Gossip magazines. Rarity could never get enough of them.
One would imagine having one’s personal diaries published for the entire town to read would make a pony less inclined to read about somepony else’s private rendezvous, embarrassing faux-paus and unflattering incidents. On the other hoof, her line of work all but made keeping up with current affairs – even if it was tawdry – a requirement. After all, paparazzi photographs provided an insight into the latest fashion trends and the stories were a well of information into current and potential clients.
Lastly, her Boutique needed reading material for said clients and she did receive a notable discount on the subscription price. If only the publishing company could get the mailing address correct, she wouldn’t have to wait so long for the latest edition.
“Rarity?” Applejack entered the Boutique, biting on a string wrapped around a bundle of magazines. “I think these are yours. You wouldn’t happen to have Big Mac’s Power Wagons Monthly, do ya?”
“I’m afraid not, dearie,” the shop owner answered, levitating the magazines onto a table. “However, I’m fairly certain all these comics over there belong to Spike.”
“In that case, I can drop those off for you.”
She opened up the first magazine in the pile. “Oh, that’s quite all right. I haven’t seen him in a while and besides, I also want to talk to Twilight about this… what? What? Sweet Celestia, no!”
Applejack reached toward her, “Rarity? What’s going on? You got a case of the shakes or something?”
“This can’t be! Just look at the utter horror,” Rarity spread the pages over Applejack’s face like a hot towel at the Spa. “In all your years, Applejack, have you ever seen such a deplorable display?”
“Um, okay. All I see is Sapphire Shores running out of a restaurant with what appears to be a stallion.”
“Yes, yes, but look at what she’s wearing! It’s one of my dresses, the special one I made for her last week and… oh, I can’t even look at it anymore!”
“Ohhhhh! I see it now!” Applejack pointed at one of the pictures, “There’s a small rip right there. She must have stepped on her dress when—”
“–Small? Small?” She tossed the magazine aside. “It runs halfway up her hind legs, Applejack! To think one of my creations is on these pages for all of Equestria to see and instead of marveling at the restrained use of sequins, they’ll be gawking at such a blatant imperfection! What if ponies think it’s a flaw in the stitching?” She gasped. “What will Sapphire Shores think of me, then? She’ll tell everypony and that’ll be the death kneel for my professional career!”
Applejack raised a perturbed eyebrow.
“This is the end for me, Applejack!” Rarity levitated her red chaise lounger into position. “All my hopes and dreams, ruined! All because–”
Rarity thrust herself onto the couch. On landing, one of the legs cracked and down she went, cushion and all. The backboard split, with one big piece falling on top of the unicorn while smaller pieces scattered across the floor.
“Worm in an apple! Rarity!” Applejack lifted the broken backboard off her fallen friend. “You’re not hurt are you?”
She was but not on the outside. Her stationary chariot, the perfect resting spot for a picnic, a loyal servant to her melodramatic spells, it was nothing more than debris all around her. Even her pillow did not survive, thanks to some splintered wood ripping across the fabric and allowing its feathers to spill.
“Rarity!” She lifted her friend over the lounger’s remains. “Say something, wontcha? Are you hurt?”
“My couch,” she blubbered. “My one-of-a-kind couch. It’s all–” Out came the wails and the monsoon of tears that formed a small lake beneath her. “I didn’t even get a chance to use it at an opera house or a fancy wedding where somepony objects! It’s too soon, Applejack! It’s just too soon!”
Applejack removed her hat and sighed. “Um, I’m sorry for your loss?” She went in for a hug. “It’ll be all right, Sugarcube. You’ll just need to find a replacement.”
Rarity turned off the waterworks. “A replacement? Applejack! You can’t simply replace this wonderful piece of furniture! I purchased it many years ago from an elderly pony that had travelled beyond Equestria to find the most exquisite chairs, tables and hutches! The moment I rested on it, I discovered my one true pairing! There simply isn’t another one like it in the world!”
“I hate to burst your bubble, Rarity, but I think you were spun a tall tale,” Applejack responded, inspecting a tag hanging on the edge of the seat cushion. “From what I see here, this came from Quills and Sofa.”
She retched as though somepony claimed a dress was blue when it was actually green. “That’s incredibly rude, Applejack! Speaking ill of the fallen! Have you no shame at all? My sofa was a marvelous piece of furniture from a faraway land! End of discussion!”
“Yep. Definitely one of ours.” A stallion scoured through the couch’s remains spread across Quills and Sofas carpeted showroom floor. “The Haylegance H6 Comfort Select.”
Incredulous! Ludicrous! Unfathomable! Yet Rarity had trouble questioning a fellow proprietor, especially one that has been a Ponyville staple for as long as she could remember. “Mister Davenport, are you certain that my couch wasn’t a superior version of that particular model? The original source of inspiration? The standard bearer for superior comfort?”
