//------------------------------// // Part 2: The Day Begins // Story: Diamond Tiara: Foalsitter For Hire // by deadpansnarker //------------------------------// Silver Spoon almost choked on a stray blueberry in her muffin when she heard about my plans for the following day. "W-what?!" She coughed, delicately wiping her mouth with a serviette to preserve her dignity. "I know desperate times call for desperate measures, but this is ridiculous. For one thing, you don't know the first thing about the foal care..." "I'm a quick learner, and besides... what's so hard about looking after a couple of little ponies for a day?" I squirmed a bit in my seat, unsure what had felt more uncomfortable: being immersed in frozen diary produce, or coated in alligator spittle. At least the latter was invisible to the naked eye, which was all I needed to avoid my mother's wrath. Good enough. "Well, plenty. Especially those two. I shouldn't really be telling you this, but... I've heard rumours." Silver Spoon covertly glanced from left to right, before leaning over the table to whisper something in my ear. "Apparently, Pound and Pumpkin Cake are somewhat... advanced for their years, and even caused Pinkie lots of problems when she sat for them soon after their arrival. Who knows how much of a hoofful they'll prove for somepony much younger. I'm not saying any of this is fact, just... be careful." "Honesly, Silv, I'll be fine." I chuckled half-heartedly, unwilling to show that her ominous words had drained my confidence a notch. "Also, why are you acting so secretive? This is hardly a spy novel, and you're not exactly James Pony. Try not to be so paranoid..." "You forget, this is Pinkie Pie we're talking about here..." she continued to exercise maximum caution, staring at a nearby trash can, as if the party pony could pop up out of it any minute. "There are those that say she transcends time and space itself. If that indeed is true, I wouldn't be surprised if she were eavesdropping on us right now..." "Really, Silv. You must stop with all the weird conspiracy theories. You're beginning to sound like one of those deranged basement dwellers." I didn't want to come across as too harsh, but sometimes she did overthink things a tad. "Anyway, my ice cream is getting col- I mean, warm, so if you don't mind, I'd quite like to eat it before it becomes a yogurt, if it's all the same to you..." "Alright, Di. Just don't say I didn't warn you, when you're climbing the walls later on..." Silver Spoon bore me the sympathetic gaze of somepony who didn't know what she was getting herself into. I might have a few misgivings myself, but whatever. A filly's gotta do... Anyway, right now I should be focusing on unwinding after my unpleasant morning of being lectured non-stop by the Wicked Nag Of The South. Let's hope the old adage is true: Ice cream blows all your cares away. I was just about to deposit the first dollop of delicious into my ailing mouth, when I spotted something shuffling out of the corner of my eye. Was it just my imagination, or did that bush over there... move an inch? Oh no, it's finally happened. My best friend has infected me with her perpetual neuroses. Thanks a lot, Silv. ........................................................................................................................ After a few more aimless hours of pottering around town and lots of trivial chit-chat about what's hot and what's not, me and Silver Spoon finally parted company at my gate, although she couldn't resist a final "You'll be sorry..." as she faded into the distance. Oh, she of little faith. I'll show her! I'll show them all... Oops, did that sound a little crazy back there? Regardless, I straggled myself to the front door as slowly as I could, trying to make every step last for an eternity. Why? I'll give you three guesses. Actually, one should do it. Well done in advance for being correct. The bane of my existence was currently in the kitchen as I entered the large hallway. Cooking? You must be joking... she was haranguing the head culinarian for the unforgivable crime of putting a pinch too much salt in the soup. I feel for you, Master Chef. I hope you get a good severance package in the morning. More in hope than expectation, I tip-hoofed up the stairs, praying to Celestia that her rendezvous with the doomed servant would provide ample distraction while I made good my escape. No such luck. Her organs of hearing were almost as sensitive as her sense of smell, which was massively heightened for... obvious reasons. "Diamond Tiara? Is that you, dear? Come here this instant." I sighed in frustration, but decided that obeying mother was far preferable than her actually coming upstairs and dragging me back here. Which she's done before, believe it or not. I know, it's a stretch."Yes, Mother. I'm coming." Sauntering back to the ground floor, I