> Rarity Does Her Taxes > by Coyotek4 > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > One rainy day in Ponyville ... > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- A steady rain falls over Ponyville on one particular morning. The perfect day for this, the proprietor of Carousel Boutique thinks to herself. Her sewing machine off to the side of her workstation, Rarity performs one last check of requirements. Fresh package of quills? Check. Ink? Check. Equestrian tax form? Check. Instruction booklet for Equestrian tax form? Check. Summaries of invoices? Check. Abacus? Check. This is the year, the fashionista says to herself. No more relying on other ponies to do this work. I’m more than capable of doing this myself. As her horn begins to glow, she opens the package of quills, levitates one, and dips the tip into a fresh well of ink, then scans the first question on the form … “MORNING, RARITY!!!” The abrupt interruption causes Rarity to lose focus, and the quill dots the workstation with a dab of ink, the tip snapping in half upon making contact with the desk. “Oh for …” Taking a deep breath, Rarity levitates the now-broken quill to a trash receptacle and discards it, then levitates a fresh quill from the package. Before dipping the fresh quill into the ink, she takes another breath and turns to the source of the interruption while forcing out a pleasant smile. “Good morning, Sweetie Belle. If you need me to make breakfast, I’ll be ready in just a few minutes. I just want to at least get started on this work.” Sweetie Belle inspects the contents of her sister’s workstation. “What’s all this for? Looks like a lot of paperwork; are you helping Twilight out with a project?” “Oh, nothing of the sort,” Rarity answers matter-of-factly. “It’s just that time of the year again, when all of-age ponies fill out their Equestrian tax forms.” “What about that nice construction pony who always does mom and dad’s forms?” “Handy Brick? Yes, he’s always done well by me in the past, but it’s getting harder and harder to schedule an appointment with him. Besides, I really feel that I am much too intelligent to rely on some other pony to do this work, and in any case, he’s really gotten egotistical ever since he had his name legally changed to ‘H and Y Brick’. I mean really; you feel compelled to make your name sound like its own business?” “Didn’t you name your last boutique ‘Rarity For You’?” “Well that’s totally different,” Rarity answers defensively. “I named the store after me; I didn’t change my name to sound like some soulless corporation.” “Is there anything I can do to help?” Rarity chuckles at her sister’s offer. “Oh, you’re so kind to offer assistance, but there really isn’t much you can do here. If you like, though, you can watch how I fill out this form, so you’ll be able to tackle this on your own when you’re old enough.” Looking out the window at the steady rain, Sweetie Belle nods an ‘OK’ in acceptance of her sister’s offer. She walks over to her sister’s special ‘fainting’ couch and nudges it with her head over to the workstation, thinking to herself how lucky she is to have already gotten her cutie mark; the idea of earning said mark for tax preparation sends a small shiver down her back. Once the couch is close enough to the workstation, she hops onto it like a booster seat and observes her sister’s work. “Well then,” Rarity continues as she turns back to the tax form. “Let’s start with something simple: ‘Name’.” She proceeds to fill out ‘Rarity Unicorn’ on the form. “I think you got that part in the wrong place,” Sweetie Belle suggests as she indicates the series of checkboxes in the next field: ‘Unicorn’, ‘Pegasus’, ‘Earth Pony’, ‘Alicorn’, ‘Other’. “Oh dear, I think you’re right.” Rarity proceeds to cross out ‘Unicorn’ from her name and check the corresponding box. “There’s just so much space for one’s name in that field.” “Isn’t your full name ‘Rarity Flanks-Crumbles’?” Rarity bites her lip for a moment. “Well … yes, I suppose it is.” With the little space remaining in the field, Rarity squeezes in her last name as her sister detects a slight groan. “Do any of your friends even know your last name?” Rarity turns to her sister and glares. “Do any of your ‘Cutie Mark Crusader’ friends know your last name?” Sweetie Belle’s eyes dart to their corners. “Uh, no, I guess not.” “Don’t get me wrong,” Rarity