Title:           Trix of the Trade - Chapter 14
Author:          gadget
Pastebin link:   http://pastebin.com/ZnbP4qSC
First Edit:      Saturday 1st of December 2012 12:45:58 AM CDT
Last Edit:       Saturday 1st of December 2012 12:45:58 AM CDT

>Two weeks ago, you asked yourself the question, ‘What if I let Trixie down?’
>Every day since then, that question has come closer to being, ‘When will I let Trixie down?’
>And you’re pretty sure the answer is, ‘Soon.’
>For the past two weeks, you’ve been frantically searching every theater to karaoke bar for someone to perhaps give Trixie the stage for the night.
>Most declined instantly, others offered a short time up on stage in rotation with other ponies.
>You accepted the first time someone made the offer, but Trixie refuted it once you told her the news. She doesn’t want a literal 5 minutes of fame. She deserves says she deserves the full attention of an entire stadium of ponies with burning desires for her and her magic.
>Trixie heavily elaborated on the ‘burning desires’ part, but you hardly paid any attention.
>After she declined the job, it was back to square one.
>Every day you’d travel further and further from the safety of the wagon. Trixie constantly warns you of the dangers lurking the streets, but you haven’t encountered any trouble so far. Shit, if the ponies aren’t trying to sell you something, they’re just completely avoiding you. You’re sure they avoid you because of the whole… human thing. Normally you’d be offended, but it’s working to your advantage, you suppose. As Trixie said, the streets are filled with scum. The more ponies who avoid you, the better.
>And as an added plus, being an alien species gives you an extra intimidating factor when trying to negotiate terms for Trixie’s big show. You imagine that half of the meetings would have just been an instant decline from the start if it weren’t for this rockin’ human bod.
 
>Right now, you’re down to your last hope. Trixie is declining smalltime shows and refuses to perform in the streets now. She wants it all, and you’re doing what you can to give it to her.
>A small, but expensive little place lies on the outskirts of Fillydelphia. To be blunt… Trixie won’t like it. You know she won’t. It’s way too humdrum for her.
>But money is getting really tight. You fear you might have to force Trixie back into street preforming if this goes south. You can’t imagine her being too happy about that.
>But not all hope is lost! You have a trick up your sleeve this time!
>You’ve bought a binder for this exact meeting. Most of the papers in it are blank. It’s just there to make you look professional. Business expense.
>BUT THE THING INSIDE IT WILL SURELY GET THE JOB DONE!
>Aha! You say. Mixed in with all the blank pieces of paper is something is…
>”Mister Anonymous. Mistuh Bart O’bits will see ya now.”
>The receptionist’s voice derails your train of thought.
>You sit in a dark olive green room with burnt orange carpeting. The sofa under you is a lighter green with an off-white striping.
>Little light enters the room. Only from the window with the shutters nearly shut and a small, dim lamp on the receptionist’s desk across from you.
>It’s a little difficult to tell from the lack of light, but the mare comes off as a stereotypical secretary. Red curly hair, gigantic designer’s glasses, and the impatience of Trixie.
 
>”Well? Whaddya waitin’ for?”
>See? Impatient.
“My apologies, I was just… Ahem, nevermind.”
>You push yourself to your feet and quickly check to make sure you’re all in order. You’re wearing the cowboy outfit you obtained from Appleoosa, but without the vest, belt, and hat of course. You were surprised to find that the outfit could look somewhat business casual-like. Salmon overshirt, black pants, and cool boots. Aw yeah, who can say no to that?
>With everything looking just fine, you proceed through the door next to the couch.
>The next room is colored the same as before, yet even darker.
>On the other side of the room, a desk similar to the receptionist’s sits in between two covered windows. A pony sits behind the desk, not paying any attention to you. Getting a good look at this pony isn’t easy, but you can tell he has a small afro, mustache, and what looks like zebra striped clothing.
>You couldn’t see much, but he sure doesn’t look like a business pony.
>”Hmmm… So you’re the human everyp0ny talks about, huh?” He speaks in a smooth, deep voice.
“Ye-“ Oh god your voice doesn’t sounds right. You clear your throat and try again. “Yes, sir. The name’s Anonymous and it’s a pleasure to meet you.
>He lets out a hearty chuckle as he leans back in his creaky seat.
>”Manners, huh? You’re obviously not a local. So where’re you from, Anonymous?”
“Well… Ponyville for a while, but I’m on the road for the time being.”
 
