And Such Great Names as These
The door opened with a cautious creak, revealing a middle-aged man in an open-necked shirt and jeans. Well, that was a definite step up: the first guy on the street who hadn’t ignored her knock completely, slammed the door in her face or threatened to set the dog – or, on one occasion, the hyena – on her. Sunset blinked the drizzle out of her eyes, pulled her jacket straighter across her shoulders and turned on her brightest, most winning smile.
“Good afternoon, sir. May I ask who I’m speaking to?”
The man shrugged. “You can ask. I don’t see why I should tell you, though.”
Okay, maybe it wasn’t that much of a step up. “You may of course decline to answer, sir.” She sighed inwardly. Three years out of school and it never seemed to get any easier.
The man nodded. Still, that was all he did. Progress. Sunset reached for her stupid electronic pad and stabbed at the “Declined to answer” button. Nothing happened. She tried again. And once more. At this third attempt, the device responded and “DEC” appeared in the relevant box.
As good a name as any, she mused.
“My name is Sunset Shimmer, and the company I represent is carrying out some market research in your area. We’d like to offer you the chance to join an exclusive free trial of an exciting new range of cak—”
“Hey, hang on a minute,” interrupted Dec, holding up a fleshy hand. “What did you say your name was?”
“Uh, Sunset Shimmer.”
The man looked suddenly awkward. “Ah,” he said, then went silent. He began fidgeting with his stubbly beard and looking everywhere but at his caller, whose smile was beginning to flicker a little.
“I’m sorry?” she said.
“Um... oh dear, this all is a bit embarrassing,” said Dec, flushing a startling shade of carmine. “You see, I’m really not into that kind of thing at all. I don’t know how you got my address, miss, but... look, this just isn’t something I’m going to be interested in. Probably best if I make that clear right now and then we can both save ourselves from wasting a lot of time.”
Sunset frowned. “I’m sorry?” she repeated.
Cakes. Why did it have to be cakes?
The householder’s fluster grew. “Well, you know,” he said, waving his hand as though to ward off evil thoughts, “I’m not at all into... into that... kind of stuff.” He closed his eyes and took a couple of slightly ragged breaths. “My wife doesn’t believe me when I tell her that – she says every man is – but it’s the honest truth. She’s the only woman I’ve ever looked at like... well... you know. Not that I’m saying you’re not attractive,” he added hurriedly. “Your hair, it’s very striking. Um, in a good way! I mean, I’m sure you’re very popular.”
“Are you coming on to me?” snapped Sunset, her eyes narrowing.
Dec jerked back as though he’d been slapped. “No!” he squeaked. “Of course not! I... I... you can’t be more than half my age! I’m a happily married man of forty! Why would I have a... a burning desire for a girl like you?”
Sunset just about resisted the burning desire to clock Dec in the mouth. She wished she still had the ability to buck.
“It’s just that... oh, never mind. I’m sorry, that was out of line, I guess. I honestly didn’t think I’d offend someone in your line of work, but I suppose I was being pretty stupid.”
Sunset was utterly bemused. “What are you talking about?”
“Well, you know... it’s your name. It sounds like... well, I kind of thought it was—”
“Nice? Fitting? Alliterative?”
“—one of those names.”
“One of those names?” echoed Sunset, floundering a bit.
Dec ran his tongue along his upper teeth. “Well, you know... ‘Sunset Shimmer’ – it’s kind of... what girls are called in the, um, industry.”
“The industry.” Sunset raised an eyebrow.
“You know, the, uh—” the man gave a sickly grin “—specialist movie industry. But, like I said, if you don’t want to talk about it, that’s cool. I understand. It must be pretty weird sometimes, making a living like that. Though please don’t think I’m judging here! Whatever makes you happy, I guess.”
“Are you finished?”
Dec nodded. “Yeah.” He sagged like a half-empty sack of potatoes. “But I do have another question for you, if that’s okay.”
“Oh?”
“Who exactly is this ‘market research’ for, anyway?”
Ah, this was easier – real first-day-of-training stuff. Sunset felt a second wind begin gather itself behind her. Not much more than a light breeze, but it was there. Back to the script.
“I’m sorry, sir, I’m not able to divulge confidential information. It would defeat the object of a blind testing and be most unprofessional.”
Dec raised his head again and gave Sunset a flat look.
Oh-oh.
“Oh, just listen to yourself!” he said. “What are you, some two-bit secret agent?” He twisted his mouth into a sneer and went on in a dreadful attempt at Sunset’s accent. “Oh no, that’s classified. Top secret. Imagine if the enemy got hold of such terrible information – such unprofessional behaviour could spell the end of the world as we know it!”
Sunset pursed her lips and thought about the hours she’d spent trudging and splashing through the rain-filled streets. She thought about the endless, pointless calls to the office, and about the way her boss had got such a bee in his bonnet about ‘reaching under-served areas of Canterlot’ that he’d hauled her right off her most productive round. She thought about the weekly target meetings. She thought about the Confectioner's Code of Conduct.
She stopped thinking about the Confectioner's Code of Conduct.
“Well, sir, this is not to go any further, if you understand me?”
“Oh, of course not.” Dec’s sneer had vanished almost at once. He was even smiling now.
“I work for the Lyra Heartstrings Company,” said Sunset.
The man stared at her for a moment, then broke suddenly into a wild, braying laughter. He reached out to steady himself on the doorframe as his whole body shook with mirth. Sunset’s eyes darted around as she considered whether it really was now time to make a break for it.
“Lyra... Heartstrings?” gasped Dec between snorts. “Oh, this is too much.”
Sunset had had enough. “Look, sir, are you interested in participating in this opportunity or not? I have plenty of other customers interested in what I’m offering.”
Dec’s eyes bulged; Sunset, at the end of her tether, couldn’t understand why. It was a complete lie, after all. She made to turn away, but was stopped by the householder’s voice.
“Okay,” he said. “Okay.” He looked hurriedly over his shoulder. “Let’s get this done. This is all free and without obligation, right?”
“Absolutely.”
Final straight! thought Sunset.
“Look, this is me.” Dec extracted a stubby pencil and a small piece of white card from his jeans pocket and scribbled down a name, then handed it to Sunset. “But you can’t send it here.”
Damn. Water jump.
“Oh?”
The man glanced over his shoulder again and hissed, “I don’t want her to see it. Can’t you, I don’t know, leave it under a rock in the park or something?”
“Of course not. We have to know that the samples have reached the person who’s agreed to take them.” She gestured at the card. “Otherwise, anyone could get hold of them. Would you want that?”
“Yeah... I guess not,” said the man, with considerable reluctance.
“If it will put your mind at rest, I can assure you of our absolute discretion in the matter.” No, that was too formal. Sunset changed tack. “In fact, we can leave your name right off the address label. We’ll call you John Doe or something. Or... Dec – how about that?” She would have added a conspiratorial wink, but “burning desire” still rankled a bit. There were limits.
Now it was her new customer’s turn to look confused.
“You will?”
Sunset decided it was time to bring the winning smile back at full power. She pulled her jacket back over her shoulders and treated Dec to what she hoped was a look of openness, honesty and absolute trustworthiness.
“You have my word, Mr Bucking.”
Author's Note
Blame the Brunching Shuttlecocks.
