Fifty-eight championships? What is she, some sort of super pony?
The stories of Cross Stitch’s incredible record-holding didn’t matter so much right now. What did matter was that I had Frumpy’s dress back, and even less time to spare. It took next to no effort convincing good-ole Cross Stitch to let me use it again, but I still had a feeling that I shouldn't have done it. Even then, it wasn’t the only thing I was worried about. I’m not the type of pony that do generally bad things.
I...may have borrowed a few newspaper clippings from her storeroom.
And some pictures of dresses.
...and a sketch or two.
My brain was screaming at me to stop, but I didn’t listen. After seeing Suri’s dress, I had to take any and every advantage I could get now. She wasn’t the only wolf in the pack, and it was going to be a constant battle to see who was to reign as the prettiest top dog in the puppy parade for a little longer than those before them. Before I walked in, I only, and I mean only had Frumpy’s dress on my mind. It was just too perfect to leave it to wither away in the next few decades.
But, when I removed the dress from its place on the storage room rack again, I couldn’t help but notice the dozens of boxes filled with assorted trinkets and other mementos from years gone by just sitting there on the shelves, with only layer after layer of dust caking the cardboard serving as a tribute to the living legacy they carried forth in memory. Inside were things like picture frames, sketchpads, magazines, and old newspapers...hundreds of them, and they all had pictures of dresses in them, the latest and greatest fashions of their time.
I shouldn't have taken them. I really shouldn't have taken them, but with today’s top designers finding inspiration in the wildest of places, what choice did I have? It was a nerve-wracking gallop all the way back home as over-exaggerated thoughts of getting arrested for this ran through my head, so I made a more solid vow to churn out this new design as fast as my hooves could sew and get them back to the store before anypony noticed.
Yeah, I said new dress design. I will never wholly admit that it was better, but Suri’s work and my work compared to the rest of the competition may as well have been doomed right from the start, mine maybe more than hers.
I rocketed down the sidewalk with the wind blowing through my bob-cut mane, darting around anypony who was in the way. I don’t think I’ve ran this fast since I was on my school’s track team back home in the Fillypines. I didn’t allow the heavy load on my back to keep me abated.
‘Three days, Coco. Three days!’ I murmured this as I ran to keep myself encouraged (you could imagine how well that worked out).
I was coming up on Mane Street, and things somehow got a whole lot quieter. I veered around the towering mega-bank of Trottington and Sons, slowing down to I could catch my breath, and immediately noticed a lack of carriage commuters on the road and pedestrians on the sidewalks. I gave a passing wave to a lone stallion sweeping the steps of an apartment complex, but other than that the entire length of road was barren.
Then, music began to blare all of the sudden within relatively close proximity to me, the tips of my ears flickering and swiveling to try and catch the source. I crossed another two blocks of complete emptiness until the music, echoing, became more prominent. Trumpets, tubas, oboes, and Prench horns blared noisily up ahead, and just when I thought I couldn’t get any more clueless, I rounded the corner to enter Mane Street and ran face-first into the backside of a peach-coated mare with a wild, deliberately unkempt mane style, all without looking. A little bit of hope for the future of the fashion industry shriveled away inside me, at least for the mane styles department. I whispered a faint ‘sorry’ before slipping past her and into the crowd, hoping to see what was going on.
A huge procession of floats, bands, and celebrities in fancy carriages steadied down the whole of the length of Mane Street with ticker tape raining down from the surrounding buildings and balloons floating about everywhere. The noise was at an almost deafening level of obnoxious, coming from both the huge crowd and the fanfare that blasted their music as far as their instruments could throw it.
I shook my head to clear it while pushing and excusing myself along my way to the edge of the sidewalk. Now only inches from the street, I stood there in surprise and watched as the floats were slowly tugged along. Everything had a theme of flowers and cute little animals, even the clothing the celebrities wore as they waved to onlookers from the comfort of their ostentatious rides. Fleur de Lis, Fancypants, Exqui Site, Frou Decor, the list just goes on.
It was certainly pleasant to look at, but then I remembered that I had a dream to realize. I turned to leave and ended up bumping into somepony else’s flank, only this time there was nowhere I could easily escape to. I sighed and awaited a harsh scolding.
“Hey, watch it will ‘ya?!” Shouted a mare’s voice over the noise, a voice of which I recognized more than anypony else’s.
“Snazzy?”
A familiar bronze-colored pony turned and faced me with a surprised look in her eyes. “Coco? Ohmygosh, it’s you!”
“What are you doing here, Snazzy?” I asked, leaning shifting closer to her as another band group passed our section of street.
“Duh! I’m here for the Salubrious Spring Day Celebratory Parade! Practically everypony in the city is out here to see it and celebrate the arrival of the first day of spring.”
“There was a parade today?” I asked with interest, and with a little irritation. How I could live in Manehatten for so long and never hear about something as festive as a celebratory parade was beyond me.
“Well duh, again! It’s been in all the papers, dead center on the front page actually, for like a week now!”
“...oh.”
When the band group passed us by, the crowds suddenly began to cheer louder. A humungous shadow crept over us and blotted out the light from above.
