Life in Rarity's Kitchen

by Zytharros

I'm a What?

You know the whole start of the story, so I’m not going to tell you it. I’m John Smith, your stereotypical brony. You know the type – the life-sucks loner sequestered in his room looking at pony all day long, gaining my only joy and happiness from Friendship is Magic. I’ve been through the motions, the being dropped into Equestria by a conveniently-forgotten and ill-contrived plot device, the meeting with the Mane Six, the sleeping with the Mane Six, the grand adventure, the epic battle against the evil villain, the receipt of a key eternal for gaining access to Equestria whenever I please, the six pledges of unrequited love in a beautiful, personal harem of pony…

At least, that’s what I would love to tell you.

Instead, I get to tell you that I’ve met more people of Equestria than I care to admit, no one knows my name, the only adventures I get are from the cupboard to the table or lounge hall to the sink and back, and that I will never ever get back to Earth or leave this house except in a garbage bag.

What a nightmare! Here I was… middling in school, getting ready for college, on the verge of graduation, and able to communicate on a bit of what I felt was a prehistoric level with whoever would give me the time of day, when I woke up in complete and utter blackness. Confused, I tried to lift myself up out of my bed. I couldn’t. I couldn’t even feel my arms, legs, neck, or anything remotely human or even limb-like. Oh, I had eyes, and they darted around like wildfire trying to figure out my predicament from within whatever paralyzed hellhole I had just discovered.

It was then she opened the doors.

At first, I was blinded by the sudden flash of daylight. Slowly, however, her silhouette appeared, and then every inch of her immaculate beauty revealed itself to me. Rarity, the pony of my dreams! The one I had written many fan fictions about making sweet love to… the one who I had constantly obsessed over… the one who provided the model for a sexy image of her dressed in socks and soaked in the rain as the bedspread for the multitude of her gorgeous pony self in icon form… she was now staring at me, live and in-person… pony… whatever!

The only problem I had was she was at least three hundred feet tall!

Suddenly, I found myself whisked up and out of the cupboard, surrounded by glowing blue magic. I longed to jump out of my skin, longed to take her and ravish her with my manly ways, leaving her beautiful body in a bed of benevolent bonding, and I tried to express to her my undying love. However, she didn’t seem to hear me, much less understand me. She set me down gently on a hard surface. I fully expected a make-out session, so I closed my eyes and… well, puckered what I thought were my lips in preparation for her wickedly-hot mouth to crash into mine with the ecstasy of a train blowing through a doughnut.

Instead she threw spaghetti and hay balls all over me.

I was shocked. I had never expected this kind of treatment, especially from a pony as sophisticated and, in my head-canon slutty, as Rarity. I tried to let her have a piece of my mind, but she slowly brought forward a fork, pointed directly at me. I screamed and braced for the impact. However, no impact came, and I watched as Rarity slowly, deliberately, and carefully ate the delicious-looking meal off my body. Maybe this was in preparation for something more intimate later? I had no idea at this point what was happening, but something began filling me with dread.

I was lifted off the table and carried to the sink. She set me aside and turned on the tap. I watched her begin to do the dishes…

Then it hit me.

I was a bucking plate.

I had dreamed of coming to Equestria, meeting the ponies of my dreams, and going on wild romps and adventures with them. I even went so far as to dedicate myself to studying the rituals of love-making between horses to get it down just right for when my time inevitably came. Now, I would be able to do none of that. No adventures, no love-making, nothing, just set, clean, dry, put away.

Dammit.

So, as I predicted, I too got my turn in the sink. The bath was nice. It allowed me to enjoy myself for a little bit as I was washed all over the place. I don’t think I had ever been this clean on Earth. I’ll give compliments to Rarity – she really knows how to make a man-dish feel good. Washing the front, the back, and around my rim… it was wonderful being washed by the pony of my dreams. I guess you could say she gave my rim a shot…

…did I just…? I can’t believe… I’m terribly sorry… Man-Dish!? What am I thinking??

Of course, then, it was into the cupboard to wait for another time of use. That black prison I have come to hate the most. It gives me way too much time to think. Sometimes it wanders into dark areas about me giving up and just up and dying. Sometimes I reflect on the happy stuff that happened that day, the stuff I’m able to observe while on the table. Sometimes I just get bored, wondering what everyone on Earth is doing and missing my family and friends. They’ve likely all moved on without me…

Unfortunately, there’s nothing I can do about it.

