Colossal Spike
Excitement didn’t begin to describe it.
Ever since the day Spike the dragon had first laid eyes upon his Venus in white, she had dominated the portions of his brain that were not devoted to comic books or lunch. She was his muse; the inspiration that encouraged him to put his all into each day’s toil, and the cozy hug that coiled around his thoughts to tuck him into sweet dreams each night. He had rescued her from every peril his subconscious mind could conjure up a thousand times over, and he would do it all again just to be the beneficiary of her fabulous smile.
Today she needed him - badly enough, it seemed, to send a special invitation his way. It would not be the first time Spike had ever rendered aid to his lady of course, but he could count on one claw the number of times that aid had not been the result of being in the right place at the right time, or had simply funnelled through his mistress, Princess Twilight Sparkle. This time, it had to be special.
Ponyville’s sovereign was at the heels of her assistant as Spike sped through the streets of their hometown. She might have been winded had she not twice as many legs with which to match his pace, but she yelped all the same when it became necessary to beat her wings and sail over a produce cart she nearly clipped while following Spike around a tight bend.
“Spike!” The princess finally called. “Slow down! You’re going to run into somepony!”
“No time!” The little dragon yelled without turning his head, as he squinted defiantly into the afternoon sun. “She said it was urgent!”
Twilight wanted to point out that everything was urgent where Rarity was concerned, but she chose to give her unicorn friend the benefit of the doubt instead. She came up beside her assistant at a light gallop so as to avoid passing him, and noticed the puffing of his breath as he ran. Despite it, she thought the better of offering her back for him to ride upon. Normally the infantile dragon would be happy to accept a free ride, but she knew he would never allow himself to rush to Rarity’s proverbial rescue atop his surrogate mother, save for in the presence of a bridle, a cape, and a silver lance. Twilight too had a reputation to maintain, and thus none of that was ever going to happen.
“Did she say in her letter what exactly she wants you for?”
“Nope!” Spike sang. “But she said that I’m the only one who can help, and the paper smelled like lavender! So it has to be really important!”
Twilight nabbed an apple from a fruit cart in passing, and sent two bits on their way to the vendor in the raspberry glow of her magic. She helped herself to a bite before responding. “Lavender paper makes it more important?”
“Would you put all that extra effort into making the paper smell good if it weren’t?” Spike said dreamily. “I’m going to keep that letter forever...it’s gonna go right next to the mane clippings from that one time we bumped into her at the salon…”
“Um, ew,” Twilight snorted. “Spike, I’m not sure why anypony would add a scent to a sheet of paper just to upscale the importance of what they write on it, but given that we’re talking about Rarity, she probably just happens to have scented stationery already…”
“She needs me!” Spike nearly swooned in the face of his own declaration, and didn’t even notice the rock Twilight magicked out of his path to prevent him from tripping. “Me! I’m the only one who can save her!”
“I don’t think the letter quite put her peril that way…”
Spike wasn’t listening. The gilded windowboxes of the Carousel Boutique were looming before the pair, and Spike’s knuckles had already come down on the front door three times before Twilight finished her thought.
“Oh my, forgive me,” a muffled but familiar voice replied from inside. “I’m afraid we’re closed today, as I have a special engagement which requires my full attention. Do come back tomorrow, yes?”
Spike turned to Twilight with a giddy look. “See? A special engagement! She wants to engage me with a special engagement!” He rapped on the door once again, before Twilight could get a word in edgewise. “Rarity! It’s me, your very special somepony! Uh, I mean, special dragon, uh...dragon who wants to do the specially engaging thing, er, uh...with you...uh…”
Twilight rolled her eyes. “You know that ‘special engagement’ and ‘getting engaged’ are not the same thing, right?”
“Y-you don’t know!”
Twilight sighed and added her voice to the inquiry. “Rarity? It’s Spike and Twilight. I hope you don’t mind that I tagged along, but I wanted to make certain everything’s okay?”
“Oh, Twilight!” The voice replied. “Certainly don’t mind at all dear, you’re quite welcome! Come in, come in, it’s open!”
Spike eagerly obliged. Beyond the threshold was the quintessential image of the Carousel Boutique, complete with a host of nicely-dressed mannequins arranged about the showroom for optimum customer perusal. The establishment might have been open for business with such decor, had it not been for the presence of myriad sewing supplies strewn about the tables and portions of the floor. Rarity’s work was her art after all, and the clutter suggested she was hard at it.
