//------------------------------// // “Stupid Mondays should just throw ‘emselves off of a cliff.” // Story: Misadventures in Manehattan // by The Princess Rarity //------------------------------// Misadventures in Manehattan by The Princess Rarity EVENT ONE: Waking Up It’s a popular saying - and fact - that Manehattan is the city that never sleeps. What with so many attractions and businesses, it couldn’t afford to do such a thing. Lights lit up the night sky, and when sunlight made it’s way across the horizon, it was equally bright. In the early hours, the only difference to tell between night and day would most likely be the sound of an alarm clock shrieking. Grace let out a loud groan as she reached over, attempting to crush the digital appliance, with no such luck. Instead, the beeping only increased and she growled, reaching down and unplugging the clock. With a sigh at the relief of silence, she fumbled for her glasses and slid them on clumsily. She blinked rapidly for her eyes to adjust with the harsh light of waking up, and grimaced at the realization that today was Monday. Like any reasonable pony, Grace despised Mondays. Mondays were a fresh new beginning to a week. Mondays meant work. Mondays were full of chaos downtown. Mondays seemed to drag on forever. In short, Mondays sucked. The clock on the bedside table was stuck at reading 7:00 am. Grace contemplated if she could lay in bed for just a few more minutes. After all, she could be dressed and ready within two minutes and breakfast wasn’t always that important… ...then again, her grumbling stomach said otherwise. Ok, maybe breakfast was important. But still, ten more minutes in bed wouldn’t kill her, would it? She could still hail a cab and be to work on time even if she slept in a little. Her golden eyes fluttered close, and she was about to snuggle back under her comforter, when a loud snore from across the room caused her to let out a frustrated sigh. Pulling the blanket over her face to block out the noise, Grace couldn’t believe she had slept through that annoyance. It seemed as if she had no choice but to get up now. “I hate Mondays,” Grace mumbled as she trudged out of her extremely comfortable bed and trekked across the cold hardwood floor that shocked her awake with every step she took. “Stupid Mondays should just throw ‘emselves off of a cliff.” She entered the kitchen and flicked on the electric coffee pot, letting the caffeinated beverage percolate while she slid into the nearby bathroom. Her face had creases from the position she had been sleeping in, while her mane was hanging limp and frazzled. Grace reached for a brush and began fussing with the tangles, while she turned on the water. She placed the brush down and splashed her face, trying to feel refreshed, but it didn’t work at all. Instead, she was spitting out lukewarm water and feeling groggy. She snatched a washcloth and wiped the water off of her glasses, realizing how stupid she was for leaving them on while washing her face. Mornings in general were terrible, actually. A knock on the door was heard, and Grace rolled her eyes. “Coco!” she called. “Can you get up and answer the door?!” The only reply was another snore. Grace realized that for such a quiet, calm pony, her roommate was probably the loudest snorer in all of Equestria. Now, the doorbell went off. “Coco! Answer it!” Grace yelled, as she went back to brushing her mane. Instead of words, there were snores. Again. Grace let out an exasperated sigh, and threw her head back in frustration. She tossed her brush down onto the countertop and shuffled out of the bathroom. She sneered at the sight of Coco, splayed out on the sofa bed and cuddled with her blankets, blissfully unaware to the fact that it was morning. Grace considered leaving her roommate there to sleep and miss work, but she wasn’t cruel. Instead, she decided waking Coco up late on purpose would be far more entertaining. There was one last knock on the door, before Grace swung it open. She recognized the pony standing there, but she couldn’t recall the name at this moment. She yawned and rubbed her eyes. “Yeah, whatdya want?” she muttered. “I was told that this was the residence of Coco Pommel?” “Um, yeah,” Grace mumbled. “She lives here.” A snore was heard. “Can I take a message?” “Just tell her Rarity dropped off these,” the pony said as she levitated a paper bag out of her saddlebags. “I was hoping to talk to her before I leave the city today, but if she’s, er, busy--” “--oh, no, not at all. In fact, I remember you now,” Grace replied. “Gimme a minute.” She took the bag and placed the parcel down onto the floor. Then, she climbed onto the sofa bed. Surprisingly, Coco didn’t stir in the slightest, so drastic times definitely called for drastic measures. Grace picked up one of the closest pillows, lifted it up and inhaled a deep breath. “Coco! Wake up!” she screamed, as she began beating her roommate with the pillow. “Your sexy boss is here and she’ll fire your ass if you don’t get outta bed!” That obviously did the trick. Within milliseconds, Coco was wide awake and practically shaking. “Wh-wha?” she sputtered out, trying to block the pillow swats. Grace stiffened her lip and her expression displayed the fact that she was trying so hard not to burst into hysterical laughter. It was almost hilarious how Coco’s embarrassment was glowing as bright as a flashlight in a dark room. “She, uh… Miss Rarity isn’t my boss,” she managed to stutter out. “Well, you wouldn’t have a job if it wasn’t for her, so she’s your boss, according to me,” Grace retorted as she slapped Coco with the pillow one more time for good measure. Coco laughed nervously and Grace waved a hoof. “Ah, I get it, I’ll leave you two crazy kids alone,” she smirked. “I’ll be in the kitchen watching tv and eating cereal.” She eyed the pony, Rarity, in the doorway and gave a wink. “Call me sometime?” “I beg your pardon--” “--Grace, please go away,” Coco groaned as she fell back onto the bed. “C’est la vie,” Grace said, with a mock sigh and a soft chuckle.