I relish my time on the table. I love being able to watch from the table and observe the goings-on in Rarity’s abode. Sometimes she has a friend over and sometimes I’m selected to be the dish of honor that carries in the hors d’oeuvres she selects. When I’m given the opportunity, I really try to shine with whatever strength I can. I’m usually ignored in favour of the food I carry, but I still try to do my best.

My absolute favourite times, however, are those days when it’s just me and Rarity eating together. She doesn’t know I’m a sentient plate or that I’m a human trapped in said sentient plate. I usually try talking with her at the time, commenting on the food she’s placed on me or her mane-style, or some of the new outfits I observe through whatever cracks I can peer through. Although I know she can’t hear me, I like to believe she can. It keeps me sane. It keeps me alive. It puts off the torture of loneliness.

I still wish things could have turned out for the better. I still wish I could join them on adventures. I still hope for the day when I can break free of this prison. It’s been a year of this, and all I can think about are trying to make some friends, never mind all the other stuff I count as frills now. I’m tired of simply living as if everything happens to me. I want to happen now.

I remember back on Earth how my family was always fighting over some little thing, and now I realize it was simply because I would never give in. I should’ve just gone along with some things. Now I’m in the land of my dreams as an inanimate object, unable to do anything but simply be manipulated and sit there and stew over having done nothing.

Suddenly, a very not-Rarity voice emerges into my head. A flash appeared beyond the crack.

“Human, you have learned a valuable lesson today,” the not-Rarity says, opening the cupboard.

I had gotten used to the light transitions, so this one didn’t hurt as much as the first. Who opens the cupboard this time is a shock, though.

“Princess Celestia!!” I shout. “No way! But… why? How?”

I notice that every last member of the main cast, plus both princesses and a few other minor characters are present in Rarity’s at the time.

“Too many times we have let humans into our world who have used their powers of mind control to break our wills and make us their personal servants,” she says. “I knew you would attempt to do the same thing. So, when I found you unconscious in Everfree, I had to take drastic measures to prevent it from happening again in your case. I took your body and put it in stasis while I discussed with Twilight and her friends how best to prevent another catastrophe at the hands of an overenthusiastic fan. After a few days, we decided it would be best if you were to be placed under the supervision of one of the Elements of Harmony in a way you could not manipulate anyone. Another day or two resulted in Rarity volunteering one of her favourite plates for the task, to which we all agreed. I placed your soul in this plate until you could respect us as equals, and not simply as dolls.”

“I have to admit, having a dish talk to me and observe me was… quite an experience,” Rarity says. “I do apologize for doing this to you as well as deceiving you into believing I could not hear you, but you must understand… I am quite tired of being referred to as or made to be a less-than-classy woman. I do have a reputation to uphold, after all, as a lady with an air of class and grace. I could not have yet another human bragging about more than cordial, platonic affairs that were not earned through hard work and friendship. Not this time.”

I can’t believe my ears. I can’t believe this had all been planned out. I can’t believe this was all set up. I am filled with rage, hotter and madder than I had ever been before.

“You all suck!” I scream. “You are the fucking worst piles of shit I have ever had the chance to meet in this damn world! I wanted to come here and be fucking welcomed, not thrown into a plate and left to rot for a whole goddamn fucking year as the world moved on around me! This is unjust imprisonment! Forget you, bitches. Fuck all of you… I want to go back home, back to my family who cares about me…”

Twilight spoke up. “But we do! That’s why we put you in the plate! We wanted to be able to develop a normal friendship with you, without the chance of you going all ‘horny school kid’ on us. We can’t get you home. We’ve honestly tried. There’s no spell in all of Equestria that can send you back.”

Applejack says, concerned, “Look, sugarcube… Ah felt jus’ as bad as everyone else here for doin’ it to ya, but with history an’ all showin’ what young’uns like you from Earth have done to us, we didn’t feel like takin’ any chances with y’all. This was the best we could come up with.”

“We’re sorry…” Fluttershy says apologetically. “P-please don’t be mad…”

“Oh, I’m way past mad, Flutterbitch…” I seethe, “Way, way, way past mad!”

She squeaks and slinks slowly behind Applejack, who snorts.

“Now that was downright uncalled for!” she exclaims. “Apologize to poor Fluttershy! You shoulda known she’s sensitive to those kinds of things!”

“I’ll stop being mad when I start being respected,” I demand. “Get me out of this fucking form!”

Princess Celestia sighs. “Not until you learn how to treat everyone else properly. If you don’t stop now, I’ll be forced to extend your stay in that plate. I don’t want to, but if you force me, I will.”

