Buying a DOMBÅS

Pound and Pumpkin Cake had been very bad foals indeed. While they had been playing, Pound had knocked over Mrs. Cake's dresser, and Pumpkin then shot at it with a bolt of magic.

Mrs. Cake's apron collection was a total loss.

So with great speed, she headed off to T.J. Maxx in an effort to replace at least several of her favorites from the collection, and instructed her husband to get a new dresser, post haste.

Mr. Cake was at a loss. Several months ago, a portal had opened to a strange magical land known as Missouri, and with it brought many great living comforts, such as self-propelled carriages, an invisible library known as the internet, and the greatest thing of all, department stores. A pony no longer had to walk across town to several different establishments to buy clothes and groceries; one could simply roll up in one of those nifty human carriages and purchase cleaning supplies, miscellaneous household tools, and groceries in one store.

However, there seemed to be a significant lack in furniature products from Missouri. There was that one seedy looking place called "Bob's Discount Furniture," but Mr. Cake had heard many bad things about it.

Thinking over it for some time, Mr. Cake remembered that there was a human who lived in Ponyville who could help him. Pocketing some bits, he headed out (the Twins were being foalsat by Pinkie Pie) and began his search for the human. It didn't take long, as many ponies had questions about Missouri, and Anon appeared to be rather knowledgable about his people.

Mr. Cake queued and listened into the conversation ahead. Bon Bon was asking Anon about a strange human ritual.

"Why are the humans attacking each other?" She asked, showing him a video on her iPad.

"Oh, that's boxing." Anon politely explained. "It's a sport."

"Oh...how do you win?"

"Ah. You knock your opponent out." Anon chuckled. "What?"

"...Barbarians..." She muttered and sulked off.

After a question about language (Cherilee was astonished to find that humans spoke vastly different languages and that English wasn't even the most spoken), Mr. Cake was up.

"Hello, Anon. I need to buy a new dresser for my wife." Mr. Cake explained. "I don't know where to go, though. Rumor has it that Bob's Furniture is lacking in quality."

"The rumors are correct." Anon nodded matter-of-factly. "Bob's sells low quality cheap ass products that will leave you disappointed the second the half-year warranty is up. I do know a good place though. It's called Ikea, they sell all sorts of things. Decorations, toys, matresses, they'll help you remodel your house even. If you need a dresser, they definitely have one. There's one in, uh is it called Trottingham?"

Mr. Cake thanked him politely and headed for the train station.

About an hour later, Mr. Cake found himself in front of an absolute unit of a building. It seemed larger than the Canterlot Castle, and the flat, windowless walls gave an imposing appearance about it. A few ponies and humans trickled in and shrugging, Mr. Cake followed them in.

Automatic doors were rather common in Equestria so Mr. Cake wasn't particularly startled when he saw them. But behind those doors, there was a truly terrifying thing. It looked like a conveyor belt mixed with stairs, but on the edge of the stairs, a jagged edge had been installed. It reminded him of a predator's teeth.

Because Mr. Cake had stopped, humans and ponies began to pile up behind him. A woman wearing short shorts and a sweater gave him a strange look. Mr. Cake took a deep breath, and tried to step on. He was about 50% successful.

His forward hooves had landed on a stair and begun to move forward. However, his rear hooves were still on the ground. In a scene totally not copied from Elf, Mr. Cake rose into the cavernous store, stradling four stairs and looking ready to be sued for copyright infringement.

At the top, a pony handed him a two sided map and welcomed him in. Mr. Cake was rather confused at this, as it was a store, not a geographic expedition. He shoved it into a pocket and followed the ebb of the other customers, unconvinced that the creators of the store would have made such an obvious oversight.

It became clear, thought, the founders actually did have no idea what they were doing, as the route that was being taken was completely random and just a long confusing maze. There was a rather long, spindly lamp that caught his attention, and he tried to head over, but unfortunately, Mr. Cake was caught in the consumer stream and found himself pushed along the obnoxiously thin pathway. He did catch a glimpse of the lamp's name: 'MILF.'

