It's what Rarity would have wanted
“Well, it was almost a disaster.”
Rarity put down the newspaper and looked at her friends. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me how many things nearly went wrong,” she exclaimed. “If you’d only unlocked the door I’d have given you all a hoof!”
“Well, we didn’t want to worry you,” Applejack explained. “’sides, you had your hooves full organizing that display window. It took you all day!”
“And we were all working so hard, like with the raccoons!” Fluttershy added softly. “We didn’t want to stress you out.”
“But everything turned out fine!” Pinkie Pie bounced up and down in her seat. “And I got to eat a lot of pancakes! Isn’t that great?”
“Yeah, I’d say we were pretty awesome in the end,” Rainbow Dash agreed. “It just goes to show that when the chips are down we can do anything, right girls?”
“Right!” The others chorused.
“I’m so glad you were all there to help,” Rarity told them. “I can’t express how wonderful it is to have so many good friends I can count on in my hour of need. Now, Rarity 4 U is going to be the most fashionable boutique in all of Manehatten and I owe it all to you—”
The doorbell rang.
“Oh, who could that be?” Rarity stood up and opened the door to her boutique. She didn’t know what she had been expecting, perhaps a mailpony or the Cutie Mark Crusaders or at worst a visit from Sapphire Shores to order a hundred new dresses unannounced. But nothing could have prepared her for the seething mob of ponies queued outside her door.
Rarity stood there, mouth open as nearly a hundred ponies tried to force their way towards her. They were all fighting to be the first to talk to her, and cameras were going off every second as reporter ponies jostled to get close.
“Excuse me, ma’am?” Rarity’s eyes jerked downwards as two aggressive ponies at the front marched up to her. One was wearing sunglasses and a serious expression while her collegue stood impassively by her side. “Are you the owner of Rarity 4 U, the new boutique on Saddle Row?”
“Why yes,” Rarity put on her best smile. “I’m afraid we’re not open right now – and this is Ponyville, so I’m afraid I can’t take any dress orders right—”
“We’re not here about dresses,” the mare snapped. “I’m here representing PETA, Ponies for the Ethical Treatment of Animals. We received an anonymous tip that you’ve got a bunch of raccoons living in your shop, is that correct? According to this report,” and here she brandished the newspaper with the story on the front page, “you’re keeping them in the boutique without any kind of housing or habitat for them to live in. Is this true?”
“W-well yes, but—” Rarity glanced nervously at Fluttershy. “My friend assures me the raccoons are living happily in the boutique, and I’m using them as waiters—”
“Excuse me?” The PETA representative lowered her sunglasses. “You’re employing these animals?”
“Um. That’s correct.”
“Do you have a raccoon trainer’s license?” The mare demanded.
“N-no…”
“What about vaccination shots? Have you had them checked by a veterinarian? If these are wild animals their treatment and care is your responsibility. Who’s looking after them right now, if you’re not in the shop?”
Rarity backed up a few steps in the face of the aggressive questioning. “W-well,” she stammered. “Coco Pommel is watching the shop, but she’s uh, not feeding the raccoons. We’re sort of letting them go through the trash and—”
The PETA representative turned to her college. “We have a situation here. Get somepony down to the boutique and rescue those poor creatures at once!” She snapped. “Bust down the door if you have to and get a camerapony to document this abuse!”
“What?” Rarity yelped in horror. “Wait a minute! You can’t just—”
“Can’t I?” The PETA spokesmare was nose-to-nose with Rarity in an instant. “You think just because you’re a pony and they’re raccoons, you can deny them basic food and care? The instant you decided to employ these poor creatures they were your responsibility. Deny it all you like, but we’re going to expose your neglect of these raccoons and get them to safety. Who knows what kind of trauma you’ve already inflicted on them, making them perform menial tasks in a room full of strange ponies!”
“Look, it’s not like I was making them sew dresses or anything arduous,” Rarity protested. “My friend just had them serving some light refreshments, that’s all!”
“Excuse me? I’d also like to talk about that.” Another pony pushed his way to the front.
“Who are you?” Rarity asked.
“Manehatten Food and Safety Inspector,” the stallion said, flashing a badge at Rarity. “I’ve come here to investigate claims that you fed ponies food products that may have been prepared in the presence of wildlife, violating clause 14b of the Food and Safety Preparation act—”
“Not to mention the Animal Safety laws set down by Celestia herself!” The PETA representative added.
“Do you deny this charge?” The Food Safety Inspector asked.
“No, but I, but—” Rarity was hyperventilating. “I-I can explain!”
“I’m not the one you’ll be explaining anything to. Here,” the inspector handed Rarity a pink slip of paper.
“What’s this?”
“Your court summons. You’re to present yourself at the Manehatten Court of Law this Thursday at 1 PM sharp. Good day.”
