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Act I2,058 words
Act II2,045 words
Act III2,007 words
Act IV1,540 words
Act V1,007 words
Credits37 words

Act I

Scootaloo rifled through her wardrobe, desperately searching. "Come on, something must be in here!" she asked, in frustration, looking for something that didn't seem to be there.

The Fall Formal was always a time of frustration for the students of Canterlot High, mainly because it meant having to wear something different to normal, and the dress code for the event was very strict; tuxedos or grey suits for the boys, and skirts or dresses for the girls. This presented a challenge for Scootaloo, as she normally detested wearing the very items of clothing required of her that night, but her friends were going, as was Rumble, and so she didn't want to miss out. Just then, she came across the outfit she had worn a year ago, at the previous Fall Formal; a pink (ish) skirt with a purple blouse, with sleeves that fell to her elbows. "Found it!" she exclaimed. It was what she had worn previously, but she didn't really care. After all, she could move in it pretty easily, and at least she could see her feet. That, admittedly, was extremely important for her, and Scootaloo would never be comfortable wearing something in which she had no clue where she was going. Slipping the shirt of the hanger and unfolding the skirt, she quickly got undressed and slipped the shirt over her head, sliding her arms down the sleeves with a little difficulty. She then pulled the skirt on and added the boots that went with it, before adjusting her wardrobe door and looking for a moment in it.

It then ocurred to her that something somehow didn't sit right. In response, she rolled the sleeves down a bit to see if that corrected the problem, but somehow there was something that didn't seem quite right about her outfit. Maybe a second opinion would help, and so Scootaloo went through the corridor to find her mom.

Cheerilee was in her room, which also doubled as her office at home, hastily preparing things for the Fall Formal. Paperwork, notices, boxes, orders to sign for, things to check, plastic for fridges, metal for bridges, quotations from the 1988 British Rail advert, and many other myriad and odd things were lying around. Cheerilee's pen was working double time in order to keep up, when the pile at last seemed to grow a little smaller.

"Why does paperwork never end?" Cheerilee grumbled to herself. "I swear the only time I sign things three times is because the first two signatures somehow get lost!" She fired off some more signatures, and the pile depleted some more.

"Hi mom!" Scootaloo called. Cheerilee swung her chair round, and her frown dissipated almost immediately, as it was always a delight for her to spend time with her daughter.

"Good afternoon Scootaloo!" Cheerilee called back. "Did you want to see me?"

"I'd like a second opinion on something," Scootaloo said, before stepping around the bed and stopping, so Cheerilee could see her clearly. "How do I look?" she asked, striking a pose as she did so.

Cheerilee frowned, getting up and taking a quick look at Scootaloo's clothes. She also pulled on the sleeves of her shirt, to see if there was any bunched material. But there was not. That was them at full length. "If I were to be honest Scootaloo," she said, "the sleeves and skirt look a bit short on you. Have you grown since you last wore that?"

Scootaloo went red almost immediately. "Err, maybe?" she replied.

"Maybe Rarity could put something together for you," Cheerilee suggested. Upon seeing the sad look upon her daughter's face, she spoke quickly again. "I understand that outfit means a lot to you-"

"Are you kidding? I had my first kiss wearing this!"

"-if I may finish Scootaloo," Cheerilee continued. "But we did throw it together at very short notice. Maybe something purpose made would suit you better."

Scootaloo sighed. "OK mom. I'll go get changed and over to Rarity's place. I'll check in with Sweetie Belle whilst I'm there."

There was a loud click as Scootaloo left the room, and Cheerilee turned back to her work, sighing. "Maybe I'll get this lot done before Doomsday or the Fall Formal, whichever comes first," she groaned, her hand feeling sore again from writing her name over and over again. Seriously, there were people still calling her Miss MacLeod!

Her train of thought was interrupted by the sound of the main door closing. She got up, and ran over to it, opening it and saw her daughter sprinting down the path to the streetcar stop. "Scootaloo!" she called.

Scootaloo skidded to a stop, and looked over to her mom. "Yes mom?" she asked.

"I think you've forgotten something," Cheerilee sighed. "As a matter of fact, you've forgotten several things, the first of which being what you're wearing."

Scootaloo looked down at herself, onto to suddenly realise she was still wearing the shirt and skirt from last year. "Oh!" she said. "Right!" Before she could say anything else, or anybody else could say anything for that matter, she ran past Cheerilee and went back indoors. A few minutes after that, she re-emerged, dressed as she normally did; hoodie, turquoise shirt, green shorts, and grey boots, and sped for the streetcar stop.

"Don't forget your wallet!" Cheerilee called.

"I've got it!" Scootaloo called, and hopped aboard the waiting streetcar, which then pulled away from the platform and off toward school. Cheerilee simply laughed and went back indoors. She loved Scootaloo to bits (frankly, what mother wouldn't love their daughter?) but even with her husband now based out of Canterlot, he wasn't about as much as he could be thanks to the Air Force. As a result, she was the primary caregiver for Scootaloo, and boy could she be a handful at times.

"Oh well, those papers won't finish themselves," she sighed, and went back indoors, to wrestle with yet more papers to sign. It was a thankless task, but somebody had to do it!