“Whoa, who turned out the sun?” asked Snazzy.
The cheering erupted into a full blown roaring, startling both of us. We turned and looked up to find one of the biggest parade floats yet looming over us like it ruled the streets. It was difficult to see who was standing on it with the absence of light, so I squinted my eyes in hope I could make out some, if any, modicum detail of the behemoth.
“See anything yet?”
“Argh, I can’t! Why would make something this big for a parade? Hardly anypony can see who’s on it.”
“We’re about to find out.”
The float wasn’t actually as tall as we thought it was. It was the inconvenience of an immense skyscraper that kept our vision abayed. We had to inch our way down the loud and cacophonous streets to keep up with it, until the facade of glass and concrete was cleared.
“Oh, oh! There it is! It’s...” Snazzy gulped. “It’s...OMYGOSH! SABOT PETITE!”
Have you ever wondered why pony bridezillas have been demanding taller and taller wedding cakes over the years, and how much of a struggle it must be for the bakers to make and assemble them with meticulous instruction and only with the most trusted of crafting skills (of which they practically needed to be a carpenter to shoehorn a way to hold all of the layers together, let alone upright)? I don’t think I’ve ever thought about that before until the moment when this giant of a parade float loomed over the heads of onlookers like it was the greatest thing since the advent of the wheel. It was organized in a whopping five layers, all of which were draped over by satin silk sheets embroidered with pictures of springtime flora. There wasn’t much else to the float besides the firm’s business placard at the front, unless you count all the supermodels flaunting in their gussied-up gait as they waved to Manehatten’s cheerful citizens. The floor of each layer was its own little runway for two.
“Are you seeing this right now, Coco?!” Snazzy stammered excitedly, squealing in delight as we stood there and watched the float slowly pass us by. “Just look at those gowns! You have to be, like, a magician or something to put something that good together! A mastermind even! Wait, look!” Snazzy redirected me to the peak of the float, where two amazingly well-dressed ponies sat side by side and waved to the crowds below. One was a stallion and the other was a mare, the envy of suave young ladies everywhere. They were holding hooves too, and they had diamond rings strung on necklaces hanging around their necks. No doubt that such a pair of well-respected ponies were married.
“Who are they?” I asked, squinting my eyes to get a better look at their faces dwindling from sight as the float moved away.
“That was Cufflinks Cortejar and his wife, Clarice. They practically own Manehatten’s fashion industry. That, and they’re the founders of Sabot Petite!”
“Wow,” I whispered softly, looking up at them as their proud presentation sailed away into the distance. Clarice turned her head around, supposedly to gaze back at the city’s cheerful populace, when she noticed my bug-eyed look and gave me a gentle wave. I blushed and looked away, not too keen to being singled out in big crowds. That was when Snazzy let out a gasp big enough to balloon her chest up to great size.
“She waved at you. She WAVED at you, one of my best friends! This is the best day ever!” Snazzy shouted before grabbing my cheeks and shaking my head furiously. She released me once I tugged on her hooves hard enough in an attempt to push her away. I readjusted the precious cargo of clothing and ‘borrowed’ parchments on my back.
“Th-This is fun and all, Snaz, but I gotta bolt. It’s really important.” I nudged Snazzy aside and made as quick of an exit as I could, timidly pushing others aside as well and apologizing for each and every little annoyance. “I’ll talk to you later!” I shouted as I ran through the fray.
“Wait, not yet, Coco! The fireworks emporium float’s almost here. You’re gonna miss it!”
A loud bang and a series of crackles and whistles suddenly filled the city block. Snazzy jolted and covered her ears, but a wide smile formed on her face as she pushed her way back to the head of the crowd to watch the brightly-colored entrepreneurial display up close as it passed by. An orange-coated stallion, who could best be described as another one of Equestria’s whimsical party ponies, sat atop a rolling vendor that puttered along to the tune of the steam engine that powered it. With dizzy laughter, he tossed firecrackers big and small into the air. When they burst in an explosion of sparks and confetti, small candies burst out with them, landing on the sidelines for eager fillies and colts to run up and have at them like hungry dogs.
“Now now, folks, now now. Freddie Confetti’s Fireworks Emporium has plenty more where that came from! And, every purchase of a six-pack of these fun little buggers gets you one of these.” The stallion leapt higher onto his vendor and whipped out a large red bottle rocket, of which many smaller rockets were attached, encircling it in a ring. “The Dragon’s Maw. Just when you thought his flaming breath couldn’t get any hotter, he gobbles you up when you least expect it!”
As the crowd gawked at the impressive explosive, the would-be madpony set the carrier rocket alight and placed it into a cradle. Many tense seconds later and it was off, quite so, like a rocket, arcing into the sky at incredible speeds.
...almost too incredible. The onlookers shook wildly in their hooves, eagerly waiting for the main event to fill the daytime sky with a splash of light and sound, but nothing came. It just continued to soar as though it intended on escaping the city. Slowly, their anticipation died down, and they all turned their confused looks to its creator, who was just as baffled as they were, as signified by how he nervously scratched the back of his head.
“...huh,” Freddie started, tapping his chin pensively. “I guess everypony’s gonna expect it now. I swear I mixed those powders just right.”
