The Foal Six

by blayzekohime

6. Rarity

Rarity was looking forward to seeing the foals like everypony else, and not having to deal with them because foals were a little gross, no offense to foals. But of the whole group, it took her the longest to realize what had happened.

All she knew is that she was, with no warning, dressed in one of the tackiest getups that she’d ever had the displeasure of being in. She had on a frilly mauve and puke green tutu, bedazzled with far too many random stones, some of which weren’t even proper gems, as if it were made by some amateur fashionista that had just snorted powdered poison joke.

Her diaper was even worse, patterned in plaid with the same colors, but also decorated with the mascot of her Dad’s favorite sports team, the Manehattan Nematode. It was a worm crawling out of a muffin; only sports fanatics could choose such a gross mascot and think it was anything but offensive!

She realized that the mauve and green were the team colors. She had always hated how Dad had their house decked out in those colors when she was growing up and it had taken her forever to talk sense into him. If that wasn’t bad enough though, she was in a bright neon pink crib with dirt brown bedding, which clashed worse than Applejack at a fancy dinner.

What was this nightmare she was locked in? Had Twilight’s spell caused an explosion and now she was in Pony Hell for some reason? She knew she should have donated more to the Church of the Inoffensively Vague Religion!

She must have spent a good half hour in shock, unable to move and sliding in and out of consciousness before she put two and two together and realized that Twilight’s spell had backfired, but not in the way she feared. She couldn’t decide if this was a worse way or not though.

Rarity didn’t remember having ever been dressed in such ghastly outfits, but that made sense since her brain would have probably locked away such traumatic memories to protect her from them. Was she stuck here? Would she be forced to relive the tackiness of her youth that had caused her to rebel so fabulously? She wasn’t sure she could go through that a second time!

Finally she screamed in abject horror, spinning as dramatically as she could when she could barely stand and smacking the edge of the crib. She screamed again as she imagined the mere touch of such tacky colors burning.

“Sweetie?” Dad asked as he rounded the corner into her room, wearing a horrifyingly unfashionable flower-print shirt with garish mismatched colors like a rainbow on a drug trip. It only made things worse.

“Oh?” her Mom’s voice rang out as she peeked into the room from the other side of the hall. Mercifully, she merely had a flower in her hair. Had it been something less fabulous, Rarity might very well have died from shock.

Daddy moved to the crib first, patting her diaper to check it and finding nothing, so scratched his head in confusion as Rarity wailed. She tried to motion to what she was wearing with her tiny hooves, hoping against hope that they would see the distress it was causing her, but they didn’t seem to understand.

“Oh I guess she wants to be fed then,” Mommy reached into the crib to pull her out.

Fed? But Rarity didn’t see any bottles so… oh no! As Rarity feared, Mommy intended on doing that the natural way, flopping over onto her side and smushing Rarity’s face against a teat. It was so unsanitary! How did babies ever deal with this sort of thing?

Rarity put one front hoof to her forehead to show them her distress, but any words she attempted to use just came out as babbling nonsense. She spun around to try and be more dramatic, but that only got her a better look at her foalhood room.

She’d forgotten how terrible her parents were at decorating before being exposed to Rarity’s healing influence, and everything she looked at terrified her more. There was a set of plastic looking drawers that were so pink that even Pinkie might have been offended, then green wallpaper with hoofballs and other related tools, why would they even think to put that in a baby’s room? She hoped they hadn’t been counting on her getting into sports because if so they were in for grave disappointment.

Mommy seemed determined that Rarity was hungry even though she tried to squirm away, and once the teat was in her muzzle it went on automatic to extract the bitter natural nutrition out. It was the worst three hours of her life, or at least it seemed like three hours, it was probably more like five minutes tops.

“I think she’s had enough,” pondered Daddy, scratching his chin. “She sure is fussy today. I wonder if there’s something we can do.”

How dare he! She wasn’t fussy! How else did he expect a civilized lady to react when thrust into such an uncouth situation? It was mortifying!

“Come on now little one,” Mommy picked Rarity up and gently placed her on her back, though balancing the currently drama-inclined foal was difficult so Daddy stepped up and held her on balance.

The two went out of the bedroom, down the hall, and into the equally poorly decorated living room area. By the time that they put Rarity on the couch, she was significantly less squirmy, though probably more because she was going into tackiness-induced shock than anything else.

“What was that one toy she really liked?” Mommy pondered, and went back to her room for a moment.

“I think we might have left it in the garage when I was showing her my cart maintenance tools,” Daddy said, referencing another event that she was thankful not to remember.

As they left, Rarity looked around, desperate to find anything that might calm her, and her eyes locked upon a glass bowl on the end table next to the couch she was on. It was full of what appeared to be chocolate candies. Jackpot! She would drown her despair in chocolate until Twilight hopefully fixed this situation.

It was on the other end of the couch, so getting there proved to be more of a task than she had counted on. She certainly didn’t remember any couch being so big, and the indentation between the cushions was like maneuvering over a trench. It didn’t help that she refused to open her eyes more than necessary lest she catch sight of some other unfashionable thing; she felt like if there was one more she might die from shock. She didn’t want to create some apocalyptically-garish timeline by denying her friends her fabulousness in the future.

