The Horrible existance of Randolph P. Fiddlebottom
Everything about life is terrible
The most wonderful smell in the world filled the house as Diamond Tiara stepped into her home with Silver Spoon eagerly tagging along behind. She groaned, dropping her bags down against the floor, motioning for Silver Spoon to do the same. It had been a long day. Fridays always seemed to drag by extra slowly, and as always they were simultaneously the best and worst day of the week. Every second the clocked ticked away till three pm lasted for a century, which mean Silver Spoon sleeping over would never come.
After two forevers, and several eternities, the clock eventually, lazily turned to three, soaking the duo in the sweet release of academic freedom. With school out of the way, the two of them could finally start planning for the Fall Ball party they were planning to have, but Diamond knew that would have to wait the moment she set foot in the door. That smell...That wonderful, mouth watering, heart stopping smell that kissed her nose upon reaching her home. A smell that could only be one thing; the most delicious thing in the whole entire world...
Cookies!
Without a word, Diamond and Silver shared a sharp glance, before both of the little fillies went sprinting into the kitchen. There, among the pots and pans, and row after row of cabinets, stood Randolph P. Fiddlebottom, butler to Diamond Tiara's household, and by all accounts, quite possibly the most miserable pony in the world. He gave a wary sigh the moment Diamond and her friend shot into the room and placed the freshly baked batch of cookies on the counter top.
"Reginald! One plate of cookies and a tall glass of milk for me and Silver! Make it snappy, We've had a long day," Diamond barked, climbing up onto a chair at the table. Silver spoon followed suite, but frowned when Diamond's requested plate of cookies failed to materialize from Randolph.
"Randolph, Miss Tiara," Corrected Randolph, " and I'm afraid your mother has strictly forbidden me from giving you any cookies until after dinner, " Stupid ole' Randolph McButtface said with a stuffy sigh. Diamond stared at Randolph. Randolph dared stare back at the young mistress, who jeered in his direction. Things were going to get worse today before they got better, the little troglodyte would make sure of it. Diamond narrowed her eyes, turning about in her chair where she sat and peered at Randolph with a cold glare.
"...I'm sorry, I think I misheard you. Cookies. Now. Glass. Milk. Table. This isn't difficult. Chop chop, Riprolph," Diamond snapped, only to receive another world weary sigh.
"I'm afraid your mother trumps your orders, Miss Tiara. I simply can't go against her word," the servant whined with a whiny whine. Diamond drew in a deep breath. Things were about to get very loud- but that's when Silver Spoon stood up on her chair, pressing her fore hooves against the counter top and looking up at Randolph sweetly behind those cute geeky glasses of hers.
"Mister Randolph. May I have a cookie, please? Did Diamond's mom say I can't have one?" She asked innocently. Randolph groaned. The sneaky little she-devils. He already knew where this was going. God, how he hated this job. And pretty much everything else for that matter.
"No. I suppose she did not say you could not have one, Miss Spoon, " Randolph sighed. Silver Spoon's grin grew wider and wider still. Randolph hated children. Really, truly he did. He hated these children most of all.
"Right, she only said you weren't allowed to give Diamond Tiara any. I understand. Tough luck, Diamond," Silver Spoon exclaimed, as Randolph handed her a chocolate chip cookie. Silver Spoon beamed brightly and made a very dramatic show of handing it over to Diamond Tiara who immediately began nibbling the rounded confectionery.
"Mister Randolph, I seem to have lost my cookie, may I have another please?" Silver Spoon beamed with her rancid, horrible, silvery smile. Randolph glared. Damn it all the Tartarus, these children would be the death of him.
"Your family should have been lawyers, not jewelry designers, "The butler grumbled, handing the guest another chocolate chip delight. This was another pay cut for sure.
"Dad's a laywer. Mom does the jewelry. Thank you, Randolph," said Silver Spoon brightly. Randolph sighed, watching the two fill chubby little cheeks with deliciously warm, gooey cookies. Good lord how he loathed these children.
"You know, Randolph, Mmmph, I'm gonna destroy you. I mean, what kind of servant directly disobeys orders? I shall suggest mother give you a firm caning when she returns. " Diamond announced casually as Randolph fetched her a glass of milk from the fridge. The butler groaned another tired-of-my-miserable-life groan and nodded his head diligently.
"I'm sure that you will, young mistress. Is there anything else? Perhaps find some sand to rub into my eyes, or " he sighed. Diamond and Silverspoon exchanged glances, before Diamond slapped a hoof on the counter top.
"We are bored! Tell us a joke, Randolph!" Diamond Tiara demanded. Randolph stared into the distance.
Don'tsaymylifedon'tsaymylifedon'tsaymylifedon'tsaymylife
"Err, why did the pig cro-" He began before Diamond gave a snarl.
"Bored now! Randolph, I have a new game! It's called "Drink whats under the sink." See, you'll drink whatever it is we find under the sink, and then me and Silver Spoon try to guess what color your face will turn." Diamond explained. Randolph stared. Diamond stared back.
"Perhaps the young mistress would enjoy a different game. Perhaps one that doesn't lead down the road of a psychopath in the future. What little chance there is of that not happening, I'm not sure, but we should at least try. How about a game of checkers?" Randolph asked instead, rolling his eyes once again. Diamond Tiara scowled.
"Boring! I'm going out with Silver Spoon to throw eggs at poor kids. When I get back, you had better have drunk at least one bottle of something under the sink, understand?" Diamond snarled, turning sharply on her hooves with a nod to Silver Spoon. Randolph simply sighed. Everything was misery.