No, there is not a Raricow joke here.
Rarity hummed as she held shut the blender, relishing in the cool air emanating from her icy treat. Strawberries, ice and milk littered her kitchen counter as she blended the ingredients together. An empty bottle, formerly hosting her secret ingredient, laid in the waste of her preparation.
Rarity was, indeed, making milkshakes.
Her milkshakes had a magical quality to them. Not the magic of the three tribes, but a magic of their own. A quality to them that no other milkshake rivaled, as if Rarity had a second talent underneath her mark of three diamonds. Everypony who tasted the sweet nectar of her milkshakes would be entranced by their composition, and the soul would be soothed by the sweet music of her sugary concoction.
The souls requiring soothing cried from the halls of her boutique. Rarity opened her eyes, mid-hum, as loud crashing noises came from upstairs. She turned off the blender and moved to the doorway, but her two assistants tumbled down the stairs. She paused, counted to three, and watched as two piles of fabric landed on top of the groaning duo.
Rarity trotted to a nearby table in her multipurpose living room, placing three glasses and the pitcher of godly nectar on top of their proper coasters. She turned her head and glanced at the struggling assistants, chuckled, and turned to pour the milkshakes. A full glass for Spikey-Wikey, half a glass for herself, and three-fourths of a glass for her growing sister.
“Rarity! Spike keeps tripping me!” Sweetie Belle whined as she tried to lift the now-folded pile of fabric onto her back with magic, to no avail. “He keeps stepping on my tail!”
“Maybe if you didn’t scamper in front of me, I wouldn’t!” Spike retorted as he effortlessly lifted his pile with a single arm. Constant manual labor did the body good, as the growing teenager had learned from his service in Rarity’s boutique. Rarity watched as he bickered with her sister as they carried the fabric to the sewing table, calculating the chances of them ending up together. Sweetie Belle was that age, after all. If she didn’t snag Spike while he was still young and naive, somepony with more ladylike class would…
“Rarity...? Rarity?!” Sweetie Belle called into Rarity’s ears, causing the older sister to instinctively shake her head and out of her thoughts. “Yoohoo!”
“Yes, dear sister, I hear you!” Rarity gently nudged her sister aside, giving her much-needed breathing room so she could hand out the milkshakes. Spike took his glass immediately, his eyes shining and his tongue hanging out and salivating. Sweetie Belle took hers, but shot a sideways glare at Spike in contempt. Rarity giggled at the two and reached down for her milkshake.
She froze, her hoof hovering an inch away from the moist glass. The pink milkshake’s surface rippled ever so slightly. Ripple, ripple, ripple like a gentle heartbeat. Rarity looked up to the pale, anguished faces of her assistants. They opened their lips.
“They’re coming,” they whispered simultaneously. The ripples became more rapid, until the ground itself began to shake. Rarity quickly gathered up the milkshakes as her assistants scrambled to secure anything fragile that would fall.
“Quick! We have to hurry!” Rarity cried as she helped a fallen Sweetie Belle to her hooves. Spike, setting down a valuable vase on the ground, stood up straight and stopped scrambling about. The sisters noticed his sudden freeze, and stared at him.
“Spike! What are you doing?” Sweetie Belle cried as the boutique’s lights began to flicker. Rarity’s red warning lights turned off, basking the boutique in an eerie glow as an annoying buzzing filled the air. Sweetie Belle detached herself from her sister’s forelegs and stumbled toward Spike. “We have to run!”
Spike sighed and ran a claw through his spines. “I’m… I’m tired of running,” he said, dramatically looking into the distance. “We… we have to fight back!”
Rarity gulped and stared at her growing teenage assistant. “A-are you sure? Do you think we can defeat them? You know what they want, and they’ll do anything to get it!”
“Get the hat,” Spike said, clenching his fists.
“But—”
“Get the hat!” he roared, his pupils dilating and his fangs bared. Rarity swallowed her doubts and nodded before scrambling upstairs. Sweetie Belle fawned over Spike’s sudden outburst, then immediately blushed and stuck her tongue out when he glanced in her general direction.
Minutes later, Rarity returned.
On top of her fashionable cranium lied a hat, a scarlet hat with a bent bill and a check mark sigil sewed into it. She trotted to her assistants and handed them their items: a white bandana for Spike, and crystal necklace for Sweetie Belle. The two equipped their clothing as Rarity trotted toward the door. She secured a saddlebag onto her flanks and placing the milkshake rations inside.
Rarity gulped as she opened the door.
“It’s time.”
The trio, Rarity leading their path, exited the boutique and walked onto the grassy yard. For some reason, as if Discord himself had enchanted it, her yard appeared large enough to host a whole crowd of ponies. Which, soon, it would.
In the horizon, a speck could be seen. Rarity held a hoof to her brow, squinted her eyes, and peered into the distance. A herd of ponies were galloping toward her boutique. No, a herd of stallions were galloping toward her boutique, entranced by the aroma of her milkshakes.
“The boys,” she whispered, shivering as the fur on her neck stood on end.
The trio waited until the stallions slowed to a halt at the edge of her yard, then calmly trotted toward them. One stallion, the smooth-talking Filthy Rich, broke from the herd and stepped forward.
“Surrender your milkshakes, fair maiden!” he offered, giving a slight bow to the Goddess of Milkshakes as he sniffed her yard and contemplated grazing as an after-snack. He returned his gaze to her, and briefly glanced at the younger duo.
