Coffee and Pones: Rarity [AiE]

 

>Let's recap. Journal time!

"Fluttershy was a good test subject. However since she had nothing on her to-do list. Her energy was spent doing nothing productive. Just some silly antics,"

>You think back to her mannerisms.

"It was… Interesting. Not only did she unleash some kind of hidden inner speed demon, she managed to act a bit like Rainbow Dash."

>They've been friends for a long time so, that makes sense.

>Now you think about the next subject.

>Rarity has tons of commissions. So maybe this would be a great way to boost up her production line.

>Though, in that capacity, she's far too busy to spend much time away from her boutique.

>So you'll have to put some fresh brew in a container, and mosey on over to her place.

 

>Thankfully it's not a long walk, so this won't take long.

>"Psst."

"What was-"

>"PSSSSSSSSSSSSSSST!! Over here, kid."

>You follow the voice over to a dark alley.

>Which doesn't make much sense, It's about twelve o'clock high.

>"Hey, hey, hey. Yeah you. Over here."

"I'm right in front of you. You don't need to wave me over."

>"Right. Anyways. Coffee. I stiiiiiiiill can't wait to try some."

>Yup. It's Pinkie. In a trench coat. Speaking in whispers

"I told you, You'll get your turn. Just be patient."

>"Well, word around the campfire is that you've set up a plinko system,"

>How does she know about plinko…

>"And that some ponies have already had two hits. Not fair, Anon... Not fair."

"I literally told no one about this."

>"… hmmm… I dunno, you've been acting pretty fishy ever since you discovered that stuff two weeks ago."

"It's been two days."

>"Whatever you say Anon. Just know that I've got my eye on you. And you know what happened the last time I had my eye on someone?"

"No… I don't."

>"-Misunderstanding-. That's what."

>She activates a smoke screen. Leaving you confused, and gasping for oxygen.

>You can never giver her coffee. Ever!

>Decaf is as much as she'll get.

>The rest of the walk is uneventful. Thankfully

 

>Open the door and...

>"Hello, and welcome to-"

"Hi, Rarity!"

>There's no need to hear her intro every time you visit her.

>It gets old.

>"Oh, Anonymous. What a pleasant surprise. It's always nice to see your handsome face around here. Was there anything you needed?"

>She knows how to butter you up.

"Nah, Just wanted to visit my favorite seamstress."

>"Oh, Anon. Flattery will get you everywhere. Besides, I believe I'm the only seamstress in this town."

"Just as far as the show has told us."

>Did you really just say that?

>"... Show?"

"Sorry... Just a glitch in The Matrix."

>"... Are you quite alright?"

>Wow, you are a dumbass.

"Anyways, I brought coffee."

>"Coffee? I don't believe I'm familiar with that. Is it perhaps some kind of food?"

"Nah, it's a magical drink that will make everything on your to-do list, come true. In only about half of the time... probably."

>"Really?!"

"Kinda, sorta, yeah."

>"Well, I have lots of orders to do. And any help would be just lovely. So, be a dear, and pour me some of this 'coffee'."

>You open your thermos, and pour some brown gold... That also sounds disgusting. Good thing you kept that in your thoughts.

 

>Hours later...

>Four cups down. You had this rule, for when you walked out of your house.

>Moderation is key.

>A key that you have now dropped into a storm drain filled with shit, and rusty razorblades.

>If you were a religious man, you would be praying right about now.

>"OH my goodness! Do you SEE this fabric, Anonymous?"

>She floats a roll of, whatever the hell kind of fabric this is, literally centimeters from your face.

"... Yes."

>"Isn't it just lovely?"

"I-"

>"It would make quite a beautiful corset for you."

>What? You don't. Wait... Don't get her started. Just stay on the main topic.

"Rarity. You have plenty of dresses to make right over there."

>"NONSENSE! I simply cannot put this wonderful idea on hold!"

"Okay, but, If you could get down from the chandelier, we could maybe get started. hmmm?"

>"Oh, Anonymous. When you have magic, One does not need the floor."

>Just what in the hell did you put in this coffee...

>Her tools, shears, sewing machines, everything. Oh god! It's all alive!

>It's like fantasia, In 3-D. Just a lot more menacing, with Rarity's manic laughter.

>It also doesn't help that she's still swinging around on her chandelier.

>You need witnesses for when she murders you.

"Look, Rarity. I think you need to stop all of this craziness. You're really freaking me out."

>Everything literally stops.

>Thank goodness.

>"Stop? STOP? There's no stopping, dear. I'm getting more done, in an hour, than I ever thought possible. Why, if I had a stash of coffee. I would become a pony-production line! And rule the world-,"

"...Oh god...."

>"-of fashion! WAHAHAHAHA!"

>That still sounds sort of frightening.

>Everything starts up again. Yes, even her laughter, and swinging.

>Just go the corner, and curl up in the fetal position. Nobody will judge you.

 

 

>Five minutes later.

>"Oh, dear. Anonymous. I feel... *yawn* sleepy."

"Holy crap!"

>She falls off from the chandelier.

>You get up from your totally manly fetal position, and make a mad dash for the center of the room.

>It really was like a couple of big steps. Small pony houses, and whatnot.

>So, you catch her, and place her on that, drama-sofa thing, she always has.

>You give her a goodnight kiss on the cheek, because, why the hell not.

>And you make your way back to your house.

>What you failed to notice, is a severely traumatized Sweetie Belle, who saw everything that went down.

 

>Journal time.

"Okay... Rarity is definitely never having coffee. In fact... I'm not sure I should allow any of these ponies to have access to such levels of energy. It's just plain scary."

>You figured Rarity would be able to contain herself, being a lady and all. Plus, she had all of those orders. But, no such luck. In fact, she may be father behind just because of you.

>It's like ponies are literally never supposed to have uppers of any sort, because coffee seems trigger a nerve that holds a psychotic nature that maybe all of them have.

>Though, you look back to your new pile of clothes.

>On top of the pile of jeans, shirts, and boxer briefs she made for you. You see a very saucy pink thong, with a matching corset. You could probably use them on a certain someone you know.

>... Maybe it was kind of worth it.

>You close your journal and fall asleep.

>You'll pick your next test subject tomorrow.