Schmuck for Mares
by WeirdBeard
(In horrible, distasteful parody to Demon Eyes Lahari's "Gentleman for Mares")
I'm sorry that I'm not sorry.
I leaned back against the hard plastic chair, trying desperately to receive some degree of comfort from the cheaply made furniture. Just another wonderful benefit from the company. They always seemed to do the most minimalist of efforts to support their employees, both pony and non. I was back in the break-room, again, while waiting for a new assignment from Boss Hoss.
Okay, that wasn't his name, but there sure were more ridiculous ponies out here than you could shake a stick at.
I nearly fell out of my seat when he barged in the room. The large, portly stallion was half-heartedly dressed as usual, simply passing off his own dress code for the rest of us. His greasy existence morphed towards his desk and he regarded me with a slow nod. Everything about him screamed of uncleanliness as his black mane and mustache housed residue, his tan coat was patchy with shedding hair, and let's not forget his signature eye-patch.
Don't ask.
"Ready for the next job, boy?" the stallion asked before belching loudly and rubbing his protruding belly. A fly buzzed lazily around his head while he awaited my response, his eye almost glazed over.
I had to shake my head for the umpteenth time as he addressed me with that title again. "I thought I told you to stop calling me that. We're the same age after all. Heck, I think I'm older than you, Greasy Dough."
See. Didn't I tell you their names were bizarre?
Greasy guffawed boisterously and plopped down onto his cushioned chair behind the desk. His work space was much like his own being, devoid of any clean space to work with and borderline condemning. He shook his head and bared a smile that would make any dentist run for the hills. "Pfft. What's the fun in just calling you 'Tony'? Anyway, I got a new client for ya."
The large pony tossed a packed manila folder into my lap and smirked. I arched a brow, but examined the outer contents. The most notable headline was naturally the giant, red 'Warning' stamp on the exterior of the folder. "Why does it always seem like you save the weird ones for me?" I asked, rubbing at the bridge between my eyes.
"I could always just let everyone know that you want to-"
"Nope! That's quite alright," I hurriedly interrupted him. I wasn't in the mood to get into that again.
Let's just say that I'm working for Greasy not just for money. He's also blackmailing me. Nothing incriminating that I've done, just... don't worry about it. Basically, I owe him and that's it.
Greasy ran a hoof through his mane, all the while grinning at my misfortune. "Well, you better step to it. She asked for you by name, "Sweets", so get a move on."
I had to pause as he mentioned another code name that I wasn't too fond of. "You seriously put that tag in the catalog?"
"Why wouldn't I? That's the beauty of marketing, my boy, we gotta sell it. In this case, we're selling you and to be honest, you're not exactly Fancy Pants," the stallion reasoned. "Now run along, I have to make some calls."
"Thanks for the pep talk, boss," I replied. He remained lounging while I exited the room with the folder. 'Calls' my eye, that lazy bum was going to sit on his fat rump all day and snack on pastries.
Not much to do now except start on the assignment.
God help me.
The file itself was pathetic to say the least. There were hardly any descriptions at all nor any requests for the mare in question. I really wasn't surprised that her name was crossed out several times by the call handler, simply her address and the desired time were kept intact. It was late afternoon when I finally strolled toward her cottage. While my wardrobe wasn't extravagant, I still made it a point to look somewhat good. Classic blazer with a collared shirt would do just fine.
My ties had all been destroyed after a mishap with a minotaur. Pro-tip: Don't piss off a guy who has access to an army of goats.
Armed with a bouquet of fine roses, and hopefully some class, I breezed through the walkway and stopped at the small front door. Prepping myself one last time, mainly psychologically in case anything freaky happened, I briskly knocked.
Three minutes passed after I knocked at various times and called out my arrival. Alas, the mare either wasn't home or someone, specifically some fat pony, was messing with me. I was just about to leave when a faint, distant cheer reached my ears. I looked around earnestly to find the source until my eyes spotted a speeding, grey blur rushing toward me. The distant object shouted out again faintly, "Muffin!"
This is how I die, isn't it?
Before I could even attempt to retreat, the blur collided with me and smashed both of us through the closed door. It was disorienting to say the least and I could have sworn several of my vertebrae popped out when I hit the floor. However, I finally recovered both my breath and my vision to see that it was indeed the client. Derzy Dohooves. Or whatever her name was, screw Greasy's hoofwriting.
"Muffin!" the mare stated happily. Her petite form laid down atop my chest, her bright, golden eyes inches from my face.
"Uh... hi," I slowly replied. When she remained sitting over me, I gingerly raised my hand with the now crushed flowers. "These are... well, were for you, unless you still want them."
