Rainbow Dash couldn’t believe she was talked into this. She was in Rarity’s boutique, getting a makeover, for Pete’s sake! Rarity had dressed the speedster up in a three foot high powdered wig, and decorated the rest of her body with bows and frills. Dash felt like a Hearth’s Warming tree.
“Stay still, Darling!” Rarity reminded the daredevil for the millionth time. “This is just the finishing touches.”
“You said that you were putting on the ‘finishing touches’ an hour ago!” complained Rainbow Dash. “When are you going to finally be done?”
“Perfection takes time,” said Rarity. “There’s no need to rush, Celestia won’t be here until tomorrow anyway. Besides, it was your idea to ‘look awesome’ for the Princess, was it not? No offense dear, but you don’t even own so much as a brush, and that’s why you came to me.”
Unable to come up with a decent comeback, Rainbow Dash just sulked. She needed to fly, and soon. She knew she could have just left the outfit at Carousel Boutique to take her wings for a quick spin, but she knew that Rarity never took her measurements yet, and that was because the fashionista had the compulsion to adjust everything until she found the combination of fabrics and design that suited her tastes precisely. This was a complete pain for Dash, as she was always one for impulsive decisions, and sticking with them.
Just to make things worse, Dusk Shine entered the room and saw Dash in all her fabulousity.
“Wow, Dash,” Dusk said, snorting a chortle. “I never figured you for such a girly-girl.”
“I-it’s not what you think!” claimed the cyan mare. “I’m not lame!”
“Relax, it was just a friendly joke,” said Dusk. “I didn’t mean to stifle your ego. Trust me, I know Rarity can be more convincing than anypony.”
“What is that supposed mean?” Rarity said, raising an eyebrow. If there was any sign that she was offended, she didn’t show it.
“Well, for one thing, I can see that you put Dash up to it, or that you tricked her into thinking powdered wigs are back in style.”
“They aren’t?” said a surprised Rainbow Dash.
“Nope,” said Dusk. “Haven’t been in fashion since Chancellor Puddinghead’s time.”
Rainbow stomped her hooves in frustration. “Dammit, Rarity! You told me that they were the next big thing!”
“I confess that I lied to you, Rainbow,” Rarity said with a serene tranquility. “But it was under the best intentions, not some foolish prank like you and Pinkie Pie like to pull. You see, that wig is actually my trusty magical mane styler, designed to make anypony fabulous.”
Dusk cocked his head. “Really?”
“Oh, yes,” Rarity said proudly. “It’s imported. Why do you think the ‘wig’ isn’t all hair? And the outfit? You’re really not going to wear it. I just made you sit still for a few hours for the machine to do its work. And our hard-earned efforts should be rewarded right... about... now!” She removed the ‘wig’ from Rainbow Dash’s head in a dramatic motion.
Dusk beheld Dash’s new look. “Um... wow... it looks... nice.”
Rainbow Dash was too busy scrambling to get out of the fake dress, tearing it to shreds. “Ha! Take that, dumb fabric!” After she finished taking her clothes off, she finally noticed Dusk’s reaction. “Uhh, Rarity? Why is Dusk looking at me like that?”
“Why, it must be because you look simply fabio!” Rarity exclaimed, admiring her work. “I do believe you could make an excellent model with that new manecut! In fact, I think you could make a solid living just by dressing in style.”
“Mirror,” Dash said simply, ignoring her friend’s claims. She had a bad feeling about this, and she needed to see for herself.
“Pardon?”
“Get. Me. A. Mirror.”
Rarity let out a sigh, knowing that Rainbow Dash would hate what the white unicorn had done to her mane, no matter how beautiful Rarity thought it looked. Regretfully, she levitated a hand mirror to the daredevil’s face.
Her reaction was both immediate and grotesque. “Oh, you’ve gotta be KIDDING ME!”
Rarity rolled her eyes. Some ponies simply had no taste at all.
“Is this supposed to be some kind of sick joke?” said Dash.
“No,” said Rarity. “In fact, I think your mane color suits the La Fabuleuse et Courtoisie Branchée look rather well, yes? You’ll be the toast of the banquet!”
“What I’ll be is a laughingstock! I’m YOU, for Faust’s sake!” screamed Rainbow Dash. “Change it back, right now!”
“I’m afraid I couldn't even do that if I wanted to Darling,” said the marshmallow, showing sympathy for her friend’s dissatisfaction. “It’s maintained by a magical enchantment that keeps it from getting ruined. How do you think I waltz around Ponyville without having to brush my mane every few minutes? I’m sorry, but the guarantee on the box says you’ll be looking like me for a three day minimum.”
