An OC named Second "You" Pony washes and puts various ponies to sleep. Cute, right? Not when I write it.
Somewhere in Canterlot, a bed and bath for foals has opened, run by Second "You" Pony. Inside, as stated, she bathes ponies and puts them to sleep. Sounds innocent enough. Would could go wrong? Well... I'm writing it. What do you expect?
Hello. If you're wondering who I am, and I know you are, my name is Second Pony. Second "You" Pony. I'm called that because... Well, you know that fiction where you bonk that stupid milkmare? Yeah, that's me. I'm doing her and you're not. And that one where you're inside the iPod? Yeah, me as well.
Anyways, one day I was thinking to myself about other ways I could get money aside from participating in second-person clopfics, when it hit me. A couple weeks ago, I took part in this thing called... For Ponies. I honestly forget; there's, like, four of them. So, I was thinking about opening a bed and bath for foals in the same vein as those works! I could give 'em baths, put 'em to bed and get all the likes and such! Simple, eh Steve? But when you look like me (and when you're a third cousin of Mary bucking Sue), it's not that easy. I mean, I look like that pony from the "I don't have an avatar yet" photo. Generic Pone, I call her. I mean, I don't look exactly like her, hay, I have a mane. But, again, when you look like you have no fur on your body, it ain't that good. But I managed... Somehow. And I'm here to tell you about some of the things that happened while I was running this bed and bath.
But hey, enough of my yakkin'. What do you say? Let's boogie!
Brought to you in part by the OH TO BE DUMB AGAIN, DEPT.
Gah... I suck at baths! I thought to myself as I looked down at the mess I had made. A third of the water was on the floor, it was a bit warmer then it should have been and it was the color of oatmeal. How does one even do that? I sighed and tried again. This time, I was more careful, so better results. For one, it wasn't oatmeal flavored. It could probably bathe a pony. I wasn't gonna test it myself, Faust no, I was just gonna put the pony I was looking after in.
"Oi! Pinkie, it's time for your bath!" I called out to the pink pony in question. When there was no reply, I, obviously, tried again: "Pinkie, really! Get in here!"
I was never the most patient pony in the world, I should probably say right now. So two was my limit when it came to calling Pinkie. At that point, I decided to go out and find her. The last place I saw her was the kitchen I had installed into my installation, so I tried there first. Luckily enough, Pinkie was there... With one of the dolls I had gotten. And a knife. And some ketchup. Y'see, she had cut open the doll and poured ketchup over it, like blood. Odd.
I cleared my throat and Pinkie gave me an oddly innocent look.
"You need a bath," I told Pinkie bluntly, "and you really shouldn't have knife. I don't think it's safe."
Pinkie looked at the knife, then at me, still holding that mockingly cute look. And, I just noticed, her mane was pretty damn flat. On one side, at least. The other side was pretty poofy. I don't think it's supposed to be like that.
"Yes, I said 'you'," I said, hoping that's what the look meant. "In any situation, that would mean-"
But before I could finish, Pinkie had already squirted some ketchup onto the table top and wrote "No" in it. I think. Maybe she meant "oN".
"Yeah, you might say 'No', but I'm the one in charge here," I reminded the pink pony before picking her up and bringing her into the bathroom. I dropped her in- Or at least I thought so. When I looked down, nopony was in the bath. "Sonuva..."
I ran back out into the kitchen to see Pinkie continuing her... Operation, I guess. And she was really covered in blood this time.
"C'mon, Pinkie, don't make me do anything I wouldn't want to do," I muttered, picking her up once again and making a more rapid progress to the bathroom. For some reason, she was still in my hooves when I dropped her into the tub. Finally. But I blink once and she's besides me! Maybe I shouldn't have spent all night working on legal papers to open this place... Well, if I didn't, I wouldn't be here, would I?! Thought so.
So, for the third time, I picked Pinkie up and put her in the tub. Wasting no time, I grabbed the shampoo (and the brush) and squirted some in Pinkie's awfully ketchup-y hair, scrubbing it in a little. Pinkie giggled a little from the tickling sensation (I prayed most of the foals I looked after would have more-or-less the same reaction) and splashed a little water. If I didn't know any better, I would have swore that she was trying to get me wet. But I have fur that's gray, why do I care? Also, that shampoo was smelling good. So... Fruity, I think. Whatever shampoo smelled like. I couldn't resist taking a deep breath of it, closing my eyes. I quickly regretted it when I felt a drop of water on my head.