She somehow grew even more chipper at the sight of the flowers. "Awwwwww, thanks!" she exclaimed, promptly munching on them quickly. Finally, she jumped off my chest and fluttered toward another room.
I questioningly turned my head to follow where she went while I was still prone on the floor. Possibly crippled, but whatever I guess. "Yeah, sure. Uh, are you-?"
"C'mere you sexy lil' muffin," she interrupted, already donning some suggestive clothing. How subtle.
I shrugged and pushed myself off the floor. "Alright then, whatever you want."
And then we had sex, the end.
No we didn't play patty cakes, shut up.
Schmuck for Mares
by WeirdBeard
(Seriously, what's wrong with me?)
When I first started this job, I was told it got easier as time passed. I wouldn't need to worry about anything and I'd be a pro before I knew it. Some even bet that it would only be a week before I had more clients than I could shake a stick at.
Those clowns knew I was in over my head.
"Greasy! Where are you, ya tub of lard?!" I shouted after kicking in his office door.
Today was far from anything resembling decent and it was time to vent some frustration. Needless to say, my agent was the prime target to do so. After all, he was the source of my misery in a roundabout way.
Greasy had been passed out on his desk, but my outburst launched the rotund stallion upright. "Huzzat?! No, Officer, she said she was drinking age!" he called out a bizarre, premeditated excuse in his waking daze. A line of white dust traced across his upper lip and nostrils, giving me an idea of what else he had been up to earlier.
Don't worry, it's just powdered sugar from a doughnut. God help us all the day these weirdos discover the other crystals. Maybe that's what that Sombra nut was going on about.
"I'm not the cops, stupid. What's the big idea with that last assignment?!" I queried angrily. It had been weeks since the muffin incident (no, we are never going to speak of that again), but I was over that. Seriously. My big concern was this most recent excuse of a job.
The pudgy stallion blinked blearily in my direction, but still seemed completely out of it. "Tony? Why are you back so soon? Don't you have a job to do?"
Gadfrey, I hate this idiot.
"Greasy, the address you gave me sent me to a bear cave! Take a wild guess what was in there!" I shouted justifiably. What kind of jerk sends someone to a bear cave?
Greasy scratched at his eye patch lazily and puzzled for a moment. "I thought 'Mister Beary' was just a misnomer. You know, like those ironic names 'Tiny' and 'Slim' for giant ponies," he lamely excused. The obese pony's features lightened as he looked at me questioningly. "Regardless, you did satisfy him, right?"
"ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!" I yelled at the top of my lungs. Let's face it, folks, there's just plain stupid and then there's Greasy Dough. To further emphasize how pants-on-head moronic he was, I swept my arms across his desk and quickly cleared the items onto the floor. His shocked expression worsened as he watched me lean forward and pull on the lapels of his disgusting plaid suit. "The bear wanted to eat me! I was lucky I got away!"
Greasy's eye twitched in recoil, chuckling nervously as he tried to collect his nerves. "Look on the bright side, at least we don't have to give him a refund."
"That's it," I replied promptly, dropping the stallion back onto his chair. "I'm out. I've dealt with enough freaks, nutcases, and bears to last me a lifetime. Find someone else. I don't care anymore, I quit."
As I turned my back and started towards the door, I heard Greasy sputter, "W-wait! Just do this last job, please!"
"No! I told you, it's over," I retorted. There wasn't a snowball's chance in hell I was sticking around to even consider his request.
"But it's for a million bits!" Greasy cried out. I was almost out the door before he said that.
Dang it.
I glanced back at the fat stallion crossing his hooves, pleading for me to stay. "You're lying."
"I swear on Celestia's shiny plot that I'm telling the truth," Greasy whimpered, raising a hoof in the air and crossing his heart. "This is the one that takes us into retirement."
I'm such an idiot.
"What's the catch?" I asked, raising a brow at the pathetic pony. I should have just sprinted out of that office, but here I was contemplating his pleadings.
Greasy swallowed nervously, a noticeably large lump traveling down his throat. "The client's been rejected by all of the other agencies. No one will take the offer."
I rolled my eyes. "You've hooked me in, Greasy, now I really want this job," I muttered sarcastically. "Why would I accept it now?"
"Because you're better than those fakes," my boss replied. He pushed away from his desk and hopped onto the floor, trotting towards me. "They're all talk and no show. But you!" he began, prodding a hoof at my stomach. "You're the real deal. Every client you've had has scored you 10 out of 10. Where all those phonies would cower, you triumphed. Because deep down, you're the only one who can handle the job."
I sighed at his attempted pep talk. Surprisingly, it had a really good effect on me, almost to the point where I was actually on board. "Just answer me this," I replied calmly. "Who's the client?"