“What ghastly language…” Rarity says. “Celestia, would you mind if I asked you to transfer him to one of my older plates so you can do something with him, like put him in the darkest corner of the farthest cell away from anything that lives or breathes?”

“You…” I begin. My rage has built to critical mass.

“Now Rarity, that won’t teach him anything,” Celestia scolds.

“Fucking bitches!!” I screech. “Let me out of this form right now! Let me out! You’re evil! You’re all evil! Fucking whorebags!”

She looks at me sadly. “You have learned nothing, have you? Fine. Remember: this is now your own doing. I gave you a chance, and this is what the alternative was. You are sentenced to spend the next five years as a listening plate.”
Her horn glows. The light goes out. All I can hear is them talking. I try to scream, try to writhe in my furious, angry state, try to do anything to get them to get me out. No sound comes. No light comes. I am, quite literally, a listening plate. I can do nothing else.

This is my fate for the next

five

years.

I pout. All my dreams are fading away. All my hopes, anticipations, dreams, wishes… every last one… are disappearing like the morning dew on a summer day.

Getting angry didn’t help me. Not here. It never did.

Every time I got angry with someone, I got slugged, beat up, verbally turned inside out, stripped of all my self-worth and ran back home, crying to mommy. I was a wimp. I still am a wimp.

Maybe I’m a wimp because of my anger problems?

No, this is their fault. Their fault. Their-
…

No.

…

No, it’s all mine.

I wanted more than they were willing to give. I wanted to force them to love me. I didn’t want hard work to earn it. I just wanted it now.

Friendships don’t work that way. Never have. My best friend Jane Doe would tell me the same thing. I have to put some elbow grease to get them to open their hearts well before I get to open their legs. Some I may never get that kind of opportunity with, and I should respect that.

But I haven’t. I wanted the quick and the dirty now, and that’s… that’s just plain uncool.

…

I see what Celestia’s getting at.

I know why I’m locked away.

…

I’ve been a bad colt, and my only chance at redemption just locked me away for five years. They knew I was here. They knew I needed to grow up some more. They knew…

And I just ran over them all.

Dammit, John, you’re such a douche…

Celestia, if you can hear this, I’m sorry for being such a pompous jackass. Please let me out so I can do this friendship thing the right way… and maybe earn my way into their va…

No, that’s not right. I gotta stop thinking like that.

…earn my way into their hearts, if they’ll have me, and only if they’ll have me.

Celestia, I don’t think I can stay in this plate for five years. If you have any mercy in you, please, let me out next month. I know I’ve got a lot to learn, and I’d be happy to live my life as an Earth pony to learn it, even though I would much rather be a pegasus or a unicorn.

Please honour my request.

Your faithful student…
John Smith.

Comments

[IncoherentOrange]

The infinitely rediculous adventures of the Equestrian dish-man. I found this funny, a nice unfortunately-less-than-blatant parody of the HiE genre, which I happen to dabble in and completely agree with this viewpoint, as I recieve it. Dear colleagues, stop making up excuses for your human SI/OC to get with one of the Mane Six, ninety percent of the time (I'm being generous here) it is... A. Stupid. B. Out of character. C. Stressed or forced, D. A romantic tumor. Or any combination.

[Tarot Card]

not bad, not bad. I do think that you hit on an important topic of people writing stories for wish fulfillment. The concept is pretty unique, although, something I would expect out of Blueshift

[CoastalSarv]

This. This is the shit. Thanks for writing this!

[Aru]

Nice story indeed. But i wonder...how anybody can name himself a "fan of the show" forcing ponies to become servants? Damnn....

[Mr V]

Interesting. I find the idea of a plate going on a rage filled tirade to be the funniest part of the story.
What's less funny is how correct he was.
Imprisoned without committing any crime + being understandably angry = "Okay, we gave you a chance, time for years of unparalleled mental torture."

I can imagine the next installment.
"Why is the plate tapping like that?"
"I think it's Morse code."
"What's he saying?"

"...
'Kill me.'
Over and over.
... 'Kill me.' "

[Hecatia]

I laugh way too hard for some reason.
But heck who one to get stuck in a plate for more than a year? God that must be terrible....

[Foregrip Butterfly]

da fuq?

[HorseWizard]

This is both funny and dark at the same time, and kind of reminds me of the song One by Metallica

[Baked Brony]

I would have not freaked out and when they let me out I would just run off into the everfree forest and live there FUCK YOU BITCHES

[Schillok]

I like HiE stories. And this one feels like the just return for all the times when the rude/violent/aggressive seems to go along so well with our favorite (peaceful) ponies, usually without the ponies having a reason to be nice to said human.
I'd rather see this particular specimen be a plate for another 5 years then risking him destroying pony society and values with just his presence...

