon crowd, Big Beulah’s Burrito Barn sported a noticeably different clientele at night – much older due to the lack of the early bird and student discounts, yet hungrier if the massive bowls of taco salad at several of the tables were any indication, and also significantly drunker. Rarity sniffed the air disapprovingly.

“Yeah, Beulah recently got a license to sell beer by the can or bottle,” Sunset said. “It should be fine, though. They know me here.”

As Rarity looked up at the menu placed above the assembly line, Sunset walked up to a large imposing woman in a black apron standing behind the “Order Here” sign. She frowned slightly at Sunset, clearly less than pleased to see her.

“I ain’t doin’ freebies tonight. Ya got money, Sunny?” the woman asked in a fittingly husky voice.

She does,” Sunset gestured over to Rarity, then lowered her voice. “It’s her first time here, Beulah, so could you at least try to not drive her away?”

Beulah allowed herself to flash a smile as she turned to her new mark. “Welcome to the Burrito Barn, miss. What can I get for ya tonight?”

“Huh?” Rarity asked, startled out of her concentration. “Oh, you mean me. Well, uh, I think… uh… Sunset, what are you going to have?”

“Probably the same thing she always gets,” said Beulah. She and Sunset gave the order in unison, as if this was a well-rehearsed ritual. “Veggie burrito on a spinach tortilla. Refried beans, rice, grilled peppers & onions, queso, mild salsa, sour cream, all the veg except jalapeños, and Absolutely. No. Meat.”

Rarity suddenly looked worried. “Oh. Dear.”

“What’s the matter?” asked Sunset, genuinely concerned.

Rarity did her best to hide a blush (not easy with her bone-white skin). “Well, I saw that ‘Giant Burrito’ there on the menu, which is less expensive than two burritos and… I thought we could divide it in half and share it. But, I forgot you’re a vegetarian and I… really wanted meat. And I don’t like peppers.”

“Hey, don’t worry about it,” Sunset said. “Friends don’t have to like the same things, right?”

“I suppose not. And the price difference isn’t that much,” admitted Rarity. As the weedy man along the line, Beulah’s husband, began to prepare Sunset’s meal, Rarity made her order: ground beef on wheat tortilla, rice, but no beans for she considered such a thing unbecoming of a lady.

While a tall, friendly looking fellow in a dashiki made Rarity’s order, Beulah leaned over to Sunset as much as her girth and the trays of ingredients in between them would allow.

“So, you ain’t been around in a while. I wondered if I finally drove you off,” she said. “Business has been slow since poor Mister Orangeglow died here a couple weeks back. Wasn’t my fault, I swear! But it still scared people.”

“Nah,” Sunset replied. “I was just… sick… for a long time. I think I’m getting better now.”

“Good enough to be on a hot date, it seems,” Beulah said with a wink. Rarity, overhearing, turned her head so neither of them could see her expression.

“What?!” Sunset stage-whispered. “No! Rarity’s my best friend. You know I don’t swing that way… or possibly any way.”

“Well, whatever,” said Beulah before turning to Rarity to tell her the cost. Rarity briefly wore a look of annoyance before realizing it was about half what she would have paid at a fancier place of her own choosing. She paid without complaint, as Sunset grabbed the paper cups to get their drinks – unsweet iced tea for herself and a diet cola for Rarity.

“So, where shall we sit?” asked Rarity.

“Well, it looks like there’s a window booth open for once. If you’re lucky enough to get one, it’s fun to sit and people-watch. Now that that nightclub has opened up nearby, observation is much more… interesting.” Sunset said.

As the girls made their way past the several occupied tables between them and their target, Sunset felt a hand grope her rear. It belonged to a burly green fellow with scruffy brown hair and green-rimmed glasses, his cheeks flushed from at least six cans of beer.

“Been awhile, Sunset,” said the man as best he could. “You only send in your work by email nowadays. You never come into the office anymore. I miss you.”

This is why I don’t drop in anymore, Forrester. You get so annoying when you’re drunk, which is… pretty much always. I told you before: NO,” Sunset snipped. “I don’t care how much more you offer to pay me; I don’t care if you want to hire me full-time. I’m fine where I am and with what I’m doing. Besides, do I need to have a talk with our publisher again?”

“Fine, fine,” Forrester said. “But what about that fine piece of tail with ya?” He motioned over to Rarity, whose expression was darkening by the second. “I heard you say she isn’t your date? Coulda fooled me. Maybe she’d be interested in a little… internship?”

Sunset scoffed. “Forget it, Forrester. She’s underage. Of course if you want to go to jail… again… this time for a real crime… then by all means proposition her.”

“Excuse me, Sunset, darling,” Rarity piped in. “I believe I can handle it from here.”

“Okay,” Sunset said as she shrugged and backed away as Rarity approached Forrester, who glared at the young girl through his glassed-over eyes.

“I’ll have you know,” Rarity said, “that I am not a piece of meat to be ogled at the slightest provocation. I am not interested in anything you will ever have to offer. And also,” she slammed her right heel into Forrester’s sandal-clad left foot to the point Sunset could swear she heard something snap, “I can take care of myself.”

Forrester screamed in obvious pain, causing the dozen or so other people in the Burrito Barn to turn their heads. Sunset instinctively held up her hands, her nonverbal way of insisting this time it was not her fault.

“Now,” Rarity said to Forrester, “I take it you’re the one who signs Sunset’s paychecks? Yes? Well, we expect it auto-deposited by closing time tomorrow, or a physical check in her mailbox within forty-eight hours. Do you understand me? If not, well, I’m quite well versed in stilettos.”

Forrester muttered a curse under his breath, causing Rarity to turn back towards him, pointing an accusatory finger in his face.

I wasn’t the one who tried to pick up a high school girl less than half your age. Now, if you’ll excuse us, we’d like to eat these burritos before they get cold. Come along, Sunset, dear,” said Rarity with an air of finality.

Sunset briefly regarded Forrester with a worried expression, but figured she could work on saving her job later. After all, she had a friend with whom she was eager to share a meal.

They slid into their respective sides of the window-side booth. Sunset ignored her food and stared out the large window looking onto the street, now becoming busy with the night time crowd.

“Like I said, sometimes it’s interesting to just watch silly people run about. Everyone you see is full of life.” she said.

Rarity nodded. Then she noticed what she thought were two familiar figures walking by, one a tall boy with short spiky blue hair – clearly Sunset’s ex-boyfriend Flash Sentry – and the other a girl with dull purple skin and grey hair cut severely, both carrying musical equipment, probably to the nearby club.

“Isn’t that…?” Rarity asked.

“Yes. And he’s with Pinkie’s older sister. So?”

“You’re not upset?”

“Why would I be?” asked Sunset. “I’m actually glad the lug seems to be able to finally move on from me. I’ve got my own issues to work through.”

“Well, I would be honoured to s—” Rarity’s speech cut off as she saw Forrester through the window pane, limping heavily. Their eyes met. Without hesitation, Rarity stuck her tongue out at him until he shuffled away, confused.

She turned back to see Sunset sporting an expression she had never seen before; apparently a cross between befuddlement and trying to suppress a belly-laugh.

“What?” Rarity asked.