Greasy grinned wildly and procured a large folder out of his coat's pocket. He glanced at it once, tossing it to me as he answered, "Mare by the name of 'Bon-Bon.'"
Why do I have a bad feeling about this?
It only took a few minutes to walk from the office to the client's home. Of course, I had completely freshened up for what would be my last job. A nice long shower, some cheap cologne, and a heaping dose of painkillers in case things turned out as well as the past jobs. Regardless of what happened, I was going to rock Bon-Bon's world. Go big or go home, right?
There was a strange silence though around the little house. Then again, every client was the same way before I got there.
I told you, Greasy always found the weird ones.
My fist knocked measurably against the front door, echoing just right. I could hear muffled whispering behind the door and I strained to hear what was being said. Unfortunately, it ceased just as suddenly as it had started and I was left in silence again. "Hello? It's me, To-, I mean, 'Sweets'," I called out.
"YAAAAAAAHHHH!!!" a voice screamed out above me. I looked up just in time to see a beige colored mare with blue and pink mane hurtling towards me from the roof. Even though it was happening so fast, I somehow noticed the open burlap sack in her hooves.
That's just peachy.
Before I could even react, her body slammed atop me and brought both of us onto the ground. I yelled in surprise, but found my shout cut off as the sack was pulled over my head.
"Quick! Get him inside!" the same voice exclaimed. I heard the front door open and the sound of rushing hooves surrounded me and dragged me inside. My captors chattered excitedly, only bits and pieces were barely discernible.
"I can't believe he came!"
"I call dibs!"
"No, I call dibs!"
"He smells heavenly!"
Through their bickering, I felt myself pushed into a chair and strapped down with something. My head was throbbing from the collision with the sky-diving pony and the following dragging didn't help at all. The bag was still over my face, but frankly I was dreading what lay in store for me.
"Calm down, girls, he's probably spooked out his mind," the voice from earlier chided. The chatter died down and I felt my breathing increase its speed. Celestia knew what was going to happen now.
My only regret is that I didn't throw Greasy off a cliff.
Finally, the bag was pulled off my head. The change of lighting blinded me momentarily and I scrunched my eyes to adjust to my surroundings. Of course, I couldn't see beyond the radius of light that a lamp above me projected. The same mare that had tackled me was now in front of me, tilting her head sheepishly.
"Sorry about all that. We were just so excited and didn't want you to run," the earth pony explained.
Now it was my turn to tilt my head. "We?" I asked.
She paused a moment, but brightened up when she recognized my question. "Oh my, where are my manners? My name is Bon-Bon, and these are my sisters." At the word 'sisters', a chorus of 'hello'' and 'hey there' echoed around me. Bon-Bon continued, waving a hoof at each mare that stepped forward. "This is Bonnie Sue, that's Bonnette, that's Bondalf, that's Jane Bon, that's Bon Claude Bon Damme, CinnaBon, and Katie."
I shook my head and blinked rapidly. Either I was crazy or I was really seeing the exact same mare times eight surrounding me. "Buh-wuh, huh?! How do you all look the same?" I queried, completely befuddled.
"Easy," Jane Bon (or was that CinnaBon, I can't even tell!) replied. "We're octuplets!"
I felt my jaw drop, my mouth agape while trying to comprehend that particular piece of evidence. "But that's impossible!"
"Pfft. C'mon, Sweets, you're living in a land of magical ponies. Anything's possible now," Bondalf or Bonnette answered with a smile.
"Sure gets annoying when everypony thinks we're the same mare though. It's so easy to tell us apart, our voices are completely different!" a deeper voiced sister claimed.
I turned towards her, trying desperately to remember her name. "Bon Claude?"
The mare fumed and angrily answered, "No, I'm Bonnie Sue!"
"Now calm down, Bonnie Sue, it was an honest mistake. Besides, we're wasting what time I can spend with our guest," Bon-Bon replied with a sultry grin.
I felt a hoof reach around my chest and circled tightly. "Hey, I called dibs!" Katie(?) protested.
"No, I did!"
"No, me!"
"Me!"
I whistled sharply, ending the argument before it could go further. "Now hold on, there's plenty of me to go around," I said smugly. If I played my cards right, this just might be the best night of my life. Eight mares?! That's eight more than I've ever- HEM! I mean... eight more than Greasy's ever done.
Don't look at me like that.
Anyway, my answer seemed to please all of the sisters as each of them smiled and neared closer to me. "That's exactly what we were hoping you'd say, Sweets," Bon-Bon replied.
And then we had the most intense harem ever.
That's what happened I swear! No they didn't just make me taste test and score their home-made candy! Shut up! When am I ever gonna get some action?!
