• Published 19th Jun 2012
  • 1,757 Views, 155 Comments

Cutting Ties - fic Write Off

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A Cut Above

In the lavish city of Manehatten, there lived a posh family of pony elite called the Wundertooshes. A family of such posh, their entire fortune was built on it, for you see, they were a family of fashion modelers. For generations, these specimens of mare and stallion perfection sported the latest and greatest in pony clothing most befitting any upper-crust fop or socialite. Whatever they wore, anypony that was somepony would follow close behind. They practiced their craft well, for in their generations of pristine modeling techniques, they implemented the art of the well-dressed into the upbringing of their own children.

Turn now to the Wundertooshes’ latest male heir: Jacob Divine Wundertoosh the 2nd. The Wundertooshes, being the “model” of proper Manehatten style, set the example of high class by giving their children an extra-fancy foreign first name, such as Jerry, Elaine, and even Newman. However, Jacob didn’t care much for this extra prestige. In fact, it made him all the more miserable, but more on that later.

From a very young age, Jacob was taught, first and foremost, to dress properly, at ALL times. Every day at every hour he was clothed in some fancy attire, for every occasion, including the mundane ones. It would be rather absurd to say anyone has gone through life fully-clothed, but for poor Jacob and the rest of the family, that statement was a fact. Even at birth Jacob was quickly fitted in a newborn’s sports jacket, which his wet nurse constantly reminded him “looked simply smashing.”

Unlike the rest of his family, Jacob didn’t feel entirely comfortable in his decadent clothes. Even though he was dressed to impress, he never felt quite right. One day, as he and his father were out on a fanciful stroll, sporting the freshest of summer stroll wear, Jacob spotted some colts and fillies in a park playing, unclothed. At that pivotal moment, he finally realized what it was that bothered him: he never once experienced life bare!

That very night, he confronted his parents on the matter and asked: “Why do we never take our clothes off?” At first, his parents simply laughed at such an un-posh question. But when they saw the sincerity in their child’s eyes, they became infuriated. “Such questions our child speaks; how un-smashing!” they thought. They scolded little Jacob mercilessly, quelling his unfashionable curiosity in the most devastating display of passive aggressiveness. Poor Jacob was devastated, and with his spirit crushed, he took to his room in a two-layer sleep ensemble.

So it was that Jacob lived his life fully-clothed, adding on more and more layers of unsurpassable style as the years went by. And as did the complexity of his daily attire grow, so too did the misery he repressed deep in his subconscious. That was, until yet another fateful day, or night rather.

It was the biggest socialite gathering of the year. Rich gentry from every corner of industry came to bathe in snootiness and share talk much too fanciful for mortal ears to bear. The main event was the Grand Dinner, in which all the guests sat at the majestic and outlandishly lengthy table that was headed by the hosts of the night: the Wundertooshes.

Jacob, who had grown into a strapping-if-overly-dressed stallion, picked at his delectable yet meager meal in somber thought. While he poked at his peas, a maid passed by, carrying a large platter of silverware. Being a freshly-hired earth pony, the maid struggled to carry the silverware, and at that moment finally succumbed to her spit-polished burden. As cutlery fell and gasps arose, a stray knife flew in the direction of Jacob and planted its sharp edge into the table.

Jacob’s attention was grabbed by another wave of gasps, and he looked before himself to see the cause. In front of him was the planted knife, as well as a flashy and familiar piece of fabric. He quickly came to the realization for everyone’s shock: his tie had been cut! Lifting up his severed tie, Jacob felt himself filling with a strange feeling that grew stronger the longer he stared at it. In moments that seemed to last an eternity, something inside Jacob changed. Something incredible.

With a growing smirk, Jacob dropped the fabric and undid the remnants of the tie around his neck. After a pause, he took off his fancy top hat, followed by his monocle, then his pocket watch, then his overcoat, and so on. The social elites stood in shock and confusion as he continued to lighten himself of his clothes, until nothing but a dress shirt and horseshoes remained. He took a moment to take in the looks of horror and outrage that he had evoked, and then ran for the doors of the banquet hall without a word.

As he made for the lobby of the building, Jacob kicked off his gilded horseshoes proudly for all he passed to see. He made it to the front door and ran out into the darkened streets of the city. The night valet, appalled by the stallion’s behavior, desperately cried out, “Jacob, keep your shirt on!”

Jacob, however, having torn off his remaining garment, responded with a loud, defiant “NO!” He was liberated, and he wanted everyone to know it!

He ran well into the night and eventually reached the verdant greens of the outlying farmlands. There, beneath the glow of the Sun Goddess’s dawn, Jacob felt fully alive for the first time. He eventually made it to small farming town, where his lack of clothing was accepted with much celebration. Jacob dropped all but his first name, and took on the life of a simple turnip farmer. In time he took a fair and kind mare for a wife and had many children. Furthermore, in their household, clothing was always optional.

Thus in one act of buff defiance, Jacob cut all ties to his oppressive lineage, allowing his spirit and vigor to flap freely in the wind. And he lived happily, without regret, until the end of time…

“And that’s why not having clothes is totally awesome!”

Pinkie Pie gave her biggest smile at her stylish listener, who merely stood blinking in silence. Realizing that the party pony was expecting some commentary, Rarity willed herself to come up with a response, mindful of the persisting heat nearby.

“Well, that certainly was an interesting story, dear. But what exactly does that have to do with my house being on fire?” Yards away, a section of the burning boutique’s walls collapsed as though to further emphasize Rarity’s question. Despite the blazing inferno that was once her friend’s home, Pinkie hopped delightedly with a giggle.

“It simply means that there’s more to life than fancy clothes, Rarity. So there’s nothing to worry about!” she said, bouncing some more.

“Yes, well, it’s more than just clothes, though,” Rarity replied. “There was my food, personal effects, my workshop. Not to mention Sweetie Belle—“

“Hey, look at the time: it’s Party o’clock!” Pinkie interrupted, sticking a watch-covered leg in Rarity’s face. “We need to get to Sugar Cube Corner on the double! Gotta turn that frown upside down, and I bet Pound and Pumpkin would wanna help. Come on!”

Pinkie hopped off without delay, leaving Rarity standing in the shadow of her burning house. As the sounds of approaching fire wagons grew to match the chirping of nearby birds, Rarity dropped her head with a defeated sigh.

“Last time I let Pinkie Pie design a dress…”

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