May - 2012 (T.W.G.)

by The Writer's Group

The Dangers of Drunk Darning - Kavonde

Author: Kavonde

Prompt: Rarity makes gloves, but nopony knows what to use them for.

Title: The Dangers of Drunk Darning

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Sweetie Belle awoke with a start. Somepony was pounding on her door with enthusiasm. She glanced out the window; the moon was still out, and she guessed it was around three in the morning. Grumbling, she slid out of bed, clopped across the room, and twisted the knob. Then she dodged quickly out of the way as Rarity, her weight resting on the previously closed door, nearly stumbled right over her.

“Uh...Rarity?” the foal asked cautiously as her sister reeled to a stop. “Are you okay?”

“M'fine, m'fine! C'mon, gotta show ya this.”

Sweetie didn't move. “Are you drunk?”

“Sweetie Belle!” Rarity cried in theatrical dismay. “A lady is never drunk. What I am, what I am, is frickin' plastered!”

The foal stared at her sister in stony silence.

“C'mon,” the inebriated unicorn insisted, “gotta show ya this.”

With a sigh, Sweetie Belle followed her sister downstairs.
* * * * * * *

“Behold!” Rarity crowed, her creation hovering unsteadily around her head.

Sweetie Belle stared at it in bafflement. “Um...I really like its...mane?”

“Mane? What?” her sister asked, staring at the object in confusion. “Mane? No mane. S'no mane.”

“I don't see a mane,” Twilight Sparkle slurred from her sprawled position on the couch.

“S'cause there isn't a mane!” Rarity hollered, much too loudly.

“Rarity,” Sweetie Belle said carefully, “what is it?”

“Issfer Spike! Li'l Spikey-Wikey. Cute wi'l Spikey-Wikey.”

“He's totally in love with you,” Twilight called.

“Oh, I know!”

Sweetie cleared her throat. “Um, okay. It's for Spike. What is it?”

“S'...um...s'to keep his claws warm. S'fuzzy.”

“It's for his claws?”

“Eeeyup.”

Twilight snorted. “You sound like Big Mac!”

“Well, duh, s'cause I was, 'cause I was tryin' to!”

Sweetie Belle tugged on her sister's mane, getting her attention. “Okay, Rarity? Rarity, listen to me closely.”

She grunted.

“Spike--”

“Wi'l Spikey-Wikey.”

The foal rolled her eyes. “Wi'l Spikey-Wikey. How many claws does he have?”

Rarity suddenly looked fiercely thoughtful.

“He's got four!” Twilight shouted.

“Okay,” Sweetie Belle said. “How many claw...sleeve...things does this thing have?”

Rarity stared at it intensely. “Stop movin' it aroun', Sweetie.”

“I'm not even...you're...argh.” She rubbed her temple. “Five, Rarity. It has five.”

The older unicorn kept staring at it for a moment longer, then snorted and fell over on her side, heaving out extremely unladylike guffaws. Twilight looked up and examined the object for a second before belting out a laugh so hard that it knocked her off the couch. Both ponies lay on the floor, giggling uncontrollably.

“Wha's goin' on?” Fluttershy asked blearily from under the table.

Sweetie Belle shook her head and trotted back upstairs. “Confound these ponies,” she muttered darkly.