Trotting Thunder
Trotting Thunder
I set my alarm to wake me up a few minutes before we had to get to the fashion show, but that wasn't what got me out of bed. It was a smell. An awesome smell, but a smell all the same. I sat up and saw one of those fancy serving dishes from the kitchen sitting on my nightstand. I lifted the cover off, and the scent of perfectly cooked salmon nearly blew me away.
There wasn't a note or anything attached to it, so I had to assume it was Rarity's work. While I was kinda unhappy that I'd been woken up a few hours early, this was worth it. I knew I was gonna burn through that thing like a fat kid through candy. That's one of the lame things about fancy restaurants: they only give you small portions. I'll never understand why. Maybe rich people don't like eating in public.
I poked my head out of my room and found her asleep on the bed. She’d already laid out her dresses for the evening show on the rack beside it.
You know, she didn't look so snooty when she was asleep.
I made short work of the lunch and sat back down on my bed. I laid back, wondering when my jacket was going to be ready. There were still a few hours left to go before dinner, and I remember thinking maybe this assignment would get better if I pretended to have an opinion about fashion junk. Then I remembered I couldn't care about something so pointless even if I wanted to. But I could at least fake it, and that would be good enough for the next few days.
I rested my talons behind my head and sighed. Just three more days and this would all be behind me. Heck, maybe if I kept my comments to myself, there would be more salmon in it for me.
Maybe.
I woke rested and ready to take on the evening, even though my fluttering heart allowed me very little sleep. In all honesty, I wanted to stay up and fret over whether I'd made the right choices dress-wise, but I knew I needed a fresh face if I was going to be the talk of the town tonight!
As I confirmed my final decisions on the dresses I selected, a pony from the label came by to take the pieces to the show ahead of time. I'd held a few back so that I could continue to fuss over them. Only my most confident works went ahead of time. A few adjustments and alterations are not unheard of before a premiere to make sure the clothes were fitted perfectly to the model wearing them. After I'd sent the gowns on their way, something quite peculiar happened.
"Hey, I was gonna say this earlier, but you were busy," Gilda began. She had been watching me make the final touches on my work from a corner chair until a second ago. For a moment, I hadn't the slightest idea what she was talking about. "The salmon was great. Thanks."
It was at that moment that I wondered if, perhaps, Gilda had simply had a rough day when she’d met Pinkie. It still in no way excuses how she acted toward Fluttershy, but Celestia knows there are days when I would rather have a pinch of Pinkie than a spoonful.
"Yes, well, think nothing of it," I replied. "I've heard rumors of what they serve in the guards' dining room, and even if they are only half true, it simply will not do. You can't very well keep me safe if you're in the bathroom all night, can you?"
She smirked. A bit of toilet humor goes a long way in certain circles. "I'm gonna check on my jacket. Don't get killed while I'm gone," she said, with what could have passed as a smile.
I thought we'd made progress, but I quickly pushed her out of my mind. Making friends was not why I was here. I still had my mane to do and my tail to brush. Unlike the last party, punctuality was going to be very important this time around. I'd need to greet and mingle with all the fashion greats if I wanted to leave a lasting impression. Also, I had to make certain they would be in attendance at my showcase.
Before long, my preparations had been made, and Gilda had reappeared with her blazer. It looked like the filth from the previous evening had come out, which gave me a spark of hope that my dress might be salvageable.
"Ride's waiting," she grunted, gesturing out the door. Although I was excited about what the night would bring, I also couldn't shake the events of the previous engagement from my thoughts. Someone had tried to kill Hoity! That kind of attack was simply unheard of, especially in the fashion world. As far as I'd heard, there had been no arrests made, but rumor had it that Hoity was supposed to make an appearance at tonight's show.
I must admit, I admired the dedication! As we made our way down to the lobby, I was treated to even more civil conversation.
"So, are your getups gonna be in this one?" Gilda asked.
"No, these will be the summer lineups from Prance. Mine will be presented at the final show—the one the Princesses will be attending."
