A Capper Is Fine Too

by shortskirtsandexplosions

Rating: teen
Tags: Capper, My Little Pony: The Movie, Slice of Life, Comedy, Rarity
Length: 7776

Capper is invited to Ponyville to celebrate Hearth's Warming. It's a delightful holiday party for sure, but the suave Abyssinian gentlefeline can't help but think of one thing: Where's that fabulous fashionista with the purple mane?

Capper is invited to Ponyville to celebrate Hearth's Warming. It's a delightful holiday party for sure, but the suave Abyssinian gentlefeline can't help but think of one thing: Where's that fabulous fashionista with the purple mane?

Written for Nailah via Petrichord's 2017 Jinglemas gift-fic exchange event.

Published 2017-12-29 06:50:07 UTC
Last updated 2017-12-29 06:50:07 UTC

Capping Off the Holidays

Capper's eyes briefly shimmered like turquoise as he glided past the spotlight—as if on ice.

"And so...!"

A charming glint of his fangs, a twitch of his whiskers, and he raised two nimble paws before the magical projection, conjuring a pair of dynamic shadow puppets against a crystalline wall.

"...Prince Stonepride of Panthera and Valkyrie Dewclaw of the Eaglescythe Guard sprinted gallantly up the carved steps of obsidian..."

A feline silhouette "ran" on all fours, accompanied by an avian figure carried aloft on shadowed wings.

"...until—at long last—they reached the Onyx Mountain Lair of the dreaded Emperor of Wyverns!"

Equine gasps lit the chilly air as a reptilian shadow appeared against the wall, undulating with serrated jaws.

"Stonepride and Dewclaw wasted no time with announcin' themselves." The feline figure reformed, swinging a curved sword. "'You scaly coward!' Stonepride shouted, his mane billowin' somethin' fierce. 'You shall answer for your slaughter of the Abyssinian catfolk!'" The avian figure took center-stage in the spotlight, brandishing a claw-shaped spear. "'And the slain Valkyries of Hawk's Rest shall be avenged!' shouted Dewclaw in the same righteous cadence."

With a flick of his tail, Capper knocked a lampshade off its perch and planted it on the shoulder of his burgundy coat. Keeping his bright eyes on the spotlight, he spoke sideways into the improvisational bullhorn. His paws recreated a draconian silhouette befitting the reverberating voice.

"'Mwaaaaaaaaahaaaarggggh! Foolish mortals!' roared the Wyvern Emperor, as melodramatic warmongerin' Wyvern Emperors were wont to do. 'Suffer in mourning for your dead friends! What I've accomplished cannot be undone!'"

Capper's paws whipped around in a blur, and suddenly the avian figure was back, jabbing with its spear.

"'Nor will anyone ever be able to unspill your entrails!' shouted Dewclaw, infused with the fury of the night. Then—with a sky-splittin' Valkyrie shriek—she pounced on the Emperor of Wyverns first. The beastly motha would've ripped her in half right then and there—hadn't the crafty and opportunistic Prince Stonepride crept around on silent catfeet and pinned the nasty Emperor's tail to the ground with his sword when he was busy lookin' at the eagle warrior. 'Your evil reign ends tonight, suckah!' shouted Stonepride... or... y'know... somethin' to that extent. This is a modern translation, ya dig? Ahem..."

Capper licked his chops, then nimbly stuck his tail into the spotlight while his paws wriggled on either side of them. This produced a remarkably convincing portrayal of two flanking figures stabbing violently into a serpentine creature's abdomen.

"Together, Stonepride and Dewclaw brought an unsavory end to the wicked Wyvern Patriarch. And—believe me, y'all—it sure as Tartarus wasn't pretty. 'Aaaaaaaaargggh! Why is it takin' so long for me to be fully eviscerated!' the Emperor of Wyverns whimpered like a little sissy baby. 'I swear! Y'all've been rippin' my intestines out one by one for at least seven whole hours now! Who even has the stamina to torture someone so hardcore?! Much less the torturee?! I'd go to the library and read up on it, except I can't read! Also I'm being disemboweled!' Which—when ya thank about it—ain't a very dignified way to die. That's more or less the reason why present-day Wyverns are nearly extinct by now. With that in their collective memory, they ain't fixin' to repopulate the Onyx Reaches anytime soon, ya feel me? So... anyways..."

At long last, the tail fell out of the spotlight like a wet corpse. The avian and feline figures "dropped" their weapons and came together in a shadowy embrace.

