She Came In Through the Front Door
All too often, central business districts are functionally dead zones every late-afternoon and weekend after the white-collar workers, those cogs in the machine, little piggies crawling in the dirt, toiling away for an enterprise that probably produces very little, return to their homes for the evening, content to rot their brains in front of a television informing them about all the negativity in the world, then a joyless sleep to prepare for an equally joyless next day… on and on, ceaselessly into the future.
On the way home, if a generic salaryman lacks a spouse to prepare a meal for him or he lives alone and is disinclined to cook, he might perhaps stop in at any one of the small restaurants along Canterlotville’s main drag. Like Big Beulah’s Burrito Barn, a thoroughly middle-of-the-road establishment whose claim to fame is being Canterville’s first dedicated burrito eatery and building up significant local clout as a result. Its logo – a wrapped tortilla superimposed over a red silhouette of a Dutch barn, created by a starving artist for the price of about three burritos and a large soda – had long since become ubiquitous throughout the city.
The sun, unforgiving during this unseasonably warm Spring, had finally relented for the day and begun its sluggish journey below the horizon, tinting the mostly-cloudless sky a brilliant array of colours spanning the “warm” half of the rainbow. Largely orange at this point.
Aria Blaze, feet planted firmly on the sidewalk because she had learnt the hard way that spacing out in the middle of the now-busy street was for suckers, gazed into the atmospheric expanse, its hue a stark contrast to her purple skin, reminding her of a sister she had been trying to forget.
Adagio. No matter where I go, there you are, she thought bitterly. Then she decided to recall that time a finch became entangled in Adagio’s famously unruly hair. That was a good laugh. Well, maybe not for the bird or Adagio. But for Aria, it was the highlight of the month. Maybe the year. She felt a phantom pain as her cheek throbbed from the titanic slap Adagio gave her.
She slowly read the sign tacked on the inside of the door to Big Beulah’s. Alas, it was far too late in the day for the Early-Bird or Student Specials. Not that it mattered anyway, since Aria had neither money nor a valid student ID – out of school and money spent, seeing no future, she had burned her Canterville High card a few days after that life shattering Battle of the Bands, mostly to see whether the card would combust or melt (answer: melt).
For some reason that action made her other ex-sister Sonata angry – for the first time in as long as Aria could remember, that blue-skinned idiot not only screamed at her, but actually hit her, to which Aria responded by giving the girl a black eye. Adagio had made no effort to stop either of them, clearly having given up on trying to keep their trio together.
If you’re not going to stand up for me or Sonata, if you’re just going to sit there lost in your own head, wallowing in your own misery, then I really am better off without you. I never liked either of you anyway. All those years we spent together were just the worst. Making your way in the world today takes more than what they’ve got, but I can do it. Now, I can finally live my life how I want – no control freak Adagio with her plans that never work, no dumbass Sonata with her stupid words and her stupid face.
I hate this world. I hated Equestria too, but at least it wasn’t a total shithole. At least back then I could be under the sea in the shade near a cave. I can’t sing anymore. I don’t need to. I didn’t need to before Adagio took us in. I just got sick of being so dependent on her. She was holding me down, turning me round, filling me up with her rules. Fuck that. This town is one big banquet for anyone willing to go for it. Food to fill the black pit of my hunger. I’m hungry.
Suddenly a thought crossed her mind, the proverbial lightbulb in her head switching on as her standard scowl morphed into a smirk and then a truly grotesque sneer. She rubbed her hands together in glee, a feeling pushed aside as she recalled Sonata’s idea of getting an idea – the blue-skinned idiot would smile, sometimes serenely but often brightly, as she reached above her head to yank an invisible pull-string, capping her action by vocalizing the click. Aria had asked why, to which Sonata replied that it helped her visualize her “brilliant” plans.
Aria briefly wondered whether all the times she smacked Sonata upside the head had given the girl brain damage. If she had, would anyone even be able to tell? Probably not, so no use giving it any further thought.
She scanned the interior of the Burrito Barn in a manner not unlike a security camera, hoping to find some poor weak schmuck she could take advantage of. After about thirty seconds, she settled on a large man wearing an expensive-looking suit. His skin was a sickly orange and puffy, all the better to detract from his cold, beady eyes. His hair… well, Aria thought the thing atop his head was hair; it could just as easily have been a road-killed Pomeranian. Adagio’s beloved “Poof” was less ridiculous than this man’s coif. Sitting at the adjacent table was a weedy little man holding a microphone connected to a recording device, clearly interviewing the big man. When the big man spoke, his voice sounded much higher-pitched than Adagio expected given his size, with an accent that could charitably be compared to scraping scissors against a lead pipe.
Who is this asshole?
Such bombast from the man, everything was “yuge”. He was, in his own mind, the greatest thing a deity had ever made, the man with all the money and connections. Aria rolled her eyes as she thought about what his Equestrian counterpart must be like – probably some adipose Canterlot Noble of the type she and her now-ex-sisters would chew up and spit out before they even knew what hit them. He was so enraptured with himself and the interviewer that he totally ignored the large burrito sitting invitingly on the table next to him.
