//------------------------------//
// Gazpacho: A Dish Best Served Cold (Comedy/ Slice of Life) 
// Story: Oneshot Grab-Bag 
// by Banchoking 
//------------------------------//

	I sat in the kitchen of the Carousel Boutique, reading the news paper, as I did every morning before going to my job at town hall. However, unlike usual, I did so with a rather sour look on my face. 

You see, I was normally a rather sociable and upbeat fellow, despite the fact that I was trapped in an alternate dimension where talking animals and mythological creatures ruled the world. In fact, I took such revelations in stride. It was this quality that had allowed me to get along so well with the natives, including my landmare (and no that isn't a typo). 

However, the week before last, I realized that my kind and patient nature had a downside. This was when she had insisted that I allow her to use me as a model for a minotaur ensemble she had felt inspired to make. I respectfully declined as I had a dinner date. (Don't judge. After half a year without a human female, you'd go native too.) 

She wouldn't take no for an answer and when I quickly made for the door in a panic, she cast a spell that froze me motionless for the next hour or so. While the spell prevented me from getting sore or my limbs from falling asleep, it was degrading and it took a week of apologizing for my date to give me another chance.

So I decided then and there that I would teach my landmare a lesson about personal respect. After Sweetie Bell came down the stairs for breakfast, I knew it wouldn't be much longer. That's when I heard it. The sound of a door opening, a very ladylike yawn, the bathroom door opening and closing.....I waited for it, sweating slightly, letting out a sigh when I heard the shower start. I tried my best to conceal my grin behind the newspaper as I handed Sweetie Bell the comic section. 

Soon the sound of running water stopped and, after a brief moment of silence, I heard the single most blood curdling scream of my life. Sweetie Bell dove under the table in surprise just as I heard the sound of hurried, angry hoof stomps come down the stairs. I looked up from my paper and there, standing at the foot of the stairs, was Rarity, not that you'd recognize her now. She was still soaked, and her mane and tail fell limply around her, but that wasn't the most striking difference, oh heavens no!

Her dripping mane and tail were no longer their usual lovely shade of purple, rather more of a dirty shade of brownish red. Her coat, which was usually a spotless marshmallow white, was now the color of red clay mud spilled unevenly across clean white carpet. Best of all, her colors were running.

"YOU did this!" she shrieked. Had she not been so refined I suspect she would have been frothing at the mouth.

I put on my most innocent face, "I take it you found the instant bouillon cubes I put in the shower head."

The glare she gave me was gratifying beyond words.

"Why would you do something so...SO...."

"Insensitive?" her anger was replaced by a look of confusion, "Rarity, when I didn't want to be your model, you used your magic to force me to be still against my will, causing me to miss a very important engagement with a very special lady."

Rarity broke eye contact and began pawing (hoofing?) at the floor. 

I stood up and walked over to where she stood, "It was time you learned something that was drilled into my head as a teen, 'no means no,'" I flicked her on the nose as I walked by, "Because, like soup, revenge is a dish best served cold."