Fuck!

by ocalhoun

Rating: mature
Tags: My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Comedy, Rarity, Profanity, Slice of Life
Length: 2118

What would it take to make Rarity drop an F-bomb?

What would it take to make Rarity drop an F-bomb?

Rated mature only for profanity in title.

Published 2015-11-04 23:10:03 UTC
Last updated 2015-11-04 23:10:03 UTC

In which Rarity does a bad thing.

Rarity hummed to herself as she danced across her kitchen floor over to the toaster and dropped a couple slices of bread into it.

She didn't know quite why, but somehow, she felt like this was going to be a good day, one of the best she'd had in a long time. It was just that kind of a feeling, just that kind of a morning – one of those mornings where everything looks just a bit brighter and a bit more colorful, a bit more lovely.

The doorbell rang, jingling out it's sing-song tones.

Now, who could that be? Who knew? Rarity certainly wasn't expecting any guests – Sweetie Belle had gone off to do her final rehearsal for the talent show, and she shouldn't be back until the final show was over, not that she'd ever use the doorbell anyway; she knew she was welcome to come in anytime. But anypony would be welcome on a morning as lovely as today, so she hurried to the front door.

When she flung open the door, it was none other than Feather Stitch.

Rarity gritted her teeth and cursed ... inwardly. “Oh, Feather Stitch,” she said out loud instead, “how lovely of you to come by.”

“Rarity, Rarity, Rarity, I am sooo”–her voice squeaked–”happy to have finally found you at home! You seem to be out so much lately.”

“Oh, well, you know, a business to run, kingdom to save, the usual.” If Rarity had checked the peephole before opening the door, she would have been 'out' today as well.

Feather Stitch smiled wide... too wide, and flared her wings out. “Well, if you insist on knowing...”

“I didn't insist on anything,” Rarity grumbled under her breath, probably too quiet for the other mare to hear.

“...I've developed an entirely new line that I'm sure-sure-sure you're going to simply lo-ove!” She danced in place and primped her too-pink mane.

“I'm terribly sorry, dear, but I cannot. I have a very pressing appointment later today that I cannot miss.”

Feather Stitch waved a hoof at her. “Oh come now, what could possibly be more important than fashion?”

“My little sister's first solo recital in the school's talent show,” Rarity replied, with no small amount of satisfaction at having a true reason to excuse herself from another one of Feather Stitch's interminable fashion shows.

“Oh but that isn't for a couple hours yet! I know because I've a ticket to see my little gem of a daughter perform on the violin in the very same show!”

Rarity had heard Feather Stitch's daughter 'perform' before. It was the usual musical accompaniment to the mare's fashion shows, and it was nearly as squeaky and nerve-grating as Feather Stitch's voice. That would not be a part of the talent show she was looking forward to.

“And showing you my new line couldn't possibly take more than a few minutes,” Feather Stitch continued. “I promise I'll make it quick.”

The last time Rarity had heard that promise – and she had heard it many times – she'd ended up stuck with that irritating pegasus for eight hours, endlessly discussing potential alterations to a mostly potential line that honestly had no potential to begin with. Hackneyed old ideas, put together with less-than-perfect execution with far too much budget invested, and all Feather Stitch could talk about was which shade of red might suit her flawed designs better ... for hours on end. And then, of course, would come the thinly-disguised begging and pleading for Rarity to feature her designs in the boutique, for the exposure they needed to 'really take flight in the imagination of the fashion world', when the only place Rarity wanted to see them take flight to was the scraps bin.

“I couldn't,” Rarity said, “I need to get ready. I haven't even picked out what to wear yet.”

“Oh it would only take a minute...”

And so it went on ... and on ... and on. Feather Stitch just wouldn't give up her vain dreams of becoming Rarity's 'mentor and confidant' in the fashion world. As if there was anything Rarity could learn from her! It was at least an hour and a half before Rarity convinced her to go home, and only then with the vague promise of coming to see her designs 'later'. With any luck, the next monster to attack Ponyville would flatten Feather Stitch's workshop and spare Rarity the chore.

And now, of course, she was running late.

Rarity rushed back into her kitchen. She'd have to get breakfast done with as quickly as possible in order to get her dress ready, so...

The smell hit her immediately. Wisps of black smoke rose from the toaster, staining the cabinets above. Rarity stomped her hoof down and stifled a scream, feeling her pulse pounding in her ears. Of course the toaster didn't pop up as it should. She glanced inside at the two blackened lumps that would have been her breakfast, shook her head, and unplugged the thing with her magic. It would need to be cleaned, but later. There wasn't time for that now.

She settled for a quick-and-easy dose of Sweetie Belle's sugary cereal, quickly pouring herself a bowl of it.

Of course the milk was empty. Why in Equestria would anypony put an empty milk jug back in the refrigerator?

Okay, scratch that. She set the bowl aside and pulled another down from the cabinet. Oatmeal would take longer to prepare, but it was healthier, and she needed to keep her figure after all, if she was going to be anyone in fashion.

