//------------------------------// // To the Fashion Show! // Story: NO MORE PONIES // by Brony_Fife //------------------------------// 06: RARITY “Come at me, darling! Wah-ha-HAAA!” The night over Canterlot was quiet, save for the thudding music of the fashion show going on in the Lunar Garden Auditorium. Every important pony in all of Equestria had showed up for it. Even Prince Blueblood—the Prince Blueblood!—had shown up. This was a huge event, and would introduce the fall fashion lines that no doubt would change the face of Lookin’ Good As We Know It. Not that the security guards cared, honestly. They all stood around the expo building, uninterested in much of anything at all. Hardly anything dangerous happened at these events (though there was the Grape Juice Travesty of 2010), so most of the security guards took to staring at things, acts of personal hygiene, or staring at acts of personal hygiene. One pegasus picked his nose with his wing. His buddy winced. “Ew!” he whispered. “Jeez, Freefall, why not just fart or scratch your ass while you’re at it?” A dull roar bubbled quietly. At first, the security guards thought it was just the roar of the crowd inside the Auditorium, but this sounded a bit different. Like the roar of a tiger instead. As it grew louder, the guards’ ears perked up, one by one. In the distance the Schpeltiger could be seen gliding along the road, its bloodthirsty otaku passenger bearing a teeth-clenched grin. The security guards watched in awe as the Schpeltiger picked up speed, roaring even louder. Their awe didn’t last long, however—the moment Travis Touchdown crashed the gate, the first few security guards ducked for cover while he mowed down those unlucky enough to not run, teleport, or fly out of his way. Travis sped down the lot to the expo building, crushing every guard, every decorative statue, every light fixture, every handicap parking space—his target dead ahead. He looked up at the Auditorium, his eyes zeroing in on the flags advertising the fashionistas that bothered to show up. One flag was purple, with a symbol like a fancy-shmancy “R” that had a looping tail at the end, and a single, sultry eye within the R’s head. His smile grew as he realized he was on the right track. His first target was just up ahead. “Not gonna stop and sword up these mooks?” asked a ghostly voice. Travis shook his head as the Schpeltiger’s front wheel kissed a security guard in half. “Nah,” he said nonchalantly. “I’ve crashed so many fashion shows today looking for this bitch that I don’t care about cutting up henchmen anymore.” He glanced aside as the faded image of his master Thunder Ryu folded his arms and looked at him with a smirk. “Well, I can’t argue with that,” he said. “You’ve had a busy day. Of course, if you’d just looked up which fashion show she’d be attending, you wouldn’t even be in this mess.” Travis shrugged as he felt another security guard get ground up underneath his front wheel. “Fuck you,” he growled. “I visit a world based on a little girl cartoon and there’s fashion shows all over the fucking place. Is it really so surprising I couldn’t find which one, out of millions, she’d be at?” “That’s no way to talk to your Master, whether I’m alive or dead,” Thunder Ryu chided over the Wilhelm Screams of security guards. “Show me some respect, goddammit! And take off your clothes!” “No. Fuck no, shit no, hell no. A million times, no.” Thunder Ryu shook his head. “Kids these days,” he grumbled. “Well anyway, I hear this chick’s supposed to be kinda hot for a pony.” The Schpeltiger screeched to a sudden halt. Travis looked at Thunder Ryu. “…WHAT.” Thunder Ryu shrugged. “You know. For a pony. Kinda hot. In a ponyish kinda way.” Travis shook his head as he backed the Schpeltiger over a security guard who was unlucky enough to survive the first time he was run over. Travis had seen the pony porn, but he never assumed his Master would… …anyway, getting off-topic. “What do you know about her that’d be, y’know, useful?” Travis asked. “Kinda the reason I sought your spiritual guidance, here.” Thunder Ryu rolls his spectral eyes. “I thought you needed my spiritual guidance just to help you figure out which fashion show she’d be at. You know, without that selection menu, you’re pretty crappy at finding places.” “Stop complaining and gimme the goddamn information!” “All right, fine. She’s a unicorn, and an artist. So basically, a magic-user with a creative imagination.” A lone surviving security guard stood at the front door to the expo building. A bead of sweat rolled down his face as he stared down the Schpeltiger and its rider. He exhaled a cold breath as he shivered, mentally wondering why he hadn’t become a baker like Mom wanted him to. “Her magic doesn’t go very far beyond manipulating objects with her mind,” Thunder Ryu continued. “Of course, a little telekinesis can get a lotta mileage, know what I mean?” Travis pressed forward, daring the last security guard to stand his ground. “Yeah, I think I—” “I mean, when you’ve fucked as many psychics as I have, you learn that—” But the shock was too much. Travis completely lost control of Schpeltiger and flew from the seat as it crashed through several fancy garden fixtures and into the bushes nearby. He rolled along the concrete until he stopped at the hooves of the security guard. The security guard looked down at Travis, unsure of what exactly just happened. “I’m alive,” the shaken guard whispered in disbelief. Suddenly, he heard a sound like something lighting up. He didn’t get so much as a chance to look down before the Tsubaki Mk. III came up to meet his face. His vision suddenly split, his eyes gazing in two different directions. It took the security guard all of one second to realize he’d been cut completely in half. Mom was right, he thought as