[Lloxie]

....o.0 Normally I enjoy a good WTF story, since a lot of times they are quite funny. This, however... meh. Didn't care for it at all.

[Multiversity]

...

Y'know, a week ago I came across a crossover between MLP and a webcomic whose name escapes me--Brave, I think--and I praised the author, saying that it was the very last thing I'd ever expected.

Then I read this. Just... I... wha...? A plate? Just... why?

[Zytharros]

832784
Three words.
'Cuz I could.

[LeafBug]

I think that being trapped in a PLATE for a YEAR is pretty just cause for anger. A lot of anger.

Celestia sucks at coming up with punishments. Turning people into inanimate objects is not the way to teach them a lesson, you dumb broad.
And you wonder why Discord wants to wipe Equestria off the face of the planet.

I don't think I would let go of my anger for her or any of the ponies after being trapped for a further five years as a plate that can't even talk. In fact, I think I would spend the vast majority of it thinking of plans for a Coup d'état.

Or genocide.

[Freescript the Bard]

I think if I was ever trapped as a plate, I would just go mad...

Here comes the servant
to make up your bed
Here comes the chopper
to chop off your head...

Chop... chop... chop... chop... chop... chop... chop... chop... chop... chop...

[Feurisson]

I would like to see a continuation of this.

[Zytharros]

1515784
Believe it or not, you may get your wish... We'll see what my mind says.

730882
743208
I'm coming up with something special based on 1238596's response.

[Parametric Ponymorphism]

I was expecting funny. That wasn't funny.

This story needs a 'dark' tag. And an 'evil' tag. And a 'high octane nightmare fuel' tag.

[strijer987]

i could imagine, john going joker style crazy afterward, so it is like he says he learned his lesson then hates there guts make then feel guilty and just generally hating everypony and not wanting to do anything to them and just hate them and cause mass guilt

[WiseFireCracker]

Two words: Surprise. Creepy.

...holy crap, that was a lot more disturbing than I ever expected it to be. I agree with the idea that a Dark tag is needed here...

[Alex_]

Please continue this. I find it strangely addictive.

[HatePlow]

I can totally see one of two endings for this.
1. He becomes mute or too traumatized to speak.
2. He immediately offs himself after being freed from the form.

[BaneHardy]

I wouldn't be surprised that if after he gets released he becomes a serial killer and tries to kill the princess and the mane six. Also, maybe he could sympathize with discord? After being trapped in stone for a much longer time and all...

[Snowstreak]

This isn't your average HiE. This is a lot more... palatable. Something I can stomach. Variety is the spice of life, as they say. Gives flavor to the story.

It's too bad John couldn't take it, but he sure could dish it out! The tension was so thick, you could cut it with a knife. And then his reaction... well, back into the frying pan, right?

Okay, okay, I'll stop. It's not punny any more.

[no longer on]

WARNING!!
Nightmares Ensue. Plain creepy.

[gerennez]

3261967 I agree completely

[Phenoix12]

Insanity ensues

[Queuefka Palazzo]

730826

Easy.

Not everyone is a moralfag.

[Doctah WAAwee]

Well...

At least you put food on the table.

[Doctah WAAwee]

You had every right to be pissed bro. But...he could have tried screaming to get out of plate form. Screaming always makes you stronger.

[Doctah WAAwee]

833398 My reaction to the 'reason' they turned him into a plate:

static4.wikia.nocookie.net/__cb20130808053835/teentitansgo/images/2/23/Robin_mad_about_the_broken_staff.png

If Celestia had the power to turn him into a dinner plate, then she could of have easily found a different way to prevent the whole 'horny school kid' scenario:

1. Locking his libido
2. Taking away his memory for a spell.
3. Locking away the knowledge of the show.
4. Locking away his so-called 'mind-control' powers.

His reaction was completely and utterly reasonable. what they did to him was cruel and unusual punishment.

But, this is all in fun, so bravo. But if he turns into the porcelain equivalent of the Sandman, I totally called it.

[jpony5101]

3597870 bu dum tish

[Tzelael]

"Instead she threw spaghetti and hay balls all over me."
"she threw spaghetti and hay balls"
"she threw spaghetti"
"spaghetti"

...

That actually describes John pretty well. Nice touch.

[Headlock1_0]

The language was a bit much, but I understand it adds to the emotion. Good story for the most part.