//------------------------------// // The Type of Pony Everypony Should Know (Rarity, Sad) // Story: Bombastic Bookpony's Bazaar of Oneshots // by Bombastic Bookpony //------------------------------//         They were beautiful.         Dressed in clothes that commanded attention, stood with a posture that demanded respect, and talked in a way that would never let you go. They were beautiful. Every filly and colt in school wanted to talk to them, wanted to be them. They maneuvered through each conversation with the utmost skill and poise, giving each pony just enough attention to enthrall them. They were beautiful. They were the type of pony everypony should know. And Rarity just had to know these intriguing ponies.         So she went up to them, dressed in plain clothing, awful accessories, and that awful, horrendous accent. And they did what any high class, respectable pony did when faced with the classless fools; they laughed. they laughed and made fun of her way of speaking, her mane, her smile, every last thing that made her her, and she trotted away in tears.         They were beautiful, like the sun. And Rarity had dared to stare upon them, and she had gotten burned.         She ran home, crying as she opened the door. She retreated to her room, even as her father called out, asking if she was okay. She locked the door and collapsed on her bed. She was not okay. She was ugly. She was foolish, unrespectable, annoying. She was the type of pony everypony should avoid, lest they be dragged into the dirt where she belonged. She eventually sat up, and was faced with her mirror, taunting her. Taunting her with her less than shiny teeth, with her unruly hair, with her plain face. With a scream she launched her hairbrush at the mirror and smashed it. Smashed the image of the ugly filly. And as her rage subsided, she saw in the reflection of the glass a stack of magazines that her mother left her.         Her mother went on and on about the pretty ponies and clothing. She did not care for it then. But maybe she should. Maybe proper, beautiful ladies cared about such things. And as she studied the magazines, and made changes to her hair, her face, applied makeup and fur gel, listened to the tapes that held the beautiful voices of celebrities, removing the pony that was laughed at piece by piece, she made a resolution.         She would be the type of pony everypony should know.