both halves fell to the ground with a splorch. Travis stepped over the bloody corpse and turned off his Tsubaki before opening the door to the main lobby of the Expo. There were a few ponies here, just chatting and chumming it up. All the security guards must have been outside or something. He walked through the room strangely without so much as a batted eyelash. It was odd that none of these ponies seemed surprised that a human being walked amongst them now, but Travis was the kind of guy who never stopped to ask questions. Because questions are for posers, and posers alone. Two security guards stood at the entrance to the auditorium. Travis could hear excited ponies inside applauding, as well as a booming voice describing whatever-the-fuck fashion was being displayed. One of the security guards stopped him. “Please state your name, sir,” he said. “Travis Touchdown,” he said. An uncomfortable pause, coupled with the uncomfortable stares of the guards. Travis found his hands going towards the Rose Nasty, expecting the hall to get flooded with more security guards, but to his great surprise, the guards got out of his way with nothing more than saying, “Cool name, bro.” Travis entered the floor show amidst roaring applause. Up on the stage was a fashion model pony displaying an extravagant design that drew attention to the model’s face and eyes. Girl shows had fashion like spring break had STDs, so it didn’t surprise Travis at all that this pony show had things like this pouring out of its ass like diarrhea. But he never quite understood why these ponies would be so into fashion if they didn’t usually wear anything anyway. He focused his attention on a rather influential-looking pony—nice clothes, playboy-esque look, white pelt, blue mane with an admittedly cool moustache. Plus a monocle. This pony “applauded” the show by stomping his hooves. The moment he started doing so, all the other ponies suddenly had nice things to say about this latest design. Travis pursed his lips This wouldn’t be as easy as climbing the ranks of the UAA, if only because all those Ranking Battles were fought when both parties were aware they’d have to meet. If he was going to fight this Rarity chick, he’d have to draw her out into the open first. Let’s see, what did Master say again? When you’ve fucked as many psychics as I have— Oh God no, the other thing. She’s kinda hot for a pony. Travis shook his head and tried to focus on the things Thunder Ryu told him that didn’t gross him out. She’s a unicorn, and an artist. Okay. If she’s an artist who’s that into her own work, getting her attention should be easy. Travis cupped his hands around his mouth and booed at the top of his lungs. It drew the attention of every pony in the room. “This fashion sucks!” he added. “It looks like something my grandma would wear naked!” The monocle-wearing pony looked at Travis with an eyebrow raised. “I say,” he said, “who is this buffoon?” He analyzed Travis more closely: the jacket, t-shirt, glasses… “Goodness, he looks like… well, a schlub.” Everypony scoffed at Travis’ silly outburst and the show went on undeterred. Travis looked over his own ensemble, and realized much to his dismay that he wasn’t exactly an authority on the subject of fashion. Travis scratched his chin, getting back to the problem at hand. That pony in the monocle seemed to have a lot of influence over this crowd. On top of that, Rarity didn’t even appear at all just because one guy didn’t like her artistic vision. What if… Travis sneaked his way through the crowd as the music thumped and thudded against the walls. The blue-maned DJ seemed to really be getting into her music, jamming in time with every thump and jumping with every thud. As Travis neared the monocle pony, he reached for his Tsubaki Mk. III. “Bravo!” said the monocle pony as he applauded the next disastrous clown costume. “I say, Brav—oh?” He felt the tip of Tsubaki’s laser-blade as it burned his anus. He held a squeak of terror as he heard Travis whisper, “You shit on my sword, it’s going right up your ass. Start booing.” The monocle pony began to sweat as if the air conditioning had been turned off. “Boo!” he cried, suddenly. “How dreadful! It looks like a cross between Swiss cheese and the 1990s!” It didn’t take long for the other ponies to blindly agree with Mr. Moneybags. Even the music died as the DJ looked out at the crowd in disbelief at how quickly they revolted. Travis looked at her and watched her mouth the words, “What’s wrong with the 1990s?” The pony announcing the fall lineup found herself suddenly shoved out of the way by a unicorn the color of marshmallows. “WHO DARES?!” she bellowed, her dark blue curls bobbing as she skidded to a stop. So the Queen of Fashion crawled from her lair! Travis sheathed his Tsubaki and jumped on the stage, eliciting a gasp from the crowd as the model on the catwalk cowered before him. “Please don’t kill me,” she whimpered gracelessly. He stepped over her as he pointed in the direction of the pony holding the microphone. “I dare,” he said dramatically. “What?” asked Rarity, raising a hoof to her ear. Travis raised his voice. “I DARE!” The pony cocked her head as if she couldn’t understand him. He groaned and cupped his hands, shouting through them “I SAID I DARE YOU! I DARE THE SHIT OUTTA YOU!” “Oh?” she said at last. “You? You dare to challenge my artistic vision?” “ANYTIME! ANYWHERE!” There was a long pause before Rarity gave an answer. The ponies all murmured and stared. Finally, Rarity spoke into the microphone. “Meet me on the roof in ten minutes.” With that, she gave the microphone back to the hostess and left. Travis smirked and nodded as he got off the stage, every eye on him as he stepped through the crowd like a badass. This was gonna be fun. But first, it was time to Save.