“We’ll see about that!” said the glamorous-looking speed demon. She picked the nearest hairbrush and tried to comb in every direction she thought possible, but it bounced off her mane as if it was not made of hair follicles, but solid adamantium. Eventually, the brush broke in two when Rainbow Dash applied too much pressure.
“NNNNNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” she cried out in despair. “I can’t go out in public looking like this! Why, Rarity? Why have you forsaken me?”
“I just thought it would look good on you,” Rarity said. “And besides, you’re my friend, remember? This was for the Princess, and I wanted for you to impress her! I was even going to put my mane-styler on another function and use it on myself in order for us to not go to the same party wearing the same design. In MY point of view, this is the nicest thing I’ve ever done for you!”
“YOU’VE PUT ME IN MY OWN PERSONAL TARTARUS!”
“Girls!” Dusk Shine interrupted, quieting both of them. “I think this is getting a little out of control. Both sides have their solid reasons for acting this way, but I think we’re both to blame. Rainbow Dash, I know you hate that makeover with every fiber of your being and a burning intensity, but as Rarity pointed out, she gave you it with the best intentions. Rarity, as Rainbow Dash’s friend, you should have known that Dash would react this way if you tricked her into a new manecut.”
There was a grumble of mutual agreement.
My name is Mr. Munchies 3.5. My belch-sire, Mr. Munchies 2.5, gave me life in somepony’s mane, along with my sibling, Mr. Munchies 3.6. The pony is male, and his messy purple hair obscures my vision.
I fly out, with my companions, searching for food. The buzz feels good. A portion of the Snack takes the form of a bowl of cat food on the floor.
“Oh, and what are these lovely creatures, Darling?” a white pony says. I ignore her, focusing only on the snack.
OM NOM NOM NOM NOM NOM!
“Oh, and such hungry things they are! I hope Opalescence doesn’t mind them feeding a bit.”
What’s an Opalescence? Can you eat it?
A cat pounces out of the shadows onto me. Its claws dig past through my exoskeleton, and I squeal in pain. It hisses at me, pure evil in its eyes. In all the collective memories of my belch-sires past, nothing has ever fought so fiercely, nor has been so cruel and heartless.
“Opal, no!” the white pony says sternly. “Those are our guests, not chew toys.”
With clear resentment to its master, ‘Opal’ let me go. I owe this pony my life! I buzz to celebrate being alive. The buzz feels good.
“Sorry about that,” my previous caretaker says. “Fluttershy found them on the edge on the Everfree Forest and gave me one, but these two seem to have popped out of nowhere.”
“I’ll take one,” my savior says eagerly. Opalescence seems displeased at this. Screw Opalescence! Let her rot in the pits of Tartarus!
“What about you, Rainbow Dash?” said Dusk. “You want the other spare?”
“Some unknown alien-like thing that lives in the Everfree, is pocket-sized, but survived long enough to reproduce?” Rainbow Dash said. “Sounds totally bad-flank! Count me in.”
“Good, because this yellow one seems to like you,” Dusk observed as a parasprite buzzed over to Dash.
“Actually Dusk, this one is sunflower, not yellow,” Dash corrected. “The difference is in the tinge and shade, much like many of the summer colors introduced in Hoity Toity’s new fashion line in the brand-new Canterlot Weekly.” She blinked and shook her head violently, disturbed at what had just come out of her mouth. How in the hoof did she know that? There was only one reasonable explanation for this.
“Oh, no!” she gasped in horror. “This mane isn’t just making me look like Rarity, it’s turning me into Rarity! This is bad! No, this is worse than bad! Of all the worst things that could happen, this is the WORST. POSSBLE. THI-*meep!*” She cut herself off by clasping a hoof over her mouth, blushing redder than a sunburned fire truck while her eyes turning into pinpricks. A sense of impending doom and a gut-churning passion for fashion washed over her.
She raced out the door, taking her new pet with her. “I g-gotta go! If anypony needs me, I’ll be at my house, watching my collection of reruns of my favorite Wonderbolt shows, along with a marathon of the two Expendables movies. I need to commune with my inner Dash before this mane takes over my life!” With a rainbow-colored blur, she was gone.
When Dash was finally out of sight, Dusk Shine turned to Rarity. “There’s a quick and easy way to undo the mane-enchantment, isn’t there?”
“It’s dispelled with cold water,” Rarity confessed. “How did you know?”
