• Published 3rd Apr 2013
  • 11,798 Views, 1,573 Comments

Woundsalt, Mother Bucker. - OneUppington



Meet the most cynical pony in Canterlot, who under the latest Princess' orders, moves to Ponyville to meet up with the Mane Six for his own quest to find friends. Many Swear words ensue.

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Fitted for Disaster

I make a wincing face.

“Not liking the colours, darling?”

“That and I can feel a pin that isn’t poking me, but very close my junk.”

The unicorn giggles. “I’m sorry darling, I swear I took them all out; must have hidden from me. Right, how about the number 42 jacket with the number 6 sweater, the fedora on 7 and… maybe forget about the trousers for now?”

I nod as I carefully remove the jacket, shirt and the almost hazardous pants and put them back onto the mannequins where I got them from. Besides from the close shave, it’s been a good hour like this; Rarity saying the numbers of the mannequins to acquire items of clothing from and then wear said clothes only for one of us to say they don’t like this combination, so I have to put the clothes back. Rinse and repeat. I’m virtually surprised I’m not bored out of my senses. Then again, it is a fairly new experience for me. I don’t go out clothes shopping very often, what with society being okay with you wearing nothing in most establishments.

I’m finding it amazing that all these suits were made so fast. Rarity did admit she found some that were supposed to be for other clients but changed their minds, but that was just clothing only for a quarter of the mannequins here! Multi-tasking with her magic, apparently. That’s what she said when I brought this matter to question before, anyway. Personally, I believe there’s a sweatshop full of old Moscolt ladies in the basement, getting paid in the excess fabric so they can make blankets to survive the cold. That, or vodka… I could go with some vodka right n-NO! Stick with the routine, Woundsalt! The Dash will know and the Dash can hurt!

Let’s see… Mannequin number 6’s turtle neck looks nice. And I’m liking the stripe on the number 7 fedora. The number 42 mannequin is more to the back.

OH TARTARUS NO!

“HOW ABOUT NO ON THAT JACKET?” I yell to the mare at the front the horde of faceless dolls.

“TOO FLASHY, DARLING?” I hear her yell back.

I look back at it. It’s covered to the brim with rubies cut into five point stars. Hunka-Hunka would be proud to wear this. Not me.

“YES!” I reply as I run back to the front. “I mean seriously, I thought Vinyl Scratch said nothing too fancy.”

“I know she did. I know she did! It’s just that… this restaurant you’re going to is the fanciest in town! We are talking stringed quartets and champagne, Woundsalt! Salad with truffles in it! I’m surprised that Miss Scratch even got a reservation at Filliways!”

“Did she?”

“I… I think she did, why else did she say to meet at the front of Filliways? From what I overheard this morning she was planning this for six months, correct? Clearly she’s got this booked!”

I look back to the general direction of the jacket. “True… but nothing fancy. Maybe something like it but without the ruby stars?”

The purple-maned mare puts her hoof up to her chin to think “I think number 27, but that’s one of the rejected ones from other clients so I can’t speak on how well it fits.”

“Well, it’s worth a shot.”

I drop the sweater and hat neatly on the seat and return to the mannequin jungle.

You know, these things look a lot like me. Maybe just remove the mane, paint over my mark…

... Oh buck me...


“Woundsalt, are you all right in the… Oh, sweetie…”

Well, she caught me crying. Kind of easy to from a distance I imagine, what with all the black on white. Probably looked like some kind of minimalist painting. What I’m crying about is… Number 27.

A mannequin, which like the others, looks like me. But this one even more so than the rest. Whoever it was who made this thing put hair on the dummy. Synthetic, Black hair. For its mane and its tail. Why would they do that? To make it more realistic, I assume. Oh Cadence, and black wasn’t the original hair colour. It’s black paint poorly covering white hair! The only difference is this dummy didn’t get his hair done by somepony who knew what they were doing!

… Well, that and… the horn.

It’s a unicorn mannequin. A unicorn mannequin look alike of myself. As if my inner self dunked his head and tail into a paint bucket! And it’s safe to say he’s looking happier than I do right now.

She sits right next to me as she hovers a box of tissues over.

“This mannequin used to be at the front window. Since it looks more realistic than most of the others, you see. But ponies were put off by the terrible dye job he had!”

Clearly she tried to make that sound like it was funny. And now, realising that her attempt of humour had failed, she sighs.

“I’m guessing you’re wondering how it could’ve been, aren’t you? If you had controlled it from the beginning? If you were a unicorn?”

“… Yeah…”

She turns to the statue.

“… For one thing,” I start, “I could’ve been adopted in no time.”

“Oh now, Woundsalt, really…”

“No, no. I’m serious. Unicorn colt orphans have the second highest adoption rate. Right after Unicorn girls. They don’t even bother creating a file in the database for them at Saint Diamond Heart’s, they get adopted that fast.”

She looks at me, eyes widened. “They don’t even name them?”

“No need... Abandoners always write the foal’s name down on the basket.”

“Ah yes, of course. Mother’s Sense.” She says while nodding. A calming silence falls.

“So who would unicorn Woundsalt get adopted by?” Rarity asks, perhaps killing the silence, but nod the mood.

“Well, knowing that he would have the same luck I have, he’d- Wait…

We’re making a large assumption here.

We are assuming my mother, whoever she may be, would have left me there no matter who I was. What if… What if the CMC was the reason she left me there? Mother’s Sense, right? She’d know! If I was a unicorn, I won’t have the CMC and...”

“The CMC is not the reason she left you, Woundsalt.”

“Well, how do you know that’s not the reason?”

She grabs my ears and making my head turn to meet hers.

“Because no mother should abandon a child just because they are different! If this was the case, that MONSTER doesn’t deserve any child at all!”

She lets go of my ears. “Sorry, darling. That was a little heartless of me to say that.”

“Oh no, there’s no need. Trust me, I called her worse things than monster.” I reply as I rub my ears.

“You know something, darling?” Rarity says, clearly trying to change the subject. “These trousers on number 27 do look lovely, especially with that belt.”
I look at the dummy. “Yeah. That is a very nice belt. Maybe we shouldn’t forget the pants.”

“I couldn’t agree more!” She says as she undresses the mannequin with her telekinesis. I can’t help but smile as we walk all the way back to the front.


“… So, what do you think?”

She looks at me and smiles. “Magnifique!”

I look into the mirror. I wouldn’t say magnifique myself, but if she’s going to act Prench, I’m not going to stop her.

Because I look fabulous.

White suit with a black lining with pants to match, red turtleneck that isn’t itchy as Tartarus, and a fedora with a diagonal stripe design to complete this masterpiece. Almost makes me forget it’s… me!

I bow to my suitor, making her blush.

“Oh Mister Salt, you charmer! That cellist is lucky I have a strong stance against older stallions, otherwise you’d never get to that date!”

I smile. “Well, thank you for the suit. How much do I owe you?”

“Oh please! Consider it my present from last night!”

Sigh… another opportunity to get rid of some of those bits dashed against the wall again. Ah well, I’ll just buy some other pointless shit and I’ll be dirt cheap poor in… Well, I was about to say no time, but that is a serious amount of money.

“So, do you know what’ll be a good thing to order at this Filliways?”

“They have a magnificent salad.”

“Do they?”

“Oh yes. Well, at least Printed Mint told me so when he needed a suit repair a few months back. Is it true that he passed away this week?”

“Yeah, I got the news from Page today! They put his urn in some restaurant. Apparently they have a magnificent sa-BUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!

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