I opened my eyes, looked up and was shocked. Pinkie had somehow telepor'd herself onto the shower bar and was swinging around on it. I quickly grabbed her and scolded her: One, because she could have hurt herself and it would have to come out of my pay. And second, I didn't have me camera near me! I could have totally sent it to Equestria's Funniest Home Videos. If she'd fallen, I could have won the grand prize.
At the time, I was pretty sure something else was going to go wrong, so I just dumped some water on her to clean all the shampoo out. It did and the poofy side of Pinkie's fell flat. But, to fix it, Pinkie stuffed her hoof in her face, tried to blow out and that side poofed up again.
"Why only that side?" I asked her. "Why doesn't the other side go up? Some kind of chemical balancement or something?"
Pinkie shrugged and babbled something I could understand. I don't think it mattered anyways, so I moved onto her tail. I told her I was going to do so, so Pinkie plunged her head underwater, letting her rear go above the water so I could wash the tail. Well, I didn't really expect her to do that... OK, I kind of did. But I wanted this bath to be over with, so I finished her tail and dumped water on it to clean it out. The poofy half went flat again, but, like the mane, it went right back.
I expected Pinkie to come up then, but she didn't. I waited for about two minutes and nothing.
"Uh, Pinkie..." I muttered. "You can come up now."
Immediately after I said that, Pinkie launched herself into the air, did an impressive number of flips and landed sitting in the tub, grinning as wide as the hills.
"I give you a thousand points," I said.
Pinkie nodded in satisfaction and I have her a boat and a little yellow submarine to play with. I think she's deserved it. I mean, she just got a thousand points. I supervised her, of course, but did I really need to?
She (Pinkie) continued her childish role play for a little while (humming "Hey Bulldog", I think) before taking the submarine and forcefully submerging into the water, making a big splash. None got on me, but I looked away for a brief second in fear that it might. When I looked back, Pinkie was gone... AGAIN!
I thought about going straight in panic-mode, but I turned around and saw her holding a towel in her mouth. Always one step ahead, I guess.
Well, her bath was officially done at that point, I guess. Pinkie was definitely done, so why bother arguing? I took the towel out of her mouth and dried her off, somehow making the poofy part poofier and the flat part flater. The flat part was already as flat as bucking paper, so how I accomplished this is beyond me. Once I was done, Pinkie ran out to finish doing whatever she was doing with the doll and the ketchup. Hopefully she'd be putting them away, 'cause I didn't wanna wash her again.
Afterwards, I drained the tub and, as it was, I was leaning over the side of the tub, consider what I just witnessed. Would this come from all the foals I watched? Was I really cut out for this job? I sometimes considered becoming a doctor or something, but I knew nothing about medicine, so why would I bother? I also thought about being a cook, but I knew nothing about cooking either. So don't you expect me be feeding or giving medicine to any of these foals. Or going to war... Well, to be perfectly honest, I do feed them and stuff. It's just, y'know, you came here for the bed and bath stuff. If you want medicine and such, go somewhere else.
Then I realized something.
"Pinkie! Don't you dare murder the dog!"
LATER...
I looked at the old clock on the wall and noticed it was almost time for bed. I breathed a sigh of relief. My service would almost be over! So I quickly went off to the room Pinkie would be sleeping (not my room) and made sure everything was to her, ahem, "standards", which meant balloons tied around the four posts of a bed with only one bunk. Did I mention? I technically have 4 beds: One for myself, a single bunk and a double bunk bed. I was all set.
Anyways, I made sure the sheets, since there was no other way Pinkie would sleep in it, and it looked at least presentable. It did, so I walked over to the doorway and started looking for the elusive pony. Then I remembered that she was probably hiding or something, so I called her: "Pinkie, it's time for bed! I don't a repeat of the bath situation, so get in here!"
A couple seconds later, I was tired of waiting, so I went to look for. Since the kitchen was the place I found her during the bath situation, I tried there first. Pinkie wasn't there, nor was the doll or ketchup. There was stuffing on the floor that Pinkie tried to bake, but, aside from that, she was nowhere to be found. At that point, I heard giggling from the bedroom and groaned. I knew where she was.
Slowly going into the bedroom, I saw that Pinkie had somehow made a World War II fortress entirely out of pillows. Right down to the insignia. Girl should've been an architect.
Moving on, I cleared my throat. Pinkie popped her head out of a corner of the fort, wearing a helmet nonetheless, and I said, "Young lady, it is bedtime. I am tired of dealing with you, so could you please, for once, just do what I want?"
