//------------------------------//
// Hair of the Sir 
// Story: A Canterlot Gala 
// by Gold Meddle 
//------------------------------//

Preparations all done, Chrysalis returned to where she left her date, finding her with a glass of wine that had long lost its sparkle. "Miss Rarity?"

Her makeup was running thin. "Just when I thought you'd abandoned me."

"I admit I've been far from a perfect prince. I could spin you a sob story about my struggles with...self image, but you deserve better than petty excuses."

"I wouldn't make light of such issues, I've seen many ponies torn apart by them."

"Enough about me, what are you doing all alone? I thought you'd be with your friends."

Sighing, Rarity looked up at the ceiling. "They split into two groups. I'd feel like a third--or, rather, fourth wheel going with either."

"Would you like to visit the royal barber's? I know you've not given up on me, and anyway, he's not in at the moment, but his tools are. The gem-studded scissors are something to behold."

==========

The hair bin, like everything in the castle, was exceedingly ornate. Its sheer size likely inspired the myth of Celestia's beard.

Thankfully, its sturdy wheels made moving it easy, even for a dainty maid. Slowing to a stop, she looked around before sneaking a peek inside it.

She snorted. "Talk about a hairy situation."

==========

"You do the Pony Pokey and that's what it's all about!"

"Nope," remarked Applejack.

Pinkie deflated. "Aw, I was sure that would work!"

Dash placed her forehooves over her face. "I'll never get closer to the Wonderbolts."

"Cheer up, Dashie! We'll get you a one-on-one as easy as one-two-three!"

"I'm not much for mathematics, but even I can see we're already in the triple digits," griped Applejack. "Sorry, sugarcube."

"No, I'm sorry for being such a downer. This isn't bad. Better than being jailed, that's for sure. You two can go, I'll just hang out here."

Lacking any more platitudes, the two left Dash to her pining. She did mingle with the Wonderbolts once, after saving their lives--but at the time, they were still nursing a few concussions, generously given by Rarity.

A most familiar voice tore her out of her reminiscing. "I knew you'd be here."

She didn't look. "Where else would I be? I came here to be with the Wonderbolts, so until you kick me out, I'll stay."

"I have no intention of getting in your way. I came here to apologize."

Now she did. "I...appreciate it, but it's not gonna get me closer to the Wonderbolts."

"I fear nothing will."

"Jee, thanks."

Chrysalis looked at her quizzically. "Miss Dash, surely you understand the importance of image?"

"I guess?" She puffed out her chest half-heartedly. "I always make sure to show off my skills."

"Maintaining an image is more than just showing off. It's about knowing what to reveal, and what to conceal."

"And what does that have to do with me getting to the Wonderbolts?"

"Suppose that they ignored your impudence. What message would that send? They'd be tacitly approving your hooliganism."

"So they won't." She groaned. "Way to rub it in."

"Now, supposing a private meeting was arranged..." she paused, meeting Dash's wide eyes. "I did say I was sorry, didn't I?"

==========

"Sorry!"

"Excuse me!"

"Coming through!"

And other such exclamations came from the two servants carrying a large duffoal bag through the packed halls.

"This is back-breaking work."

"It won't be your back broken if you drop it."