The sun shines as does most days, even if its cold on Tuesdays. On this one of many Thursdays, the sun’s rays shines through the haze. Aside from the bluejays, the sun disturbs one called Aria Blaze. Atop a chaise, she, in her laze and her muddy pjs, reaches for the buffets. Among the many foods she preys, Aria grabs and eats two parfaits.
“Aria Blaze,” The purple Siren shifts her gaze to Adagio Dazzle, holding a plate of her past entrees, “allow me to rephrase that I have just about enough of your laze. You need to get out and find a job that pays.”
“A job that pays?” Mutters Aria Blaze, “I’ve been looking for a job for days, and there isn’t one is even worth my praise.”
“Well, better to have praise than to keep me malaise.” Adagio reconveys, “Even Sonata does better working at six Subways.”
As Adagio leaves for yet another of her workdays, Aria Blaze grumbles, “I find a job that I can praise that earns more than what your job pays.”
With a grumble, Aria surveys through piles of dossiers. Any uninteresting job she tosses like filets. Unfortunately, the odds do the bad jobs outweighs; some of them required written essays.
“Don’t want to pick up trash on highways, never made bouquets,” A brow does Aria raise, “Who on earth hires fiances?”
Working at buffets? Making crochets? None seem to impress Aria Blaze. When all gone are the ways that pays, something catches her eye, and sets her heart ablaze. “House bunny needed” it says, continuing with, “must be able to work one hour on weekend days, twenty percent raise on holidays and bonuses on birthdays.” Now that is a job that pays, and only for a few hours throughout weekdays. And bonuses on birthdays? That’s something to keep her nagging sister away for days.
“Why not apply today?” Asks herself, Aria Blaze, “I’m quite a sight to gaze.”
Grabbing one of her resumes, the purple Siren starts up one of their chevrolets. She drove through highways, passed through midways, before taking a ramp through to one of the city’s many alleyways. Not roomy like Canterlot Highs parkways, Aria takes a gaze.
“Circe’s Photoplays?” Mutters Aria Blaze, “Better than cleaning fairways.”
Entering, Ms. Blaze found the place unlike any chalet she’s been many a yesterday. The smell does it’s horribleness betrays and the sight is one not to gaze; there is a horse in the corner that hardly neighs.
“Ah, hooray!” shouts a woman around her age, her hair white as a frappe, “What brings you here on this fine day?”
“Well,” Aria Blaze pulled a paper from her piles of resumes, “Just today I got a dossier. But what would a bunny do for a photoplay?”
“Oh, that was just a hearsay” Circe does say, “See it’s been many a day since someone came this way.”
Before another question comes out of Aria Blaze, a basset hound nips at her before it bays.
“Lace!” Circe shouts, kicking the dog in the face, before taking a dossier and one copy of Aria’s resumes. “Seriously, not the way to amaze. So, Aria Blaze…” She looks at the resume, “You seem to have been through a lot in your days.”
A statement that get a grumble from Aria Blaze. A brow does Circe not only raise, but also a smile, a sign of praise.
“Well, I’ve got nothing to say,” Circe stands up and walks to her buffet, “would you like to start today?”
“Well, to let me rephrase,” Aria’s hand does she raise, “let us start today of all the days.”
Joining hands the two once raise, a startling change happens to Aria Blaze. She became smaller than the decorating bouquets. A mirror does she gaze, an a scream does she raise. A rabbit; a phase that can bring some praise. Circe’s name does the Siren inveighs. But it doesn’t matter to her as she picks up Miss Blaze and drops her next to a steaming pot of meat glaze. Next to her are piles of carrots, spinach, and maize. Rabbit stew; truly, a rare delicacy these days.
This will not be for Aria Blaze, even if she tastes good with some glaze. As a pan does Circe sprays, With a swing and a few flays, the bunny Siren kicks the sorceress in the face. In this tiny phase, this was an accomplishment to amaze for the person named Aria Blaze. In the world of the old ways, she and her sisters were protoges to the world’s greatest sanseis. Heck, a few war plans gave them green berets. While a black eye does Circe gaze, Aria sticks a pin on her polonaise. After releasing the others in a difficult phase, she then tosses some cooking oil, setting the house ablaze.
Unable to drive one of her chevrolets, a long journey takes Aria Blaze through tunnels, streets, and alleyways. A shadow overlooms her, and shields her in the hottest of days. Her green shoes, blue dress, and Easter pink hair, she was the most unlikeliest face to gaze.
“Oh my,” Fluttershy kneels down, assuming the creature is one of the city strays, “I pity your lack of upraise. But a shelter do I have a place.”
With a good drive involving passing a few Hyundais, a pet store becomes pets home to amaze. But this is not so for Aria Blaze, and in so many ways that here predicament could phrase. In the future of all her days, children to take a gaze and zea mays do they feed Aria Blaze. Complaints she can’t raise, but there isn’t any option that she conveighs. But as her mind conveighs, numerous advantages brings to Aria Blaze. This occupation doesn’t pays, but at least she is getting her praise. And without the terror she and her sister does raise. And so in the hay she lays, from now and beyond her birthdays.
Thus commences the bunny phase of Aria Blaze. At least... until the evidence weighs.