She seemed apathetic, but then again she wasn't the one whose dreams were going to be recognized in a few short nights! However, I was certain to correct the mistake I'd made last night. "I'll want you by my side at all times. And please, try not to scowl at anyone."
Gilda snorted. "No promises."
Camera flashes blinded the both of us as soon as we stepped onto the red carpet. I dunno how these fashion nerds deal with this kind of hounding every day. Thankfully, this place looked like it wasn't about to be condemned. I'd already studied the blueprints, and security was much tighter than the last event. After the red carpet entrance, everyone—myself included—had to pass through a magic screener. Unless the guy who attacked last night was truly nuts, he wouldn't try the same thing twice. Assuming he missed the first time, that is.
Unlike last time, I was right behind Rarity all night. I eyed every single pony that got within five feet of her, but even the idea of one of them hiding a weapon was laughable. I mean, where were they going to hide it? I've never seen so many ponies wearing clothes they looked like they had been poured into. My dagger got through, but only because of my job. Not like I was about to hand over my Dad's piece to one of these wage-slave bouncers, anyway.
The night was going smoothly. We'd eaten dinner in the restaurant they'd set up near the runway, and Rarity was well on her way to having me carry her back to the hotel, if you get me. I couldn't blame her; she had something to celebrate. Besides, as long as she was with me, everything would be fine. Above the stage were catwalks, where even more security patrolled. Last nights attack got me thinking: could it have been an inside job? I mean, I'd like to think the venue screens its bouncers, but who knows what kind of lunatic applies for a job that requires you to wear a tee shirt two sizes too small?
We took our seat next to the runway, and the lights dimmed. The DJ began his ear-splittingly repetitive house music and the special effect lights came up. Before the show started, the music faded as the pony I recognized from brunch today stepped on stage.
"Ladies and gentlecolts, before we begin, most of you may have heard of the savage attack on one of our dear friends." The crowd hushed, like talking about it was somehow going to make it worse. "However, I am pleased to announce, that Hoity Toity is well on his way to a full recovery and felt so well that he was able to join us tonight!" The spotlight shifted from the stage to a stallion beside the runway, a white bandage wrapped around his shoulder peeked out from behind his jacket. He stood and nodded before taking his seat. After the cheers died down, the show finally started. I was actually kinda looking forward to seeing some of the crazy stuff these ponies considered 'fashionable'.
The first model looked like she was wearing a dress from the future. It was entirely chrome, and looked like it was made of tin foil. The lights from the stage actually blinded me a couple of times, but these ponies ate it up. The next mare in line looked like she could stand a few stints at an all-you-can-eat buffet. That was made even more obvious by the loose-fitting dress she wore. I've never claimed to know what matches with what, but I'm pretty sure if the colors make my eyes hurt, no one in their right mind would wear them. Still, more than a few ponies nodded in approval.
The rest of the show was a similar parade of stuff I could hardly even consider clothes. Strips of cloth covering random body parts, maybe, but definitely not clothes. It was like these mares had been squirted down with glue and then sprinted through a fabric store while blindfolded. But, none of this was for me—or folks like me. I could almost tell who was a bodyguard and who was meant to be here by their expressions alone. I passed the time that way until the lights finally came up.
The after-party was only the next block over. It was a pretty fancy bar with even more catered food. This place was all marble floors and cloth napkins. It was one of those places that just smelled old. Like, if there hadn't been a party here, gray haired ponies would be sitting around a table talking about their latest golf round or how their stocks were doing. Imagine every library you've ever been in then add in old paintings and statues. There you have it.
Rarity had dipped into the bathroom, and I took the opportunity to slide over to the buffet table and load up. There's some fancy word for them, but they were just food to me. Hoarders, I think they called them. Anyway, I was busy chowing down when I felt a tap on the shoulder.
"Enjoying yourself?" I knew that voice. Looked like she could only drop the prissy attitude when we weren't in public.
"Eh." I shrugged. "These hoarders are pretty good."
