Manehatten is flooded with... Well, you know.
Coco Pommel was not having a good day, not at all. She put down the telegram and groaned, rubbing her temples and sighing. This was easily the strangest thing she had read, and she needed to process it. She wasn't ready for this.
With a clatter, she got out several pots and pans and began to make her solution to all mental stressors. As she combined familiar ingredients, she began to calm down. It wasn't all bad news, after all. The fragrance of vanilla and white chocolate caused another disturbance down the hall. This one was welcome.
"Coco, are you making what I think you're making?" The sweet voice of Glamour preceeded the appearance of the disheveled yet somehow still stylish unicorn mare. "Ok, rhetorical question." With a soft grin, the second mare continued, "What's the occasion?"
Coco paused, making a face, "Well, Rarity and her little sister will be here on the evening train from Ponyville. But it seems they are leaving under threat of disaster. I'm not sure I understand the situation, but they're always welcome here." She expertly filled two mugs with the rich, hot, thick white liquid, and settled into a comfy chair.
"A disaster?", Glamour queried, concrned for their mutual friend. "I suppose Ponyville is overdue for yet another thousand year old threat of some sort." She frowned as she read the telegram where it sat on the coffee table, nursing her hot, steaming, creamy cup of white chocolate mocha. "I don't understand what this sort of emergency is, but it must be severe indeed."
Coco paused, blowing on her beverage, watcing the bubbles move as she waited for it to cool. "I know! It's as if all the ancient legends are true, and every monster ever imagined stumbles into Ponyville first. At least Ponyville has help this time. I shudder to think of what would have become of Equestria or even the world if not for Rarity and her friends. At least the Manehattan Rose Festival is this week. This means they can enjoy the festivities here. It'll be fine."
The air was thick and heavy, the stage lights turning what would be merely uncomfortable conditions into a hot, dripping, sticky mess. Centered in that mess, Prim Hemline was in her element. The designer was trying to get the models through their routines in spite of the miserable conditions. As mares and stallions struggled and sweated while strutting along the catwalk, she had to applaud their efforts.
Finally, there was a dull thud in the rafters and air, blessedly cool air begain moving in the stagnant expo hall. As relief swept through the assembled ponies, Prim called out, "Right, eveyone! Once more, then we can take a break! And the air conditioners are working again. That's the spirit!"
Just off stage, Glamour could literally feel the relief rippling through the hall, and gave Coco a trooper's smile. "Thank Celestia," she murmured, "I don't think anyone could have handled the show without air conditioning." Several ponies nodded in agreement, trying to imagine the floor of the center full of ponies packed together, the lights and heat and no air circulating. It would have been a disaster.
As the models got prepared for one last rehearsal, Coco continued up and down the line checking that ponies had water and taking care of any last minute work. She heard the thumping sound before feeling the cool air envelop her and taking a deep breath. She had a stack of design changes nearby, and not for the first time that day, she thanked whatever disaster had caused Rarity to visit her. At least they'd get done soon, because she didn't want to pick up her friend as a hot, sticky mess.
Finally, after Prim announced the end of their grueling day, Coco and Glamour said their goodbyes and headed for their apartment and the promise of well-deserved showers. Although Coco invited Prim to meet with everyone for dinner, the other mare had demurred, instead suggesting Coco bring her guests to the show the following day and they could talk. At least things were getting better.
The two mares cantered down the sidewalk, enjoying the sights and the cool of the oncoming evening. Manehattenites were proudly setting up stands in the park Applejack had worked so hard in, and there were more "fuggetaboutits" and hardly any "Hey, I'm walkin' here" type comments as if the city was just now becoming aware that they didn't have to treat each other like dirt. It was incredibly refreshing. Festive bunting was going up everywhere. There were even some sailor ponies who whistled at the pair, and the mares spent the next several blocks teasing each other as to which of them had drawn the attention. Soon, however, the pair reached Manehatten's Grand Central Terminal and began waiting for the train.
"Darlings, thank goodness you could take us in!" Rarity seemed in good spirits, in spite of having fled a disaster with fewer than six bags floating in her magic. Right behind her came Sweetie Belle, who was not having anywhere as much luck with her bags. Thinking fast, Rarity began sweet talking some stallions in uniform and sure enough, the bags were taken care of promptly.
As they walked back to Coco and Glamour's apartment, the older mares chatted about plans for the evening, sleeping arrangements, and the festive atmosphere the city was experiencing. It was a lot to take in, and Sweetie was full of questions. Luckily, she was able to ask Coco and Glamour what was going on in Manehattan.
"So, you see, there's always a festival this time of year, Sweetie Belle. You're lucky, really." Coco smiled down at the filly, even as Rarity and Glamour debated between Chineighs or Istallion for dinner. Coco pointed to the harbor, "By this time tomorrow, there will be a parade. Also, there will be dozens of ships in the harbor - the best of the Royal Equestrian Navy will be here as part of the festivites."
"That's right, ladies," one of the stallions assisting with the baggage said cheerfully. "Tomorrow, this place will be full of handsome seamen!"
Much to everypony's amazement, a fainting couch managed to catch Rarity before she could hit the sidewalk.
Author's Note
Yes. I did a thing.
I Have no Regrets.