>”Ponyville? I hear lotsa nice things about that place. Always thinkin’ I might move out there when I retire, or somethin’.” He lets out another deep chuckle. You laugh along to be polite and maybe kiss ass a little.
>”Well, come on then. Take a seat.” He gestures to the dinky little chair that sits in front of the desk. You wouldn’t have noticed it if he hadn’t pointed it out.
“Thank you, sir.”
>You take a short bow before walking over and squeezing into the seat with your binder tucked tightly under your armpit. Its small size makes it unbearably uncomfortable, but you’ll have to manage.
>”So, Mister Anonymous. What makes you think you’re good enough to perform at my…” You hear him adjust a tie and clear his throat. “… Establishment.”
“A-Actually, it’s not me. My partner, Trixie, she-“
>”Oh? You partner? Is she here?” He abruptly interrupts.
”… No-“
>”And why not?” His tone begins to harshen. “I hope you’re not going to tell me she’s one of the performers who thinks herself better than others.”
>… Ha.
>Haha…
“Absolutely not. Trixie is a humble mare. However, she is also a very busy one. So we’d like to ask your forgiveness for her absence.”
>He leans back in his chair once again and exhales loudly. You can tell that put a damper on your chances.
>”Fine, then.” His tone is slightly calmer. “What about this Trixie? I wanna say I’ve heard her name somewhere before, but I can’t be sure.”
“Does ‘The Great and Powerful Trixie’ ring any more bells?”
>You hear him scratch his chin before he answers.
>”Eeh, hardly.”
 
“Well, Trixie is a very talented mare of the magical arts. She performs to impress ponies with her great talent-“
>”A magician.”
>An awkward silence lingers between the two of you for a few seconds before you think of something to say.
“Indeed she is a magician, but it would be wrong to call her an average one!” Okay! Time to bring out the kicker. “You see, she’s beaten the Element of Magic herself in a magic duel, and performed for Princess Celestia herself.” You reach inside you binder to grab the loose newsclipping that mentions you and Trixie. “You see here, in an interview with Celestia-“
>He makes a distasteful sound and waves the clipping away, as if it were nothing. Your ace in the hole, discarded.
>”I don’t need to see all this. Tell me, is this Trixie… attractive? I’d prefer a talentless stunner on stage over an ugly prodigy of the magical arts.”
“Absolutely, sir. Trixie is a VERY attractive mare. I mean… Haha…” You even nervously rub your neck to further sell the façade. “I mean… Yeah. She looks good.”
>Albeit that question is hard to say no to, you don’t know what qualifies as attractive to stallions. For you, it’s just how surprisingly hypnotic their asses are.
>”You n’ her don’t have a thing going on, do ya?”
“What? No! I… Yeah, nothing is going on between us.”
>He begins chuckling again.
>”Alright, alright. Calm down, I’m only teasin’”
>You nervously laugh along with him.
>As his laughter dies down, you hear him audibly sigh before leaning forward again.
 
>”Last week… I had somep0ny cancel on me. She was supposed to put on a show next Tuesday, so you know what that means? I got an empty spot. A very important one too. Needs to be filled.”
>You swear you hear angels singing right now.
>”If your Trixie is as good as you say, then I could get her the spot for half the price.”
“And what would that be?”
>”Five-hundred and fifty bits.”
>The mental barrier that stopped you from sweating just sprung a major leak. This is huge. This is… Oh god, you’re sweating a lot. What is it happening so fast?
“You know what, you have a deal, sir.”
>You stand up and hold your hand out for a handshake, but then you realize how incredibly stupid that is.
>Sweat output increased by 200%.
>”That’s good, Anonymous. That’s good. There’s paperwork to do, but your Trixie is going to need to be here. We’ll keep that spot secure for you if you come back in the next couple days, you hear?”
“Y-Yes, sir.”
>”Now off with ya, I have far too much to do and not nearly enough time.”
“Thank you. Have a pleasant afternoon.”
>He grunts in response.
>You pull yourself out of the chair and exit the room.
>Once you exit the entire building and double-check for onlookers, you throw yourself a miniature celebration. Dancing, quiet cheering, hopping up and down. Oh yeah, you’re excited.
>Somehow, you pulled it off.
>And Trixie won’t hate you. Big plus.
 
