A Not-So Special Spoiled Rich Hearth's Warming Eve

by deadpansnarker

Rating: everyone
Tags: Comedy, Filthy Rich, Spoiled Rich, Diamond Tiara, Slice of Life, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic
Length: 4091

Spoiled Rich wakes up early one merry Hearth's Warming Eve. Later, she goes to bed. SPOILER ALERT: She learns absolutely nothing about 'redemption' or 'the true meaning of the holidays'.

Spoiled Rich wakes up early one merry Hearth's Warming Eve. Later, she goes to bed. SPOILER ALERT: She learns absolutely nothing about 'redemption' or 'the true meaning of the holidays'.

This story is not connected with anything else I wrote, it is purely a Christmas one-shot to thank all my followers for sticking with me this far. So... thanks guys!

Published 2018-12-25 03:40:01 UTC
Last updated 2018-12-25 03:40:01 UTC

A Day In The Life Of A Humble Mare

I woke up this morning, and immediately tried to go back to sleep again. It's far too cold outside to be rushing about like a common labourer, so I daintily yawned, stretched a little and reapplied my silken napping mask.

That boneshaker of a butler will bring me my medium skimmed organic latte when I'm good and ready to honour the world with my presence, so I needn't concern myself with setting the alarm. If the aforementioned beverage is one centigrade too warm or cold again though, and he'll be in the unemployment line. Maybe he can get a job measuring coffins, seeing as how he'll be in one soon enough. Hee hee, that's a good one, I must remember to use it at the next big society ball.

Oh well, time to get some well-earned beauty sleep, not that I need it. This top-class nose job pays for itself, after all. My stubborn mule of a husband told me the two brilliant surgeon brothers who toiled for hours to give me this stunning new look were as fake as a thousand bit bill... ha! I saw their accreditation myself, from the F & F College Of Medicine, which they set up all on their own!

I swear, Filthy is just jealous because he only has the one store, these fine young gentlemen have an entire gambling resort and the prestigious University Of Friendship. Sadly, they had to close the latter down due to 'outside pressures', but who cares. Making friends is so overrated compared to making money, and now they can spend more time with their more valuable clientele...

Like ME!!

Oops, I believe I've thought too much. Remember: thinking is for the lower classes with too much time on their hooves, not to mention it brings out the unsightly brow lines in your forehead. Besides, I have ponies to handle my pondering for me, no sense in doing things easily taken care of by paid servants and various hangers-on. Without wasting a single extra second of valuable shuteye, I bury my face in my phoenix-down pillow, and get ready to drift away once more...

"Little pony, little pony, on the dusty road... got to keep on plodding onwards, with your precious load..."

What the... what is that frightful racket emanating from just under my bedroom window?! It sounds like somepony torturing a stricken cat before throwing the poor creature off of a bridge. Now, I'm not really one for 'cute' furry pets (they leave the most awful mess all over my plush four-piece suite every moulting season, plus there's my dander allergies to consider too) but such uncivilised barbarity must not take place on the hallowed grounds of Rich Mansion!

I curse under my breath (even ladies can only be pushed only so far) and swiftly reach for my snug dressing gown, handily stitched with the personalised engraving 'SR' of course. Wandering over to the double-glazing and staring out at the thick snow outside, I saw no feline dissection going on, although this would've proved to be a blessed relief in comparison to the true horror that awaited me outside that fateful day.

Somehow, a battalion of scruffy scoundrels had gained access to my inner sanctum, and were now proceeding to do the second worst thing next to making off with all the family silver in the dead of night.

Brace yourself, dear reader, for what you are about to read is Celestia's honest truth. I for one, can't believe I escaped from this traumatic situation alive, and even more amazingly, with all my mental faculties still intact. Those of a weak constitution may wish to look away now. Don't say you haven't been warned, my lovelies...

They were STANDING around, SINGING CAROLS. With, get this... homemade LANTERNS!!