“Afraid not.” He lifted a segment of broken railing. “I was selling this for five ninety nine bits about four years ago. If you don’t believe me, check the tag over there.”
“Told ya,” Applejack chimed in with a nod.
This was Rarity’s perfect opening for a ‘woe is me’ rant ending with a dramatic fall onto a couch. Lied to and she had overpaid for her couch but alas, her faithful cushy companion was now in retirement. “I see. That’s, unfortunate.” Then, a thought had her jump in place. “Why, of course! Mister Davenport, I was quite satisfied with my original couch. I’d like to buy a replacement, please.”
The stallion tugged on his vest, “I’d love to except your model was discontinued two years ago. We’ve had, ahem, quality control problems regarding the type of wood used for the frame.”
“Excuse me?”
“B–but tell you what I can do! I’ll give you a ten percent discount off your next purchase!” He then opened up a decorative box. “And as a special gift, a lovely set of my finest quills!”
Rarity had little use for writing utensils but the box would be a perfect place to store some gems. The most important item on her agenda, however, was finding a worthy successor and she was in the best place in Ponyville. A more miserly pony would head on over to Rich’s Barnyard Bargains and place a beige box with a picture of an unremarkable couch onto the cart. Here, she had an entire floor full of unique pieces of upholstered furniture to choose from and even better, a friend that can provide a neutral second opinion.
“You hear that, Rarity? That’s a mighty nice discount if you ask me,” said Applejack, tilting her Stetson. “See anything you like?”
There was no room for complaints about a wide selection. In fact, she already added a few couches to a mental list as potential replacements for some aging Boutique pieces. Yet her discriminating tastes regarding her new drama couch eliminated at least a quarter of the candidates off the bat: too flashy, wrong shape, too many zeros on the price tag, garish pattern and one with an ornament that would’ve been perfect if she wanted to give herself a heart attack every time she looked at it.
“Well, are you going to try one out?” Applejack urged.
“Patience, Applejack. Patience,” Rarity countered, wagging a discerning hoof. “This is a decision not to be taken lightly. Whatever I choose must fit my every need.” She drifted toward the nearest leather lounger and pretended to faint onto his sleek surface. “Catch me! Be the one that… oooffff!”
Applejack winced. “You okay there?”
Rarity reached for her aching back, “Good grief! What is this material made of? Concrete? This is far too firm for a delicate mare like myself.”
“That is one of our models specifically made for heavy set stallions,” Davenport said, lifting Rarity off the couch. “These over here may be more to your liking. See, this one is imported straight from Prance.”
She had already figured out that last tidbit. The decorative pillows gave away its origin, as did the gold trim. Her eyes adored the shade of purple – bright but not more so than her hair – and the sculpted legs that screamed luxury. If only the price tag didn’t give her major pause but she threw herself in anyways.
“I’d say that’s a perfect match for you, Rarity,” Applejack complimented. “You look mighty comfy there.”
“Hmmm, no. This isn’t it. You see, I sat on something similar to this before.” Rarity pressed down on the cushion, “There’s a lot of give here. You are correct that it’s quite comfortable to sit on today but in a year, it’s going to sag terribly and I’ll need to replace it. If I was an upper class Canterlot pony with the requisite wealth, I would purchase this but I’m not exactly at that level yet.”
Then, she trotted over to a couch enveloped in rich creamy brown leather and made her dramatic fall.
“Ah! Much more durable, if a bit on the firm side. A rather straightforward yet elegant style, I would say. Affordable as well.”
“Then you’ll buy it,” Applejack asked.
She tittered. “Oh, my! Heavens no! This material will be much too stifling in the summer.” Rarity fanned herself, “While I do like to use a paper fan, it’s more to keep up appearances. I want to give the impression that it’s hot but I don’t actually want to be hot.”
Applejack pushed a green sofa into Rarity’s line of sight. “Then go with this! Look here!” She stroked the cushion’s surface, “Breathable and I can guarantee it won’t heat up because we have this same one in our living room.”
Rarity rolled off the leather couch. “You don’t say? Well in that case, that one’s off the list as well.”
The cowpony’s eyelids lowered halfway. “I beg your pardon?”
“I can’t own the same piece of furniture you do. Well, I can but only if I’m not aware of that fact before purchase.”
“Oh, for pete’s sake,” Applejack grumbled under her breath, watching her prissy friend test out another couch.
“What in criminy’s sake is going on here?” Davenport whispered to Applejack. “If she’s trying to get a better deal out of me, I’ll give her an extra five percent discount but that’s my limit. I’ve got a wife and kid to feed, you know.”
“No, it’s not like that at all,” she answered in kind. “It’s Rarity just being Rarity. Best if we take a seat. We might be waiting a while.”