The matriarch of the shop repeated her greeting blindly, her attention focused entirely upon a small workbench. “Come in, come in! I’m almost ready for you Spike dear, thank you very much for turning out on such notice. I simply cannot think of anypony else who could assist me in such a pinch as I find myself in today!”
Spike trotted into the showroom with Twilight in tow. He jerked a thumb in Rarity’s direction and waggled his brows.
“See? What’d I tell ya? Rarity needs me, and only I can save her!”
“Indubitably dear!” Rarity agreed. “You’re quite the lifesaver!”
The fashionista was in full creative mode, with a measuring tape draped about her shoulders and her red cheater glasses resting upon her muzzle. Her rump was pointed in the direction of her visitors, placing whatever she was doing just out of sight.Twilight breathed a sigh of relief as she glanced around the room.
“Oh, so there’s no emergency or anything like that,” the princess observed. “I was a little worried on our way over here.”
“Au contraire my dear,” Rarity continued without looking up. “There very much is an emergency! And with such short notice, only Spike can assist me in overcoming it.”
Spike was practically glowing. He puffed up his chest and squared his shoulders, swelling with bravado. “Wh-what can I do? I’m ready for anything! You just say the word and I’ll save you from every changeling in the hive!”
Twilight giggled. “I don’t think Thorax would want to do anything to Rarity that she’d need to be saved from, Spike.”
“Th-the old hive!” Spike corrected. “You know what I mean!”
Rarity waved a foreleg in the general direction of her companions. “Spike dear, would you do me the teeniest, tiniest favor and step up on the dressing platform?”
Spike glanced at the raised dais Rarity used to fit her customers. It was surrounded in a semicircle by full-length mirrors, with the elegant unicorn and her tiny workbench off to one side.
“You mean...you just need me to try on clothes?”
“Pretty please, Spikey-wikey-poo?”
Spike was on the platform in half a second. He stared at half a dozen images of himself, his delusions of grandeur rapidly fading. “Wait a minute...are you gonna dress me up like a Prench troubadour again? ‘Cause last time I ended up with ruffles stuck in my--”
“Oh psh!” Rarity interrupted. “Nothing of the sort! Though you were so handsome in that ensemble.”
“Totally handsome!” Spike immediately agreed. “Let’s do it again!”
Twilight shook her head and chuckled. Rarity went on.
“You see dear, the other day I had a flash of inspiration whilst recalling a previous flash of inspiration which occurred to me last fall, but given that I was already dealing with another flash of inspiration involving culottes and high-hooved sandals at the time, I couldn’t deal with the first inspiration until recently, when I received a flash of inspiration regarding it.”
“...come again?”
“--and because of said flash of inspiration being as highly inconvenient as flashes of inspiration tend to be,” Rarity took a short breath, I now have a bit of a scheduling conundrum. I simply must know if this new line is going to work out in practice before I debut my late-season designs in Manehattan next week, and to accomplish that I must have a male model. So of course dear, I thought of you.”
Spike flexed a bicep and blatantly kissed it. “Well, I admit that I do give off a pretty manly aura, heh heh…”
“Oh Spike,” Twilight giggled quietly as she settled herself onto a couch.
“Well then,” Rarity announced. “Without further ado, let us begin. Voila!”
With that, Rarity swept away from her little workbench to reveal an assortment of long, flat tubes stretched along its surface. On closer inspection, each tube appeared to be constructed from wool or heavy cotton, with a few cut from polar fleece. Each tube was tipped by an elastic opening at one end, and all of them bore colorful patterns or designs ranging from the onset of fall to winter wrap-up.
Spike squinted. “Sooo...you want me to try on socks.”
Rarity inspected the garments herself, thrusting out her lower lip in thought. “I prefer to refer to them as ‘cozies’, but I suppose that’s the long and short of it, yes. Shall we then?”
Disappointed that the encounter wasn’t shaping up to his lofty expectations, Spike shrugged. “Sure I guess, but…” He stuck out a leg long enough to shake it. “They look a little long for me.”
Rarity emitted a curious giggle in response and waved a hoof dismissively. “Certainly you’re just being modest, dear! After all, you know what they say about dragons!”
“Uh...that we...breathe fire?”
“Not quite what I was referring to,” Rarity smirked, “but we’ll find out soon enough.” She lit her horn, and in an instant a stocking with a particularly gaudy Hearth’s Warming theme was enveloped in a sapphire glow. It left the table on its own and was soon hanging in the air just before the dragon. Spike absently raised his right leg again, as though he were being fitted for loafers.
“Still not quite sure why you need me to wear socks,” he muttered. “Anypony can do that, and my legs are different from pony legs too…”
Rarity eyed the strange spectacle of the one-legged dragon and the magical floating stocking. “Legs? Why whatever do you mean, dear?”