The sheer nerve of it all! The bare-faced cheek! The absolute outrage! What would the Canterlot press monkeys make of this blatant intrusion, if they were on the scene right now? My non-stop attempts to be recognised in the highest elite circles by all and sundry will be completely ruined! Oh, what to do, what to do?

Okay, explanation time for those of you who aren't yet acquainted with me. You poor souls. My name is Lady Spoiled Rich and I hail from a successful line of entrepreneurs. Those of little knowledge might say it's my husband who does the manticore's share of the work, by getting up early each morning to graft his tail off until the wee small hours, but I of course know differently. He would be precisely nothing without having me to come home to and stare lustfully at each day, for every bit he gives me I spend selflessly to make myself look even more fabulous (if that's possible).

I know this for a fact, for as soon as the sun rises and he sees the beauteous visage of my features beaming down at him from on high, you should see him dash off! Within a short few minutes, he's dressed, showered, packed and galloping out of that front door quicker than greased lightning! This wouldn't be possible without my subtle encouragement by way of osmosis, and it does the trick every time! Due to my tireless work as his muse, it's been a record year for Barnyard Bargains so far... which means even more rare pelts and expensive jewellery for moi! See how far you can get my dears, when you truly work as a unit?

Unfortunately, those warbling rapscallions brazenly loitering with intent directly beneath our sleeping quarters represented a very clear and present danger to that foolproof arrangement. If I was kept awake any longer by this ceaseless cacophony, then my beloved might notice a single wrinkle caused by stress or insomnia. And, believe it or not, this might make all the difference: he'd soon lose his zest for work, profits would nosedive off the chart, we and our daughter would be out on the street begging for spare change...

Yes reader, it's all completely true. One family's livelihood can rest on the everyday appearance of its matriarch, and right now these uncaring ruffians will see us homeless, penniless and servantless before long with their incessant whining. Well not on my watch they won't.

I glance at the sign the undersized transient from Trottingham is waving around, written in a very foalish font and full of spelling inaccuracies. There's no way that spotted fool should've gotten a passing grade on his language test from Cheerilee, but that doesn't worry me for now, as a brilliant plan begins hatching in the inner recesses of my mind. See what brains and beauty can do, boys?

So, they're after donations to 'Help The Needy This Giving Season', are they? Well, I've got a very special delivery I can give them! I was going to warm it up to give my freezing hoofsies a warm glow later on, but circumstances being what they are, it's a sacrifice I'm willing to make. I hope they appreciate my patronage!

SLOSH! Bombs away! The bucket of ice-cold water has an immediate impact as it drenches each member of the ragtag band of miscreants, putting out their glaring lights and, even more importantly, and end to their obnoxious wailing. I don't stick around to see the consequences of my actions, but as I close the window and shut the curtains once more, a wide grin from ear to ear can be seen stretched upon my muzzle.

Putting pathetic peasants in their place should be a normal part of any distinguished equine's daily routine, but it's safe to say it's one I take to with absolute relish. Sometimes it's the smallest things that give you pleasure, I'm sure you agree.

I want to return to my utopian dreams where the riff-raff live on a distant island and everything (including the toilet seats) is made of 24 carat gold, but sadly my excitement over what I've just done keeps me from slumbering further. I'm so overjoyed in fact, I do something I haven't for as long as I can remember... I get up to pop downstairs for a glass of (bottled) water and perhaps a nice mint humbug.

I can't trust that Randy fellow to do it for me anyway: his rheumatism has got so bad recently, he'd probably spill half of it on my plush carpet en route. I keep nagging my naive husband to get rid of that aged stick insect of a butler, but he just mumbles a lame excuse about keeping him on for 'sentimental' reasons. I think I'm gradually wearing Hubby down though, since I caught him circling vacancies for retirement homes in the paper the other day. Which to be honest, is just where Randy belongs.