crossed paths with her just as she left the kitchen, the distraught face of her latest entry into the dole queue being the last thing I saw before she shut the door. She eyed me suspiciously as I approached, then, when I was within firing range, grabbed me without warning and began to run her hooves roughly through my fur. "H-hey, what do you think you're doing?!" I struggled in her grasp, but it was to no avail. She was obviously determined to check me thoroughly over for some as yet unknown reason, and she wouldn't stop probing until I'd been given the third degree. Possibly the fourth, too. "The high-class mares from the bridge club are coming over tonight..." She forced my jaw open, examining each tooth individually. "I want you to look at your best, not like your father, who's hooves were covered in mud when he came back from the golf course. I know his first name is Filthy, but he needn't have taken the term quite so literally..." "Fadder woz dertee?" I attempted to speak, but it's hard to enunciate when your tongue is being held up by your mother, as she pokes around for any microscopic food particles in your mouth. "Really dear, please don't talk while I'm trying to help me-I mean, you..." She'd now reached my mane, and was separating and yanking it uncomfortably. "Yes, he returned from his game looking like somepony who'd been dragged through a hedge backwards, and then forwards again. Disgusting, it was. Needless to say, we won't be seeing him for the rest of the evening. We'll show him how to make an impression, darling..." Now, if you'd told almost anypony outside our town that a hard-nosed business stallion like my father could be grounded by his wife, they'd have laughed in your face. You can't really blame them, after all... ponies like Mom only come along once in a Luna blue moon. That wasn't meant as a compliment, by the way. Actually, thinking about it further... it wouldn't be the most shocking thing in the world to discover that Daddy had purposefully got himself mucky on purpose, to avoid having to hob-nob with the pretentious bores at the Grande Dame club my mother was so desperate to charm. Maybe he was more cunning than I gave him credit for... In the meantime, Mom seemed reasonably satisfied with my current appearance. Miracles do exist, it seems. "Well, you don't look perfect, but it's a start. Go upstairs now, and put on your best ballroom gown. The ladies will be here at... hang on a minute, just what is that on your flank?!" It was as I turned to ascend the steps she'd spotted the stain. I found myself elevated into the air, my tail unceremoniously lifted up, and my hind-quarters being scrutinised at close quarters by an angry mare. "Is that... a speck of Ice cream I see on your posterior, my filly?" "M-mother... personal space!!" I blushed as red as a beet, flapping like a fish out of water in her hooves. It wouldn't do any good though... she'd spotted an imperfection, and was in for the kill. "Nonsense, child. I gave birth to you, so your body is just as much yours as it is mine..." She then relocated me to under her right hoof, and I was carried up the steps. Quick march. "W-where are you taking me?" I gasped. All resistance was futile at this stage. "To give you a nice, long, hot bath..." She replied sternly, without bothering to look at me. "Usually, I'd leave such matters to the hired help, but seeing as tonight could be the difference between me being a social elite or pariah, I have little choice but to tackle the unpleasant job myself. We'll start with the buttocks region. I'll scrub every last trace of that peasant concoction off you, just you wait and see..." I mentally cursed myself. If only I hadn't been so picky about where Gummy cleaned me, this might never have happened. Now, I was in line for even more humiliation, and it was nopony's fault but my own. ............................................................................................... I'd rather not dwell on the mortifying experience of spending more than an hour in a lather filled tub, having every product in the history of cosmetics dumped on my drowning form as my mother brusquely washed me everywhere with extreme prejudice. Nor will I bore you with the details of my 'illuminating' evening with the Grande Mare's guild, as Mom kept me at her side all night, forcing me to laugh at her terrible jokes while nudging me in the stomach every so often to avoid my falling into a coma. Let's just skip to the next morning, and me sneaking out of the mansion as the sun rose to begin my first day of meaningful employment. It had totally slipped my mind to tell my mother about my first paying job... actually, that's a lie. If she ever found out her daughter planned to spend the day with icky, sticky foals, my financial difficulties would be the least of my worries. I could just imagine her at this precise