As told from the view of Hoity Toity.
Photo Finish was on the phone, ordering our dinner. We were NOT on a date. I couldn’t go home. It was HER fault, not mine. She made me pass out three times-which wasted much of the night-that it was too late to walk home. Besides, I was covered in bruises. How could I make such a long journey anyway?
“I ordered some Canterlot-Tidbits. Do you like zhose?” Photo asked. Canterlot-Tidbits? What are those?
“I suppose I’ve heard of them before,” I replied stiffly. Photo gave me a “Really?” look and walked off.
I sighed, relieved that she didn’t ask more, and painfully sat. No, actually, those bruises didn’t hurt much. It was just… a habit of mine… that I learned when I realized the Canterlot ponies wouldn’t pay any attention to you if you didn’t exaggerate everything which could be pitiful. I think Photo had that habit too. Suddenly, I remembered something… something which Photo Finish definitely did NOT take care of.
Photo was speechless. “But-but I-I-oh, yes. I remember now. I-uh-knocked it ovv vhen I-uh… punched you.” She looked at the ground with her eyes, her head still up of course, her signature shades taken off, shuffling her fore-arms everywhere.
“You knocked it OFF?! Those were-those were the most expensive pair I had! The brand embossed on the narrow sides! Charlie and Kneith!!!” I yelled. I was angry, so, so angry. And “angry” wasn’t enough! “When you knocked it off,” I continued, a bit calmer this time, “did they-did they… break?” I asked her fearfully.
“Vell, I uh, I-didn’t see.”
“I’m going back over there.” I couldn’t stand her anymore. I made a move, and got out of the mansion. My skin was clearly blue-black all over, but I didn’t care. Those shades were worth more than a few bruises.
I was back. Back at that same old building. And there they were. My beautiful shades. Lying there, on the dirty ground. Not broken at least, but scratched. I'm gonna kill that sky-blue pony! A scratch, a horrible scratch, on these beautiful… Slowly, manly tears seeped into my eyes. But, with a wave of my hoof, they were gone. I must have revenge!
When I was back in Photo’s mansion, I gently, lovingly laid my shades on the velvet sofa, and crept upstairs. Fortunately for me, Photo was in the bath. I quickly tiptoed to her room, picked up her own sunglasses, and flung them onto the ground. There, I wickedly smiled. Scratched those sunglasses were, almost as scratched as mine. I put them back on her bed, trotted back downstairs, frantically searched for a satin piece of cloth and some cleaning alcohol-which I found in a drawer labeled “SHADES”-cleaned my shades, returned the things back to the drawer, and laid my own sunglasses on the dining-table, clearly in sight.
DING-DONG! I jumped. The noise frightened me half to death. Oh, the "Canterlot-Tidbits". I quickly set my shades on my nose, lifted my head high, and daintily walked to the door.
“You ordered this ma-aahhhh-sir.” A brown pony hurriedly said. He passed the flat box to me and hurried off, getting comfortable on a scooter along with many other boxes and raced away.
I stared at the box I was gripping in my hooves. “Canterlot Specialties” it said. Since I had no idea what “Canterlot Specialties” was, I just carefully shrugged, bit the box, hurriedly waddled over to the table and set it down. When I opened the box, a wonderful, steamy, sweet aroma came up my nose. Aaahhh. If this was the smell, think about the taste!
“Stop contaminating zhe vood vith your dirty snout, you greedy-grubber!” I looked up, more than shocked. Then I remembered The Camera.
“Well I… am starving! So if you could hurry up with whatever duties of yours, hmm?” I replied.
“I haven’t anyzhing. Get a plate vrom zhe kitchen and get out vhatever you vant vrom zhe box.” The Camera slowly took a seat.
Slightly scowling, I got up with more-then-necessary noise, took out a prettily decorated plate from a cupboard, walked back, and sat down again.
“Look here dainty stallion. Zhere is zwo ov each zype ov Tidbit. You vill zake one, and I vill zake zhe ozher, and both ov us vill have one ov each kind, zo be vair. Understood?” She grumbled, leaning over the table. I nodded, a bored look on my face. She leaned back and helped herself to a piece. As the Tidbits were only a bite-size each piece, dinner was soon over.
About three hours later, I emerged from “my” room, wearing one of The Camera’s older brother’s pajamas. They fitted quite nicely. She didn’t tell me about her brother. At around the same time I did, The Camera opened her bedroom door. She walked over and gripped my shirt collar, lifting me up from the floor. What a freak. She's stronger then me-“Guh,” I gasped. My neck really hurt…
“I vant zo sleep as peacevully as I do ozher nights. So, you are having a little sleepover at my place, but you do NOT interfere vith my sleep, you understand?” She said threateningly, her face really, REALLY close. I frantically nodded yes, for I couldn’t breathe.
“Good,” she smiled, released her grip with a forceful push-I “OOF”ed here-turned, and haughtily walked away. Huh, she's got swag, this mare. A slam of her bedroom door made me jump. Once again, for the second time today, she scared me half to death. UGH, I rolled my eyes. What was her problem? I'm a mean old sky-blue mare who only talks nicely to a certain "Fluttershy" and nopony else! Tomorrow, I’d be leaving this dreadful garbage dump.
Hold on, I heard something coming from Photo’s room. Giggling? No, it couldn’t be. Choking? Yeah right, as if! Crying? That’s more like it. I slowly moved closer to her door and leaned the side of my head on it. Yes, it was weeping. I carefully turned the doorknob and peered inside. The Camera was facing her balcony away from me, lying in bed. I could hear her sobs more clearly now. She was also mumbling something; I couldn’t make out what. All I heard was:
“Oh… brother… why… you… do… help… heart… leave… ignored… why…”