It was just as I was heading toward the fridge that I received my second shock of the day. Okay, so this one was nowhere near the same level as finding a bunch of urchins causing noise pollution on my property, but it still qualifies as a jolt. Instead of being out and about selling things and negotiating deals to keep my wardrobe and jewellery drawer full, Filthy is languishing in the front room making something by hoof whilst wearing one of the most garish, moth-eaten sweaters I've ever seen. It has some kind of tree motif on it, but the combination of red and green is just plain ghastly.

Needless to say, as a concerned wife I cannot allow this facile situation to continue any longer, so I march right on over there to talk to him in my most commanding voice. "Excuse me Filthy, but what on Equestria do you think you're doing? Playing hobo dress-up, when you have a wide array of flash business suits? Crafting things by hoof, when we have numerous servants who could do that for you? And why are you home, and not earning bits to keep our luxuriant lifestyle afloat? You don't look sick to me, and even if you were, that's no excuse! Sometimes I apply the wrong kind of blush in the morning, but that doesn't stop me from getting to my job as head of the school board! Come on, out with it! What possible reason could you have for lying around here like a lazy loafer, instead of doing your sworn duty as breadwinner of this household?!"

My true love stops what he's doing to turn and roll his eyes at me (a touching term of endearment, he's been doing it for years now) before replying in a quiet voice. "Spoiled, did you forget what the date is today? It's Hearth's Warming Eve. This is one of the few days I get off in the calendar, so I'm making the most of it by dressing for the occasion and putting together some homemade decorations to hang outside. Why don't you try getting it the spirit of things for a change? I could do with some help tying these pieces of holly together, and I have a spare jumper upstairs which would be just your size..."

"W-WHAT?!" I exclaimed loudly, simultaneously repelled by the invitation whilst in shock at being reminded of the date. "Never! I'd rather go back to work on my parent's farm as a milkmaid than participate in such mindless tomfoolery, and that's saying something! What would happen if that sharp plant were to cut me? Or that itchy sweater caused me to break out in hives? Also, have you forgotten that I've hated this day since my invite to the Princesses' Hearth's Warming party keeps getting mislaid every year? I keep telling them to post it at the same time as yours and Diamond Tiara's, but it never turns up. It's a real shame I have to insist you stay with me at the mansion instead of going there each year, but until they sort out this ongoing problem with the postal service, all of us will have to miss out I'm afraid!"

"Sure, 'mislaid'..." Oh look, he's doing that thing with his eyes again! He must love me so much! Not that I can blame him. "I suppose it was too much to hope for, that you'd change your mind. Oh well, I suppose you'll be going back to bed until the only part of the holiday arrives that you like begins: Present Opening. Don't fret, I'll be sure to wake you up before we start unwrapping gifts. Why don't you return upstairs, and I'll let you know the minute we begin?"

"Oh darling, you know me so well! Kissy kissy kissy!" I thanked Filthy with a caress from my lips on his cheek, before deciding to share with him my recent honourable endeavour. "Before I go though, you'll never guess what I did! Some local hooligans from the town decided to trespass onto our property and bother my ears, but I took care of them with my freezing pail of water! You should've seen their faces when it drenched them to the bone! In hindsight though, I probably did them all a favour! This'll probably be the first time any of those scruffs have had a decent wash in years! Not that I want to offend, but I think you know what I mean, dear!"

I didn't quite see Filthy's (I'm sure) admiring response at my accomplishment since I was too busy roaring with laughter, but that was soon interrupted by a roar from the stallion himself.

"WHAT?!" My merriment was soon cut short as he not only shouted loud enough to wake the dead, but stood up so quickly that his crafting paraphernalia ended up scattered all over the floor.

"Filthy, just what do you think you're doing?" I exclaimed with surprise at his most uncouth reaction. "I told you, I took care of it! And please don't yell like that! You know how sensitive my eardrums are this early in the morning, and whatever will the neighbours think?"