After what seemed like another five hours but was probably again no more than ten minutes, she made it to the bowl, reaching both forelegs for it at once. The bowl tipped over, the candies mostly spilling out onto the end table and some landing on the floor.

She grasped one in her hooves, but her sticky hoof manipulation wasn’t working quite so well at her age, so getting it unwrapped turned out to be a challenge. Finally in sheer desperation, she stuffed the entire thing into her muzzle and chewed on it with her gums. She managed to salivate on the wrapper until it came loose, then swallowed, trying to spit out as much of the wrapper as she could but probably missing some.

The chocolate was like the sweetest nectar, and she sank into a psychotic haze as she grabbed one piece of candy after the next. Sometimes she managed to get the wrapper off, sometimes she just swallowed it whole, but all the time she got more of the tasty chocolate into her gullet. She wasn’t sure how much of it she managed to eat before a pair of wicked hooves grabbed her away from the bowl and deprived her of her coping mechanism.

She screamed again, muzzle overflowing with chocolate flavored foam, which was then dutifully wiped off by the one holding her.

“Goodness!” Daddy appeared to be the one. “You can’t eat those sweetie!”

“Oh no!” Mommy was next to him, holding some bright yellow pole with a lot of mismatched donut shaped objects that one could place around it. Apparently this was Rarity’s favorite toy? She found that hard to believe. Why would she have played with something so infantile?

What followed was an epic struggle as Rarity tried to stuff a few last pieces of chocolate into her tiny muzzle and her parents attempted to prevent her from it. They were so clearly unreasonable that they even attempted to pry them out of her mouth before she could swallow them. The nerve! She really wished that she could talk so she could give them a piece of her mind.

“My goodness, what has gotten into you, dear?” Mommy asked.

“Besides chocolate,” said Daddy. “Actually I think she ate a few wrappers too. Think we should take her to the doctor?”

“Well paper wrappers should digest,” Mommy said. “No need to frighten her by taking her to a strange place.”

Rarity grabbed one of the donut shaped rings from the toy and threw it at Mommy’s head. The intended message was to take her anywhere but here and she’d be far less frightened of her surroundings, but it didn’t seem to get through sadly.

“There you go!” Daddy smiled. “I knew she’d want to play with this… loopty loop thing, I don’t know what you call it.”

“Aw, how precious,” Mommy nodded, the toy hanging off her ear. She put the pole down on the couch and tried to instruct Rarity by putting the shape down over it. “This is where you put it, see?”

This continued for some time, with them trying to get her to put the shape onto the pole where it goes and Rarity throwing it in various places to try to communicate her rage. She threw it towards the door, at a particularly tacky checkered lamp shade, and tried to knock an ugly ceramic of the Manehattan nematode mascot off a shelf. Sadly her hoof strength and barely sparking horn just wouldn’t send them far enough to hit their target, and her clueless parents acted like they thought she was trying and failing rather than trying to communicate. The whole thing was mortifying.

Unlike the other things that she imagined took a very long time, this seemed to actually do so, since her chocolate had time to attempt digestion or at least to trigger something unpleasant. She didn’t even notice until both her parents were holding their noses, since it otherwise faded into the horror that surrounded her.

“Oh dear, there’s that chocolate,” Daddy cringed slightly. “Wow I hope she doesn’t get too much of a taste for the stuff.” He was clearly in for sore disappointment later in life.

“Oops, let me get a fresh diaper,” Mommy hurried out of the room.

Rarity’s rage kept her from realizing what had occurred for a while, but when she did realize, she was mortified. If she wasn’t already white, she’d have been several shades paler at least at this point. Being a foal was just one train wreck of humiliation after another, and she wasn’t sure for how much longer she could take it! If Twilight took too long to fix this, she’d end up in an alternate timeline where she lived in the mental health wing of the Ponyville Hospital right next to that one pony that barked at her from the window when she walked past.

Fortunately for her parents, Rarity was now too embarrassed to move, frozen in place like a mannequin with a stunned look on her tiny face. She probably would have snapped out of it had Mommy not returned to the room carrying a diaper that was striped with shades of green, yellow, and brown that made it look like Rainbow Dash threw up on it after a night of binge drinking sports drinks. Maybe it was just one trauma building on another, but it looked like the worst thing that they had made her suffer through so far!

“Aw what a silly face!” Daddy misinterpreted her mental state again. “Well at least she’s back to her happy self again.”

As Mommy and Daddy worked together to change her, Rarity lay on the couch so still that a chalk outline around her wouldn’t have looked out of place. It was just too much! She started to feel a bit dizzy and drowsy from the repeated reminders of how little fashion sense her parents had before she’d been able to guide them away from such horrors.

“Aw is she getting sleepy?” Mommy ruffled her head as Daddy was wrapping her up in the new diaper.

No, Rarity was pretty sure she was fainting, but it didn’t much matter. Escaping to an unconscious state was an acceptable break from this.