“Never!” Rarity spat, summoning Spike’s earlier righteous fury. “I will never surrender my spoils to you ever again!”
“Then so be it,” Filthy Rich said as he stepped backwards into the herd. “Now, we battle!”
The Boys would like to battle!
An eight-bit tune began to play in the background as Rarity took a battle stance on the opposite side of the yard. She turned her hat backward and pointed her hoof forward. “Spikey-Wikey! I choose you!”
“Uh, Rarity?” Spike scratched his head at Rarity’s side. “Can’t we, you know, just charge in altogether like we usually do?”
Rarity facehoofed and mumbled orders, summoning Spike and Sweetie Belle to her side. Thanks to her genre fumble, the boys went first.
The Boys used Compliment!
“Hey baby,” Thunderlane said as he hovered above the crowd. He slicked his mane back and winked toward Rarity. “Maybe it’s the milkshakes talking, but I want to shake your milk!”
“Egads!” Rarity stuck her tongue out. “How revolting, you uncultured swine!”
It wasn’t very effective...
Filthy Rich stepped forward and smirked, a smug glean shining in his eyes.
The Boys used—
“No fair! That’s cheating!” Pinkie Pie heckled from the sidelines, pausing from her popcorn munching as she sat on the lawn chair. “The Boys can’t go twice!”
System: The Boys are not mooks, they are a boss.
“Oh yeah. On with the fight!” Pinkie Pie continued eating the buttered popcorn.
The Boys used Flaunting Wealth!
“Oh my, look at all these stocks I own!” Filthy Rich bragged as he dropped piles of paper and bits from his shirt pockets. “I’m sooooo rich! I might be married, but I still like ‘em young!”
“Oh my…” Rarity began to drool, her eyes turning into blue hearts. Spike coughed, bring her back to reality as she shook her head.
It was super effective! Rarity is confused!
“Yes! My turn!” Spike pumped his arm, stepping in front of Rarity. A bead of sweat dripped down her forehead as she concentrated, deciding the next course of action
Spike 23/23
>Attack
>>Skills
>Items
>Run
It’d be best to end this quick, so one of Spike’s skills might come in handy.
Skills
>Mail Call [Magic]
>Flame Breathe [Dragon]
>Whine Like A Little Bitch [Baby]
>Gawk At Rarity [Male]
Rarity’s eyes flickered back and forth, taking in the skillset. Of course, she didn’t even bother to consider why in Equestria she was suddenly able to view a HUD and determine a course of action for another sentient being, but she was somewhat busy at the moment. She bit her lip, her vision turning hazy. Come on, Rarity! You can do this! The choice is… obvious!
>Flame Bre—
Spike used Whine Like A Little Bitch!
Rarity facehoofed.
Spike stepped forward and placed a hand on his hip. “Oh my gosh, guys, it’s like sooo hot out here! All I’ve done today is, like, wake up, go to Rarity’s, and help her out by carrying heavy stuff all day! I’m sweaty, tired, and all I want is a nap.”
“You know, I’m kinda tired too,” one stallion whispered in the herd. His friend nodded his agreement.
“Dude, I’m so hot right now.”
“I want to take a nap too!”
“Guys! I’m sweaty! YEAH!!”
Silence fell over the herd of stallions as one pegasus leaped up. Silent agreement drifted through the ranks until the herd quietly booted the stallion out.
Critical Hit!
“Well, that was certainly something,” Rarity said, blinking rapidly as Spike returned to her side. “Good work, Spikey-Wikey. That’ll teach those brutes! I hope.”
Spike grinned and waved a nonchalant claw. “Don’t worry about it. Anything for you, lady Ra—”
Krak-a-thoom!
Lightning struck the herd from a nearby cloud, scattering some of the lesser stallions. Sweetie Belle stood in front of Rarity, panting. Rarity opened her mouth to speak, but wisely closed it as Sweetie turned her head and shot a glare.
“Rarity! You take way too long!” Sweetie Belle sighed and fondled her necklace. “And this necklace is so cool!”
Now it was Rarity’s turn.
Okay, Rarity girl, you’ve got this! Rarity thought to herself as she peered at the opposing herd of stallions. She furrowed her sweating brow, attempting to go through her list of skills. Think, Rarity, think. What could possibly throw the boys off? What if I… She stared at her hoof, an idea forming in her mind. Perfect!
Rarity is confused! She hurt herself in her confusion!
“Why is she slapping herself?” Spike whispered to Sweetie Belle, scratching his head.
Sweetie Belle merely shrugged. “You should see her around Appleja—”
“A-a-and it’s the boys turn!” Rarity interrupted, sweating furiously as she wedged between her two assistants in a hurry for some particular reason.
The Boys used—
“Ugh, screw this!” Spike groaned and thrust his claw into Rarity’s saddlebag. He pulled out his milkshake and took aim. “You came for the milkshakes? Go catch!” With a heave, a ho, and possibly a hernia, Spike threw the milkshake approximately across the entire town. The boys’ eyes traced the trajectory of the milkshake. Calculating the odds of taking two milkshakes from the adventurer’s party, the odds of somepony else finding the tossed milkshake, weighing in the effort involved, and promptly decided to—
The Boys fled from battle!
“Well, that was anti-climatic,” Rarity said with a simple shrug. “I’d assume our battle would have ended more glamorously, but alas, it will remain my fantasy.”
“Oh Rarity,” Sweetie Belle giggled as she nudged Spike. “I’m sure it won’t be your final fantasy.”