"I don't give a damn about your ears or the neighbours!!" I was staggered at Filthy's ire aimed directly at me. Has he gone mad? "I invited those carol singers around here specially this morning to give us some much-needed festive cheer, Celestia knows we could do with it after you keep us at home every year when we should be out celebrating! I was going to give them a big donation too, considering the uprise of poverty there's been of late in the area. But for you to... on today of all days... our daughter was down there!!"

"Huh?! Diamond Tiara... was singing... alongside all the plebs? I suppose she in the back row, wearing one of those ridiculous hats with blinkers, no wonder I couldn't recognise her!" Most of what Filthy said there was ignorable blabber, but I couldn't overlook this aspect of his lecture. "Oh Filthy, how could you? I told you not to encourage this newfound disturbing fetish she has for mingling with the commoners! It's not going to help my efforts to return her to her old self, you know. I actually thought I was making some progress, but this little stunt of yours might have set her back months! Plus, she might have even caught hypothermia! How can you expect me to do my dedicated beauty regime every day, get to Ponyville Elementary for my job and take care of a sick filly? You've really done it this time, haven't you?!"

"I-I... b-but... y-you..." Poor Filthy looked at though he was on the verge of having an aneurysm, and his face was turning as red as some of his sweater. Well, that's what you get when you make such important decisions without me. "D-Don't you move a muscle! We're going to settle this when I return, in the meantime I want to see if my daughter is okay! Stay where you are, Mrs Spoiled! And let me tell you before I leave, I am not happy about this at all!!"

Well, that did it. I'm not usually a disobedient wife, but after my husband unaccountably shouted at me to my face, implied that maybe some of this utter mess was my fault and called me a disrespectful name he hasn't used in years, that was the final straw.

As soon as he sauntered off, I grabbed my pelt to make my way into town. The only thing that could stop me from experiencing a nervous breakdown was an extra-deluxe session at the spa... on his credit, of course. He'll make up in some way for treating me this shabbily, even if he doesn't know it yet.

"And of course, he's been foolish enough to give the hired help a few days off, so this clutter on the floor won't be cleared until after the weekend at least. What a farce!" I scolded Filthy in his absence, just before departing.

I just don't know what gets into him at this time of year. He's usually such a savvy businesspony, but he occasionally has these strange urges to 'help out the community' and 'give to charity', without thinking of my needs or reputation at all! Hopefully, with some persistent 'motivation', this ingratiating character flaw can be eradicated forever, but until then I'll have to somehow endure his temporary bouts of madness.

In the meantime, it's time to make myself scarce. It is my firm hope that upon my return, Filthy will have thought long and hard regarding his demeanour towards his loving, supportive wife and will offer up the most grovelling of apologies. Well, he can forget it... unless it's accompanied by some kind of monetary compensation for his unprecedented tirade. Also he needs to start following my lead when it comes to punishing Diamond Tiara for communing with the down-and-outs, instead of continually siding with her for her unbecoming conduct.

If, by some remote chance, he actually has a change of heart while I'm gone about everything, I may decide to forgive him instead of badgering him for weeks afterwards.

But this is entirely at my discretion. Never let it be said I can't be merciful, when the time or the price is right.

.....................................

Well, that was a complete waste of time.

Apparently, the spa is 'Closed For The Holidays', according to the big sign on the door. I tried kicking it a few times to get their attention (not too hard though, it's not like I want to chip a hoof) but apparently nopony was home. After all, if anypony was present, who could refuse to open up for me? For a mare of my prestige, they wouldn't dare.

I suppose Aloe and Lotus Blossom have gone back to 'The Old Country' for Hearth's Warming, which just shows how far the tendrils of this ridiculous festival have extended across the world. Like mindless lemmings, most ponies are. Only the truly enlightened can see this sorry charade for what it is: a pitiful waste of time and resources.

You don't need silly songs, decrepit decorations or stuffing your face like a fat pig to be happy, all you require is money and beauty. Which, it goes without saying, I already have in abundance.

Even the only good part of this pointless festival, the gift exchanges, can be carried out at any other time of the year. Come to think of it, why should I even have to give anything back, anyway? What have the vast majority of these undeserving ponies ever done for me, apart from push in front at the steam room, or refuse to instantly stop when I want to cross the street?

