The Rustic and The Romantic

by TheLastBrunnenG


Drama-Induced Audience Apathy

“I’m hideous! Even the Diamond Dogs said so, and those filthy brutes are the very nadir of cleanliness and fashion. Truly, I was cursed from birth, else why would my distant, unloving parents have shut me away from the world, except to spare the public from the torment of observing the vile creature who is moi. Had I even a modicum of beauty, even the plainest of muzzles, I would not have been forced to endure the dungeons of my despair. I am unworthy of my lover’s gaze!”

“Rarity?”

“And I am certainly no seamstress, no costumer, no designer. My creations are worthless, beneath the scorn of the lowliest of fashion foes! Had I the merest inkling of style, I would be able to earn some meager income, to feed my crumbling body. Yet here I starve, for nopony understands my work. My very heart and soul, weak and pathetic as they are, I pour into every skirt, every ensemble, every scarf and stitch, yet I go unrecognized and unheralded. It is as I deserve, I fear. No, fair Applejack, do not waste your honeyed words on my insignificant creations, they are unfit even to wipe the sweat from your glistening brow.”

“Rares?”

”Abandoned! My family shuns me, and certainly I deserve their scorn. I was ever their disappointment, their… mistake. I was but an error in their grand plan, unloved and discarded. My sister, lovely, beautiful, perfect Sweetie Belle - she was their ultimate creation, their muse, their everything. Oh, how content would I have been to but walk in her shadow! Yet even then she fled from me. Mother distant, father abusive, and my sister, the one light in my young life, taken from me in that unspeakable accident. If only some kind soul would take pity on my lonely heart…”

“Okay Rarity, y’all can -“

“Broken and helpless, now even my own body rebels against me. The best doctors had no cure, and the sickness ravaged my frail frame. I feel faint, my vision hazy. The cough returned last night, and - and I think that means my time here grows short. My heart falters and my limbs tremble more each morn. My hearing is going - what’s that? I thought I heard distant bells, as if from a funeral procession… Surely my time draws near, and certainly I shall die alone, forgotten, disowned, and discarded. I dreamt of spending my final moments in my lover’s arms, her breath hot against my cold skin, yet ‘twas only a dream, for here I lie, unloved…”

“RARITY.”

“Hmm? Oh, one moment, Applejack, I’m almost done. Where was I? Oh, yes. Ruined! Destitute, I was forced to panhandle in the dusty streets of a cruel city, only to - “

“Okay, sugarcube, that there’s enough. You know, most couples, if’n they wanted to add a little bedroom spice, they’d find ‘em a bullwhip, or some marmalade jam. Or if’n they’s into playin’ roles, maybe they’d go fer somethin’ normal, like ‘Wonderbolt Captain and her new recruit’ or ‘Librarian and the Quill Store owner’. But this here just ain’t workin’ fer me.”

“But dear Applejack, does my dramatic turn not stoke a fire in your loins? Are you not inspired to ravish me and thereby put an end to my bleak existential crises?”

“Ah’m inspired to remind you that it’s darn near midnight, and Ah gotta buck the whole East Orchard by mahself in right about five hours. If y’all want some ravishin’ Ah’m all fer it. But if Ah gotta set through another o’ them monologues, y’all are gonna have to do the ravishin’ yerself, and yer probably gonna have to wake me when it’s over.”

“Applejack Apple, you have no sense of theatre whatsoever.”

“Set yer sexy flank down over by this fireplace with me, an’ Ah’ll show ya what Ah got a sense fer.”