"The Emperor of Wyverns was no more; Stonepride and Dewclaw were victorious. After all they had lost in avengin' their respective nations, they realized they had gained somethin' far more precious—undyin' love and respect for one another. They eloped to the Humid Hills—beyond the Steam Peaks—and there they made sweet heroic love to each other from dusk 'til dawn for over a decade."

Capper ducked out of the spotlight, rolled forward, and stood back up—striking a devil-may-care pose in the center of the Friendship Castle's crystalline lobby.

"And that's how the race of griffins were born, y'all!" the Abyssinian visitor said with a wink and a whiskery smirk.

At long last, Starlight Glimmer switched off her illumination spell. As the spotlight against the wall dimmed, the overhead lights switched back on, revealing a room full of Ponvyilleans surrounded by holly, tinsel, and festive ribbons. Equines in toasty-warm winter-wear cheered and clapped their hooves against the floor of the place. The Castle resonated with mirth and applause, causing the ornaments dangling from the large Hearth's Warming Tree in the center to shake on the flouncing branches.

"Wooohooo!" Pinkie Pie pumped a hoof in the air. "Go Stonepride and Dewclaw!" She waggled her fuchsia eyebrows. "Hubba hubba!" This was followed by the mother of all giggle-snorts.

"Whew-wee!" Applejack smiled, cradling a mug of nutmeg in her sweatered fetlocks. "Talk about a real whizzbanger of a story!"

"You can say that again!" Rainbow Dash's voice cracked. She had spent the last two minutes of the story trying to sneak a shake or two of the presents beneath the tree. Now—with more than a few eyes flicking her way—she dropped the packages to the ground and hovered with her hooves dangling innocently behind her flank. "Uhhhh... I-I really liked the part when they stormed the Wyvern Emperor's lair and killed him!"

"Uhm... wasn't that the entire story, Rainbow?" Fluttershy breathed.

"Er... yes..." Rainbow Dash blushed, rubbing the back of her head as she avoided everypony's gaze. "...and... it was... awesome...?" She pretended to be interested in something across the room. "Holy crud! Fruitcake!" Swooooosh! She was gone in a blur.

"Woohooo!" Scootaloo hopped in place beside her two closest friends. "Now that's what I call a Hearth's Warming story!"

"But..." Sweetie Belle's muzzle scrunched. "...what does it have to do with Hearth's Warming?"

"Yeah, Mister Capper!" Apple Bloom took a few curious steps towards the Abyssinian guest. "I thought Twilight had asked you to give yer culture's version of a Hearth's Warming story!"

"Hmmm?" Capper looked down at the three foals, his turquoise eyeslits blinking. "Oh. Uhhhh..." He tickled a whisker or two with his claw. "Did... I... forget to mention that they was all wearin' red-and-green turtlenecks?"

Silence.

"Oh!" Scootaloo suddenly piped up, grinning. "I get it! To soak up all the blood!"

"Woohoo!"

"Cool!"

"Yes..." Twilight Sparkle trotted up towards the center of the group, putting on her best smile. "...that was certainly a very... ahem... zesty story..."

"Are you kidding?!" Sweetie Belle's voice cracked through a heavenly new octave as she performed a giddy leap. "It was downright ziggurat!"

"Yer a dictionary, not a thesaurus," Apple Bloom droned at her.

"Still..." Scootaloo smirked devilishly. "...it sure as heck beats the same old boring re-read of A Hearth's Warming Tale that Twilight makes us listen to every year!"

"Mmmff-hrmmmmf!" Rainbow Dash whizzed by, her muzzle full of fruitcake. "Yuff damff riffgh, squirff!"

Gathered ponies laughed and slapped the ground uproariously.

Twilight Sparkle glanced towards the ceiling, jaw clenched tight. "Mrmmmm..."

"Well, the Great and Powerful Trixie gives it four Shiny Sorceress Hats out of five!" Trixie stated, trotting up. "Although I'm surprised Twilight let you tell it."

"And why's that?" Capper asked, one cat ear twitching curiously.

"Well..." Trixie tossed her mane, eyes closing shut. "Per usual the Princess of Predictability expects all stories told on Hearth's Warming Eve to have a 'very special moral' or 'friendship lesson' that's supposed to stick in one's fuzzy head foreverafter."

"Ain't it obvious?" Capper shrugged with casual swagger. "The lesson is to find yerself a friend whom you can crush on so hard y'all give birth to an entirely new civilization!"