It was not long before Mr. Cake realized he was completely and utterly lost. On the bright side, he found a thing called a 'DOMBÅS' that seemed to match what Mrs. Cake wanted. As he tried to take the dresser, a sales associate came along.

"Sir, you can't take that." The human looked at him with a funny expression. Perhaps he was trying to hold back a laugh.

"Why not? Is it not common practice for human stores to have products on display for sale?" Mr. Cake paused in his attempts to remove the dresser.

"Well, you have to take this product code and take it to the warehouse downstairs, where you'll pick it up." The human explained. "Here." He grabbed one of those tiny eraserless pencils and wrote it down on a note card.

"Thanks." Mr. Cake said. "How do I head down?"

"Just follow these people and ponies, you'll get there eventually." The human smiled and went off to help another customer.

By some miracle, Mr. Cake actually found himself in the cardboard box cathedral below the main showroom. It took him several minutes, but he found DOMBÅS, bought it, and carried it out.

Back home, Mrs. Cake watched Mr. Cake unpack the rather thin box. She put her new aprons in the wash after taking off the tags, and now tried to busy herself by helping her husband.

"Hon, it says here-" She began.

Mr. Cake simply grabbed the instructions and threw it over the shoulder. "Don't need that. Its a dresser, how hard can it be?"

Oh, my sweet summer child.

After three hours of labor, Mr. Cake and Mrs. Cake hadn't had much to show for their work. The dresser was badly crooked and it teetered and tottered this way and that, dangerously close to falling apart.

Mr. Cake let out a primal roar and punched the dresser disguised as a metaphor for their failing marriage.

"You do have a receipt for this piece of shit, yes?" Mrs. Cake grumbled.

They tried again, this time more earnestly, Mrs. Cake's apron collection long forgotten in the washing machine. They seemed to be doing better this time, except...

"That doesn't go like that..." Mrs. Cake pointed something out.

"Oh just fuck off will you?" Mr. Cake banged his head against the wall. He had installed the door on the wrong side of the dresser. "If I ever find Anon, I'm going to take this Allen key, turn it sideways, and ram it up his ass."

Pinkie Pie came around a few hours later and found the two ponies still cursing at the dresser, and quickly, she covered the twin's ears and pulled them back out.

Mr. Cake finally gave up. "Honey, give me that."

"What?" Mrs. Cake pointed at the printer. "Do you need this?"

"No-what? Why would I need a printer? Give me the flex tape." Mr. Cake impatiently waved his hoof several times. "This is how I begin my slow descent into alchoholism. I can't find the damn screws..." He said through gritted teeth. After a few minutes, he had jury rigged the entire dresser together.

"We've got one part left over." Mrs. Cake said.

"Oh that's not too bad." Mr. Cake grinned.

"It's a door." Mrs. Cake pawed at it.

"Wait, maybe its a board." Mr. Cake flipped it over. "Nope, it's a door."

The two sat, wheezing at the efforts of the day.

"Hey, I got you something." Mrs. Cake said got up and brought back a Raggedy Andy doll. "The humans are so similar to us, it's strange."

"I got something for you too. It's a desk lamp. I know your old one's broken..." Mr. Cake gently placed down the doll. "Hon, I just gotta say, thanks for being here for me. DOMBÅS brought the worst out of us..."

"It's ok." Mrs. Cake drew her husband into an embrace. "By the way, what's the lamp called?"

"MILF."

The slap could be heard from Canterlot.

Author's Note:

DOMBÅS and MILF are real Ikea products.

I do buy a lot of stuff from T.J. Maxx. I don't love them, but I also don't hate em.

Bob's Discount furniature, however, is hellspawn and all of it's locations should be destroyed.

My father is obsessed with Ikea food, personally, I think their Mac and Cheese is ok. I also really like building their stuff, it's like advanced Legos that you can use.

Flex Tape doesn't work as well as Flex Seal. Sorry, utility product enthusiasts.

556 views