She raised an eyebrow before giving me another sigh and eye-roll. "It's pronounced hors d'oeuvres. Now, how exactly are you going to be protecting me if your beak is buried in spring rolls?" Boy, was I tired of this noise already. And to think I thought tonight would have loosened her up. I set the plate down and finished what I had, wiping my talons together. "Please." Rarity hovered a napkin towards me just as I was about to wipe my talons on the tablecloth. I still don't see what the big deal is—they're both made of cloth!
There was no way I was going to make the night with her still acting all uptight. Thankfully, I had an idea I just knew would put Ms. Fancy Hooves in a better mood.
"Hey, how about I get you a drink?" She turned her nose up at first.
"I can't. I simply must keep my wits about me if I'm going to woo these designers." I was expecting her to refuse. Luckily, I'd planned for that, too.
"Look, all these other fashion weirdos have drinks. Do you want to be remembered as that one sober pony?" She bit her bottom lip slightly as she glanced around. Nailed it.
"Well... perhaps one wouldn't hurt, but do be quick! The night is almost over, and I still have a few ponies I must speak with."
Bingo. I walked to the bar and ordered the strongest yet tastiest drink I could think of: a long island iced tea. Just one of these things is soaked in nearly every kind of liquor behind the bar. If that didn't loosen her up, she had a liver of steel.
I ordered her drink and a little something for myself. It was an open bar with top-shelf liquor. You never know when an opportunity to drink fine booze for free would come along, so drink up! My Pop would always say. I downed my shot of bourbon and waded through the crowd with her cocktail. She took it in her magic and gave it a small sip. "I saw you take a drink."
"It was two for one!" I lied. "Besides, it was just one drink. I've still got your back."
She may have been unconvinced, but it didn't really matter at that point. Rarity took a longer sip and looked around the room. "Oh, there's Hoity." Once again she was swimming through the crowd as I tried to stay up with her. I kept my eyes peeled for anything suspicious, but nothing jumped out at me. Then again, nothing had last night, either.
I got next to her as the two of them droned on about fashion.
"... I'm sure they'll catch whoever did this," Rarity said. That's when I started paying attention. "It's just so very inspiring to have you here just a day after such a vile event."
"I would not have missed it for all the thread in Canterlot, my dear. It takes a lot more than one deranged criminal to keep me from attending fashion week, I assure you."
"Are you feeling any better?" she asked.
"Oh, it does hurt, but I soldier through it." Odd, because none of these ponies seemed like the type to "soldier through" anything. At that moment, a waiter was shuffling behind me. He must've lost his step, because I felt his shoulder plant itself into my back. I fell forward, driving my shoulder right into Hoity's bandage. I heard a squeal I thought for sure came from Hoity, but it came from Rarity instead. I straightened myself up as the waiter apologized. The weird thing was, Hoity had taken almost my full weight into his wounded shoulder, and didn't even flinch! Maybe I had misjudged these fashion types.
I could have just flown her back to the hotel on my back. I should have, honestly. But, like the good bodyguard I am, I helped her into the cab. It was her money; she could spend it however she wanted. Once we made it to the hotel, she seemed not to care about the ponies still in the lobby seeing her as drunk as she was. I had one of her legs over my shoulder and almost tripped myself getting her to the elevator. Her fancy dress was now a bit more loose than at the start of the event, and her mane was kinda all over the place. Thank Syrell feathers never need anything but the occasional preen.
Once I got her to the elevator, she finally let me lean her against the wall to give my shoulder a break.
"Did you see all those ponies liking my dresses?" she slurred. And here I thought high-society types could hold their liquor.
"Yeah, I saw 'em." I rotated my arm, trying to make sure I didn't pull anything while fighting to keep her off the ground.
She grunted at me, probably for not drooling all over her accomplishment like I was one of her lackey friends. "Of course you wouldn't care. You don't care what happens to me!"
I sighed. "I do care." I mean... I did! It was my job. "I'm just not into all this prissy fashion junk."
I glanced over at her side of the elevator. She was wearing a scowl. "That's your problem: you only care about you and the things you think matter."
She was just drunk, but you know what they say: drunken words are sober thoughts.
Ding!