"Ha-Ha-Ha!" Starlight leaned in, gesturing with her hoof. "Okaaaaaay! Hey, kiddies! How about that gift exchange, huh?"

Like clockwork, the foals scampered off, joining a gathering crowd of ponies at the base of the enormous tree.

"In the meantime," Starlight continued. "Spike should be coming back with a fresh batch of his enormously popular Surprise Gem Cookies! So everypony prepare to dig in! There's plenty of milk at the refreshment table too!" She turned to see Trixie smiling prolongedly at her. Starlight did a double-take, then slowly... awkwardly pushed Trixie away. Keeping a lingering gaze on the grinning showmare, Starlight trotted over towards Capper. Now that story time had completely ended, the ponies attending the party had spread apart into various talkative gaggles while a distant record player filled the room with ambient holiday muzak. "Sooooooo... Capper..."

"Yuh huh..." Capper's attention turned to a dangling bit of tinsel hanging from the edge of a crystalline staircase overhead.

"I have to say..." Starlight Glimmer smiled. "...it's really nice having you visit. I heard so much about what you did to help Twilight and my other friends during the Storm King's visit."

"Mmmhmmm..." Capper's eyeslits narrowed as he raised a claw and batted repeatedly at the tinsel. "Dayum straight."

"After all, they mean so much to me..." Starlight fidgeted slightly where she stood, pawing the ground with a briefly melancholic expression. "...and sometimes I lie awake at night, wondering how horrible my life would be if anything truly horrible happened to them."

"Truly... horrible..." Capper licked his whiskers as he slapped and pawed the dangling material harder. "Got it."

Starlight blinked at him. "... ... ...are you having fun, Capper?"

"Hmm? What?" He looked down at the little pastel unicorn. "Oh! Uh... sure thing, Twilight."

"It's Starlight."

"Thing is, Sunlight..." Capper rubbed the back of his neck while his ears folded back pensively. "I was kinda hopin' I might... y'know... run into a certain somepony..." His turquoise eyes swept the festive scene as he let loose a lethargic sigh. "...but I guess somethin' so traditionally plebeian ain't exactly befittin' her style of refined elegance."

"Who?" Starlight cocked her head aside. "You mean Rarity?"

Capper recoiled slightly, grasping at the air with both paws. "Who said a peep 'bout Rarity?! I ain't—"

Starlight giggled. "It's okay, Capper. Honestly, I was expecting her to be here too. But... unfortunately... she's going to be detained for a while."

His whiskers twitched. "Oh yeah?"

"She explained it to us all a week before you arrived here." Starlight waved a hoof. "Something to do with having to play 'hostess' to a bunch of visiting relatives."

"No kiddin'?"

"Yes. You see, in Equestrian culture, family oftentimes comes before friends. So—while we're all sad that she can't be with us until later—we all understand that she's got prior commitments to deal with."

"Uh huh..." Capper rocked back and forth on his lower paw pads. "Jusssssssst... for how long, ya suppose?"

Starlight shrugged. "She made it sound like she won't be able to show up until the last hour of Twilight's Hearth's Warming Eve party." Her eyes narrowed. "Why? Did you need to see her for something?"

"Oh..." The feline gentlecat threw a nervous glance towards the far end of the room—where a dapper top hat lay on a lush easy-chair, next to a neatly-folded cape. "...no reason."

"Well..." Starlight Glimmer looked all around, then leaned towards the feline guest. "There's no rule in Equestrian tradition that says you can't poke your head in and say a friendly 'hello'."

Just like that, Capper's fuzzy ears immediately perked up. "Whoah—for reals?"

"Yeah! Around here, it's called 'wassailing.'" Starlight giggled. "Just be sure to bring a mug of cider and prepare to sing a lot. It'll make for a good excuse."

"Just like that, huh?"

"Yeah! You can find Rarity's party at her place: Carousel Boutique. It's a big round glitzy building on the east end of town. You can't miss it. And... between you and me..." Starlight winked. "...I think Rarity will be absolutely relieved to see a friendly face right about now."

Capper's tail flicked and flicked some more. "Well...!" He practically cartwheeled across the lobby, yanked a tankard from a berry-coated mare's forelimbs, and skidded nimbly towards the easy-chair. "...it's been a lovely Hump's Whimpering Eve, y'all!" With a twirl of his tail, he slapped his top hat on and whipped his cape over his figure twice as quickly. "But I've got some Whoopassin' to do!"