The inspector nodded to Rarity and walked off. She stood rooted to the spot, staring at his back in horror but another pony was already pushing through the throng.
“Am I speaking to Ms. Rarity?” He asked. The stallion was dressed in a dark black suit and tie and held a folder full of important-looking legal documents.
“Who’re you?” Rarity asked. “I mean, what do you want?”
“I’m the legal aid to Mr. Stitches, who I believe you’re familiar with.” The stallion said. “He contacted me earlier today about a rather serious matter involving his daughter.”
“Plain Stripes?” Rarity said, taken aback. “Is something wrong? She seemed perfectly happy last night.”
“Yes, well, it’s about that matter that Mr. Stripes has his concerns. Is it true you employed her as an assistant and creative consultant in your shop yesterday?”
“Creative consultant is going a bit far, but—”
“Please Ms. Rarity,” the stallion frowned at her. “Answer the question.”
“Yes, I gave her a job because he told me to do it or he’d raise the rent! Why has Mr. Stripes sent you to talk to me?” Rarity demanded.
The stallion extracted a piece of paper from his folder and handed it to Rarity .“He’s suing you for neglectful treatment.”
“He’s what!?”
“Apparently Miss Plaid Stripes was wearing an outfit made of spoons during the opening of the boutique, is that correct?” The lawyer shook his head. “Those spoons could have poked a pony’s eye out and severely injured Plaid Stripes if she had fallen. Mr. Stripes is asking for at least four thousand bits to settle this matter out of court, or he’ll sue you for putting his child in danger.”
“He’s suing me!?” Rarity cried, outraged. “I’ll sue him right back! He can’t just—”
“I believe it’s in your best interest to settle this quietly, Ms. Rarity,” the stallion interrupted. “Otherwise my client will also have to press charges on the issue of employing Miss Stripes in your boutique.”
“What’s wrong with—”
“You do understand that she is a minor, Ms. Rarity? Your employment of her violates several child labor laws. In fact, they don’t just apply in the city – this is a matter of Equestrian general law. I’ve been told officials will be pursuing this case in the next week regarding your illegal employment of Plaid Stripes – as well as accounts that you’ve been illegally exploiting your own sister, Miss Sweetie Belle as unpaid labor. The Manehatten Times is doing a special report on it later this week.”
Rarity gaped. When her mouth finally started working again she gasped, “but that’s ridiculous! I’m innocent! Let me talk to those ponies and I’ll tell them this is all just a mistake!”
“I believe it’s too late for talk,” the lawyers said, shuffling his papers back into the manilla folders. “I saw several members of the law enforcement over by the schoolhouse interviewing your sister and her friends. I believe they’re trying to take her into protective custody.”
“Protective—”
“Excuse me? Hello?” Another pony in a suit managed to trip a few other ponies and scramble to the front of the pack. “I’m Class Action—”
“Another lawyer?”
“Yes, and I’m here representing your neighbors on Saddle Row.” Class Action readjusted his tie and pulled out a piece of paper which he handed to Rarity. She grabbed it and scanned the page quickly.
“A noise complaint!?” She stared at Class Action incredulously. “But that wasn’t me! That was DJPon3—I mean, Vinyl Scratch! She’s the one who made that racket, go bother her!”
Class Action cleared his throat. “Not exactly. You see, Ms. Scratch was perfectly licensed to play her music during the day in her rented space. However, you hired her to play music during the designated quiet hours of the day. That means her actions are your responsibility.”
“WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA—”
“Keep it down! This is a noise-free zone!” Class Action glared at Rarity. “Any more outbursts and my clients will be forced to take this matter to court. Good day.”
He walked away. Rarity stood frozen in her doorway as Pinkie tried to merge with the couch behind her.
“Hey! Hey you!” An angry pony pushed to the front of the crowd. “You’re the one who employed all those ponies in that boutique of yours, aren’t you?”
“Yes, so what?” Rarity demanded. “That’s perfectly legal! There’s nothing wrong with me hiring three ponies to manage my boutique!”
“Wrong!” The mare said grimly. “I’m part of the Fashion Worker’s Union, and I was told you made them race to see who’d get the job!”
“Y-yes, I do recall one of my friends doing—what’s the problem with that?”
“The problem,” the mare said sarcastically, “is the one of those ponies you told to run around has osteoporosis! Her bones are far too fragile for that kind of exercise! How dare you, miss!”
Out of the corner of her eye Rarity saw Rainbow Dash slowly shrinking in her seat. “I’m so terribly sorry,” she said to the union worker. “I had no idea, and I’ll do everything I can to make things right.”
“Too late for that!” The mare snorted. “Your treatment of our workers is absolutely unacceptable! We’re boycotting your boutique, and you’ll find no pony will work for someone with shady business practices like yours!”