Carousel Boutique, as Rarity's house was sometimes nicknamed, was the usual hive of activity it was before the Fall Formal. She had a backlog of dresses to distribute, and the order pile was at last coming to an end. Sewing machines hummed and clattered as fabric was stitched together, every conceivable combination of colours rattling through the rapidly working needles that attached them into new forms. Rarity had to keep on her toes in order to ensure that all worked efficiently. A single jammed needle could result in delays, and that was simply not acceptable. In the other room, Sweetie Belle was checking her dress from last year still fitted her.

"That seems fine," she said, with a smile. Just then, there was a knock at the door, which she went to answer. Forgetting she had no footwear on, and was simply in her socks, she sprinted over and pulled the door open. On the other side was a very hot Scootaloo.

"Hi Sweetie Belle!" she said, pulling her hoodie off, and wrapping it around her arm. "Is Rarity in?"

"Yeah, she's in the sewing room," Sweetie Belle replied. "Why?"

"I need a new dress for the Fall Formal," Scootaloo replied, shrugging her shoulders. "My one from last year didn't fit."

"Well, you do eat a lot," Sweetie Belle joked.

"Hey!" the violet haired girl exclaimed. "So do you, according to Rarity."

"Point taken," Sweetie Belle sighed. "She's possibly not in the best of moods at the moment, so go carefully."

There was a loud bang. "Do not tell me who to be annoyed with!" shouted the voice of Rarity.

Sweetie Belle shook her head. "If she's shouting at the machines, she must be cross."

Scootaloo stepped to the door, and opened it slowly. "No time like the present," she sighed, and stepped in.

Rarity was standing in the midst of what could only be described as organised chaos. Clothing was lying all over the place, and her hair was all over the place, sticking out in every direction of the compass and yet more.

"Erm, hi?" Scootaloo asked. Rarity turned around, with anger on her face which was almost immediately replaced with a forced smile and a vague attempt to look somewhat presentable.

"Why hello, Mistress Collins!" she exclaimed. "Tell me, what can I do for thee today?"

Scootaloo shook her head. "Rarity, you can call me Scootaloo," she sighed. "Anyway, I'm sorry that it's such a short notice request, but I was wondering if you could make me a dress."

The look of surprise on Rarity's face said plenty about how she felt about what had been said. "Oh darling!" she exclaimed. "I knew one day you'd discover your feminine side!"

The younger girl sighed. "It's for the Fall Formal. My one from last year no longer fits properly."

"Ah, that monstrous carbunkle!" Rarity snorted. "I must say it was an exceptionally poor match for you, to be honest. Something longer would work better."

"You know, I was just hoping you could make the same thing in a bigger size." Scootaloo hoped her request would be listened to, waiting for a moment until Rarity seemed to be ready to reply. That hope was shattered a few moments later, when Rarity finally answered her question.

"Most certainly not! A lady such as yourself deserves to look far more fabulous. Whatever would Rumble think of you turning up in something as trashy as that?"

"He seemed to like it last year," Scootaloo replied, but it seemed Rarity had not paid any attention to a word she had said, as she set about drawing something on a board. It had curves in it, which caused Scootaloo to start to dread whatever it was Rarity had planned.

"All done!" Rarity exclaimed, and flipped the board over. Scootaloo facepalmed at what was on it. The suggestion that Rarity had done was something that looked like something out of a Disney movie, with a huge skirt and overblown sleeves that vaguely resembled something she had seen somewhere before. "It's a look that's loosely inspired by the gown worn by Giselle in Enchanted. What do you think?"

Scootaloo growled. "First, I've never seen that film, so I've no idea what that means. Second, I'd rather be able to see my feet. Finally, it's far too girly."

Rarity looked sadly at her. "That's a pity, but I understand. But if I don't know what you want, I cannot make you anything for the Fall Formal."

"That's fine," Scootaloo replied, going through the door as she did so. "I'll just go as I'm dressed now."

On her way over to the streetcar stop, Scootaloo walked into a familar face. The sweet face and purple eyes of Rumble always made her blush a bit. "Hey Rumble," she said, with an awkward grin.

"Nice to see you too, Scoots," Rumble replied. "So, how are you going to the Fall Formal?"

"As I am now," she replied, with a sigh. "What I wore last year doesn't fit me anymore, and Rarity came up with some ridiculous frock I wouldn't be seen dead in."

Rumble sighed, looking at the floor before looking into her eyes and definitely not at her chest. "That's a pity. You looked cute in that."

"You really think so?"

The boy nodded. "Seriously, you should try wearing dresses more often."

"No way!" Scootaloo exclaimed, suddenly looking quite hot and bothered. "I would never wear one of those things by choice!"

Just then the streetcar rumbled in, and Scootaloo hopped aboard. "See ya there Rumble!" she called, as the streetcar pulled away.

Rumlbe nodded sadly. "Yeah, see you," he sighed. He worried she wouldn't be let in, and he had happy memories of that Fall Formal a year ago, the day he kissed a girl for the first time and that very girl confessed her love to him. He set off down the street, strolling toward his home to get his suit ready for tonight.

Elsewhere, Rarity was getting her own outfit on, which was one of her classy yet elegant pieces that was simple and yet not overblown. "Well, let us be on our way!" she said, heading out of the door. As she did so, a spark flew out of her hand and hit an item of fabric behind her.

Author's Note:

Cheerilee's experience is loosely based on my experience in education. The number of forms we had to sign was ridiculous...

Next chapter: the Fall Formal!

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