>As you walk back to the wagon, rain begins once again. It’s merely a light sprinkle right now, but the clouds above don’t look so friendly.
>It shall be pouring soon in the city of Fillydelphia once again. That seems to be the thing here. If it’s not raining, it’s cloudy. You think you’ve seen the sun only once your entire stay in the city.
>But that’s enough time spent thinking. Even though rain can’t ruin your mood, it can make you wet. You’d prefer to stay dry.
>You pick up your pace to hopefully avoid the rain completely, but it simply won’t work like that. The light sprinkle turns into mild rain within minutes.
>Your clothes are getting wet. You’re getting wet. This sucks.
>The walk back feels much longer than it should have, but you breathe a content sigh when the wagon comes into view.
>Trixie was kind enough to at least hang a lantern outside for you. It’s not dark quite yet, but the gesture counts for something.
>You enter the wagon to find Trixie admiring herself in a hoofheld mirror on the other side of the room.
>Her ear flicks as you close the door, but otherwise, she seems to be focused on herself.
>You could just blurt out the good news right now, but there’s not fun in that.
“It’s a bummer I couldn’t get back before it started raining. It’ll start coming down pretty hard soon.”
>She makes a noise indicating she heard you, but doesn’t really care.
 
>You begin to unbutton your shirt as you walk over to your room.
>As you reach for the knob, Trixie’s voice stops you.
>”Are you not going to tell Trixie how it went?”
>Normally you would. You’d come back to the wagon every day, telling Trixie about your failures. She still somewhat liked you until the third time you told her.
“It went well.” You say as you open the door.
>A second later, Trixie perks up
>You close the door as Trixie drops her mirror and stands at attention.
>”Well? What’s ‘well?’”
>You pretend not to hear her through your closed door as you finish unbuttoning your shirt. You toss the soaked thing off to the side where you keep the rest of your dirty clothes.
>Trixie softly knocks on your door while you strip the damp shirt under it.
>”Anonymous?” She calls. “Trixie would like-“
“I’m a little busy right now. Could you hold on?”
>You’re met with silence. You shrug it off and begin to slip off your pants. Once they’re wrapped around your ankles, Trixie chooses that moment to throw privacy out the window and open the door.
>”What did you mean-“
“Hey, HEY! I’m undressing here!”
>”I-“ Trixie audibly gulps before a minor blush forms across her face and she begins to shut the door. Then she realizes that she doesn’t care and the situation is absurd.
>”Stop pulling Trixie around. Tell her what you meant.”
 
>Aha. So the fun stops here, it seems.
“Next week. We’ll go meet with a pony to sign a contract or two,” You slip a leg into a clean pair of pants. “Get you on stage in a few weeks,” Trixie gasps. “And get a bunch of bits.” She squees at the last one.
>You button the pants around you waist and proceed to slip a shirt on like nothing had happened.
>Meanwhile, Trixie begins to show the signs of a freakout. Eye twitching. Grin widening beyond the restraints of her face. The normal stuff.
“You want to spaz out in your bedroom or out there? Because you’re not doing it in here.”
>”… B-Bedroom please.”
>Trixie excuses herself from you room and you follow suit. Being in dry clothes, you no longer have any reason to be in there. Trixie quickly retreats into her room and slams the door shut. You expect excited screams to follow, they don’t come.
>Trixie instead reopens the door, magically grips you by the collar, and drags you into her room.
>You manage to voice a complaint or two as she drops you on the purple shag carpeting, but her grip around your torso cuts you off.
>”You’rethebestthankyouthankyousweetcelestiathisisadreamcometrue!” Trixie yells into your chest. Her voice was muffled and she spoke way too fast for you to understand, but she sounded appreciative.
“… Eeyeah, just doing my jobTrixie.”
>Trixie pulls her muzzle off your chest to look up at you with teary eyes and beaming grin.
>You two remain like this for a few seconds before she wipes and eyes and quietly sniffs as she pushes herself off you.
 