I have to do my best to help their useless offspring have a passable future in something other than the fast food industry, and this is how they choose to repay me? How very rude, however I suppose one can't expect anything less from this particular class of individual. Hearth's Warming might be known for miracles, but to expect squalid toerags to respond to my thankless efforts with any kind of gratitude or appreciation is far too much to hope for.

Cold, frustrated and thoroughly annoyed, I have no other option but to head back to the relative warmth of Rich Mansion. Most of the snot-nosed brats I see on my return journey are rotting their teeth with candy canes or gabbering nonsense to their parents about visiting long-distant relations. At least some of the younger generation seem to acknowledge my contribution to their upkeep though, judging by the amount of snowmares I see in my likeness dotted along the path. Quite flattering, I must say.

Unfortunately, quite a few have been vandalised by decapitation or have an unfortunate misspelling of my second name written on the front (here's a clue: it doesn't start with 'b') but I suppose it's the thought that counts.

Which reminds me: it's a long term ambition of mine to have a permanent statue in my glorious image to greet guests in our front hall. I just have to find the right sculptor who can capture my true inner essence, and then we can get started. Filthy is up for the idea too, he says it'll 'deter nuisance callers better than any dog could'. Well, I knew that already... anypony worth their salt would be intimidated by my grace and majesty, but it's always nice to be reminded of these saliant facts.

Speaking of Filthy, I wonder if now he's had the chance to calm down, he's reflected on the pettiness of his tantrum. If he's ready to listen to reason and apologise, how will I choose for him to make it up to me? Maybe, a new platinum necklace? Perhaps two, with an ornate brooch? I have to be hard on the poor dear, he was a bit too boisterous for my tastes earlier on.

Then, after we've grounded Diamond Tiara together (after all, there's no 'i' in team) maybe I'll sweeten the deal by putting on that sexy outfit he bought me during our honeymoon. Perhaps he'll actually last the course this time, instead of rushing off to the lavatory to throw up. Those bouts of food poison always seem to inconveniently occur just when we're about to make out. No wonder my plans to raise a second, better heir keep going awry. Maybe I should pressure Filthy to fire our cook, after that Randy fellow has finally been shown the door.

Huh? This is very odd indeed. Upon entering the mansion, and preparing myself for a long argument, I experience nothing of the sort. The place appears to be empty, there's some freshly packed bags by the entrance and the two party invites for my husband and daughter are missing.

It's only after I scrutinise the bags more closely and discovering them full of my favourite things, that I piece everything together.

Of course! It's all so simple! The dear stallion has thrown out the invites so I won't feel inadequate at missing out again, he's gone for a long walk with Diamond Tiara to tell her to respect her mother more and best of all, he's booked us both a vacation to some far off exotic clime to apologise for his earlier brutishness!

How truly wonderful! This is better than a thousand platinum bracelets! Just wait until the stuck-up ladies at the croquet club hear about this! They'll be so jealous, they'll miss every shot! What a fantastic outcome!

It does kind of beg the question, as to where Filthy has put his luggage. I guess he'll pack his stuff later, after his long talk with our daughter. I do hope he's not too hard on her, after all she was led astray by those immature rubes from her class. If he can just ban them from ever seeing her outside school again, that would be a sufficient compromise for me.

Anyway, the sun is high in the clouds, and I'm starting to feel drowsy again. Time to reapply my mud pack, slip my sleeping mask back on and kiss the stars once more. First thing tomorrow, it's time to start browsing through brochures and topping up my tan.

My life. Don't you wish you had it?

Author's Note

Merry Christmas, everyone. Hope you enjoyed this festive tale with a difference. :moustache:

And now I'm only 1 story away from my 100th fic on this site. WOO HOO! :pinkiehappy: Maybe I've got something big planned, maybe I haven't. Wait and see... :raritywink: