//------------------------------// // Simulations, Silly Dreams, and Second Chances // Story: The Cynical Wolf And The Sensitive Sheep // by Robo00 //------------------------------// The Cynical Wolf And The Sensitive Sheep by Robo00 Chapter Two Simulations, Silly Dreams, and Second Chances "No! No! No! No! You're doing it wrong!" "I'm trying my best, Miss Polomare." Drabby is starting to get on my last nerve. She is either walking wrong, having the wrong posture, or just plain lacking. Damn! Why couldn't, i dunno, somepony that can follow simple instructions! Or at least, can FREAKIN' READ! I facehoofed as I never facehoofed before! "This isn't working, you idiot!" I shouted. "You have all the grace of a constipated moose!" All of the sudden, tears started to roll down Drabby's face. She hiccuped a few sobs and started to cry softly. Geez! Even her crying is annoying! I wanted to toss her out right then and there and hire a GOOD model! "Why are you attacking me?" said Drabby, softly. "I'm not attacking you, moron!" That did it! Drabby's tears came down in buckets as she sobbed quietly. "You ARE attacking me." she whined. The tears continued to flow. I really want to throttle her "PULL IT TOGETHER, DUMMY! I WON'T HAVE MY DREAMS CRUSHED BECAUSE OF YOU! " I shouted, causing Drabby to hang her head in shame and cry some more. She can really make a pony feel bad at times. "Fine! We'll try again tomorrow." And with her head held low, Drabby slinked out of my apartment, stopping short for a second. "Um. I hate to ask." said Drabby, not even bothering to turn around. "But what will I be wearing?" CRAP! I've been too busy trying to turn Drabby into modeling material that I forgot to design clothes for her. And I'm the one who supposed to be the fashion designer! "Don't worry." I said, lying through my teeth. "I got everything all straightened out." Not looking terribly assured, Drabby left my apartment building. I slumped down on my couch. Think, Suri, Think. The Expo's in a few weeks and you got nothing. What to do. A smart pony (like me) would "borrow" somepony's else creation. But then the morality cops and the real cops get involved. Maybe there's something in my closet I could use. My closet or as I like to call it, my home away from home. Each one a busted up dream from my past...from when I was stupid. I pulled out a small box that was in the corner. Opening it, I found all of the remnants of my (un) happy foalhood. Geez, why did I have to drag out and open that box. There was a picture of me, mom, and dad. We weren't rich. Actually, we were downright poor. Dad worked long hours at a job that finally killed him. He just keeled over due to his ticker stopped working. And then there was mom, the eternal optimist. Even when dad died, she always said "Things will get better, sweetheart" with that stupid cheese eating grin on her face. When the kids at school teased me for being poor, she'd always tell me to turn the other cheek, which I did. Shame it didn't help mom any. One day, she went nuts and had to be committed. I guess all that optimism wasn't working. Getting annoyed, I put away the box of depression and a white box caught my eye. Oh great, I had to run into "it". Another box of bad memories. My first dress and my first business. I was real happy when...that pony...agreed to go into dress making business. Oh, how I dreamed of that day when I could make clothes that everypony would love. We split everything fifty-fifty. I would design and sew the dresses and she...that pony..would handle the money. We rented a building and set up shop. Nothing could stop us now! Then...that pony...stole all of my designs and ran off. I couldn't pay the rent, lost the building, and now she's a world renowned fashion designer with stores all over Equestria. And here I am, on the bottom with a drab dingdong for a fashion model. Tired of remembering crap I want to forget, I decided to go to bed. Then inspiration hit me, literally. One of my old sketchbooks, placed on the top shelf, fell off and beaned me on the noggin. I was about to toss the stupid thing out the window when I noticed the page it landed on. A brainstorm, no, A BRAIN TYPHOON formed. Yep! While Rarity and Coco bore everypony with their boring clothes, I'll dazzle 'em with sex appeal. Now to build up Drabby's confidence and I know how. Ah! It's a beautiful morning! Today's the day I begin my comeback! I was about to have breakfast when I heard a knock at my door. Yep, it was