moment, cashmere sleep-mask over her eyes, snoring loud enough to raise the dead. If you think she looks a sight during the day, wait 'til you get a peek at her with a mud pack on, exhibiting her tonsils to an unwilling world. Who needs horror movies, when you can see them for free by opening the door to your parents bedroom? As for my far more down-to-earth Father, he usually got up this early anyway, to squeeze in a bit of time to himself before the she-demon arose from her unholy sleep. Newspaper, hot cup of coffee, a padded chair... just one hour of peace, before his day of subjugation began. Without it, he'd probably go insane, and then I'd be stuck with mother all alone while he was carted off to the nut house. It goes without saying, but I had no intention of telling on him. The strange thing was though, as I navigated my way through the grounds, I thought I saw a trace of his black mane from the window, almost as if he was witnessing my egress. When I looked again a split-second later, it was gone. Weird. I thought I'd done enough to creep out undetected, it must just be my mind playing tricks on me again. Spoonie will have me believing in time travel next... I reached my destination, and swung open the door to Sugarcube Corner, all set for a day of fun and frivolity with two little cherubs. I wasn't expecting it to be plain sailing all the way, but if I could cope with life under Mrs Control Freak, surely a couple of adorable foals wouldn't represent too much of an additional challenge, right? Right. The first thing I noticed when I glanced inside was a state of utter disarray. Bags were flying everywhere, Mr and Mrs Cake were rushing about as if their lives depended on it, and in the middle of all the pandemonium was Pinkie, who was uncharacteristically standing stock-still, as if waiting for something. That 'something' was me. The moment I poked my face through the threshold, she galloped over and started shaking me like a fizzy drink, her vocal chords moving at approximately a zillion miles an hour. "Sosorrygottagonotimetoshowyouwhattodotrainarrivingearlierthanwethoughtdon'twannamissitIcan'twaittoseeCheeseSandwich..." "H-hey... h-hey..." the world had suddenly turned into a spinning top. Fortunately, I'd skipped breakfast that morning, otherwise it might be decorating the inside of the shop by now. "I-I c-can't t-tell w-what y-you're s-saying. C-could y-you s-slow d-down a-a b-bit, p-please?" "Oops, sorry..." Pinkie miraculously seemed to regain control of her senses, and dropped me onto the floor. "Basically, the upshot of it is, somepony misread the schedule for the Friendship Express, and we have to leave this second. Hope this doesn't inconvenience you!" "W-what, r-right n-now?" I stammered, still recovering from my unanticipated white knuckle ride at the hooves of my employer. "That's correct! I know you're more than capable of handling things though! Just think of this as an extra test!" Pinkie was already halfway out the front door, but stopped briefly to give me a list. A very long one. "Everything you need to know is written down, in alphabetical order. You better start with the important stuff first. I hope the three of you have a marvelous time, getting to know one another. If you enjoy it, and I'm sure you will, we might even turn it into a regular thing! Well, goodbye!" She took her leave before I'd even finished processing all this new information, and she was quickly followed by the Cakes, but not before they'd proffered their own, far more lucid farewells. "We have complete faith in entrusting you with our young ones, Miss Tiara..." Mr Cake was the first to speak. "If Pinkie Pie recommends you, then that's good enough for us. Incidentally, sorry about her little mix-up over the train timetable. That mare is a hard worker, very popular with the customers, but she can be somewhat disorganised occasionally..." "Anyway, here are our little treasures..." Mrs Cake, without any fanfare whatsoever, dumped her two foals onto my lap. "Make sure you take good care of them, please. If you need any help, any help at all, don't hesitate to contact an older pony. We'll be back later this evening, we promise. Ta-ta for now..." With those parting words, the Cakes were gone, although Mrs Cake had the presence of mind to switch the sign from OPEN to CLOSED on the door before she departed. In a bit of a tizzy at the task I had ahead, I began to consult the list, which was about the same size as an anaconda in length, for clarity. Let's see, A... Always keep your eyes on them... That was when I had my first little hiccup. You see, I shouldn't have been able to read the top of the list at all... there should have been a blonde-tufted female foal and a brown-tufted male foal still residing on the paper. But there wasn't. They'd vanished without a trace... I'd already failed the first rule. Whoops.