Thank the gods! I thought, taking her leg and dragging her down the hallway. Luckily, she forgot all about what she was saying in the elevator by the time we got to the door. I managed to lug her into the foyer, making it all the way to the bed before I could finally toss her onto it. Ponies are heavier than they look.
I didn't think she would have wanted to sleep in her dress, but like I said before, I was her bodyguard, not her butler. I was nearly back to my room when I heard her moving around. I could have sworn she had passed out.
"Gilda!" That tone. I knew that tone.
I had to act quickly. So far, this was the biggest test of my reflexes since I started this assignment. I mean, as long as you didn't count that whole crossbow thing last night. I lunged into the bathroom and grabbed the little trashcan. I was way too far to reach her before she puked, so I did the next best thing: I hurled it at her.
I think she saw it coming, because she at least tried to catch it. She missed right by about three feet. The can crashed into the wall beside the bed, cracking the drywall. Somehow, she managed to grab the trash can and puke into it. That was one 'special cleaning fee' dodged. I filled a glass of water for her and set it on the nightstand.
"Thank you," she said, though she didn't touch the water. I stood there, waiting for her to ask me for something else, or to pass out—whichever came first. But, to my surprise, she did neither.
"So, you were friends with Rainbow Dash when she was a foal?"
My beak opened, but no words came out. I was honestly unsure why she'd ask that. But, clearly drunk Rarity was a bit more talkative than sober, snooty Rarity.
"Yeah, we were pretty tight back then." I admit, there was an edge of coldness in my answer.
"What was she like back then?" Rarity asked, propping herself up on her forelegs. I took a seat in the fancy chair next to the bed and leaned back.
"Well, a lot like she is now." I couldn't help but smile as I remembered the way we used to be. "We pranked our way into more trouble than I can remember. We probably spent more time in detention than we did in the sky." I rubbed a talon across my face. She was staring at me like I was telling a kid the Hearth's Warming eve story. "We did everything together."
I was starting to reconsider what I was telling her. After all, what business of hers was it how close Dash and I used to be?
"Do you miss her?" she asked softly. What kind of question was that? Did I miss my best friend that picked her new friends over me just because they were Elements of Harmony or whatever? I looked her over. Her eyes were half-lidded, and out of focus. She was drunk, as if that were in doubt. She'd probably never remember this conversation, so what was the harm in telling her how things really were?
"Yeah, sometimes." That was all I wanted to say. It was all I was going to say.
"Why don't you just apologize? At least to Fluttershy." That tore it!
"Apologize? I flew all the way from my country just to hang out with her, and what happens? Her stupid pink friend won't leave us alone, none of you ponies know how to take a joke, and on top of that, the pink one set every single prank up to make me look like an idiot in front of my only—" I stopped myself. Even if she wasn't going to remember this conversation, no need to let my emotions get the best of me.
I was staring down at my clenched talons when a soft snoring drew my attention. Rarity was well and truly passed out. It was just as well, she needed to sleep it off.
Once I was sure she was out cold, I went back to my room. I lay on my bed and tried to get some sleep, but it just wasn't happening. I peeked out of my room just to make sure Rarity hadn't made a mess on the sheets. She was still just as unconscious as ever, though it looked like she'd at least sipped on the water.
I don't do this often, but a lot of times my lack of sleep can be cured by a stroll and a cigarette. Not the healthiest habit, I know, but it works. I grabbed my smokes and crept out the door. I made sure all the doors were locked before I left, but there was still a bit of worry in the back of my mind.
I nodded to the night watchpony, and made my way outside. I used an employee exit and stood out near the dumpsters for a bit trying to light my cigarette in the wind. This back door was usually pretty quiet, and the rules say we're supposed to smoke at least one hundred feet away from the building. But, what the general manager didn't know, wouldn't hurt him. The wind was proving to be a challenge for my matchbook, so I started walking down the alley to try and get away from it.
It took a few minutes before I actually found a stretch of buildings that blocked the breeze. I stuck a match on the bricks and lit up, taking a slow drag. As I stood there trying to enjoy myself, I heard voices echoing from further down the alley. Ordinarily, I wouldn't have given a damn, but a few of the words came in loud and clear. Words that put a chill in my veins.
