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“Ch-Yes, sir.”
“Scheduled six o’ clock appointment?” Fancy Pants asked his pegasus assistant, the tan pony furiously scribbling on the small roll of parchment he’d brought. The occasional bump from the carriage ride painstakingly forced him to slow down here and there, but he recorded the majority of it atop his small black briefcase.
“Check – I mean, yes, sir!”
Duly Noted, aptly matching his scroll Cutie Mark, nodded overenthusiastically. The chalk colored unicorn sitting bored across from him let out yet another nearly silent sigh, eyeing the dull grey clouds on the horizon.
For Noted, it was one of his few opportunities to prove himself a worthy assistant of the wealthy businesspony. It brought him no end of satisfaction to succeed where so many others had failed, promptly keeping Fancy’s records and every meeting in strict accordance with schedule.
But more so than that, bloated paycheck made it completely worth it.
And with Fancy Pant’s every successful corporate takeover, his wealth grew exponentially; so long as he continually sold off bits of the other companies here and there, that is. Fancy was a stallion of class, and he wasn’t too keen on letting that all go down the drain just to save a couple of struggling businesses. A few could fail or dwindle here and there; after all, he had the money to buy another two or three for every one that was lost.
“Hopefully, this trip to Canterlot will prove, er… that it’ll go over well, Fancy?” Duly Noted tried making conversation awkwardly, still attempting to get used to Fancy’s nearly constant silence.
“That’s Mister Pants,” Fancy deadpanned, his miniscule blue moustache twitching. “And I have no doubts about my current state of affairs. The Canterlot Clothing Conglomerate-” he said with what was either a hint of disdain or simply a struggle with a tongue twister “-has already filed for bankruptcy. They’re ripe for the plucking, as it were.”
Fancy Pants spoke with a confidence that he didn’t actually feel, but such was necessary for any businesspony. Impressions were everything, after all.
“Yessir, Mister Pants,” Noted hung his head slightly, but perked up immediately afterwards. The bumps in the road had eventually been swallowed by the cobblestone paved paths of outer Canterlot, meaning that they were nearing their destination. Besides, it was cramped in their small carriage, and smelled of beets.
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“Sold!”
“I beg your pardon?!”
Fancy spluttered indignantly, glaring at the pampered pony before him as the remainder of the paper pushers and attendants filed from the room past him as if he were a floor lamp, or something equally uninteresting.
“Sold, honey,” Sapphire Shores beamed at him from across her desk, flittering her golden eyes at him in a mocking manner. “You got here too late, and I sold the remaining stock to some poor dumb minotaur who actually thinks he can make self-help seminars a business.” The mare chortled goodnaturedly, completely in opposition to Fancy’s barely contained rage.
“This-is-unacceptable!” Fancy growled, eyes narrowing to slits. Duly Noted, wisely waiting around the corner in the hall, peered his head a bit around to get a better view. “I personally attended the bidding; I carefully ensured the continuation of Canterlot Clothing Conglomerate!”
“Say that ten times fast,” Sapphire giggled, propping her hooves upon her desk.
“I paid in advance!” Fancy raised his voice slightly, the grinding urge to completely abandon his gentlepony composure rising.
“And that’ll all be returned to your Manehattan bank account,” Sapphire Shores grinned, not bothering to look at the enraged unicorn any longer. “Minus transferal fees, of course, Fancy.”
“FORGET your bogus transaction scams! And that’s Mister Pants!” Fancy’s ice blue eyes bored a hole in her, but she didn’t so much as blink. “The more important question is how in the world anypony could have possibly held precedence over a company that I already paid for!”
“He presented his case, and I deemed it necessary that Mister William’s presentation arguing his collection of Canterlot Congl-Canterlot Clothing Conglomerate – my, that is a mouthful. Look, Fancy,” Sapphire became serious for a moment. “He’s a married minotaur. He’s got a family to feed. In comparison, he just looks better on paper. You’re only going to turn around and sell the dump anyway for a couple of bits, just like you do with all the others.”
“My reputation precedes me, I see.” Fancy Pants seethed quietly.
Sapphire’s impossibly large smile only grew wider.
“Besides… he had a better credit score.”
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Fancy tapped his forehooves along the pavement impatiently, awaiting the carriage that would reinstate the long trek back to Manehattan. He should have hired a professional for balloon transportation, it occurred to him in hindsight. Or perhaps one of those newfangled ‘blimp’ things that seemed to be growing in popularity.
He snorted quietly to himself, much to the confusion of Duly, who was thankfully quiet for once instead of sniveling at his side. At least, until he began rifling through his papers for the umpteenth time that day.
“Shall I cancel the charity banquet appointment for this weekend since the purchase didn’t fall through? Sir?”
