Poor, Poor Rainbow Dash
~*~
"See you later, Dashie!" Pinkie calls up into the sky as that blue pegasus you all know and love streaks away. "Don't forget to come to my party tomorrow!"
A line of rainbow colors arches through the sky behind the retreating mare as she flies, until she's a multicolored speck beyond your normal vision. You watch her go, chewing your lower lip thoughtfully as she vanishes from sight. She's headed home to prep for some sort of Wonderbolts thing, leaving you and her five other friends behind to enjoy a cup of tea and finger sandwiches at a local Ponyville cafe.
Yeah yeah, you know it's pretty girly but hey. Cream cheese and cucumber taste good on sandwiches, and this ginger turmeric tea is pretty bomb, so fuck your toxic masculinity bullshit. You'll act like a queer whenever you damn well feel like it.
Pinkie is still waving up at the clouds, as if the other pony can still see her, but at last she turns back to you, so quickly that it feels like her limbs take longer than her head to twist your way. You swear to god, this creature called Pinkie Pie has to be made of rubber or silly putty or boogers or something. Way too much elasticity there. She grins broadly at you.
"Wow, wasn't that like super duper fun, it stinks she couldn't stay for tea, but I honestly don't know if Dash likes tea, or maybe she does, I've never asked her, oh my gosh that's it, I should throw her a tea party, then I'll know for sure!" Pinkie verbally ejaculates at you. "Then we can get together again like today but she won't have to leave because she never misses my parties and-"
"Yes darling," Rarity quickly interjects, god bless her, to stop the barage of joyous word-vomit. "A tea party sounds quite splendid and refined. Rainbow Dash is hardly refined, but she might sit still for tea as long as you call it a party."
This statement, which you take in as you daintily sip your tea like a beautiful pansy, only reenforces a notion that's taken hold of you over the last few hours. Your initial reaction was to ask Dash about it, but given her habit for aggressiveness and violence, you rethought that. Still, the idea is one you can't shake, and Rarity is only strengthening your point. She's unrefined, unorganized, she is pretty terrible at understanding basic shit, she's violent and never exactly... sits still. It's a perfect concoction of ignorance, sloppiness, and mobility. It really all does make sense!
"Is... something on your mind, Anon?" Twilight speaks up, snapping you out of your quiet brooding.
"Oh," you say, shaking your head as if to clear it. "Uh... well now that you mention it, yeah. But I'm not quite sure how to put it into words yet."
"Well shucks," Applejack says, sounding like a midwestern stereotype, just with apples instead of corn. Wait... shucks could be corn-related, so never mind. "Just spill it all out for us! Pinkie does it all the time, even when we try to get her not to. At least then it'll be more honest."
Pinkie brightens like a two year old who's just heard mention of their own name.
"I so do that! That's a really good observation Applejack, you're so good at noticing things, like that one time, at Sugarcube Corners, when I was making a cake and you said, that's not cotton candy that's wall insulation, but I didn't listen, and-"
"I do agree," Rarity interjects again, the magnificent creature that she is. "If you just tell us what you're thinking, I'm sure we can help figure it out."
Fluttershy stares into her tea and says nothing. She hasn't said much since she walked in on you naked in Twilight's shower recently. In fact, you haven't seen her blink at all since then, even though you apologized. The fact that you were doing a wiggle dance to the tune of Africa, by Toto, as you were climbing into the shower probably didn't help things. You wonder, for a moment, if she's gone catatonic. Ah well, at least she hasn't told anyone else about your little run-in.
You sigh heavily.
"Okay, well," you begin. "Have you ever noticed that Rainbow Dash doesn't live anywhere?"
Twilight blinks at you, then gives a little laugh.
"That's silly, Anon," she says. "Rainbow Dash has a beautiful home, I've even been there a few times. Pinkie went with me in her balloon, so I know for a fact she has a fine place to live. It's more spacious than most of our homes, to be honest."
Pinkie nods fervently.
"That's so so so right! We were-"
"And I've been there as well," Rarity, the queen of welcome interruptions, says. "It's a bit untidy, very cluttered in there, but it's definitely a home made in her own style."
Fluttershy continues her silence, pupils the size of pinpricks. Her lower lip trembles a little.
"That's not exactly what I mean," you say. "It's... hard to explain, but I'll give it a shot. We can all pinpoint on a map where we live, in what city we call home. Canterlot, Ponyville, Cloudsdale... all of that. Right?"