"Wassailing!" Starlight corrected.

"That too!" Capper bowed low, careful not to spill the contents of the tankard. "Thanks a million, Spermlight! I'll be sure to tell the Fair Lady Rarity that ya sent me!" And with a flicker of sandstone fur, he vanished out the front Castle Gates and into wintry night.

"Hoooooooo boy..." Starlight nervously waved after his shadow, teeth showing beneath a crooked grin. "...won't she be grateful."

At that precise moment, Twilight Sparkle trotted boldly out into the center of the room, levitating an old dusty book. "Ah-ah-ahem!" With the use of magic, she projected her voice across the festive chamber. "Come on, everypony! It's time for the most magical moment of Hearth's Warming Eve!" She smiled wide. "A traditional reading of A Hearth's Warming Tale!"

The entire Castle echoed with prolonged groans.

The adorable little town of Ponyville was dusted liberally with a fine layer of powdery snow. Between flickering electric lights, smoldering chimneys, and candle-lit windows of frosted storefronts, the place couldn't possibly look any more like a Thomas Kencolt painting. Stars twinkled between gray clouds, casting a luminescent blue sheen against the ivory streets and pale avenues.

Capper strolled gallantly towards the east end, cape billowing in the nippy breeze. Snowflakes drifted past his furry face, clinging to a whisker or two. He shook them off with nary a care, smiling towards the stout rooftops belonging to tiny horses in a tiny town with tiny cares. In the distance, carolers huddled under gas lamps, singing merrily in rhythmic pony cadence. The feline stranger tipped his top hat at them in mid-stride, and he was delighted that they didn't so much as flinch at his towering appearance.

The residents of Equestria's heartland were remarkably graceful, accepting, and inviting. All of these were qualities that Capper long-assumed had vanished from the world. Such was something a life spent scraping for survival in Klugetown had thoroughly taught him. However, he was also taught how to take advantage of unexpected bouts of luck... which was what made such an occasion as this "Hearth's Warming Eve" in Ponyville a challenge. If Capper wasn't careful, he could very... very easily rob these trusting pastel horses blind.

But Capper loved a challenge. Learning to receive instead of take was damn hard. But there was a certain degree of dignity to be had in accomplishing that. One soul had taught him such... had shown him.

In very little time, he reached her doorstep. Carousel Boutique was every bit as extravagant as Starlight Glimmer had hinted at—and even more. Porcelain horse figures shimmered in the glow of the moon while brilliant warm light flickered from within the fabulous abode. Capper couldn't even remotely be disappointed. And—as he stood before the salmon threshold with his cape and top hat adorning his handsome feline figure—he hoped that she wouldn't be either.

A pensive pair of fangs bit into his bottom lip as he took his hat off and reached inside with a slightly shaky paw. Unfolding a stealthy "pocket" that he had sewn into the innermost hollow of the article, he produced a tiny present wrapped in shiny blue paper with a matching sapphire blue. Just like her eyes.

If it didn't dazzle her—or the contents therein, for that matter—it would have ruined this entire trip. Capper didn't accept Twilight's invitation just for the nutmeg and fruitcake.

Steeling himself, Capper tucked the present back into its hiding place. Cradling the top hat under one arm, he reached forward with the other and knocked rhythmically on the Boutique's front door.

He stood back. He held his breath. He smiled at the entrance.

...and nothing happened.

One ear flicked. Then the other. Capper's eyes darted left and right. Coughing mildly in the snowy air, he reached forward to knock again.

That was when he heard voices. Muffled and tense. Cackling... scoffing... even belching.

There was a nervous flick to his tail. Capper's nostrils flared, as if he suddenly expected to be inhaling the sour scents and pungent aromas of Klugetown. But this was most definitely Ponyville on a wintry night... and those were most definitely pony voices he was hearing from within—garish and grumpy and grisly as they may be. It was the last thing he expected to hear coming from Rarity's domain, of all places.

He took another, closer look at the front door, fearing that maybe he had arrived at the wrong place. It was then that he discovered a doorbell—an instrument he remembered from bygone days back in the aristocratic districts of Panthera. With a nostalgic breath, he pressed the button, and a ringing noise sounded loudly through the Boutique—bombastic enough to pierce the thick layers of complaining voices blubbering within.

