Rarity walked along the street, humming a melodic tune under the clear, bright skies. She was walking over to Twilight Sparkle’s house to show off one of her lovely dresses, one that she believed Twilight would absolutely adore. It was her talent, after all. Rarity hit a high note in her internal song and began a content trot.
Suddenly, however, she ran into a mysterious cadre of ponies rolling down the street with a funky beat playing the background. She snapped out of her euphoria, the funky beat playing over her tune, and jumped out of the way of the oncoming crowd
“Oof!” Rarity grunted as something sidelined her, hitting her to the outside of the crowd. Her side burned as she dragged herself up, the peculiar crowd of ponies vanishing around the corner. One lone stallion rolled over, separate from the crowd, and brought his tricycle to her side.
“You okay, miss?” the pink stallion asked, holding out a hoof. Rarity reluctantly took it and stood up. She brushed herself off and noted with fury that her sapphire-embalmed saddlebags were dirtied.
“And you are?” she asked, a hint of anger emerging in her tone.
“Oh, hello,” said the stallion. “I’m Macklehorse. I’m just busy poppin’ some tags.”
“Tags..?” Rarity tilted her head in confusion. “For… shopping? But there’s no clothing shops in Ponyville other than the Carousel Boutique!”
“Yeah there is,” he said. “Follow me to the thrift shop.”
He and his cadre of ponies rounded the corner, Rarity following in curiosity. A thrift shop? What in Equestria was that? However, she glanced at her dirty side. A new saddlebag was in order, after all. It couldn’t hurt to do some shopping.
As she followed the cadre of strange ponies, she noticed the thrift shop they entered was only down the road.
“Now, I only got twenty bits in my pocket,” said Macklehorse, “But that’s still enough. Watch and learn.” He hopped off his tricycle, adjusted his large wool coat (extravagant, but elegant), and walked inside. Rarity, her curiosity held hostage, obediently followed. A true fashionista never turned down an opportunity to learn something for her craft.
The store was aisles and aisles of various used discount goods. Electronics, furniture, kitchenware, toys… and clothes. Rarity’s neck began to hurt as she scanned the entire store, trying to take in the vast surroundings of clothing all at once. The blonde stallion ran a hoof through his mane and bumped her shoulder.
“Moccassins?” he asked, holding out a quartet of (fake) leather. Rarity leaned forward to sniff, knowing someone had taken a walk in them. She immediately pulled back.
“Oh dear, it smells ghastly!”
The stallion nodded. “Just like R. Colty’s sheets.”
Rarity shook her head. The group of ponies walked through the thrift shop, picking up all sorts of electronics, clothes, and shoes. Giant signs hung over everything, advertising the ridiculously low prices, such as forty nine cents for a pound of electronics, or ninety nine cents for a t-shirt.
“Now listen. Let’s do a little bit of addition,” said Macklehorse, as a lovely mare grabbed him an adding machine.
“You can’t pay fifty bits for a t-shirt. That’s just a ripoff. I call that getting swindled and getting pimped,” said Macklehorse.
“Excuse me? It’s limited edition,” said Rarity, jerking her head back. “I’ll have you know that I am a premier fashion designer, and charge prices for quality. Fifty bits is a reasonable--”
“This was ninety-nine cents!” he said, holding up a horseshoe. “This is bucking awesome!”
Rarity winced, unable to resist the urge to question his language and confused by the term ‘cents.’
“What? What?”
“What?” Macklehorse set down the horseshoe and raised an eyebrow.
Macklehorse picked up a peculiar instrument and looked through the eyepiece. The sudden change in vision surprised him, almost causing him to drop it. The commotion attracted Rarity’s attention, bringing her before the stallion. He held it out to her.
“Want to take a look through my telescope?”
Rarity shook her head. “Look at the price. That’s swindling.”
“My, you’re right!” Macklehorse set down the telescope. “I’m getting ripped off by the business!”
“That’s no good,” said Cranky Doodle Donkey, trying on an old pair of rusty horseshoes.
Applejack was browsing through the used farm equipment to look for a slightly less saggy, slightly less old plow to replace Big Macintosh’s saggy old plow. She looked up when she heard the hoofsteps of an approaching pony.
“Hey, can I get your granny’s clothes?” asked Macklehorse.
“Uh… sure?” said Applejack, slowly scooting away from the strange stallion. His coat was wool, but fashionable. However, his charming looks still made her uncomfortable.
Macklehorse grinned, showing pearly white teeth. “I look incredible.”
Rarity watched as an incredibly long-coated pink mare danced around in the middle of the store with two grey stallions. She found it… peculiar, to say the least.
“That coat… she’s going to get compliments passing off in that!” Rarity muttered to herself. The mare’s coat had green draped on.
“Time to check out!” cried Macklehorse, and they all raced towards the cash registers. Rarity simply walked out the door, as there was nothing in here that she would even be caught dead wearing.
After the group made their purchases, Macklehorse beckoned them all to go to the local club. Rarity followed out of a sense of morbid curiosity. Ponyville’s local club was to host a fashion expositon this evening. There was no way that the fashionistas attending the event would look kindly upon such drab and old ensembles.
Later, the group was finally in the club.
Sapphire Shores was there, and she was wearing an old used blouse, a large straw hat, and a T-shirt, all for ninety nine cents.
Rarity’s mouth hung agape. How could Sapphire Shores of all ponies be wearing such a ghastly outfit!
“Woah, that’s a cold-ass donkey!” said Sapphire Shores, looking at Cranky Doodle and eyeing him with approval. She held up her chilled cider glass in cheers.
Cranky Doodle set down his pair of cheap sunglasses, smiled through his secondhand gold grille, and winked. He then turned around and high-fived Macklehorse with his old rusty horseshoe.
Rarity, gazing upon the strangely dressed crowd that now included her friends, looked at herself and realized she was still unclothed and plain. Macklehorse stood beside her, slowly sipping his cider.
She sighed and turned to the stallion, her mind finally made up.
“Hey, Macklehorse. Can we go thrift shopping?”