>”Th-… Ahem, Trixie would like to thank you for your service and phenomenal performance… Anonymous.” She sniffs once more. “Please excuse yourself while Trixie… writes a letter.”
>Trixie trots past you and over to the small desk by her bed. You see her magically lift and quill and start scribbling something down.
>You being as curious and inquisitive as you are, you push yourself to your feet and walk up behind Trixie.
>As you get close, she hides her work and looks nervously at you.
“Is there something wrong?”
>”N-No! Trixie…” She moves a hoof to look at her own work while still hiding it from you, and then quietly sighs. “This is personal. Trixie needs some time alone.”
>Your curious nature somehow subsided, your shoulders slump in a pouty fashion as you turn around.
“That’s fine. I’ll be in my room if you need me.” You say while stretching your back. You’re a little surprised by how sleepy you are, given the time. Maybe a late afternoon nap wouldn’t hurt.
>”And… If you would like to…” Trixie stops you from exiting. “We could go out tonight, to celebrate.” She flashes a smile at you.
“Really? What did you have in mind?”
>Trixie looks upwards while squinting an eye as she thinks.
>”Perhaps a nice dinner? Just the two of us.” She looks back down at you with a bit of a sly grin. “Just you,” She pulls off an exaggerated hair flip. “And me.”
 
>You wait for Trixie to finish her sentence, but she seems to be taking an awful long time. She begins to stare at you oddly, which is weird because she’s the one making an overdramatic pause.
>”Well?”
“I-Uh… Oh! You… Nevermind. That sounds nice, but we’re pretty low on funds as it is.”
>”That won’t be a problem.”  Trixie magically opens a desk drawer and withdraws a moderate sized bag of bits. “I always keep spare bits if the need arises.”
>She skipped over a few words again, but you’re not the kind to make a big deal out of it.
“Did you have that back when we were about to lose the wagon?”
>”Mmmm, doesn’t matter.” She sets the bag back down in the desk and shoos you away with a hoof. “Go now. I must look at least somewhat presentable.” She then walks over to the nearest mirror and begins inspecting each side of her face.
>You stand there for a few awkward seconds before asking,
“Are we dressing in formal attire or…”
>Trixie sighs and turns to you once again while mumbling obscenities.
>”Yes, you imbecile! Dress as you would think I would want you to dress.”
>She looks at the mirror again, paying special attention to her eyes this time.
“So-“
>”Out!”
>Without looking back at you, her horn flares up as Trixie’s magic grabs you by the collar and drags you out the door.
>Once she’s alone, Trixie mumbles something about letting a mare dress in privacy before letting out a silent titter.
 
>About an hour later, you believe yourself to be proper looking.
>You’re wearing the only formal date-like attire you have, which is a light teal ballroom suit Rarity made for you a while back. You hated it. You still hate it. The color is too… Fifty’s for you. Ponies seem to love it though. Bright colors are a cool thing in Equestria after all.
>You double check the white vest and glossy white dress shoes before making the call.
>You look damn good.
>All the mares will be all over you, and Trixie may even pay you a compliment. Maybe even two!
>You exit your tiny room into the main… living room, you guess. You never really gave it a name, but it doesn’t need one, honestly. Living room should be fine.
>No sign of Trixie. She’s most likely still dressing up.
>HAH
>GIRLS
>AM I RIGHT, GUYS? You say to nobody.
>Trixie’s door then creaks open, only allowing amethyst colored eye to peek through. You hear a grunt of disappointment when her eye meets yours.
>She opens the door and thoroughly inspects your suit.
>”Tsk, that’s what you’re going to wear?”
“Well, yeah!” You look down at the suit and once again make sure everything is in order. “I think it looks pretty nice… Should I change?”
>Trixie audibly exhales and gives you a second look over.
>”It will due. You should have taken what I was wearing into consideration, however.”
“Well how was I… I…”
>You finally bring your attention to Trixie.
>You’re left speechless by what you see. Trixie looks immaculate. She keeps the consistent theme of stars and moons as it adorns her dress and even her hair. Her mane is styled up in a way that looks much more elegant than how she usually lets it hang down.
 