Because I tend to... pay attention to you when you get your mane wet, thought Dusk silently. He didn’t say it, but then again, he probably didn’t need to. Instead, he asked another question.
“Why didn’t you say something?”
“Why didn’t you?” defended Rarity. “Or didn’t you think you could resist poor little Dashie with her mane soaked?” Besides, she thought, Nopony sleeps with you behind my flank and gets away with it.
Just then, Pinkie Pie burst into Carousel Boutique, pulling a red wagon. So far, she had collected a paddleball, a noisemaker, some fuzzy dice, along with the bowling ball and crowbar she mentioned earlier.
“Hi, Dusky! Do you know where I can find a stereo?” the party pony said.
“Uhh... Scratch’s Vinyl Emporium, down the street,” Dusk said hesitantly. “Why?”
“No reason, but it’ll go great with the tennis rackets Mister Ace promised me!” said Pinkie with a grin.
“Pinkie, are you trying to invent a new type of partying again?” asked Rarity. “Because last time, Gummy was put on trial for arson...”
“IknowIknowIknow!” reassured Pinkie. “But this is entirely different, plus this time around, I’ve made sure that the Ninja Mafia is not involved in any possible way.”
“Then what ARE you planning?” Dusk said.
“I don’t know yet,” Pinkie shrugged.
“You don’t know yet?”
“Yeah! It’s still in the brainstorming period, but I’m sure it’ll send a message. In a world of ripoffs and fanfics, I shall be the defiant voice of originality for fictional characters everywhere!”
[You’re doing it again.]
Sorry, I got carried away.
“Well, make sure you don’t let things spiral out of control, okay?” Dusk cautioned. “The Princess will be here tomorrow, and I don’t want her to come to a Ponyville ruined overnight”
“No need to fear!” saluted Pinkie. “The parasprites will do that for you anyway.”
“Wait, what?”
*WHACK!*
“Stop doing that!”
After Pinkie ran off to ‘find exactly 4.78 gallons of soup,’ Dusk Shine finished his checklist of the things he need to oversee before Celestia arrived. (Somehow, this included complementing Bon-bon on how she watered her flowers. Do not ask me why.) Satisfied, he returned to Books and Branches.
“Dusk, you’re back!” exclaimed Spike. “Can you help us clean up now, since you left me to clean up the library when you got home?”
“Couldn’t Trixie help you?” asked Dusk curiously.
“I tried to talk her into it,” explained his surrogate brother, “But she said she needed to change in time for when you got home.”
“Change? Why would she need to get changed for-”
Trixie burst open the door triumphantly. She was wearing a classic Prench maid outfit, complete with feather duster and headdress. It was black, skimpy, and the skirt was short enough to directly show her plot. A look of pride was shown on her face, not to mention some heavy makeup.
“Great and Powerful Trixie is ready to start cleaning, dragon-slave of Master Dusk!” she said with all the gusto she put into her usual performance. “And when the Master comes home, he will be unable to resist the charms of-GAH!!!!!” It was then she noticed that Dusk was already here, and he was in complete bewilderment. “D-d-dusk! When did you get here? You’re not supposed to be home for another hour!”
The library was in complete silence. Dusk looked confused beyond belief. Spike looked annoyed that he had to do all the work by himself for this. Trixie looked like she was going to die of embarrassment.
“...’Master Dusk,’ huh?” Spike said suggestively.
“I-i-it’s not what you think!” the blue unicorn protested, her cheeks. “Trixie was only trying to set the mood!” She paused for a second. “...For cleaning. Trixie was setting the mood for cleaning.”
My name is Mr. Munchies 2.5. Today, I have given life to two new parasprites, and unleashed them in a fashion store. With an incredible stroke of luck, I have beared two more children of Chaos since then. They are famished, and so am I. We fly out of our caretaker’s mane in search of the Snack. The buzz feels good.
“Hey, what’s that?”
A dragon is among us, but it’s just a hatchling. The buzz feels good. Through the collective memories of my belch-sires, I know that young dragons eat gemstones, but as their greed increases as they mature, they change their diet to meat, and they just keep jewels around to fill their hoard.
“Well, what’s your name, little guy?” He extends a claw, and I use it to perch. I nuzzle him with affection. According to the memories of Mr. Munchies the 1st, acting cute gets you a large heap of the Snack.
I look toward my fellow parasprites. One flies over to a maid, while the other appeals to the original caretaker. This is good. We will feed soon.
“Are you hungry, buddy?”