"Could you read me a story?"
In Ponyville, it's an early afternoon, and all is quiet.
Except the boutique.
For the past year, the boutique has been very... loud. Yelling everyday, arguing constantly, very loud "noises" around bedtime, and machines constantly running. So much noise goes on, people lose sleep because of it.
"Spike, where are my sapphires?"
"Umm... what sapphires?"
"The sapphires we got yesterday."
"Oh those! Well, according to the trajectory of the sun and the moon, the sapphires are in my digestive track, in my stomach, because I ate them."
"Are you freaking kidding me, Spike? I asked you to do one thing, and you messed it up. I SPECIFICALLY ASKED YOU 'Spike honey, we have some gems at home. Please don't eat these.' And what did you do? The EXACT DAMN OPPOSITE!"
"Well, none of the gems we had were sapphires, and I had a craving."
"A craving for what?!"
"Sapphires." He said, smiling widely.
"Spike, you're craving something, and it's not sapphires."
"Actually, you're right. It's rubies."
"SPIKE!"
"Stop yelling, I'm right here."
"Screw off, Spike. Why can't you ever be serious?"
"Why do you always have to be up my ass about things?"
"My foot is about to be up your ass in a second." She gritted.
"Sorry, I can't here you over the sapphires."
"Spike, please be serious." She said as calm as possible.
"Okay, what's this about babe?"
"Don't call me babe, and you damn well know what this is about."
"Rarity, you have to stop being so uptight. Sometimes it's hot, but all the time it's too much."
"I wouldn't be so uptight if you didn't always act like a little boy!"
"I don't always act like a little boy!"
"Sorry, little girl."
"Okay Rarity. Ha ha ha, very funny, but you shouldn't talk about yourself like that."
"Spike, I'm done."
"What?"
"You heard me. I'm done."
"Done with what?"
"The arguing, constant lying and bickering."
"That's because you're always on me, you're annoying and I just act like I don't care when REALLY, I still don't care."
"For a second, I thought you were gonna be serious. What is up with you today? You're seriously acting like a damn foal."
"I just want a day where I don't have to be an adult. Can't we be a fun and happy couple like the start of our marriage? When you weren't being an uptight ass."
"I'm done with you, Spike."
"What do you mean by that?"
"I'm going out with the girls. I'll be back."
"'Going out with the girls'? Like I haven't heard that one before. While you're out, tell Fancy Pants I said 'Hi.'"
"Screw off Spike. I already told you I don't talk to him anymore. We dated six years ago. If you don't believe me when I say that, that's your fault."
"Okay, Rarity. That's why one night you snuck out and came back at 2 a.m. wasted off your ass, and I asked you where you were, you said 'At a Fancy Pants restaurant.' He doesn't own any restaurants. And when I asked the girls if they had known where you were, they all said no."
"I don't have to take this. Goodbye."
"Whatever."
"By the way, you better not eat my damn gems.
"No promises."
And she left. Spike and Rarity's marriage have been on the rocks for the past year. Ever since Spike lost his job at the Sugarcube Corner, everything started spiraling downward. Money became tight, and arguements were a daily thing. Gems became extremely important, and the worst, the constant bickering and arguing. They argue about every little thing between each other. Neighbors were worried Spike was beating her, until he came out one day with a black eye. Others say she has Stockholm Syndrome and likes being held hostage. When this rumor went around, she walked outside and yelled "I'm not being held hostage!" Their relationship is getting closer and closer to worse things. And it's not looking bright on the other end. At 1:35p.m., Rarity came home.
"Where the hell have you been?"
"I already answered you. I was out with the girls."
"Bullcrap. I smell cider."
"Well, you're smelling things, because I'm completely sober." Which she was in fact, sober.
"I bet you were out with Fancy Pants and he offered you cider and you declined, but he drank."
"Screw off. We don't talk and I don't have to take this. I'm going to bed."
"You always do this shit, Rares. We get in an arguement, and you don't even attempt to talk it out. You storm off. That's so sickening."
"Oh please! You complain like a mare about little things and just think talking will fix it. And that's when you're acting mature. When you're actng normally, you're like a kid that drank too much coffee."
"I wouldn't complain and act childish if you didn't do things behind my back and always act uptight. Maybe talkng things out won't fix everything, but atleast we won't be arguing. It's so sickening already."
"You're sickening already!"
"Shut up, you're sickening. All you do is act shady."
"Goodnight Spike."
"Whatever, I'm leaving anyway!" Spike yelled.
"Fine!" Rarity yelled back. Spike stormed into the room and filled a bag with his things. He was about to be gone until Rarity stopped him.
"Wait."
"What do you want?"
"You're right."
"Here we go."
"I'm serious, Spike."
"So am I."
"This constant arguing and bickering is annoying already. And we have to do something about it."
"Like what? More marriage counselors? They already said divorce. And you don't want that." Spike suggested.
"Actually, I think that's what we need."
Spike pondered the idea for a moment. "Yeah, I agree."
"No we do. We-" she stopped. Wait, did you just agree with me?"
"Yeah, I did for once. We're so different now, and we just aggravate each other and I can't stand it anymore."
"Yeah. Well, it's settled then." Rarity finished
"Yeah."
"Well, goodnight then."
"Hey Rarity-"
"Yes you can. The couch."
"Fine." Spike growled, grabbing a blanket and pillow.
And off to bed they went. Even though neither wanted to divorce, they knew it'd be for the best.
"Spike!" She yelled.
"What?"
"We go tomorrow, and you're taking me."
"Fine." He said in his half-asleep slumber.