continues as she turns back to the tax form, “I love our parents very much … but there are aspects about them that I get a little … well, embarrassed about. Now then …” She continues scanning and filling in the top portion of the form. “Rarity? What’s ‘Personal ID Number’? I never heard of it, and Miss Cheerilee never taught it to us.” “Oh, well everypony is issued a personal identification number at birth. They’re used to keep track of all civilized creatures in Equestria.” “But why?” her sister persists. “I suppose to avoid confusion, in case multiple ponies have the same name.” “Really? So you think that somewhere else in Equestria there’s another ‘Rarity’? Or another ‘Sweetie Belle’?” “I know there’s a ‘Sugar Belle’ in Starlight’s old village,” Rarity is quick to answer. “And think about it: there are thousands, if not tens of thousands, of ponies all about Equestria. There simply aren’t enough names for everypony’s to be unique.” Sweetie Belle ponders her sister’s comment. “Do you think you’ll ever meet another ‘Rarity’?” “I suppose anything is possible,” her sister replies as she scans the rest of the front page of the tax form. “Do you think the other Rarity will be like you? Another fashion designer?” Rarity scoffs at the notion. “Please, Sweetie Belle. There are many fashion ponies in Equestria, but only one Rarity.” “But you just said—“ “I’m sure that this ‘other’ Rarity you envision is special in some other field, like music or … engineering. And who’s to say that this other Rarity is even a unicorn? It’s certainly possible that there’s a pegasus with the same name as myself, or even an earth pony.” Rarity pauses in thought. “Well, perhaps a pegasus, anyway.” “Well, what about your friends? You think there’s another Twilight Sparkle out there?” Rarity turns to her sister. “Sweetie Belle, I’ve already learned about a Sunset Shimmer and we’ve met a Starlight Glimmer. I’d be surprised if there wasn’t another Twilight Sparkle out there.” “Wow. Can you imagine going through life with the same name as an alicorn princess?” Rarity cringes at the thought. “I’m sure it isn’t easy for said pony, constantly living in the shadow of one’s namesake.” “And could you imagine a pegasus with the name ‘Pinkie Pie’? Or a unicorn?” “Oh sweet Celestia, Pinkie Pie is quirky enough as an earth pony! Now please, I’ve been sidetracked enough.” Rarity turns back to the form and begins the main section. “Let’s see, ‘dependents’ …” “What are ‘dependents’?” “Basically, anypony who you take care of who can’t take care of him- or herself. Like Mr. and Mrs. Cake; they have two sweet, adorable foals to raise, so combined, they have two dependents.” “Three if you count Pinkie Pie.” Rarity chuckles. “No, Sweetie Belle, Pinkie Pie would not count as a ‘dependent’ for the Cakes.” “But why not? Doesn’t she live in Sugarcube Corner? She’s practically a big sister to Pound and Pumpkin.” “I’m sure Pinkie Pie fills out her taxes like all other able-bodied ponies,” Rarity asserts with an air of confidence. Or at least, I hope she does; I daresay the back-taxes she’d owe after so many years could be a problem. “So Rarity, do I count as a dependent?” “Well, you do for mom and dad. You live with them, so I assume they still claim you as a dependent.” “But I spend a lot of time with you, too. Can’t you all claim me as a dependent?” “I’m afraid it doesn’t work that way, Sweetie Belle. You can’t be claimed as a dependent by multiple ponies; it’s simply not allowed.” “Then why do mom and dad still claim you as a dependent?” “WHAT!!?” Sweetie Belle’s query causes Rarity to lose concentration as her quill flies off and lands on an unfinished dress; a bead of ink subsequently runs down said dress, stirring more anger. “Oh, for the love of …” Rarity quickly levitates cloth towels and solvents towards the ink stain to undo the damage done to the dress. As she works to clean off the ink, she addresses her sister. “What do you mean, mom and dad still claim me as a dependent? I run my own business now!” “I just remember them claiming both of us last year when we went to ‘H and Y Brick’.” “I need to have a long conversation with mom and dad,” Rarity fumes. “Do they know how much trouble I could get into? They haven’t gone to do their taxes this year yet, have they?” “No, I think they scheduled an appointment next weekend. Maybe you should just come with us, and we can