Drabby, right on cue. Her head was held low (again) as she walked (or more like slumped) into my apartment. "I-I read the books again, Miss Polomare." she said in that voice that was always on the verge of crying. "A-and I'll try my best to get it right." "You sure will," I said, thrusting a big plate of pancakes under Drabby's nose with a big grin on my face. Drabby just stared at the plate, with a "I want to eat it but I can't" look on her face. "Um..." said Drabby. "Are you sure I should be eating such high calorie food. Because I've been reading How to binge and purge your way to a profitable but unhealthy figure, Anorexia made easy and How to be heroin chic for fun and profit and they said..." "Just eat the pancakes, dummy." I said. Drabby dove into the plate with gusto as I brought out my sketchbook. "By the way, you will be wearing this." I gave the sketchbook to Drabby and she had the expected response. She nearly choked on the pancakes she was eating. Her eyes grew big and she started hyperventilating. "T-t-t-t-this is...l-l-l..." "Yep, lingerie! And you're gonna wear it!" "B-b-b-but all this lace a-and bows and garters and...IS THAT A SADDLE?!" Drabby looked like she was going to throw up (after all those pancakes she ate, I hope it's not in my apartment). I just shrugged at her conniption fit. "It's just clothes, geez." "Clothes for the bedroom! Bedroom attire! How can I wear this?! I-it's so...so lewd!" Lewd, huh. That would make for a great marketing slogan. I could see it now! The lewdest clothes in all of Equestria! Heck, I would make big money on the controversy alone! "Well, get over it!" I said to my nervous model. Now, today, we are going to practice in front of an audience." "Huh?! Wearing those?!" "I haven't started making them yet, dummy! Now, meet me at the community center in two hours." "Well, I..." "Good!" I shoved Drabby out the door. Now all I need to do is find a faux audience. Or like a wise pony once said, if you can't find an audience, make one! Taking out my scissors, a couple pieces of cardboard, paint, and a tape recorder, I went to work to create the perfect audience. Like the obedient slave that she was, Drabby arrived right on time. And like always she seemed on the verge of tears (or maybe she always looked and sounded like that). I ran backstage to greet her. We'll have to work fast since in about two hours, we'll be up to our eyeballs in squealing foals. "I'm here, Miss Polomare." said Drabby. "So what do you want me to do?" "Easy!" I said. "Just put what you read into practice." I pulled back the curtain on my (crudely done) audience. A small noise threatened to escape Drabby's lips as she looked over my handiwork. Then she dropped to the floor and started laughing. Maybe the googly eyes were a bit much. "What is so funny?" "I-I'm sorry." said Drabby through her giggling fit. "That cardboard audience looks a little silly." Well, at least she's not hyperventilating. "Well, excuse me for not being a good artist." I snorted. "Now get your butt behind the curtain so I can introduce you." Drabby nodded and took her place behind the curtain. I turned on the tape recorder for some appropriate music and picked up a nearby microphone. "Here is Octavia, modeling a white satin and lace set with saddle." Drabby sauntered out from behind the curtain. Her movements still weren't right. Still stilted, boring, and plain unsexy! Great, this lump of coal in pony form is going to make my sexy, cool clothes look bad. I facehoofed (when dealing with Drabby, it's starting to become a thing) and then cut the music off. "Well," said Drabby with a small smile. "How did I do?" "Two words. YOU SUCK!" Drabby looked like she just been stabbed in the chest. "W-what?!" she stammered. "What did I do wrong?!" She was about to start crying again to make me feel bad. But not this time! "Let's start on the day you were born and work up from there!" I yelled. "You're boring! Have no charisma! Look like a schoolmarm! Have the personality of a tree stump! Not very pretty, and..." "WHY DON'T I KILL MYSELF! WOULD THAT MAKE YOU FEEL BETTER?!" Drabby's breathing was ragged as she stared me down. She was crying (again) but now there was some deep seated anger behind it. I stared at her, slackjawed. Nopony has the cantaloupes to talk back to me (well, almost nopony). "You don't know what it's like," said Drabby, her voice barely a whisper. "Constantly failing, being imperfect, Not living up to expectations. I HATE IT!" She lowered her