Pinkie shook her head no, almost flinging off her helmet. She dived back into the fort and started bouncing again, I guess, because it kept creeping.
Sighing, I went over to the bed-fort-thing and lifted up a corner, hoping to find her. Instead, I found the business end of Pinkie's party cannon. And when her ends mean business, my Faust, do they mean business. I quickly dived and there was a loud explosion of confetti, probably waking up one of my neighbors.
The pink party pony popped out once again, giggling at the fact that she almost blew my Faust dang head off. I felt especially insulted when she started picking confetti out of my hair.
"OK, enough messing around," I said, taking Pinkie off my back and shaking my mane free of shredded paper. "Can you please calm down? Please?"
Pinkie took a minute to think it over. Eventually she nodded and I was relived. I put her down and quickly dismantled the pillow fort, some of them disappearing into thin air. That at least confirmed that I didn't have 27 pillows in this establishment. After I was done, I put the party cannon into a corner, much to Pinkie's disappointment. Not like I cared how her weapon of mass fun-struction turned out. I picked her up once again and tucked her in, Pinkie sighing in content in such. Thank Faust that's over, I thought to myself. Now I could go watch Mystery Science Theater 3000!
I quietly made my way out and shut the door without a sound. Seconds later, I opened to door the check if she was still there. She wasn't. I ran over to the bed to see if she was there and, sure enough, she wasn't. For I think the 7th time that day, I felt like panicking, but I didn't went I felt that Pinkie was clinging onto my head, trying to stay silent.
"Now, what did I say about being calm?" I asked Pinkie. She didn't reply, but I anyways said, "You said you would calm down. Which you didn't. Look, you want a story or something?"
That seemed to be a deal maker, because Pinkie leaped off my head and onto the bed, trying to stop her bounces. Ignoring that, I went over the book shelf I had, which I stocked with books I knew my clients would like. I didn't really think about Pinkie, but there was suddenly a book wrapped in brown paper with a bow the color of my fur. I admit, it was kinda cute for her to do that, but I wanted to finish this.
I grabbed the book and unwrapped the wrapping. I was surprised to find out that it was entitled A Nice Baking Story. Sounded innocent enough. And the cover clearly clarified that it was a story with pop-ups. Hopefully, the pop-ups would wear out her brain power.
I sat down in a chair next to the single bunk bed and Pinkie went over to the edge of the bed so she could see it better. I opened the book's first page and, like the cover, it was innocent enough. As stated on the cover, it was a pop-up picture. But I still had to move the book closer to Pinkie so she could see. I turned to the next page and I instantly knew why she wanted it: It was really dark and disturbing. But Pinkie liked it, so I moved on, letting her pull on the pull tabs. Strangely enough, it made it even worse.
The book got progressively darker and darker. I couldn't exactly stop because Pinkie seemed to be enjoying it, seeming to get more and more excited as the end got closer. I got closer to puking, but that's a different topic all together. So, anyways, I got to the penultimate page of the book and I was just about ready to give up. But Pinkie urged me to turn the page and I did- Which resulted in blood being splurt all over the room, especially in my face. I was pretty dang annoyed by it, but the lil' filly looked happy. I couldn't stay mad at her for long, can't I?... Maybe.
I quickly closed the book, put it away on the shelf and tucked her in. Heck, I even gave her a hug. She smiled at me and hugged me back.
After that was done, she fell asleep and I quietly made my way out of the room. But, before I closed the door, I heard her giggle. I checked to make sure she hadn't gotten up, but, no she was still sleeping. With the same smile on her face. And I was glad. Mainly because I was about to watch Mystery Science Theater 3000. But, y'know... Still glad.
this chapter was brought to you in part by the CUTE DREAM THEATRE, DEPT.
One of the things I was hoping I could get good at quickly was making these baths. I mean, putting the foals to bed was probably the easiest part of my job. But I just can't seem to get this bath thing right. It's better then the last one at least. Didn't have to throw in that much dry ice. Anyways, I might as well go and get my most recent customer: Fluttershy, the adorable little yellow ball of Nazi. Sorry, I mean Hammerskin.
"Hey, Fluttershy, you're bath's ready, get your whispery butt in here!" I called to her. No reply. Well, I was done waiting. Time to go find her. The last time I saw her was the faux-living room I had made, but, when I checked there, she was missing. I groaned at that and searched around a little more, starting with the freezer. Don't ask why!