all do them at the same time.” “I don’t need to go back to Handy Brick,” Rarity angrily insists. She takes a breath to regain composure before continuing. “I just need to calmly remind our parents that I am a big mare now, and I no longer rely on their assistance. Now then, where was I … ah yes, I need to fill this form out.” Rarity levitates a fresh page of the tax form to the forefront: ‘Business Form’. She scans the form and quietly gulps. “My, there certainly are a lot of boxes on this form.” “Are you sure you can do this, Rarity? There’s no shame in just having—“ “I got this,” Rarity quickly asserts. “I just need to go through each of these boxes in turn. Now let’s see … ‘Carousel Boutique’ … code 448120 … ah, gross receipts or sales.” “ ‘Gross’ receipts? What’s so gross about all of this?” “It’s just a figure of speech,” Rarity answers as she levitates the abacus and begins moving the beads back and forth. “Not ‘gross’ as in … off-putting.” “I think Scootaloo would consider most anything associated with dress-up as ‘gross’.” “Yes, well I think a good portion of Rainbow Dash has rubbed off on your friend Scootaloo. Some ponies simply have no sense of taste for the finer things in life. Like Rainbow Dash … and especially Applejack.” “So what does ‘gross’ mean for taxes?” “ ‘Gross’ refers to the total amount of bits I take in from the sale of dresses and accessories, before factoring in expenses like raw materials and labor. Anything I earn after factoring in expenses is referred to as ‘net’.” “Wait, so ‘net’ also has a new meaning? I thought a net is something you catch butterflies in. Or tomatoes. Last week, Apple Bloom bet I couldn’t catch a tomato in the net, and … well, it ended up impaled on my horn. Actually, that was kinda gross.” “That’s nice, darling,” Rarity asides as she continues to work the abacus while surveying numerous receipts. Sweetie Belle thinks better of accusing her sister of not paying attention, and instead peruses the receipts. “Wow, you really sold a lot of dresses this year!” “Business was good this year,” Rarity replies as she lowers the abacus and re-levitates her quill. “And then there was the rapid expansion of my brand. Canterlot. Manehattan. Why, at this rate I may be able to expand to more cities. Las Pegasus, perhaps? Or maybe Baltimare.” “What about Fillydelphia?” Rarity’s eyes narrow as she shakes her head. “There are … ‘experiences’, that I’ve had in Fillydelphia that I’d rather not get into at the present time. Suffice to say, I’m giving that city a wide berth until further notice.” “Wait, you’ve been to Fillydelphia? When?” “A couple times, and those trips … well, they didn’t go particularly well.” Seeking to change the subject, Rarity turns back to the form. “OK, now for expenses,” she says as she once again works the abacus, accounting for raw materials and labor costs. As Rarity calculates, her sister peruses the instructions for filling out the tax form. She pauses at an unfamiliar term, then innocently asks, “Rarity, what does ‘W2’ stand for?” Rarity sets down the abacus and turns to Sweetie Belle. “Honestly, I don’t know. But I don’t have to worry about that section; I’m my own boss. W2s are only for those in the employ of others.” “You mean like Sassy Saddles? And Coco Pommel?” “Exactly,” Rarity continues to explain, “they would require a W2 to complete their own tax forms. They would get those forms from their … employer … uh oh …” her eye twitches involuntarily; moments later, Rarity shuffles copious amounts of paper around, searching for information. “What’s wrong?” Sweetie Belle asks, taken aback by her sister’s sudden change in temperament. “I forgot to send out W2s to Sassy and Coco!” Rarity admits as she searches through various receipts. “All that expansion of my business … I never had employees managing my stores before. It completely slipped my mind.” “Maybe this year you should just go back to H and Y Brick, like mom and dad always do. There’s no shame in asking for help.” Rarity abruptly turns to her sister as papers scatter and fall to the ground. “For the last time, I don’t need to see Handy Brick! I can figure this out perfectly well enough on my own! Now … I’m sure you have schoolwork to catch up on, so why not work on that while I figure everything out here.” Sweetie Belle quietly nods her head, turns, and strolls away as Rarity levitates the fallen