“Wait! What!?” Rarity cried out in horror. “Please, wait!”
But the other mare just turned and stomped off. And before Rarity could move another step another pony had taken her place.
“Uh, hi Rarity. Is…this a bad time?”
Rarity stared at Coco Pommel. “Coco? What are you mad about?”
“Oh, nothing.” Coco stammered. “I’m not angry at you, I uh, I just had a few problems. I was trying to organize the boutique, and I had uh, questions about your layout.”
Rarity’s head turned slowly and Twilight flinched as the unicorn’s eyes bored holes into her head. “What’s the problem?” Rarity asked as she stared at her friend.
“Um. I wasn’t sure if this was your preferred organization method so I didn’t want to mess things up, but uh,” Coco Pommel shifted nervously. “I can’t figure out where any of the dresses go.”
“What?” Twilight demanded. “I organized them perfectly! Everything's organized by style, cross referenced by size and reverse indexed by fabric! It’s the most efficient sorting system possible!”
"Yes, but..." Coco Pommel spread her hooves helplessly. "I don't understand library organization systems! I mean, I understand ordering things by style, but how do you crossreference dresses? And since it's all reverse-indexed I keep getting turned around! I nearly starved to death trying to find my way out of the hats aisle!"
Rarity stared at Twilight for a second and then looked at Coco. The other unicorn flinched at the look in Rarity’s eyes.
“I believe it would be best if you reorganized the dresses yourself, Coco.” Rarity said slowly and carefully. “Maybe by an easier standard? Like color? And then why don’t you take the day off.”
Coco Pommel nodded and retreated hastily rather than look at Rarity’s expression. At this, the other ponies behind her surged forwards, fighting to get to Rarity.
“Ms. Rarity, how do you explain these latest—”
“All these allegations of abuse, any truth to—”
“The public deserves to know! Princess Celestia—”
“A statement, please! Is it true—”
Rarity slammed the door shut and turned to face her friends. All five shrank back in their seats as she looked at them.
Rarity took several deep breaths. In. Out. In. Out. She had to be calm. She opened her mouth—
And the door burst open. Rarity turned and stared as the delicate wood broke and collapsed under the strain of countless ponies trying to force their way into her shop. And racing ahead of the others…
“Hey Rarity!” A familiar pony waved her hoof and bounded towards her. “I’tsh me! Plaid Stripesh!”
A vein was throbbing in Rarity’s temple. “Plaid. This really isn’t a good time. Can you please go away and tell your father not to sue me—”
“I’ve got great newsh!” Plaid Stripes said, ignoring Rarity. “Turns out my idea, you know, the one about glowing teeth? It’s a huge hit! Everypony in Canterlot is wearing my glow-in-the-dark teeth! Itsh a fashion revolution!”
Rarity gaped at Plaid Stripes. “What!? Who in their right mind would ever think that was a good—”
“It was Princess Luna’s idea! She loves them! Everyone’s asking for a pair! I’m rich! Isn’t that great? Now all I have to do is make my spoon-clothes popular! Want to put it in your shop? Rarity? Rarity?”
Rarity’s eyes were rolled up in the back of her head so only the whites were showing. Twilight, Applejack, Pinkie Pie, and Rainbow Dash ducked or hid behind the couch. Fluttershy had already locked herself in the bathroom.
Rarity’s screaming echoed throughout Ponyville. The fashionista collapsed in a puddle of her own tears as everypony stared at her.
Plaid Stripes nudged Rarity with one hoof. The fashionista looked up, makeup running down her face.
“Spoon?” Plaid Stripes said with a smile. “I’ve got lotsh.”
“There it is again!” Silver Spoon looked around frantically. “I can feel it!”
“I told you Silver Spoon, it’s just your imagination.” Diamond Tiara patted Silver Spoon on the shoulder. “Come on. Let’s go say goodbye to Sweetie Belle before they take her away.”
“No, I can feel my Cutie Mark telling me I’m needed somewhere!” Silver Spoon pointed at her spoon Cutie Mark, which was flashing. “It’s my destiny!”
“If you say so.” Diamond Tiara watched the escort of Wonderbolts surrounding Sweetie Belle as the young filly chattered away to a grim-looking stallion writing furiously on a notepad. “Who’s that pony with the notepad?”
Silver Spoon glanced distractedly at him. “Oh, his name is Buried Lede. He’s the pony who broke the story of Rarity’s new boutique.”
“That’s so nice,” Diamond Tiara commented. “I hope she’s properly grateful about all of that.”
“Yeah,” Silver Spoon said. “It’s also done a lot for Ponyville! Did you know there’s a new store opening up next to Rarity’s boutique in Ponyville?”
“Ooh, what’s its name?”
“Stinky Bottom’s Discount Hat Emporium, I think.”