Spike just stared down at his own purple knee. “Uh...my legs? To try on the socks with?”
Rarity’s giggle returned, and this placed a hoof over her lips this time to stifle it. “Oh my sweet Spikey-wikey, you’re just so adorable when you’re being silly.”
“...huh? Do you want me to put them on my arms or something?” Spike pondered. “I know that works for ponies just fine but it would make things kinda awkward for me…”
“You misunderstand, darling,” Rarity explained. “The purpose of this line is to provide comfort, support, style, and most importantly insulation against the biting cold of winter, for stallions. Perhaps now you understand why I require a male model?”
Spike stared dumbly at the floating stocking, his leg still in the air to meet it. Only Twilight, who blanched from her spot on the couch, spoke up.
“Rarity...what do you call this new line?”
“Oh, but I have come up with the catchiest name! They’re called ‘Cox Cozies’!” Rarity waved her hoof in the air as though reading from a theater marquee. “Cox Cozies - protect your cox from the chilly-pox! Isn’t it brilliant!?”
Twilight gaped. “You...can’t be serious.”
“But of course I am!” Rarity replied smartly. “I simply cannot believe nopony came up with such an idea sooner!”
“...chilly-pox?”
Rarity waggled her hoof again. “Oh, it doesn’t matter what it means, dear. This is advertising! Flashy presentation and a catchy slogan outweigh logic any day, and these-” she yanked the floating stocking closer, “-are guaranteed to be the next article of ‘can’t live without it’ chic, once every billboard from Manehattan to Canterlot features a strapping young stallion wearing them! Why, even the ladies will want to get a cozy for their very special somepony, to keep him warm in the wintertime. In a few years, all of Equestria will wonder how they ever got by without one!” She smirked, “Well, half of them will I suppose, but still!”
“Wait…” Spike swallowed, leg still in the air. “You want me to whatnow?”
“Model them for me dear, model them!” Rarity cried triumphantly, thrusting the ‘cozy’ back towards the dragon. “Why, you could be a celebrity, dear! The first to ever wear a world famous Cox Cozy!”
Spike went cross-eyed staring at a knitted image of a windigo on the side of the cozy that was practically brushing his snout. Some of his babbling remained coherent. “...wants to put a sock on my...Rarity wants me to put a sock on my...what does it mean when a mare asks you to…?”
Rarity clapped her hooves. “Chop chop! Time is bits!”
Spike did a double-take in the mirror at himself. “B-but I’m not, I mean, i-it’s not...you know…”
“Yes yes, obviously,” Rarity quipped. “But that’s easily remedied, yes? Make with it dear! We have nearly two dozen designs to get through!”
Spike sputtered, “I can’t just...just like that though…”
“Rarity!” Twilight was on her hooves. “I’m surprised at you! Asking Spike to do something like this.”
Spike wasn’t certain whom to side with. “I...uh...yeah! I-I mean I wanna help, but I can’t just--”
“Spike’s a baby dragon!” Twilight exclaimed. “He couldn’t wear one of those things even if he wanted to!”
“What? Hey! I can too wear--!”
“Be that as it may,” Rarity replied, oblivious to the dragon, “he’s not that much younger than you or I, is he? I mean you did hatch him before you even got your cutie mark, did you not?”
Twilight sighed. “Yes, but despite our limited knowledge of dragons, it’s clear that they age slower than we do. Spike is probably like two or something.”
“Two!?” Spike choked. “I’ll have you know that I have stolen Playmare magazines from under Starlight’s bed and enjoyed them just fine!!”
“He understands adult concepts, so clearly his mind develops similarly to ours over the same amount of time,” Twilight continued analytically, “but so far as I can tell through what limited research materials are available, physically he isn’t much more than a hatchling.”
“A hatchling!?” Indignant, Spike swiped the festive elastic stocking out of the air. “I’ll show you who’s a hatchling!”
Twilight tilted her head and glanced in the direction of her assitant. “Oh don’t worry Spike, I’ll explain this so that you don’t have to do anything more. Um...why are you so upset?”
Spike held aloft the sock as though professing upon the power of Castle Grayskull. “I have a code to uphold!”
“Dragon code covers Cox Cozies?” Rarity piqued. “How fantastic! Why, a few negotiations with Dragon Lord Ember and there’ll be a whole new territory to market in!”
“Not dragon code,” Spike insisted. “Guy code! You can’t just go around telling guys that they can’t...you know!”