He’s a married minotaur. He’s got a family to feed.
It was nothing more than a bloated balloon ride, only slower and more crowded.
He frowned distastefully, eyeing a couple of scantily clad mares tittering with an old grey stallion on the street corner. It took him a moment to realize that the transaction that had just taken place in front of him, with the old pony handing each of them a small bag of bits, was actually happening.
Disgraceful.
But it was his own business, and Fancy wasn’t particularly in the mood to do anything other than grumpily await his ride.
Still, the fact that such occurrences were so unnoticed on the outskirts of Canterlot, for Celestia’s sake, astounded him.
“Sir?”
“What?” Fancy’s head snapped around toward Duly, who shrunk a small bit at his sudden movement. Fancy took a deep breath, thinking.
“What is it, Duly Noted?” he asked patiently, sorely wishing for some form of seating arrangement or boudoir, as it looked like a rainstorm would arrive sooner than anticipated. The weather patrol must have been working overtime that day.
“I-I, um, sorry sir,” Duly apologized profusely, nodding his head.
“Nothing to be sorry about,” Fancy said gruffly. “Continue.”
“Well, sir, I was only wondering if you’d prefer to cancel your scheduled appearance at The Clockwork Orange’s charity banquet this Saturday, considering the fact that, um, Miss Sapphire…”
Duly left his statement hanging, which caused Fancy’s frown to furrow a little deeper into his face.
“I’d almost forgotten about that,” Fancy admitted slowly. He rubbed his chin, pursuing one idea after another. “It wouldn’t do to allow my reputation to suffer further should I fail to appear.”
“Right,” Duly nodded in agreement enthusiastically. “After the embarrassing way you just lost th’ Conglomeration, I’ll bet you’ll be mocked behind your back for weeks bef-ooh.”
At the steady but deadly glare Fancy was giving him, Duly Noted slammed his jaw shut tight, lest it should betray him further.
As the wooden carriage ever so slowly pulled up to the curb approximately seventeen minutes late, with heavy thoughts, Fancy began clambering inside the old vehicle as Duly paid the driver and carried his small briefcase.
Something had to be done, he insisted to himself as they took off at a crawling pace, the rough noise of the cobblestone muffled beneath them. Fancy rubbed his aching temples with his hooves as Duly rambled on about the return time, which Fancy tried to ignore. He simply nodded a couple of times, staring out the window as he pondered precisely what he was going to do to improve his failing reputation.
It wasn’t like this was just the beginning.
No, this was the fourth one he’d lost in the last month.
And if the figures alone weren’t depressing enough, the statistical likelihood of improving in time to salvage what was left of his business tactics didn’t seem to high, either. Perhaps it was just the light sprinkle dulling the noise, or the cool glass pressed against his cheek, but Fancy couldn’t quite seem to shake the feeling that everything was about to go down the drain.
It called for drastic action.
Perhaps he’d attend a different organized event, before making a better name for himself in order to improve his image.
And Fancy Pants was halfway through that thought, staring idly out the window at a young mare leaning suggestively against a wall as passersby completely ignored her, that it hit him harder than his ex-wife with a bowling pin.
Time seemed to slow down as the carriage rolled past, and Fancy’s breath caught in his throat.
She was, unlike some of the other mares he’d seen so provocatively ‘displaying their wares’, completely without any form of clothing or protection from the rain. Her mane dripped over her head in such a fashion that one was forced to look harder to see her eyes, and those alone glimmered with an alluring light.
The unicorn even gave a small, nearly undetected smile as he passed, her rosy upturned lips complementing her damp mane and pale coat.
In short, she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.
“And afterwards, perhaps some cinnamon –”
“STOP THE CARRIAGE!”
Both Duly and the lime green earth pony driver jumped a little at Fancy’s outburst, and they skidded to a halt to the dismay of the stallions pulling them. Fancy was fairly certain he heard something along the lines of ‘not getting paid enough for this’, but didn’t particularly care at that point, anyway.
“S-sir?”
“Duly,” Fancy said swiftly. “I want you to take the carriage, cancel the return home, and reserve hotel rooms. Immediately.”
“But, sir –” Duly Noted started, only to be cut off.
“I don’t care how, where, or how much,” Fancy gave him a level look, not even raising his voice that time. Then again, from the dead silence in the carriage, he didn’t need to. “Just do it. Fast.”
Duly opened his mouth, but quickly closed it again and nodded furiously.
And with that, Fancy shoved the door to the carriage open, leapt out, and was left behind in the steadily pouring drizzle.
He earned a couple of vaguely interested looks from a couple of passing ponies with umbrellas, but it didn’t take them long to continue along their way. Taking a moment to catch his breath, he approached the pale coated unicorn leaning in faux comfort against a light pole. Fancy noticed for a second that his hooves were shaking, which he attributed to the surprisingly cold rain.
