>Working part time at a barbers was a good way to make bits. Clean the toilet, change the trash, run and get this, go and get that, it was a pretty sweet deal.
>With each day, they grew more and more sure of your abilities. What they didn't know, was that you knew shit about fashion, or hair.
>One day, you sweep up the floor when your boss, a prissy, lively mare, comes rushing over.
>"Anon! You gotta take this client for me!"
"What? Why?! I don't know shit about cutting manes."
>"It's easy Anon, this mare just wants a trim, just go over it like I do. Its all machine, its idiot proof."
"K.."
>Walking over to the mare, she is reading a magazine as you come from behind. Looking at all the cutting tools, you grab one and flick it on.
>It buzzes to life, and you swallow any feelings of reservations you have. Something is a miss though, you are still needing that plastic thing.
>Opening a drawer, you look at the types there are.
["Its just a trim, so...a zero should barely be anything right?"]
>Clicking it on, you inhale one last time.
"Here we go."
>Bzzzz! You can see pink flesh
"Oh shit."
>"Is something wrong?"
"No, no...its fine."
["Maybe I pressed to hard."]
>Bzzzz!
["Jesus, it got bigger."]
>Before you know it, the mare is completely shaved, and angry.
>"What did you do to my beautiful coat!?"
"Nothing, its just...the most popular thing."
>"It is?"
"Oh yeah, its so popular, nobodies heard of it yet."
>"That is pretty popular."
"And here's the best part, it'll grow back."
>"Hmmm....I guess its not so bad. You really see ME, and not my coat...Ok. I like it."
>From there, ponies came in droves to the shop, and you were the biggest name in pony fashion.
>Until the next big thing came by, and you were quickly forgotten. Oh well.