“I know what?” Twilight asked obliviously. Spike executed a crotch-chop, sparing his audience the companion pelvic thrust.
“That! You can’t just go around telling guys they’re not capable of...that! Male pride is at stake!”
“But you can’t do that…”
“How would you know??”
“Well,” Twilight concluded, “I’ve certainly never seen you do that before.”
“You’re like my mom Twilight! That makes you the living embodiment of shrinkage!”
“Well that was uncalled for,” Twilight huffed.
“Oh don’t worry about it dear,” Rarity smiled, gently patting her friend’s withers. “I’m sure you’re quite the head turner in your own way, too!”
“What’s that supposed to mean!?” Twilight blurted.
“The point is-!” Spike exclaimed, “I can wear two dozen...sock thingies as well as any stallion! All at the same time if I wanna, so bring it on!”
Rarity rubbed her chin and squinted. “I’m not sure they stretch that far, but...wait-” she brightened suddenly, “-ideeeeaaa! Magnum sized! Oh, whyever did I not think of that before!? I’ve clad the masses and forgotten ponies like Applejack’s dear big brother!”
“And me!” Spike chimed.
“Oh Spike,” Rarity chuckled. “You’re so silly!”
“But...but what about what they say about dragons…” Spike whimpered, his crests drooping. “I-it’s totally true...whatever it is they say…”
Twilight spoke up. “Well I guess my brother would probably appreciate that too Rarity, so on that point at least I can’t really argue. But the entire concept of these...things,” She glanced at the table of cozies, “...there’s really something you need to understand about how stallions work. You see-” The princess paused when she noticed the look from her two companions. “...what?”
Rarity cleared her throat. “Pardon me dear, but how exactly do you know that your brother would benefit from my latest inspiration?”
Twilight shrugged. “I dunno, maybe because I lived with him for the better part of two decades and he doesn’t wear pants?”
Rarity held a limp fetlock out and then slowly straightened her hoof. “But Twilight dear, it would be somewhat difficult to gauge such a thing while...at rest, shall we say.”
Twilight couldn’t help but put her teacher’s cap on. “Rarity, the average stallion experiences approximately a dozen...of those every day, half of which occur in his sleep. Also, contrary to popular belief, they can be brought about by mere comfort, not just arousal. So yes, I can most certainly ‘gauge it’. However, they can’t just put it up and down like a lever, so what you’re trying to do here today is...wait…” She paused, derailing her own train of thought, “...Big Mac?”
Rarity blushed. “I-I’m making an assumption, darling! It’s in his name, after all! Why else would a stallion be called ‘big’ yes?”
“Maybe because he’s tall?” Twilight sighed and turned away. “Come on Spike, let’s...Spike?” The princess noted that her assistant was purposefully looking in the opposite direction and not answering her summons. “Spike, what’s the matter?”
Spike cupped the claw that did not have a stranglehold on a cox cozy to his ear. “Who is this ‘Spike’ you speak of? I’m Big Sp--no, HUGE Spike! Colossal Spike!”
“What an excellent runway name!” Rarity chimed. “Why, we could put you on the billboards instead! Just imagine it - modelling sensation ‘Colossal Spike’ on the side of every taxi carriage and vending machine! You’d be depicted lounging under an umbrella with a pair of Ray-Bans, warm as can be in the dead of winter - thanks to Cox Cozies!”
Spike struck a pose that Twilight made a mental note to magically unsee later. “That’s right!” He howled, stars in his eyes. “I’ll be famous! I can wear them ALL!”
“Precisely!” Rarity agreed. “Now, let us begin!”
“Wha…?”
“Begin, dear,” Rarity repeated, spinning her hooves in Spike’s direction. “A model must first model. So, if you please, yes?”
Spike glanced between the sock in his claw and his own bulbous tummy. “Oh, right. Uhh…”
Rarity stepped close to the dais, within Spike’s personal space bubble. Her eyes were like spotlights atop prison watchtowers, and she tilted her head in blatant inspection of that same scaly pot belly. She squinted.
“Come to think of it...where exactly is it, dear?”
“Where’s what?”
“You know, it. I’ve never actually seen it before, now that I think about it. Don’t dragons keep them in the same place?”
“Of course we do!!”
Twilight, seeing that she had little choice but to wax educational again, rested her forehead in a hoof and sighed. “He’s a reptile, Rarity. There’s an extra flap of scales down there, and it only comes out when it’s needed.”
“Well I need it!” Rarity whined, her pitch dramatically rising. She batted her lashes at Spike. “Surely you’ll do it for me, Spikey-wikey-sweetie?”