Eventually, I found her in my bedroom under my bed. I don't think she realized that there's a perfectly good she could hide under one room over. Anyways, when I found her, she was shaking quite violently. She looked more like a blur at that point.
"C'mon, Fluttershy, you need to take a bath, come out," I said, trying to sound all sympathetic and all "your-not-in-trouble-y". "Look, I may seem off, but I was born with this coat colour. It just seems like I'm completely naked, but I'm not."
It didn't seem like Fluttershy fully bought it, but she did come out and I was able to get her in the bath... After undressing her, of course. Yeah, she was wearing full on Nazi-garb. And I had to take it off. Um...
"Y'know, this wouldn't be awkward if you weren't wearing this," I told Fluttershy. I don't think she understood, but I was more or less talking to myself. That's what happens when you surround yourself with foals. The only pony who talks is yourself.
Moving on, I checked to see if it needed more dry ice (it didn't) and placed her in. Initially, she was pretty shocked by the temperature, but she got used to it eventually. I tried not to look at her too long 'cause, well, even though we're always naked, if somepony wears something for a long enough time, it becomes weird seeing them without it on.
When I saw that she seemed pretty OK with the water, I decided that the reader needed some cute imagery, so I gave the yellow pegaus a rubber duck. She took it happily and instantly started treating it like it was a real animal. So I'm not the only crazy one. Unfortunately, I guess, she happened to look at me the moment I decided to take a peek at her.
"Um... You can go on," I reassured her. In all seriousness, I kind of didn't want her to stop. But the mood was dead apparently, as she shoved the duck aside.
That's when I decided to start washing her. And let me just say this up front, Fluttershy is DAMN soft. It's pretty crazy how stoft this bucker is. Like... Wow.
Sadly, I was being kinda careless with my washing this time, 'cause I got soap in her eyes. Naturally, it stung and she retreated from me, tears welling up.
"It was a mistake!" I said defensively. "Look, I didn't mean to get soap all up in your eyes."
Like before, I put a little effort into my sorry face, but Fluttershy eventually kind of forgave me and let me continue on.
Anyways, as I was saying, SOFT MOTHER-BUCKER. But then there were the wings.
I've never washed wings before this point and I knew I would be coming to this. The thing is, you gotta treat 'em like they're genitals and that's really awkward. Even more then that thing I mentioned above with the clothes. So, anywho, I grabbed her wings and asked her to keep 'em held up because I sure as hay wasn't doing it. She complied and I just realized that I had no idea what to use: Body wash or shampoo. Well... It's not covered in hair like the rest of her, but feathers are kind of like fur... I ended up using body wash I don't know why.
Of course, Fluttershy shivered at the cool touch. It was cool. As ICE. Anywho, after I was done washing, I dumped water on it. But it didn't really look washed out, so I did it again. And again. And again. After an hour, I think I had dumped the entire tub of water on her. Naturally, I did the other wing, but I only did ten rounds of water dumping. Which isn't easy to do with hooves, mind you, so be impressed.
Moving on, I did her tail afterwards, which is pretty much how it went with Pinkie, just saner. Another difference, I guess, was that I didn't pull as much as I did with Pinkie and it took about 15 rounds of water dumping to get the tail all done. So, um, ehh. I gotta get used to it, I guess.
I went to pull the plug, but Fluttershy did it for me.
"Hey!" I cried when she unplugged it. Fluttershy looked a little sorry, but I said, "Don't worry about it too much... It ain't that important. Kinda helpful, I guess."
OK. Anyways, I picked Fluttershy out of the tub and dry her all down. You could even hear her voice shaking. I did her body first, followed by her abdomen (I found that word in the dictionary and thought it sounded smrt), cauda and schwanz (the latter two proves I know how to use Google Translate). Once she was dried off completely, I let her go off to do whatever, probably to play with that cat I didn't have until now.
As it should seem, I was going to put the towel in the dirty clothes basket, but I was interrupted by seeing Fluttershy talking to said cat. The cat looked like it was freaked out of his mind. I just... Just...
"DAMN CUTEST THING I'VE EVER SEEN IN MY LIFE!" I exclaimed. "I DAMN LOVE YOU, FLUTTERSHY!... Not in the unfunny paedophile gay way, but in the normal way."