Less than a minute later, dainty hoofsteps briskly approached the front entrance, accompanied by an elegant voice that was tragically tainted by an undeniably vexxed tone: "Yes! YES! Just a minute... d-darlings, and I shall have that fresh batch of roasted grapenuts pr-prepared for you swiftly! Oh no no no—it's not a bother! I am... pl-pleased as platinum to make you happy this evening! J-just let me answer the d-door quickly! You never knowwww! It could be Grand Uncle Savorhoof!"

With a gust of warm air, the front door swung open, and a bleary-eyed Rarity peaked out from beneath a swath of frizzled mane hair.

"Happy Hearth's Warming," she droned, struggling to lilt her voice up by half a harmonic octave. "Please do come in—" The moment her eyes reflected a tall lanky feline, she gasped and clung to the doorframe like a helpless maiden awash at sea. "Capper!" she mewled, ears twitching. "You're not Grand Uncle Savorhoof!"

"Ha-HAH!" He laughed like a jolly manticore. "Somethin' I tell myself everyday." A wink, and he fired a paw-shaped pistol in her direction, accompanied by a whiskery click. "Tch! Care to let me crash yo crib, girl?"

For an eternally brief second, Rarity's eyes positively sparkled. Just as quickly, that heavenly shimmer faded, replaced by a pale malaise as the elegant mare coughed daintily into her forelimb and leaned into the doorframe at a sickly slant. "Capper, it is ever-so-lovely to see you, especially on Hearth's Warming Eve of all gallant occasions—"

"I know, right?!" He gestured wide, cape flaring. "I heard of holiday celebrations and all, but festivizin' it up the night before a holiday?! Man, y'all ponies have got it good!"

"Erm..." Rarity fidgeted visibly within the entrance to her Boutique. "Yes. Quite—"

"Back in Klugetown we all digged celebratin' Chinfall Day," Capper said, toying with his whiskers while his other paw playfully flipped the top hat again and again. "It marks the fateful occasion when the wicked Governor Blubbertusks was beheaded for robbing the peasantry of their life's savings two hundred years ago. But we never celebrate the Eve of Chinfall. After all, buildin' a forty-foot tall guillotine ain't as excitin' as watchin' the half-ton blade fall, y'hear?"

"Oh. That's... uhm... lovely—"

"Although, I suppose we could find a way to reenact Blubbertusks' fabled act of gorgin' himself on poisoned Bone Dry Cactus Fruit the night before his execution." Capper sported a dapper grin. "If nothin' else, it'd mark a boon for Klugetown's pharmaceutical industry, wouldn't it?"

"Capper, darling, maybe it would be best if—"

"Look, girl!" With a flash of his cape, Capper produced the blue-wrapped present and held it out before her. His fangs glinted in the Boutique's inner glow as he smiled at the tiny unicorn. "I come bearin' gifts! That's a tradition for y'all horses, ain't it?" He winked. "I promise that a bunch of even tinier horses won't come bargin' out of the package when all the soldiers are asleep and open the city gates to the invadin' army." He grimaced slightly at his own words. "Aww snap. That was a tad bit racist on my part, wasn't it?"

"You..." Rarity's lips pursed. For the briefest of moments, she was seized by the sight of the gift, by the moment, by Capper. "...you actually c-came all the way to g-give me this?"

"Sure thang, girl!" Capper hummed, holding the present in both paws now. The top hat dangled off his dancing tail as he purred, "How 'bout ya lemme wash-tail inside your foyer and you can open it while I regail ya more with tales of Blubbertusk's comeuppance! I swear, it gets even more festive after the public decapitation! Oh!" He reached deep into his cape. "I almost forgot the cider! Here ya go!" He held the tankard upside down. "Waspscaling! Apparently I'm supposed to sing too—!" His eyeslits shrank upon seeing the mug's empty contents. "Awwww Tartarus..." He looked over his shoulder. "Must've happened along the way. I hope none of y'all think I done piddled in the snow back there."

Rarity was giggling at this point. Slowly, her cheeks turned rosy, mirthful. "Oh Capper..." She brushed her bangs back, and for a moment the frizzled ends disappeared beneath her usual shimmer. "Oh Capper, darling, I would absolutely love to—"

Then, from within the Boutique, one out of many dozens of cantankerous voices rippled its way loudly in the mare's direction. "Rarityyyyy! Where are those grapenuts?! Honestly, didn't Cookie Crumbles raise you better?"

