//------------------------------//
// Flim and Flam are Trying to Sell Repairs for Your Bed (whizzball1) 
// Story: Fimfic Authors Are In Your Bed 
// by Admiral Biscuit 
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Flim and Flam are Trying to Sell Repairs for Your Bed
whizzball1

You rode home with a peculiar sense of serenity for a Monday. Besides the imminent nuisance of the ponies in your bed, today had been rather simple. Not so repetitive that it was tiring, now, but neither were there any irritated customers with you. Some were in a hurry, certainly, but not angry.

So you drove home, not tired, not angry, just calm. And hopefully ready for whatever the ponies threw at you this time. You entered your house, seeing nothing out of place in your kitchen or living room, and no ponies hiding with magic or otherwise, either. All calm.

Spurred on by the wonderful lack of anything out of the ordinary, you strode into your bedroom and immediately tripped over a piece of your headboard. Miraculously, you landed in a circle of the room that was not littered with pieces of your bed.

Wait. Pieces of your bed?

You ignored the fact that Flim and Flam had just levitated the pieces away to save you from a terrible fall and instead focused on the fact that your room was littered in pieces of your bed. There was a notable lack of bed where it should be, instead replaced with more pieces of bed. Also, there was quite a lot of stuffing and some springs scattered about.

Next, you noticed the main source of the stuffing: a white cat who you recognised as Rarity’s, ripping apart your pillows. For some reason there was quite a lot more stuffing scattered about than you had in your pillows. You chalked it up to cats being cats.[1] 
[1]: Not to say you didn't like cats. That was just what they did.


Finally, as they stepped out of the closet, you turned your gaze to the two salesponies, who you were unpleasantly acquainted with when they had tried to sell you your bed and did in fact sell your bed. Multiple times. At least they were warm.

“You’re quite lucky we got rid of all those pieces in time to save you from a nasty fall?” Flam, the one with the moustache asked.

“What you are also lucky of is the fact that we found your bed--” Flim continued, pointing to the various pieces of your bed.

“--and we know how to repair it!” Flam took two small pieces of the bed and fused them together. It was clear that they fit. However, rather than thinking about the possibility that your bed could be fixed, you instead allowed yourself to dissolve into an incoherent babbling fool.

Well, you held the last two in dispute.

Your eyes darted around the room faster and faster, taking in the mess that was once your bed. “Pfftblrgle,” you finally let out.

“Yes, it is quite the mess,” Flim responded.

“Ptchlklirgir.” Your incoherent mumbles, you later reflected, did not seem like the normal kind of thing that would escape from someone’s mouth, no matter whether they were incoherent, babbling, a fool, or any combination thereof. You would chalk that up to cats being cats as well, not having the resolve to come up with a better reason.

Finally, you came to your senses and glared at the two ponies. “Let me guess. You destroyed my bed and now you’re trying to sell me repairs for a tonne of money.” That was probably literal, considering the coins were made out of gold. What was a tonne? 2000 kilograms? Okay, maybe not a tonne, but close enough.

The brothers were genuinely shocked by the accusation, and it showed in their faces. They were con artists, and maybe thieves every now and then, but they did not destroy property. “We would never!” Flim exclaimed, nearly indignantly.

“We have no idea who could have done this,” Flam added.

“Well, other than the cat as the culprit for your unfortunate pillows,” Flim finished. They weren’t sure if they could fix those, but they weren’t about to say that out loud.

A blonde-maned, dark orange-coated earth mare with pink earrings stepped out of the closet. “It was I, Mr. the Human,” she said, gruffly.

“Why?!” you asked, your eye twitching. You felt like you recognised how she called you. Something having to do with the Equestria Games.

“Well, Mr. the Human, I arrived here by some mysterious influence not of my knowing. Seeing as I was not going to find out how any time soon, I set to make some good work out of it. Recognising your house and bed, Mr. the Human, I inspected the latter to see if you had improved it since my last inspection.”

Ah, yes. Mrs. Harshwhinny, who had previously reviewed your bed and deemed it entirely unsuitable for hosting the Equestria Games. “While the Savior of the Universe print was an improvement from its last state, it was not any less unsuitable for hosting the Games.

“I decided to increase the area of the bed to judge it from there. However, lacking the presence of any capable unicorns, I resorted to more unconventional methods.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Like?”

“As any rational earth pony would do, I extended my back legs very quickly against the bed, an action colloquially known as bucking, causing it to break apart into many pieces, which then extended the total area covered by the bed to your whole room. However, it was still not nearly large enough, and was in fact less suitable than before.”

There was a silence, and even Opalescence stopped ripping up the pillow. You began to stutter, thoroughly startled by the idiocy of the act. You realised, however, that it was probably the universe twisting what would normally be a more rational mind into… Whatever possessed her to do that.

“Speak clearly, Mr. the Human,” Mrs. Harshwhinny scolded, her disapproving frown turning into a scowl.

You continued to stutter.