Then, to everyone’s great surprise, the main rocket exploded and showered the sky with gold and red sparkles. I slowed down and looked behind me just as I heard the explosion. It startled me, but it was marvelous nonetheless. That was when I noticed what sort of payload the firework had let loose into the sky. It was like somepony broke open a beehive! Dozens of little rockets swarmed over me, and for a moment I thought they were actually going to kill me, until they starting diving towards the ground, but it was still far from what I had hoped would happen.
I managed to retreat from the thickest parts of the crowd, but only so I could leave myself more exposed to the missile onslaught. They seemed to be coming after me exclusively. It was one of the craziest things I had ever seen! One after another they hit the ground and blew up only a hoof or two away from me, leading me to dodge them like deceptive little landmines.
WHAM!
I didn’t look where I was going. How could I anyway? I was being shelled like every grungy part of every war novel ever, but it was who was unfortunate enough to get ran into by me that was most worrying. Their inattentive flank could have ruined the dress!
I stumbled backward a short distance and rubbed the dizziness and pain from my forehead, blinking my eyes open to find that it wasn’t anypony I might have been expecting to be giving a stern talking-to.
“Lily?” I gasped, performing a quick check of the dress on my back and breathing a sigh of relief when I had seen that it was still there, safe and sound.
“Hah, hah...” Lilly panted, wiping her brow free of sweat. “A-Am I late for the parade?”
“Maybe a little. Sorry I ran into you like that.”
“Hey, it’s all cool. What’s up with the dress?”
I perked up at that, smiling and retrieving the dress from atop my back. Never would I have expected that, the very moment my lips parted to reveal my explanation, one of the many micro missiles would fly into the dress and swipe it from my very hooves.
“No! The dress!” I cried out in sudden alarm, giving chase to the priceless artistry as it ascended into the sky again on a trail of purple and gold sparks and leaving Lily as addled as the hardiest tree stump.
I was awfully scared that the sparks would cause the dress to catch on fire. Even in these high winds, heat and fabric were never good bedfellows. The fools to bring those two together when dressmaking are playing a dangerous game. Another thing that filled me with a sense of dread was just how far this little rocket was going to go. It just kept going up and up and further up still. It might have winded up on a rooftop or a flagpole, and there was no telling how long it would take to get it down.
Suddenly, my hoof got caught on something, and I face planted straight into a muddy puddle. The rest of me landed on top of some large patch of grass. For the few seconds I was down, I bewilderedly pondered how far I had been running to reach any sort of natural foliage in a city this developed. After shaking myself dry, I looked up to find that I had somehow ran far enough to reach Mane Street Park. Of course it had to be the park...
“Wait! Where’s the dress?!” I thought aloud, looking every which way in search of the high-flying dress. That’s when I heard the high-pitched whining of it whizzing overhead. Apparently I ran faster than it too. Being on the track team improved me more than I thought. Sadly, that didn’t stop me from personally witnessing one of the most horrific moments of my career.
The rocket that the dress had been riding on was finally, finally starting to sputter out and expend the last of its fuel. I was up and ready to intercept it as it plummeted from the sky, but a large pond in the middle of the park, directly below the falling dress, ultimately sealed its fate.
I skidded to a stop at the edge of the muddy bank, and was left to watch helplessly as the jewel of lower Manehatten drifted onto the pond’s dirty, algae-laden surface. I shrieked, loud enough for it to echo. My teeth chattered painfully on the edge of my fore hooves as I sat there, watching it sink. I didn’t know what to do. Save it or don’t save it, even if it could be saved?
That was when I noticed the resident pond dwellers, small fish, frogs, ducks, and the like taking a pique interest in the priceless fabric, and they began to swim towards it. I panicked even more and jumped straight into the murky waters. Desperate times called for desperate measures. I didn’t care in the slightest if I got a little dirty. Rarity...might have done the same.
“Ack! Shoo, shoo! Go away!” I yelled as I thrashed about in the water, splashing and making a scene in an attempt to scatter the unwelcome scavengers. The little critters swam away quickly, but a lone, stubborn duck stuck around and grabbed the bottom half of the dress with its strong bill. I don’t think I’ve ever been that angry at something so cute before. “No! That is not for you!”
I grabbed at the upper half of the dress and tried to paddle in the opposite direction, but the unshakable waterfowl wouldn’t give in to oppressive earth pony power. It flailed its feet and wings about, kicking up plumes of cold water onto my face. I must have looked like a complete buffoon combatting a duck in a pond and somehow losing to it. My makeup was ruined, but I would NOT let it have that dress! I tugged harder and harder, wrestling with the black-billed devil, until...
RIIIP
We were thrown away from each other, myself further than he. I landed back on the bank of the pond, dazed and confused. The duck, on the other hoof, quacked and flew away like contending with things five times bigger than itself was an everyday activity.
“Nnn...” I moaned, then felt the dress’s comforting touch in my hooves. I breathed a sigh of relief and held it up to look it over, and then...darkness. Just like that, I blacked out, or at least I think I did. That part of my memory seems to have disappeared.
Just...uhh...just give me a moment. It’ll come to me eventually.