LATER
Right when I was in the middle of listening to Octavarium (I like Dream Theatre, OK?), I realized it was about time Fluttershy went to bed. Hopefully, it would be a lot less chaotic then Pinkie. But first I had to make the bed, since it gotten a little messed up since the last time I watched a foal. Y'know, almost a hundred days ago. So shut the CD off, went into the room where it would be and made the bed, putting on the linen and comforter and all that stuff. I guess it looked OK, so I called to my little guest for the night.
"Yo, Flutters, yo bed is ready!" I exclaimed. "Well, it depends on where you are, but where I am, it's your bed time! Well... I don't what your bed bedtime is, b-but-"
Then Fluttershy got out from under the bed, tired of me calling her, I guess. That's also where I keep all my Dream Theatre and Iron Maiden albums. Why? All my Cadence Priest albums are there! Anywho, I took her out from under there, checked to see if my albums were all OK (Fear Of The Dark was a little out of place) and placed Fluttershy where she belonged. On the bed. I mean, where else would I put her? Speaking of things being in places, there was this tan teddy bear that Fluttershy immediately grabbed.
"Huh... Well, I guess you can have that," I muttered, not really knowing why that was there in the first place. I certainly didn't put it there. But whatever.
Fluttershy seemed to be half-embarrassed or something, muttering to the bear. I raised an eyebrow and Fluttershy got even more embarrassed, pulling the sheets up over her head. Eh, whatever. I then had a sudden pang of overriding guilt. It even hurt a little. So I decided to make it up to her in some way or another. Why not a bedtime story? I knew I'd be doing this for every pong I'd watch, so might as well get this over with.
"Hey, you want a story?" I asked, trying to sound sorry. "I-I got this book called Carnival Of The Animals, Part 2. It's by Weird Polka!"
Well, he didn't make it. It's actually from this album called Colgate And The Wolf, which I've never heard. But I did take the poems from the second song, "Carnival Of The Animals, Part 2" and added some nice pictures to them. Looks like Rigg Pencil's stuff. I'm very happy with the final results.
Anyways, I started to read: "This is a new composition which features, a random assortment of all living creatures. You'll find that it's not quite exactly the same, as the one by Camille Saint what's-his-name..."
Yeah, I don't know who Camille isn't either. Anywho, I went on reading it, peeking at Fluttershy every now and then, who at one point pull back the covers enough that she could see, but still be kinda hidden, sorta. I knew she wanted to look at it and, near the end, I caved in.
"The poodle's a slimy carnivorous beast," I continued, finally letting Fluttershy look at the book, "in pastures you might find it grazing. It's fangs measure twenty three inches at least, it's antlers are simply amazing. Sometimes it will bury its head in the sand, it's our main source of pork, ham, and bacon. But, then again, on the other hand, I could be completely mistaken."
Fluttershy seemed confused and a little disgusted by what I had drawn for that. Now that I think of it, the picture was too The Final Frontier-horrifying-alien. Maybe I should've gone for more of a Powerslave look. Egyptian poodles would've been nice.
"...Poor Wendy's feeling in the dumps," I finally finished, "she's worn her fingers down to stumps. And so, farewell, this story's through, now go find something else to do."
Shutting the book, I noted that Fluttershy was asleep and seemed a little content. I guess I was, too. So I put the book on the shelf and went out, shutting off the light. I heard a yelp from behind me and turned the light back on. I thought, Oh, what the buck now?!, went over to Fluttershy, pulled back the covers and saw her looking absolutely TERRIFIED. Almost on the verge of tears, clutching that bear enough to crush it into dust.
"Hey, hey, look, this isn't like Fear Of The Dark," I whispered to Fluttershy. I mean, really, I've messed up with Fluttershy so much today. I hope this isn't a recurring theme. "Nothing's gonna hurt you. If something was going to, it would've gone for you as soon as the light went out. But it didn't. Or maybe it almost got to you, but I turned the light on at the last second. But that couldn't have happened. And you've got a bear here for you!"
Fluttershy was a little reassured, let go of the bear and latched onto one of my front legs. That slightly annoyed me, but I just wanted her to go to sleep and I guess the only way to do that was to comfort her to that. So I stroked her mane a little, whilst plugging a night light into a near by wall socket. She was completely stupefied by it. I tried to explain what it was, but she really didn't get it. Whatever. Anyways, I picked her up and made an effort to rock her to sleep. After about the time it takes for me to listen to "Octaviarium", she finally managed to nod off. So I put her into bed and went off, turning off the light, the night light still illuminating the room.
I don't think Fluttershy wasn't all that happy when I started blasting Rust In Peace.