Mrs. Harshwhinny’s scowl deepened.

“Beg pardon,” Flim said, to Mrs. Harshwhinny. “We don’t mean to be rude, but that was--”

“--a highly irrational course of action,” Flam finished, waving his hoof dismissively.

“It certainly seemed quite rational,” Mrs. Harshwhinny scoffed, waving her hoof at the mess of debris, before her face fell slightly. “However, in professional retrospect, that action was in fact entirely unsuitable for a potential hoster of the Equestria Games.”

You continued to stutter.

“In order to once again better judge the qualifications of the candidate, I will be acquiring your services, Misters…”

Their eyes lit up. “He’s Flim--”

“He’s Flam--”

“And we’re the world famous Flim Flam brothers!”

“Yes. I will be acquiring your services, Mr. the Brothers.”

“Seriously?” you managed to ask, before returning to your stuttering. Mrs. Harshwhinny ignored you and your entirely unprofessional behaviour.

Flim and Flam repressed a joint roll of the eyes and scrutinised the damage. “Yes, that will be 500 bits.” That was as much as they had charged you for your bed. The rationality was just enough to snap you out of your stupor once you had processed it.

“Then begin, quickly. I will not be kept waiting any longer than is necessary. The bed must be judged.”

Suddenly, Rarity jumped out of the closet, startling everypony. “Wait just one minute!” You realised that she had just come out of the same closet that Mrs. Harshwhinny and the Flim Flam brothers had come out of. And you happened to know that while it was a walk-in closet, it was not very big. At all. Whatsoever.

Upon the realisation that four ponies had been in your closet all at once at some point in time, you immediately began stuttering again, your expression going blank. Opalescence curiously peered into the closet, confused as well from the new development. It was still too small for so many ponies. She, however, being the temperamental cat that she was, was altogether more interested in ripping up pillows endlessly than apparent spatial distortions.

You continued to stutter.

“I, Rarity, will help with this endeavour, free of charge!” Rarity exclaimed, with a flourish of her hoof. “Surely, with my expert skills in style, I will make this bed into the most suitable host of the Equestria Games ever!” And with that, they set to work recreating your bed.

Flim and Flam began reassembling the bed, fusing parts together as Rarity utilised her cat to inexplicably generate more parts. She colour-coordinated the wood and softer parts, while also making the mattress, bedsheets, and pillows much softer. Flim and Flam, with Rarity’s help, made the wood look and feel much smoother, along with making it more fancy and adding a few bells and whistles.

At some point (you didn’t remember exactly when, since you were locked in a stupor), Discord stepped out of the closet as well, providing multiple spatial distortions and other chaotic touches. Finally, by the time they were done, they had somehow converted what was originally a small, mundane bed into a larger, much more comfortable, and very stylish bed that also contained an entire stadium in a slide-out drawer under it.

It apparently also magically produced food, could change colours, provide reading material, and multiple other useful touches. Long story short: It was the best bed you had ever seen. 

So, finally, you snapped out of your incoherent state and instead began gawking. After a few more moments, you made a jump for the bed, but Rarity caught you in a telekinetic field, magically switched your clothes into something much cleaner, which she then changed into something much more stylish, before depositing you on the bed.

It was amazing. You, unfortunately, had no other thoughts on the matter, because you were too busy getting your mind blown by the amazingness to be very verbose about it. You rolled around on the bed in a very unprofessional expression of glee, taking in the incredible softness.

“An exemplary production,” Mrs. Harshwhinny said, dryly. She began inspecting the bed, and the ponies (and cat and draconequus) involved in the creation of the bed grew nervous about whether it would be accepted or not. After some minutes, the examiner finally moved away from the bed and looked at each of them.

“I deem this bed… 100% suitable for hosting the Equestria Games!” she exclaimed, professionally. “It is big enough to hold the expected turnout and the different games, contains multiple magical vomitoriums to accommodate the influx, and is fully equipped, magical or otherwise, in all required venues and services.

“However, that was in fact only the entrance exam. Two years of the Equestria Games have been booked already. You will have to apply again at a later date.”

“But I never applied in the first--”

You were professionally ignored and interrupted by Mrs. Harshwhinny, who continued. “Therefore, this bed has no more use.” Before anypony could stop her, she extended her legs quickly against the back of the bed. Rarity shrieked in despair at the imminent destruction of the bed. But the bed did not break.

Instead, the spatial distortions collapsed, causing the stadium and all new mechanisms of the bed to wink out of existence. The bed collapsed back into its original size. You, however, continued to roll around on the bed until you suddenly fell off over an edge that was not supposed to be there.

You stood up and rubbed your head. “What happened?” Your eyes widened as you realised your bed wasn’t large any more. Thankfully, it was still colour-coordinated and just as soft, seeing as you had kept rolling even when the bed had collapsed into itself. “My bed…” You looked up, hopefully. “Could you all--” But they disappeared in a flash. It seems their time was up already. Drat.

Well, at least you had a better bed.