Okay. There’s food. It’s probably nastier than the crap Sonata always tried to cook, but I can’t be picky right now. So how do I get it? Adagio would go up to him and start rubbing his shoulders and/or crotch, then have the plate before the jerk even knows what hit him. That’s her first line of attack no matter who it is. Slut. I could do that, but I don’t need to, because I’m not flat as a pancake so I don’t have to overcompensate. Watching her try it after we lost our powers was the funniest most pathetic thing I’d seen in months. I think the kid was into flatties or something since it worked. Freak. This whole world is full of freaks. Like this orange jackoff right in front of me. D-did he just say a girl is only worth what she looks, so ugly girls are worthless?! Fucking prick. It’d still be funny to see Adagio try her moves on him, just to see her get shot down. I don’t miss her. I don’t miss Sonata.
Sonata. Now she may be more this guy’s type: top-heavy and rock-stupid. Also she looks younger than she is with that puppy face of hers, and I’m pretty sure this guy is the kind of dip who fantasizes about his daughter if he has one — aaaannnd he just said exactly that to the dude with the tape recorder. Wow. Yeah the Blue Idiot should definitely hit this twit up. Sounds like his vocabulary is about at her level too. They’re perfect for each other. Is Sonata even into guys? She kept talking about Sunset Shimmer (bitch). Every day until the Battle of the Bands it was ‘Sunset’ this and ‘Sunset’ that and ‘Maybe if we’re nice to Sunset we can work together to get us all home’. Seriously? Talk about perfect for each other – two morons who were so completely useless that even Equestria didn’t want them. At least Adagio and I got thrown here because we were good at what we did. Heh. All Sonata could do besides that tuneless screeching she called song was frill her mane crest. Same here, except now she shakes her oversized tits. Pointless. What good are they? Legs are better. Good legs speed you up; a big chest only slows you down, and big hips mean you can’t get around in tight spaces. I’m better off than either of them.
Huh. Come to think of it, I don’t think Sonata would have a chance to gank a meal off this guy either. He doesn’t really seem like the type to take on charity cases, no matter how big their boobs are. Of course, I wouldn’t help either, but at least I wouldn’t be an ass about it. Okay, yes I would. But at least I don’t walk around in an expensive suit pretending to care about the little people I had to step on to get where I am. Or, where he is. No use trying to be someone I’m not.
Where am I now? Nowhere. I have no sisters. I don’t need sisters. They only kept me back.
So what then? Aria was never one to make grandiose plans. Fuck it, she thought, Sometimes the direct approach is best.
She walked up to the orange man’s table, picked up the plastic tray holding his burrito, and walked away with it. His orange face flushed red before going nearly as purple as Aria’s, innumerable veins popping on his neck and forehead. His grey eyes, which gave a window into a man of anger on the best of days, now displayed pure hatred and malice to the point that one wondered if there might be a literal fire behind them.
And here… we… go.
He stood up, snorting like a wild boar, his height and broad frame making him appear even more menacing than he had already implied to the poor interviewer (who had by this point given up trying to salvage their meeting – indeed he silently thanked Aria for freeing him), and stomped across the room to where Aria had nearly made it to the exit. But not quite. He put his stubby-fingered hand on her shoulder and forcibly spun her around to face him.
In a just world, there would be consequences for an old man touching a teenage girl – or a girl who looks like a teenager and pretends to be but isn’t – same difference in this world, as both the Dazzlings and Sunset Shimmer often noted. But in this world as well as Equestria, justice tends to arc past the societal black holes who are the wealthy elite, like a starship that slingshots around the event horizon in a convoluted attempt to travel into the past and save whales or something.
Why did Sonata make me watch that stupid movie? Aria wondered as visions of humpbacks danced in her head.
Aria had always prided herself on being able to communicate seething hatred with just a single look – this in contrast to Adagio’s uncanny ability to utterly destroy a boy’s self-esteem, or Sonata’s face that communicated only confusion or affability – girl was never good at being bad. She gazed at the big orange man with every ounce of contempt she could muster. He responded in kind; his glare would have driven poor Sonata to tears, and even Adagio might have had a difficult time dealing with him. However, Aria had one thing her ex-sisters did not – nihilism; she was already at rock bottom, so there was really nothing the man could do to her.
Keeping her eyes locked in a glare opposite his, she lifted his burrito up to her mouth and slowly took the biggest bite she possibly could. Even more slowly, she chewed it, a tiny drop of sauce dribbling out the right corner of her mouth. The man lifted an enraged fist in preparation to bash in her skull. But before he could do anything, his expression suddenly registered confusion, then panic as a trickle of blood came out his nose as he lost his balance and crashed onto the floor, his partially outstretched right arm impacting first before getting crushed by the rest of him.
He did not move.
The interviewer ran up to the orange man, looked down at his prone body with its unblinking open eyes, then back up to Aria.
Aria levelled a bemused glare at the shocked journalist, taking another bite of burrito as he stood there, mouth agape.
“What?” she snapped.