Daring Do and the Compact of Doom
by Present Perfect
The call had come in: The dreaded tomb robber Ahuizotl, scourge of seven jungles and at least one desert, had his greedy eyes set on yet another priceless artifact. The only one who can stop him?
DARING DO! Mistress of adventure, scholar extraordinaire, the truest protector of Equestria's greatest long-buried treasures!
"Understood, Professor," she said, slamming the phone down. The time for words was over; she would heed the call, leaping into action!
By day, her colleagues knew her as mild-mannered history teacher -- and sometimes author -- A. K. Yearling, and her office reflected the expectations of such. But with the press of a secret switch inside her desk, her most needed accessories sprang from various hidden locations as she rushed for the door. Her trusty satchel fell across her shoulder! Her whip rocketed into her hand! Her ever-faithful pith helmet landed on her head!
And last, but not least, a vanity rose from the floor, complete with everything a young woman needs to look her best when she's about to delve trackless jungles in search of treasure!
"That's right!" Daring said, reaching for the eyeshadow. "I never forget to use Haybelline cosmetics to keep myself looking sharp right before I go on an adventure!"
She began applying various products to her face while talking about them.
"Not only do they carry a quality line of eyeliners, mascara, and foundation, they also have up-to-date fashion trends and tips you can access on their website!" She smiled wide, holding up a cell phone. It wasn't hers.
"But do you know my favorite kind of makeup?" she asked, her voice growing husky. She pulled out a tube of lipstick, cotton candy pink, and pushed the tip up close to her face. "Lipstick." She began applying the cosmetic to her lips, drawing across their surface, and then around and around her mouth, wider and wider with each pass.
"More lipstick!" she shouted. Careless Whisper started playing in the background. "GOD I JUST LOVE LIPSTICK SO MUCH!" She stuck her tongue out, drawing the glossy metal case of the tube along it and fluttering her eyelashes seductively.
On cue, the audio clip featuring the brand's slogan -- "Hay, bee, she's horse with it! Hay, bee, it's Haybelline!" -- played.
"Cut, cut, goddammit, cut!" shouted the director. "I want that sound guy fired, now!"
Daring relaxed, dropping the lipstick and scowling at him.
"Miss Do," he groaned, "for the last time, this is a commercial to sell cosmetics to young girls. It is not a porno." He twisted around in his tiny chair, shouting into his megaphone. "Is that sound guy fired yet? He's not getting hired in advertising if I have anything to say about it!"
"What this is," Daring said, crossing her arms and glowering at the director, "is bullshit. I don't wear makeup when adventuring! That's completely ludicrous!"
"Miss Do." The director folded his hands across his ponderous girth, fixing her with the calmest stare he could muster in the situation. "Let me lay out the situation for you:
"You came to us for extra money because you are broke."
Daring rolled her eyes. "I'm just between treasure hunts is all."
"You agreed to appear in a series of commercials to sell Haybelline's products."
"Which I don't use."
"And!" The director stuck a finger in the air. "I have a somewhat lucrative contract, signed by you, I should add, stating that you will do these things, and in doing so, profit from the increased sales your image will lend to the brand."
"You're just trying to profit off my name by making me do stupid shit." Daring shook her head, tossing the fake whip and satchel to the ground. "You know what? Screw this. You can shove your crummy contract where the sun don't shine! I'd rather fling myself into a volcano than deal with this-- this completely ludicrous sham any longer! I quit!"
She stomped off the set as the crew looked on, helpless. The director merely drummed his fingers on the arm of his chair.
"Is she gone?" one of the boom operators asked.
"Yes," said the director, his voice lowering in pitch. A mechanical arm reached from behind the chair and gripped the top of his head. It yanked on his hair, pulling the fat director's mask off his head and revealing the face of none other than Ahuizotl himself.
"I'll get you next time, Daring Do," he growled, his third arm tossing the mask into the wastebasket. He slammed his fist down so hard on the chair arm that the whole thing was rent to splinters.
"All right," he shouted, "pack it up! We will have to enact our revenge on Daring Do in some other preposterous way. And fire our sound guy already! I never liked him."