It didn’t help that it was coming down a little harder than before, either.
“E-excuse me, miss?”
Fancy cleared his throat, and mentally kicked himself. He didn’t sound nearly as assured and confident as he should have. Firm voice, sturdy position, balanced conversation. Easier said than done. The racket from a couple of passing carriages behind him put him on edge.
“Good evening, handsome,” the unicorn smiled politely at him. Again, much to Fancy’s surprise, the lithe mare had a particularly lilting voice. It reminded him of a wilting flower, dainty and easily swayed in the breeze.
“Oh, please,” Fancy replied automatically. “Handsome is my father. My name is Mister P-Fancy. You may call me Fancy Pants.”
The unicorn stared at him with widened, baleful eyes for a split second, before a tiny giggle escaped her lips. He had no idea why, but the mere sound of it made him want to burst out into laughter as well. It took a perturbingly large amount of effort to quash.
“That’s… an odd name,” she said admittedly, brushing a sopping lock of mane from her face. Fancy suddenly found himself wishing he’d brought an umbrella like some of those passing, cursing his lack of foresight. Her voice had a sing-song tone to it, alluringly drawing his ears up.
“Where are my manners?” Fancy cleared his throat yet again. “Madam, you appear to be both soaking wet and absolutely frigid. Would you care to join me somewhere a tad more homely?”
His heart raced so faced that he could feel it in his throat, and the blank look she returned confused him a little. It seemed to take her a moment, and she shook her head rapidly as rivets of water were flung away.
“I-I’m sorry,” she hung her head. “That would – that’d be lovely,” she stuttered, prompting Fancy to signal for another carriage.
“You certainly seem a bit nervous!” Fancy said in a forcedly cheerful tone. “One would assume that a mare in your type of business would be accustomed to the advances of rich ponies from time to time! Ha ha!”
Fancy immediately knew that he’d said the wrong thing, from the dim confusion gradually changing to a hurt expression, mixed with sadness and… something else. The quiet tone with which she spoke belied a possibly foreign upbringing, and even though she looked utterly bedraggled in the rain, she still stood with a poise and grace that made her seem out of place on the street.
The mare cleared her throat, rubbing one of her forelegs with the other awkwardly. “I’m… not exactly, you know…”
At first, Fancy Pants thought that he’d made a dreadful mistake, and just made a complete fool of himself to a random mare who merely happened to be awaiting a carriage as he had been. A sliver of relief rose when she spoke again, along with a hint of melancholy at her depressed tone.
“I’m… new at this,” she said lightly, a pink tinge alighting her cheeks in embarrassment.
Make an ass of yourself again, why don’t you, Fancy scolded himself.
“Quite alright, my dear, quite alright,” he said quickly in what he hoped sounded exquisite instead of shaky and uncomfortable. One of the rickety (but thankfully empty) carriages slowly rolled to a stop in front of them, and he wasted no time in pulling open the door for her.
“Besides, you needn’t worry,” he continued as she looked at the carriage interior with apprehension. “I didn’t have anything of the sort in mind.” Fancy reassured her.
“… Is that so?” she asked suspiciously, but seemed torn between going elsewhere or joining him in the carriage.
“Actually, madam, I’d like to discuss a business proposition with you, if that’s quite alright.”
Before she could respond, Fancy decided to sweeten the pot in hopes of convincing her.
“And regardless of whatever your answer, I will gladly pay you for both your time and nightly lodgings. No catch.”
The mare stood stock still for a moment, before checking behind her. Within seconds, she had joined the drenched stallion in the carriage, still shivering from the cold.
They traveled in silence for a while, the mare simply draining the rain from her waterlogged mane in discomfort.
“Oh!” she spouted suddenly, and such a loud noise sounded strange coming from her lips, considering how quietly she had spoken before. “I-I’m so sorry!” she apologized profusely.
“Nonsense,” Fancy said with a pleasant smile. “Nothing to be sorry about, madam. Whatever seems to be the problem?”
“I, well…” the unicorn started uncertainly. “I don’t know if such proceedings are customary in these types of… operations. I do beg your pardon, good sir, for I appear to have forgotten my manners with the rest of my belongings, Mister Pants.”
“Oh, no, no. Please, call me Fancy,” he beamed at her.
“Very well, Mister… Fancy,” she said gracefully, and he took her hoof in his own as they shook. “My birth name is Fleur De Lis. A pleasure to meet your acquaintance.”
“Really, Miss Fleur,” Fancy bowed his head slightly as the gears began to turn, powering the machinations within. “The pleasure is all mine.”
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Author's Note
Bring a top hat and cane.