pages back into a cohesive order. The tax forms back in orderly fashion, she again pores through receipts while working the abacus. Morning turns to mid-afternoon. Sweetie Belle, having completed an upcoming assignment, pops back in to check on her sister’s progress. “All caught up on my schoolwork, sis,” the foal cheerfully declares. “Some of my classmates say we’re learning about probability next week. Maybe Miss Cheerilee will have us run a casino or something. That could be interesting.” She hops back on the couch and looks over Rarity’s work. “So how are you holding up?” “Sweetie Belle, you’re just in time!” Rarity’s tone of self-confidence brings a sigh of relief from her sister. “I told you that I could do all this on my own, and I have! All that’s left to do now is total everything up and see what I owe this great nation of Equestria.” “That’s awesome, sis! I, uh, knew you could do it!” Rarity smiles at the sight of Sweetie Belle’s eyes reaching for their corners. “The way you lie, you could be related to Applejack … but I appreciate your support all the same. Now then …” For the final time, Rarity levitates the abacus; the beads whir back and forth as the elder unicorn sibling totals all her earnings and costs. “Two hundred … carry the 10 … and that comes to … wait, that can’t be right. Let me start that again.” The abacus still magically floating in air, Rarity pushes all the beads back to one side and recalculates. Minutes later … “THIRTY-SIX HUNDRED BITS??? HOW IN EQUESTRIA DO I OWE THIRTY-SIX HUNDRED BITS?” Rarity scans the entirety of her main tax form, looking for some omission or discrepancy to explain her surprising deficiency. A look of concern grows on Sweetie Belle’s visage. “Rarity? Are you going to lose your home and business?” “No, no, certainly not,” Rarity replies as she continues to scan her tax form. “I’m just missing something from last year’s form, is all. I’ve never owed bits to Equestria before, and I doubt such is the case now.” “Well if you need assistance this year, I’m sure your friends can help you out. I mean, you’ve always been generous with others.” Rarity stops and looks up, the word ‘generous’ having sparked a memory. “Wait a minute. Of course! That’s what I’ve forgotten!” “What, that you’re generous? Rarity, aren’t you the Element of Generosity?” Rarity levitates open the instruction booklet as she explains: “I haven’t forgotten who I am, Sweetie Belle, I just forgot one of the implications regarding my tax forms. I forgot to mark down on my form all the deductions related to donations.” “So … you gave away thirty-six hundred bits this year?” “ ‘Gave away’ is a bit strong, dearie. I believe in helping out social causes. United Neigh, Fillybundance, those kinds of things. I do that, of course, because I think it’s the right thing to do; those with the means ought to help out those unable to help themselves.” After several turnings of pages, Rarity comes across the section dealing with tax write-offs. She gulps at the sheer size of the section. “Oh my, this is a bit more complicated than I remember.” “Did Filthy Rich make any changes while he was mayor?” “Even if that were the case, that would be at the local level, not associated with all of Equestria.” Having answered her sister’s question, Rarity scans through the instructions. Her eyes glaze as she pours through column after column. 10% of proceeds … fill out subsection PT-37 … if total income is greater than 20,000 bits, proceed to worksheet QZ-238 … indicate specifics of … fill out in triplicate … Seeing her sister teetering and losing balance, Sweetie Belle instinctively leaps off the couch and nudges it to behind Rarity, who promptly collapses on top of it as she loses consciousness. Rarity? … Rarity? … Are you OK? … Rarity’s eyes flicker open, and she sees her sister staring at her supine figure. She sighs, then turns to address her sister face-to-face. “Sweetie Belle?” “Yes Rarity?” “As you pointed out,” she starts, “I am the Element of Generosity, am I not?” “Uh … yeah?” Sweetie Belle responds uneasily. “And generosity means many things … and one of them is offering gainful employment to others when possible. Would you agree with that sentiment?” Sweetie Belle pauses for a moment. “I guess so.” “Well I’m very glad to hear that from you.” Rarity lets out one final sigh … “Grab an umbrella. We’re going to H and Y Brick.”