And just like that, the wind blew out of Rarity's sails, and it did so through a muddled growl. "She most certainly did." With deft poise, Rarity channeled a sufficient amount of harmony into her next sing-songy statement. "They're coming riiiight upppp! Just as I promised!"

"Uhhhh..." Capper blinked, cradling the present to his chest. "...who dat?"

"Oh... uhm..." Rarity rubbed her forehead... and rubbed and rubbed it some more. "I have been... graciously tasked with preparing a traditional Hearth's Warming Eve party for my parents' siblings... and their friends... and their friends' co-workers... and their friends' co-workers' friends..." Rarity's explanation slipped through increasingly gritting teeth upon each layer of information. "As an elegant hostess, I am... mmmmm... h-happy to please, of course."

"So I heard." Capper nodded. "Maglite Rimmer told me back at the castle. But..." He raised an eyebrow. "Why ain't yo folks doin' the hostessin'?"

"Oh, they would, but... alas..." Rarity put on a tired smile. "They're on a cruise vacation right now." Her tired smile was swiftly replaced by a tired frown. "Their fifth cruise in a row this year..." Another breath, and the frown switched places with the smile yet again. "So, the responsibility fell on me! Which is fine! Totally fine!" Her grin twitched ever-so-slightly. "Far be it from the proprietor of Rarity's Chic Boutique to turn away familial acquaintances on Hearth's Warming Eve of all nights! After all..." She tossed her mane, creating a lasting sparkle in the snow-frosted night. "...I do have a reputation to maintain! And many of these ponies are Canterlot citizens, so—"

"Sure, all that's good and fine..." Capper's eyes narrowed on her. "But did ya have a choice?"

In answer to that, Rarity could only bite her lip to keep it from quivering.

Not long after...

"Rarityyyyy! You're being very ruuuuuude!"

Rarity winced. Hard. She threw a melodic phrase over her shoulder: "Perish the thought!" Looking back at Capper, she sighed, then reached forward to push the tiny present in his paws closer to his furry chest. "Capper, darling, keep it."

He practically gasped. "But Rarity—!"

"For now, I mean!" She smiled nervously, all the while backtrotting icily into her home. "After all, there is nothing more in life that I appreciate than gift-giving. All the more reason for the moment of gift-giving to be as close to perfect as possible! I promise, the moment I'm through with this familial gathering, I'll make my way swiftly over to Twilight's Castle party and I'll open your present in a far more appropriate place and setting."

"Ya sure about that? I ain't fixin' to make thangs inconvenient—"

"Nothing inconvenient about it! I love enjoying a full rich evening!" She winked awkwardly. "I'll be there by nine o'clock! I promise!"

"Rarity, girl..." Capper gestured. "It was nine o'clock one whole hour ago!"

Rarity gasped. "What?!" She flung a frazzled look inside the Boutique. "But... that's impossible!"

"Sure ain't!" Capper gestured across town. "Unless y'all's clock tower is monitored by a blind turtle!"

"So much time has flown by..." Rarity stifled a whimper. "I thought I told them—"

"Rarityyyyy!" another voice belched.

"Sorry! Coming! I just... mrmmm..." Squeaking inwardly, Rarity shuffled backwards, shutting the door slowly with her telekinesis. "I'll find a way, Capper. Someway... somehow... I-I'll join you before Twilight's party ends."

"Well..." Capper shifted awkwardly where he stood. "A'ight."

Thud! The door shut. Rarity vanished, returning to the muffled ruckus and bedlam and inebriated laughter.

"... ... ..." Capper lingered at the entrance to the Boutique. He took a look at the tiny blue-wrapped present in his paw. Lastly, after a whispy sigh, he stuck the gift back into his top hat and made to walk back to the castle across town. He hesitated—however—then chose to stealthily move in the opposite direction. Soon he was crawling along the outward exterior of the Boutique. He did this until he came upon a set of windows looking into the toastily-lit inside of the building. Already, through his peripheral, he could make out over two dozen pastel-colored bodies huddled about—mincing, gossiping, and cackling over half-spilled mugs of nutmeg. Capper took a wary glance at the the adjacent snow-filled street. Once he was convinced no wayward carolers looking his way, he stretched his tail up and used it to crack the window open ever so slightly. Feeling a gust of warm air, he pricked his feline ears towards the event, listening in on the gargling company that had so entrapped his fabulous friend.

