Beanery

by TCC56

For The Exposure

Rarity tittered. "I'm sorry, you would like to commission me for what?"

"A line of clothing," repeated the stallion.

"Yes, and you're from…?"

He straightened his back. "Well I represent a corporate interest that would prefer to be unnamed at the moment, but happens to own the Ogres & Oubliettes brand."

Rarity rolled her eyes. "Your company would prefer to remain unnamed, but you will happily tell me the name of one of your products that has the name of the company printed on every box and book."

The stallion shifted uneasily. "I don't make the rules, m'am."

"And," Rarity added, "When the time comes I expect not to be paid by A Party Whom Would Prefer To Remain Unnamed. Those cheques tend to not clear."

The stallion tugged at the collar of his suit.

Unamused, Rarity turned back to pick up her sketch pad. "Do you have a name, or should I guess that is also something you would prefer to be coy about."

That, at least, seemed to be a question the stallion could answer effectively. "Smart, m'am. Smart Aleck, Esquire. I run the firm with my uncle, Street Wise."

Rarity nodded. "Yes, the firm of Street & Smart is quite well known. It's a pleasure," she haughtily added, "To be able to address a potential client as something beyond 'hey you'." She paused. "Though if you don't mind me venturing, you do seem a touch young. Given the nature of your firm's reputation, of course."

"Of course. I actually took over for my father - Smart Mouth - fairly recently." Smart shrugged haplessly. "This is kind of a test case for me."

She gave another tittering laugh. "Which is why you're approaching me about a fairly mundane commission."

He nodded. "I am. Since the company would prefer to remain anonymous - for no real good reason as you point out - my firm has been contracted to set up the project."

There was a long, awkward pause that ended when Rarity held up her sketch pad and tapped a pencil against it while looking pointedly at the attorney.

"Oh! Yes, the details." Smart pulled out a pad of his own. "The commission is to create a line of clothing to commemorate the release of the next edition of Ogres & Oubliettes. We're looking for something to really represent the feelings of the game. And as we've been informed that you play yourself, it seemed a natural fit."

It took only a moment to realize who had mentioned that part, and Rarity beamed. "Oh, quite. While it's not often, I do have a few… adventuring companions. So in that way I suppose I would be a natural choice."

"Second, actually," Smart piped up. "The first choice was a mare named Kerfuffle. But she declined as she doesn't have the time in her schedule."

Rarity blinked. "Kerfuffle plays?"

Smart shuffled his pad to a different page. "She's a level fourteen barbarian."

Rarity only had one response. "Huh." But she straightened herself. "Well, either way I am interested. How many pieces would they like and at what rate?"

Another shuffling of paper before Smart responded. "The client is seeking a set of twelve - one for each class in the new rulebook - and they're offering a rate of twelve hundred bits."

Scratching her chin with the pencil, Rarity considered. "That's not a bad rate. Allowing for materials, design time… extra since each will obviously have to be unique. Hm. Yes, twelve hundred per should--"

Smart raised a hoof to stop her. "Ah, no. Not twelve hundred per. Twelve hundred total."

Rarity stared incredulously at him. "A hundred bits per outfit."

He nodded.

She closed her sketchpad back up. "Sir, I don't know what experience you have within the fashion industry but one hundred bits for an outfit won't even pay for the materials." Rarity paused for a beat. "If I used the absolute cheapest and worst fabrics I suppose I could get the costs to under a hundred but that doesn't even begin to pay for my own time."

"But that's the point!" Smart flipped his pages before turning it around to show Rarity the notes from his employer. In large letters was the triply-underlined statement HIGH FANTASY - LOW BUDGET. "We want to entice the buying public with clothing based off their favorite hobby but that won't break the bank!"

Unamused, Rarity pushed Smart's paper away. "So they can spend it on the books instead?"

He hesitated. "...And miniatures."

Behind him, the door opened, the handle turned by cornflower blue magic.

"Darling, I do appreciate the offer but I'm afraid that I cannot accept your commission at this time." Rarity smiled like a tax auditor. "Unfortunately I've suddenly found my schedule far too packed."

Smart didn't move. "But this is a golden opportunity! Think of it - everypony in Equestira who plays Ogres & Oubliettes will see your clothing! It will be featured in the rulebooks! Thousands will know your designs and directly associate them with the game!" Rarity's aura wrapped around him, lifting the attorney off the floor and marching him to the door. "What it doesn't pay in bits it certainly pays for in exposure!"

Rarity halted. For just a moment, Smart's smile returned as he got her attention. Then he noticed that her eye was twitching, and he realized that the pause was not one of temptation. It was one of fury.

"Exposure?" The rage in Rarity's voice could not be repressed or restrained. "Sir, perhaps I should demonstrate to you just what exposure means in my industry." Her horn hummed, popping a double corona as the magic charged up.

Smart's eyes got very very small.

"Wind is three knots south-south-west." Rarity squinted as she aimed. "Twenty-three degrees elevation, four degrees azimuth."

"M'am--"

Smart got out not a syllable more. Rarity released him, firing the attorney out of her shop like a slingshot. He screamed, legs flailing as he tumbled through the air, across the street and into the small creek that ran through Ponyville. The shot was dead on target: Smart landed directly in the center before skipping off the water's surface and coming to a final halt in the mud along the edge of the water.

Trotting out to her front steps, Rarity took a pleased look at her handiwork and nodded. "Expose yourself to humility, darling!" Then she returned to her work and slammed the door behind her.

Author's Note:

Prompt: High Fantasy, Low Budget
Bonus: No delete key; no moving the mouse cursor back to a previous position. Full steam ahead.