“She needs my…” Spike drooled, “...Rarity said she needs my…”
Twilight folded her forelegs and waited for the delusions in her assistant’s head to coagulate. Then she pointed at him. “There, see? I told you he can’t do that. He’s too young!”
Spike shook his head, the balloon of his revelry lanced by his mother’s condemnation. “I-I can so!!”
“I for one believe in you Spike,” Rarity smiled. “Now then, if you please.”
Spike irked. “I can’t just do it right out of nowhere when you’re all staring at me!”
“But whyever not, dear?”
“Because! It just doesn’t work like that!!”
“Oh! Oh dear me, you’re uncomfortable, aren’t you. How silly of me.” Rarity waved a hoof in Twilight’s direction and softened her voice. “Twilight, I’m sorry, but...I think you might be making poor Spike uncomfortable.”
“Me!?”
Rarity looked genuinely apologetic. “I’m afraid so. Would you be a dear and maybe step into the kitchen for a few minutes? I have a pitcher of the most divine strawberry lemonade in the fridge. Help yourself!”
“That’s not the problem here!” Twilight riposted. “The problem is that this is biologically impossible!”
“Oh, but darling, all he has to do is put it up.”
“Well it’s down, and it’s going to stay down!” Twilight declared.
Rarity raised a hoof. “Up!”
Twilight lowered her ears. “Down!”
“Up!
“Down!”
“Up!”
“Down!”
“Up!”
“For the love of Celestia!” Spike shouted. “You’re both wrong, and I’m not a joystick!” The little dragon hopped off the dais and made for the door. “Honestly, I’m just gonna go home and steal some more of Starlight’s old Playmares...I have stress to burn off…”
“Did you say Playmare, dear?” Rarity asked.
Spike paused, and nodded slightly without turning around.
“Do you have the Summer Sun Celebration edition from...I believe it was eight years ago?”
Spike stopped. “I dunno...why?”
“Well, I did a little modelling in my youth you see, and--”
Spike moved so fast that he somehow managed to kick up a cloud of dust in Rarity’s immaculate abode. When it cleared, the little dragon was gone, the front door still swinging on its hinges.
Twilight clucked her tongue and shook her head. “What do boys see in magazines of us dressed the way we’re dressed all the time anyway…?”
“It’s about poise, darling. And character. An excellent photographer helps, too.” Rarity felt a chill, “But I’m quite certain I’m going to feel somewhat awkward the next time I encounter Starlight Glimmer…”
“...why does she even have those…”
“Mm, equality in love, I suppose.” Rarity replied. Letting go of a sigh of her own, she adjusted her glasses and turned back to the work bench. “I guess I’ll just have to make do now. But it’ll be alright with a sure thing product like this. I honestly cannot fathom how nopony has come up with this idea yet.”
Twilight raised an exasperated brow. “Rarity, I’m guessing that it’s because you don’t have a brother that you don’t know what happens to stallionparts when they get cold?”
The fashionista was already back at her toil. “Beg pardon?”
Twilight glanced around the room for a visual aid. Taking note of an open container of makeup on a shelf, she nabbed a lipstick tube in her magic, flipped the cap off, twisted it open it all the way, and set it in her friend’s field of view. She then took to providing an explanation. Rarity watched as the lipstick in the tube slowly retracted into nothingness, and froze.
“...you’re joking.”
“Afraid not,” Twilight said simply.
“I...I see.”
With a melodramatic groan, Rarity swept the bench clean with a blast of magic, sending all her new creations into the wastebasket. “I...I don’t suppose I could interest in two dozen festive, mismatched stockings? They’re hoof-crafted and never been worn!”
“Maybe later. Meanwhile I need to have a talk with a dragon about his choice in reading material.” Somewhat dismayed for her friend, Twilight wracked her brain for something helpful to say on her way out. She paused at the door. “Ever consider marketing to clubs on the Los Pegasus strip?”
Rarity burned to life as quickly as she had wilted, the cozies rising as one from their entombment with a sapphire radiance that outdid the very afternoon sky. “To Clydesdale’s and The Silver Corral? Why, that’s...magnifique! I must create!! Stallion dancers will wonder how they ever did without--!!”
Twilight smiled, offered a sheepish goodbye, and departed, slowly closing the door to the sound of Rarity’s soliloquy.
Somewhere in Ponyville, Starlight Glimmer’s eight-year-old copy of Playmare’s Summer Sun Celebration edition (the extra-special double extravaganza one with the three centerfolds) vanished without a trace. It was cherished forever.