"There you are at last, Rarity!" a snobbish unicorn dressed in a sharp-angled dress tilted up her sharp-angled nose. She wore a red wooly scarf bespeckled with gold-threaded reindeer and none of them cantering. "Honestly! So slow on the upkeep! It's in Hondo's genes! I swear, Cookie Crumbles was always the quick-witted one!"

"I-I'll have those roasted grapenuts out in a second, darling," Rarity stammered, stumbling past a group of garishly-dressed noponies lounging on a couch. She nevertheless smiled at them. "Are you folks enjoying Sweetie Belle's holiday cookies? She made them this morning especially for this occasion!"

"Eh... not really, no," muttered a stallion.

"If you ask me, the kid should just stick to being an electrician," grumbled another. "That's what her cutie mark is, right? A lightning bolt?"

"Naaaah..." A gum-chewing blonde thing shook her head, splayed out besides a phalanx of half-empty nutmeg chalices. "You're thinking of the lame little pegasus they've got rolling around the streets of this boring town on that stupid lil' tricycle of hers. My parents almost run her over in the stagecoach every year when we visit. One of these days, I really hope they don't miss."

"Ha ha ha! Hey, that reminds me!" A rotund stallion belched, bumping occasionally into a record player and causing the track of Buck the Halls to skip repeatedly. "You wanna talk about dumb pegasi? I read in the paper the other day that Las Pegasus is destined to be named one of them stupid Sanctuary Clouds!"

"Eeeeeeugh!" A mare in a tacky sweater rolled her eyes. "Just what Equestria needs! More hideouts for those bit-grabbing migratory griffins!"

"They're the reason for all the wars we've ever had, y'know!" rasped a wrinkly old thing trying to spoon himself a bowl of pudding—only to baptize the silken tablecloth instead. He stabbed the serving plate over and over again, spitting between each pronounced consonant. "Them and the bleeding-heart senators twisting Celestia's constitutional promises to appease the snowflakes up in Canterlot! Mehhhh. Y'know, I really miss the Princess who used to banish ponies to the moon. Hah! Now there's a monarch who used to have a brain!"

"Finally!" A mare laughed, unwrapping a box, holding up a package of socks, and then tossing them disdainfully over her head. "Somepony who says it like it is! I knew you were Hondo's old mentor for a reason!"

"Actually, I'm Cookie Crumbles' neighbor's friend's co-worker's assistant substitute teacher."

"Whatever."

At this point, Rarity came stumbling out of the kitchen, telekinetically heaving an enormous tray full of grainy treats. "Here comes the grapenuts, everyponyyyyy!"

"Frickin' finally," snorted someone fumbling with an ornament, inadvertently cracking it in half. "For realsies, does anypony have any sense of punctuality in this grubby farmer's town?"

A fat acne-riddled creature waddled up, trotting in pace with Rarity towards' the snack table. "Hey! Raritits!"

Rarity weathered a heavy sigh in mid-carry. "Well, that's close enough, I suppose."

The teenager continued: "You wanna help me sign my petition?"

"What petition is that, darling?"

"Me and a hundred thousand other fanponies across Equestria are writing a strongly-worded letter to A.K. Yearling, demanding that she remove her latest novel Daring Do and the Phantom Torso from literary canon!"

"Really, now?" Rarity awkwardly navigated a forest of wheezing, yawning, surly bodies to reach her destination. "Whatever for?"

The young stallion adjusted his spectacles in violent indignation. "Isn't it obvious?! Phantom Torso is nothing but a Social Justice Whinnier's wet dream! It's ruining the Daring Do franchise with unnecessary feminist pretense!"

"Well, I can't imagine why that would be," Rarity said, her harmonic tone slowly decaying along with the telekinetic descent of the grapenuts to the pudding-stained table. "After all, A.K. Yearling is only a female... writing a female protagonist..." She added the last bit under her breath. "...based on real-life events."

There was a nasal retort: "Are you trying to make fun of me?"

"What? OH! Uhm... n-not at all, darling!"

"Because you'd better not be! I know what it means to be oppressed!"

"How terribly tragic. Here—have yourself a scoop of grapenuts and go sit over by the fire where you'll be... less oppressed, my dear."

As Rarity made her way across the sea of impatient patrons, a middle-aged mare in a slinky gown smiled drunkenly from her half-raised chalice of questionable beverage. "I absolutely love what you've done with the place—hic—Rarity."

"Oh, why thank you!" Rarity returned with a momentary voice of harmony.