"—Hoity was not the target!"
My ears perked up. I followed the sound deeper into the alley.
"I understand, my lord, but the week is not over."
I came to a corner of the alley between two apartment buildings. I put my ear near the corner. They had to have been right around the bend.
I heard one of them sigh. I didn't recognize their voices, but the shadows they cast were pony-like. At least, they looked pony-like. "Have you at least taken care of Hoity?"
"Yes, my lord, he has been placated."
"And Rarity?"
I nearly froze in place. They were targeting Rarity, whoever they were! I had to see a face, I needed to know who to watch for, who to report to the cops and the director. I peeked around the corner, but they were in shadow. "Don't worry, we'll get her soon en..." One of them stopped and sniffed the air. "Do you smell that?"
My back froze against the bricks. My cigarette was still lit! I tossed it casually to the street, hoping they wouldn't come sniffing around. As luck would have it, I flicked the lit smoke onto some moldy hay in the trash. It lit up like a torch, and I knew I had to bail. I took flight faster than I ever had before. I don't know if they saw me, but even if they did, there was no way they couldn't gotten a good look at me. I hoped not, anyway.
I high-tailed it back to the Ritz as fast as my wings would carry me.
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See, this is why Gilda's episode never worked for me and I couldn't see her as a villain. Yeah, petty fruit theft aside, anyone who can put up with Pinkie butting in, has claws and still not instantly rip Pinkie to pieces isn't so bad.
Pinkie was just annoying. When a friend has visitors, you leave them alone. Basic courteous.
In all honesty, Rarity has a point here. Gilda basically tricked Rarity into getting drunk in what might be the most important moment in her career just because Rarity was acting 'snooty'.
3131140
And that should have been the REAL moral. Make it turn out where Gilda wasn't a villain, and that Pinky was actually wrong all along. Something more humbling than, "THE BITCH WAS MEAN, I KNEW IT ALL ALONG!"
Hah! Puns!
Good
3131362 I think the real moral was 'don't flip your shit in front of your friends or they'll ditch you like a hot potato'.
Although Twilight gets away with it later. And earlier. And in general. I guess you can add 'unless you're a big shot with connections'.
*Alondro reads, sees... Hoity is there?* Something's fishy... deep shoulder wounds would leave an equine laid up for days unless the ponies had magical rapid healing akin to Harry Potter healing magic. But he's wearing a bandage, so that's not the case... I wonder...
>>>The weird thing was, Hoity had taken almost my full weight into his wounded shoulder, and didn't even flinch! Maybe I had misjudged these fashion types.>>>
Well well, a wolf in sheep's clothing has appeared.
I'm surprised you didn't go with the obvious "horse doovers" joke.
That Hoity is a spy!
teamfortress.com/classless/images/01_spy_hat.jpg
3132992 I think it's quite suspicious that Hoity Toity sudenly grew a horn.
3134915 That could just be a tumor.
3135663
Why did you make Hoity Toity a unicorn? Pretty sure he's supposed to be an earth pony. I know it's implied he's a spy or something but how did no one notice he was suddenly a different race.
3138212 that was actually just a typo. he's supposed to be whatever race he is in the show. I fixed it.
3136584
I wondered if you'd get that.
Well, I am certainly reconsidering my "poor Hoity Toity" comment from earlier.
Drunk pony is best pony, as usual.
Speaking of drunk, one thing is certain. Nothing brings folks together like trying to keep alcohol induced sick from getting everywhere. Nothing.
Great story!
)
(Also, you see that 200th like up there? Yeah... I did that.
3148650
That was the intended lesson of the episode, but the execution made Pinkie seem like the bigger jerk.
Gilda proves body-guard training is not spy/detective/stealth training once more, I see.
3132130
Well, I think it helps if you've been hanging out recently instead of trying to reconnect after a long absence, as far as people tolerating you flipping out, because then they have fresh memories of you being fun or helpful to combat the bad ones you just made.
HALT!
Ze GNG has spotted a mistake!
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HAIL GRAMMAR!