He glanced at the grandfather clock at one of the store’s corners. “I’ll take my chances. Besides, I have to help my customer find whatever makes her happy, no matter how picky they can be.”
As the intricate dust gold dials on the clock inched toward closing time, however, the best Davenport could do is direct the fussy drama queen to the next available option and bear whatever excuse she had not to make a buy. One had an old stallion stench detectable only by her nose, another reminded her of some obscure bad memory from her childhood and his most elegant model in his showroom was too elegant. No couch should overshadow its owner’s presence, she commented.
Finally, five minutes before sunset, Rarity fell silent when she sampled a chaise lounger covered in blue velvet. She even nestled against the pillows and cooed.
“Did I hear what I just hear,” Applejack asked, hopping off a nearby bed. “That sounded like approval to me!”
“I just adore this, Applejack,” replied Rarity. “A little expensive but I dare say it’s more comfortable than my old couch.”
Davenport presented a clipboard with papers and a pen attached. “Then you’ll buy it, ma’am?”
Rarity raised a hoof and smiled wide. “Do you have this in red?”
A few seconds of stunned silence later, he dropped his clipboard – without saying a word – flipped off the lights to his store, and headed out the door.
“Ah, consarn it, Rarity,” Applejack blurted out, struggling to keep her eye twitch in check. “All right! So it’s not in the color that you want! Can’t you just make one little compromise and just buy it already?”
“But I want it to be perfect,” Rarity whined, rolling off her latest rejected piece of furniture. “Just like when I make the perfect dress for my clients.”
“These ain’t dresses, Rarity! What you see is what you get. You’re not going to find exactly what you’re looking for every time.”
“I did last time, Applejack! I did last time.” She walked to what was left of the red drama couch and picked up the tattered remains of its matching pillow. “Then again, that could’ve been lightning striking once. I suppose asking for it to strike again may be too much. Even so, I really loved this couch, Applejack.”
“Rarity?”
The unicorn meandered toward the door. “I’ll talk to Mister Davenport tomorrow about purchasing that blue couch. Thanks for coming with me, Applejack.”
She didn’t deserve any thanks, the cowpony believed. Rarity walked into the night with her head low and there was nothing she could do.
Or maybe there was.
Rarity’s bed was no substitute for her couch. Yet, she would rather nestle under the sheets than venture out and risk running into a dramatic moment and summon something that was no longer there. She did mean what she said yesterday. That inferior blue couch would soon be her replacement. She just needed to find the willpower to leave her Boutique to make it final.
“Ra-rity!” A voice called from outside. “It’s Applejack! I have your new couch here for you!”
She bolted out of her bed and ran to the window. At ground level, Applejack had whatever she brought with her under a sheet. “What’s going on here? I didn’t ask you to buy that couch for me.”
“Just c’mon down and take a gander! You’ll understand!”
After a reluctant sigh, she dragged her tired body down the stairs and outside. “Applejack, if this is Mister Davenport trying to sell me a different couch—”
“—it’s not like that, Rarity, although he did have a part in this. I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised.”
“As much as I appreciate your optimism, I just can’t see how anything could be… w–what?” Standing right in front of her was either an illusion or her red chaise lounger back to its former glorious state. A few drops fell onto the ground beneath her despite nary a rain cloud in the sky. “How is this… did you find a replacement?”
Applejack twirled a hammer. “Nope. I just had to put your old couch back together. Mister Davenport was kind enough to tell me what I needed and gave me a few spare parts. Took a few favors from some ponies I know for some material, a few trips to the dump and pulling an all-nighter but she’s good as new! I even had Twilight put one of her spells on it! You can have an elephant sit on it and she won’t break!” After a brief pause, “But I wouldn’t test that out if I were you.”
By now, twin waterfalls poured out of her eyes but she could care less. She placed her hooves around Applejack and squeezed with all her might. “Oh, thank you, Applejack! You do understand!”
She hugged back, “Well, not completely but I do understand how much this couch means to you. That’s all I needed to know. So, you want to take her for a spin?”
“A, spin?” Her mind clicked. “Oh! Yes, I guess I can… you know what?” Without any drama, she sat down on her restored couch. “I don’t think that’s necessary. This will do just fine.”
“It will? That’s it?” Applejack reeled back, hoof on her forehead. “I spent the whole night fixing this couch, hour after hour and you won’t even test it out? You’re just going to sit there? Why do you do this to me?” She fell back onto the open spot besides Rarity. “Whyyyyyyy, Rarity? Whyyyy?”
If Applejack was trying to elicit a laugh with her cringe-worthy acting, she succeeded beyond her wildest dreams. Maybe Rarity was a big drama queen but at least she had a friend that was willing to do anything to make her happy.
“You know, Applejack. I think that blue couch would suit you perfectly if you ever needed it to faint on, don’t you think?”
“Heh, heh, heh. Nope.”