All the ponies but Fluttershy nod.
"But," you continue. "Rainbow Dash doesn't live in a city. In fact, her home isn't really anywhere. It just floats around like a cloud."
"Well it is a cloud," Applejack says. "And that's the truth of it."
"That may be true," you continue. "But it never stays in one place. It doesn't have a permanent address. Hell, I don't even know how she gets mail delivered there, to be honest."
Applejack brightens at her favorite word, but you quickly move on.
"She may live in a nice house, sure, but it's mobile. She doesn't have a home base. It might as well be... be..."
All the ponies lean in eagerly, as you try to find a different word, and fail. There really is only one way to put it.
"...a trailer!"
All the ponies gasp. Fluttershy drools out the corner of her mouth slightly.
"What in the hay do ya mean by that?" Applejack demands. "That cloud house ain't a trailer."
"But it might as well be!" you almost shout. It feels good to finally say all this out loud. "She lives in a mobile home, she lacks much formal learning beyond athletics, she's always low on bits, she has a cider addiction..."
"Anon," Twilight says matter-of-factly. "You got so drunk on cider the other day that you tried to use Spike as a skateboard to grind down all the banisters at the castle."
"That's besides the point, I would have done that sober. Anyway, she also is messy, unrefined, arrogant, and has a habit of trying to solve problems with violence. We have to face it, Rainbow Dash is actually... trailer trash!"
Another round of gasps. Then, there's an ominous silence.
"Anon," Rarity says, her voice trembling. "I don't think you ought to talk in such a way about our dear friend Dash."
"But it's true!" you say. "She has all the signs, fits all the stereotypes. Rainbow Dash might be involved in the Wonderbolts and have a steady job, but a lot of trailer trash people were once involved with, or at least support the military. Most of them are poor, and Dash doesn't have a whole lot of money either. It doesn't make them bad people for being that way, not exactly, but it does make them... just... trashy! Yes, I'm sure of it now. Dash is the Equestrian version of trailer trash!"
All the other ponies are staring at you in open horror, but you're not backing down from this. This idea has been bugging you for too long now, and you have to get it off your chest. You're not sure if this means you all need to help her, or if she should be exiled from your group at the first sign of her being interested in a lower back or neck tattoo, or...
You abruptly notice that the eyes of your friends aren't on you. They're all looking behind you. Upwards.
You feel a sinking sensation in your gut, as you gradually turn around, hoping beyond hope you won't see what you think they're looking at. But sure enough, there she is. Rainbow Dash, in all her lower-class trashy brilliance. And she's holding what appears to be a shotgun.
Dash eyes you up and down appraisingly, like she's trying to pick apart your insides with her gaze. Then, she turns her head and spits onto the ground, before wiping her mouth on the back of her hoof, and glaring at you.
"You know," she says, her voice suddenly different, her accent more twangy than before. "I try to keep myself all nice when I hang out with you. Try to seem all fancy whenever I can so that I can relate to all of you... besides Appleajack, anyway. She gets me. But I come back to hear you talking shit like this? Callin me trashy? Telling people I'm trailer trash?"
She spits again, and the barrel of the gun begins to rise.
"Well I don't like it," she says in a growl. "No, not one bit. Sounds like disloyalty to me."
You hear the rack noise from the shotgun, and it sets you into motion. With a screaming cry, you bolt from the table in a full sprint, and begin running away from the cafe as fast as you possibly can. Dash follows at a low, swooping flap as she takes aim at you. You serpentine like a special olympics champion, and she narrowly misses you with the first shot. You continue to shriek as the two of you streak off into the outskirts of town, her gunshots echoing in your wake.
Behind you, your group of friends watch you go. After a moment, Applejack shakes her head and heaves a hefty sigh.
"Shoulda known better than to insult that mare," she says. "She don't take kindly to that kinda talk."
"Agreed," Rarity says. "I recall when I insulted her intellect, and how long it took to pick the buckshot out of my rear. I still have scars."
"Yeah!" Pinkie practically shouts. "Remember the time when I was pulling pranks with her and I called her a hick, and then she grabbed me by my face and-"
"I SAW ANON NAKED IN THE SHOWER THE OTHER DAY AND EVERYTHING WAS JIGGLY!" Fluttershy suddenly screams.
The entire table goes silent. After a moment, Rarity leans towards Fluttershy, her eyes narrowing.
"...tell me more."
Another gunshot echoes in the distance.
-END-