The water seemed to take forever to boil as Rarity watched it, hooves tapping and teeth clenched, but finally it was done, and she could mix in the oats, a little butter for flavor, and a few fresh grapes. Lovely, at last.

She glanced at the clock. Already? How was that even possible? She'd have to leave in ten minutes in order to make it to the talent show on time, and she hadn’t even picked out her clothes yet!

She darted upstairs, pulling her bowl and spoon wobblingly along in her magic, and slipped into her wardrobe room. At least her clothing choices were already laid out from last night. Four different dresses she couldn't choose between last night, but she knew that while picking the perfect one for the occasion would take time, any of the four would at least be adequate.

Hastily downing spoonfuls of oatmeal, she lifted the four of them up with her magic, spreading them out and deciding to take a step back and choose the one that looked best from a distance, since Sweetie Belle would be seeing her from a long way up on the stage.

An errant scarf caught her back hoof, and she went down screaming. She hit hard on her back. Oatmeal scattered everywhere.

When she looked around the room, it stole her breath from her. She trembled and struggled to maintain her decorum. No. No, she would not do anything unladylike just because of a little mishap... Or even because of a tragedy of unparalleled magnitude that irrevocably ruined every dress she might have worn to Sweetie Belle's recital.

She looked down at herself. Oatmeal all over her coat and mane as well. Gritting her teeth hard, she managed to prevent an outburst, but just barely. It took a few deep breaths – a lot of deep breaths – but she finally managed to work her way through it. Arriving in high fashion was no longer an option. She wouldn’t have time to find and select a still-clean gown. She'd be late as it was just after getting a fast shower to clean off her own body.

There was no time to waste.

She rushed to the washroom and turned on the taps. “Come on, come on, come on,” she chanted, waiting for the water to heat up agonizingly slowly. “Oh forget it. I don't have time for this!”

Rarity jumped into the still-cold shower. It was enough to make her cry out, and once again she struggled to maintain decorum, even in the most private place in her house. But it did get her clean, and fast.

Drying out her mane and re-styling it cost precious minutes, but it was something that could not be rushed, and she definitely could not allow herself to be seen in public with her mane anything other than perfect.

She glanced at the clock. The talent show had already been in progress for ten minutes! No!

Rushing out her door with her mane still damp, Rarity galloped to the talent show, not caring about how indecorous she might look to anypony who saw her. She had an appointment to make, and she could not be late for it!

Why oh why did the theatre have to be all the way on the other side of town? By the time she reached it, she was winded, but it had only taken a few minutes. Well worth the effort. She didn't even take a moment to catch her breath before going inside.

A gangly colt met her just inside the door. “Ticket please,” he said, barely even looking at her.

Rarity's jaw dropped. The ticket! In her haste to get here on time, she hadn't remembered to bring it at all.

The colt glanced her way. “Ma'am?”

Focus, Rarity! “Oh, I'm terribly sorry,” she said, still panting a little through it, “but I'm afraid I've forgotten to bring mine.”

“Guess you can't get in, then.” The colt went back to a magazine on the little table next to him.

Rarity felt like she was trying to hold in a fiery explosion that wanted to rip out of her. “What? I am Rarity, and Sweetie Belle is my sister. She's performing here today and I must see her, ticket or no! Since when do school talent shows require tickets in the first place?”

“Sorry,” he said without looking up from the book, “I didn't make the rules.”

Trembling and struggling not to explode on the spot, Rarity rushed outside. How was she possibly going to explain this to Sweetie Belle? 'Oh, I'm sorry dear, I missed it because I spilled some oatmeal.' Atrocious! She'd have to run all the way back home, then all the way back here, and then she could finally... She caught a glimpse of something purple flying above. “Twilight! Twilight! You have to help me!” she cried out.

Good friend that she was, Twilight spiraled down to meet her in just a few agonizingly long moments. “Rarity! What's wrong?”

“I must be there for Sweetie Belle when she performs in the school talent show, but I don't have my ticket, and the show is already in progress! Please please please, can you help me?”

Twilight nodded with a cocksure grin. “You bet I can. Hold on...” Her horn began to glow.

Rarity had thought that Twilight would use her royal clout to bully her way past the colt who asked for tickets. That wasn't what happened. Instead, she found herself teleported inside in an instant.

Hooves were stamping in applause as she blinked her eyes and tried to adjust to the low light. She was in the back of the theatre, in the aisle, facing away from the stage. She turned as the applause died down to nothing ... just in time to see Sweetie Belle slip behind the curtain.

“FUCK!” she screamed at the top of her lungs ... right into the now-quiet theatre.

Every single pony in the audience turned to stare at her. More than a few of them were covering their children's ears.

For a long moment, they stared at her, and she stared back. Her face was getting hot, and she knew she must be blushing fiercely. She covered her mouth with a hoof.

Still, the ponies stared. The next act should have been starting by now, but her outburst must have disrupted even that.

She fled. What else was there to do? She ran as fast as she could out through the lobby, straight past the irritating colt, all the way out into the dazzling sunshine.

Twilight was still there. “You're back out already? What happened?”

Rarity just cringed.

Author's Note

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