head. "I-I'm sorry. I-I'll do better next time." "Get some rest." I said with a sigh. "I got clothes to make so we'll try again in two days, got it?" Drabby nodded and left me alone with my cardboard audience. Imagine if the little juice box drinkers came in and seen her little outburst. Wet floor city. I returned home to my crummy apartment, Drabby's words still fresh in my mind, "Constantly failing, being imperfect, Not living up to expectations. I HATE IT!" Part of me wanted to tell her to suck it up, that I have problems, too. But then there is the other half. The part of me that actually felt sorry for her. "You're gettin' soft, Suri." I said to myself. "You know you're gonna dump her the first chance you get." Which is true. There are two types of ponies in this world: The stompers and the stompees and I'm sure I'm not going to be a stompee! Still, Drabby must be going through some issues for her to yell at me like that. My brain was on empty. The expo is in five weeks, I haven't started my clothes, and there is no way I can turn Drabby into a fashion model over night. My thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door. If somepony is trying to sell me on "religious salvation", he has another thing coming. Opening the door, I was surprised to see Drabby standing in front of me. She seemed a little nervous, with her tugging at that bow tie of hers. "Um...hello, Miss Polomare." she said, fidgeting. Heh, reminds me a little bit of Coco. "Dra...I mean, Octavia, what a surprise!" I said with mock glee. Drabby loosened up a bit, probably sensing my false cheer. "I came to apologize again for my outburst." She came all of this way here to that?! All this way just to say "I'm sorry" again?! What is with her? Drabby must have an ulterior motive. "And..." I said, with more than a bit of suspicion. "Well...it's kind of a funny story...you see, I ran into the director of the Manehattan Orchestra while I was doing my laundry. We got around to talking about my stalled career and..." "Get to the point!" "To make a long story short, the director wants me to audition for the orchestra and I would like you there for my audition." Figures. All this way because she wants a cheerleader. "Don't you have any..." "Friends. Not here. The director is very busy and wants to fast track my audition. I'm afraid they won't make it in time." "How about your family?" "..." "I'm very busy myself so if you don't mind..." "Please! It's only for an hour or two. You're the only friend I have." I stared at her for a long time. Drabby considers me a friend, despite knowing me for a week AND chewing her out. You know, at first she reminded me of Coco, a pony (until she stabbed me in the back) eager to please. But looking at her now, I can only see me. The old me. The me I wanted to forget. "You know," I said, coolly. "Classical music isn't my bag." "Well, you don't have to listen." "All I have to do is show up?" "Yes." "Fine. I'll come." Drabby threw herself over me and gave me the biggest hug I ever had. "Oh, thank you!" she said, almost in tears. "Meet me at the Equestria Municipal Theater tomorrow at 11 in the morning." I'm too soft. Well, a happy model is a productive model (hopefully). Shuffling back to my workbench, I started on the fashion line that would propel me to stardom. I pulled out boxes of bows and lace, rolls of cloth, a ruler, and my trusty pair of scissors. Through most of the night I worked. Cutting, sewing, and pasting. Several long dinnerless hours later, I was standing in front of six mannequins clad in the fashions that will take me to the top. "Well, ladies," I said to the silent mannequins. "I've outdone myself." I may be tired and hungry but looking at what I did in seven hours, I have every right to crow about myself. A yawn escaped my lips telling my it was time to hit the hay. I don't want to be late for Drabby's little "recital". As I crawled into bed, I thought back to Drabby's non answer when I asked about her family. Must be have some sort of feud with them. I thought back to my own mom. That cheerful face and her (almost overly) optimistic attitude. "Everything will be alright, Suri." she would say to me. That was before the days when the stress finally got to her and her mind broke. Now she doesn't even recognize me anymore. If all of that junk happened after my fall from grace, I would say it's karma catching up to me. But now doing things by the book, maybe I can think the world isn't out to get me anymore. Maybe.