>Trixie notices you staring and adopts that, ‘That’s right. I’m the best and you know it’ look and brings a hoof to her chest.
>”Well, well, well. You seem to be enjoying the sight.”
“Well… Yeah! You… look nice, Trixie.” You clear your throat.
>”Anonymous.”
“Yes?”
>”You’re blushing.”
>You look forward. Unblinking. Unmoving.
“… No I’m not.” You say quietly.
>Trixie chuckles at your expense. “Actually,” Trixie wraps your little bowtie in magic. “Your outfit does look pretty cute.” She says before tightening it a little too much.
“Cute? Oh, cute. That’s just great. Every man likes to be called cute, you know.”
>”I’ll make a habit of it.” She teases as she walks by towards the door.
>The two of you soon exit the wagon.
>Trixie inquires where the two of you should eat.
>You say you have no idea.
>Trixie for some reason assumed you knew of great dining places around Fillydelphia. Why? You’re not sure. You think she was only looking for a reason to bicker.
>And that’s what the two of you did. Trixie offered to. “Find a place that would be fit for a mare like Trixie.” And proceeded to find reasons to argue with you. Most concluded with laughter, however. It’s become less of an annoyance and more of just a thing you and Trixie do. It’s not exactly the sweetest, most cute friendship, but it’s how you and Trixie have come to enjoy each other’s company.
 
>Soon enough, Trixie finds a place that suits her fancy.
>Too bad it was full.
>The two of you wandered for a while longer and found some place adequate enough.
>Also full.
>It was getting dark and Trixie was getting irritated. You suggested Trixie to lower her standards, and she responded with, “Why don’t you find a place if it’s so easy!”
>So you shrugged, spun around, and walked in that direction.
>Soon enough, you came across a more family oriented establishment that had all sorts of awesome smells coming from it. Trixie instantly refused it, but she put the choosing power in your hands. You entered, and she reluctantly followed.
>The two of you were seated within minutes at the bar, by request.
>Trixie was going through a pouty phase. If you dressed up that well and ended up going to a place like this, you would too.
>But tonight isn’t the right time for pouting.
>You order a couple light drinks with your food, just loosen the two of you up.
>The drinks came fast, and they went fast.
>You and Trixie were on your third drink before the two of you were swapping stories and jokes. Trixie would toss a playful insult your way every few minutes and you’d snap right back that would make Trixie say, “Oooh.” In a snarky way before taking another sip of her drink. As it turns out, you’re pretty good with comebacks with a few drinks in you.
 
>After the drinking, the eating, and the always present banter, you and Trixie finish up and pay the bill. Trixie makes a snide remark about how gentlecolts always pay for the bill. You can’t exactly dismiss or refute that simply because you somewhat agree. If you could pay, you would. However, things just aren’t working out that way.
>The two of you exit into the darkness of the night. Light still pours into the streets from lanterns and shop windows however.
>Trixie, nervous as she normally is in this city, sticks close to you as both of you walk back to the wagon.
>Unlike inside the restaurant, you and Trixie remain mostly silent the entire way back, the only thing breaking it being Trixie’s content sighs, and you clearing your throat once or twice.
>It all feels… refreshing. The celebration wasn’t quite what you or Trixie had hoped it would be, but it was a fun evening full of laughter and delicious food. You seriously can’t ask for more.
>Maybe good company, but Trixie filled the role quite well.
>As you and Trixie approach the wagon, something snaps you away from your thoughts.
>A shadowy figure sits next to the door in front, looking as if it’s twitching.
>Trixie is quick to notice it as well.
>”What’s that?” Trixie whispers.
“Don’t know…”
>Trixie is the first to step forward, igniting her horn in a brilliant purple light.
>The pony stands when Trixie does this, causing Trixie to stop and look at it cautiously.
>”H-Hey, guys…” A familiar voice calls out.
>Trixie’s eyes widen in realization as Vinyl Scratch steps into the light, shivering like mad.
“Vinyl?” You take a few steps forward. “Are you okay? What happened?”
>”I, uh… I-I’m in some trouble…”