"Mmmm...Hic! Quite..." The mare rotated the glass in her hooves. "All of the Hearth's Warming garland and shiny tinsel? It's a vast improvement over the positively boorish collection of drab 'dresses' that is usually filling this place."

Rarity's shoulders shook. Nevertheless, with a flick of her tail, she sighed on through the impermeable wall and went about her homely duties. "Duly noted..."

"Cookie Crumbles loves to brag and brag about your accomplishments in fashion. Such a typically predictable 'mother' thing to do. But..." The mare took a deep sip. "Hic! From what I've seen? If you want my advice, honey, just stick to crochet. It'll at least earn you a bit or two in the local flea market of this puny little town. In the meantime, you can make an honest living doing something more practically-suited to your talents."

"Like roasting grape nuts!"

"HIC! Exactly!"

"Hahahahaha!"

"Heeheehee..."

"Heh heh heh heh... burp!"

Slowly—with the same prehensile tail that he had used to open it—Capper closed the window from the snowy outside. His nostrils flared.

He had seen enough.

Scratching his chin with a lone claw, he turned and looked all around the nearby street corner. His eyes reflected a lamppost, a fire hydrant, and finally a set of shiny aluminum garbage cans. He beamed suddenly, then scampered across the sidewalk on all fours.

Sliding to a stop across the frosted concrete, Capper plucked the lid off one garbage can and then kicked the thing over. Trash spilled messily across the snow-patched lawn of an apartment building while he yanked the can up and shook it all over. He took his top hat off, then proceeded to punch and pummel the center of the aluminum garbage can lid. After half-a-minute, it successfully dented to form a conical shape, almost like a rice hat. Plopping this on his head, he then fished through the garbage until he found a whole carrot and some loose string. Last but not least, Capper threw off his cape, turned his burgundy jacket inside out, then rolled back and forth across the snow until the article was sufficiently covered in white powdery frost. Nearly complete with his "preparations," he smirked in the direction of the Boutique with a sinister glint of purpose in his turquoise eyeslits...

"And so..." Stifling a burp, a stallion munched on a tiny bowl of grapenuts while gesturing at the mare seated in the warm Boutique across from him. "...my rebuttal is this: Why so hung-up on foalcon, everypony? After all, Clover the Clever was age fourteen when she got pregnant! You don't see us vilifying Starswirl the Bearded!"

"That's right!" the mare gasped, then shook her head. "Wow, the media today is soooo biased."

"Damn straight." He took a sip of nutmeg, swallowed, and bore a bore a milky smile. "By the way, I love how that skirt shows off your plot, bae."

"Heeheehee..." She twirled a pigtail. "Thanks, cousin."

The doorbell rang.

"Oooh!" Rarity stood up from cleaning a fresh stain on the tile floor and scooted towards the front entrance. "I had better get that!"

"Yeah!" another distant acquaintance sounded off. "It could finally be Grand Uncle Savorhoof!"

"Assuming he hasn't croaked in that Old Horse home!"

"Hahahaha!"

"Heheheheh..." Rarity wheezed through gritting teeth. "Yes, quite." She reached the door and opened it. "Hello and how may I please help—?"

"OH YEAH!!!" Capper burst through the door in a flash of aluminum. "HAPPY HEARTH'S WARMING MAH PUSSIES!!!" He skidded to a stop on grating claws, wearing a conical hat that matched the pale shimmer of his snow-speckled coat. A fanged smile glistened beneath a carrot-nose strung up to his whiskery face with twine. CLANG! CLANG! CLANG! He rhythmically slapped the top of a hollow garbage can several times. "Who's ready for tonight's entertainment, y'all?!"

"Wha—?!" Rarity did a double-take, her ears drooping as her pupils shrank to penpricks. "Capper—?! Why in Celestia's name—?!"

"Buck the halls with boughs of horse junkkk!!!" Capper marched through the cornucopia of bright-eyed-and-blinking equines, banging on his makeshift drum the entire time and littering snowflakes everywhere. "F'naaaa-la-la-la-laaaaaaaaaa!" His ears twitched from underneath the conical metal hat, and he hissed aside. "That's how the song goes, right? Hah! Forgive the bumps, y'all! I ain't workin' off no lyric sheet! This here's real street magic in the makin'! WOO! Better recognize!"

Rarity's muzzle dropped lower and lower. Her gaze danced incredulously off the shuffling bodies of murmuring and confused guests.

"Uhhhhhh..." An acne-riddled teenager waddled up to Capper and tapped his frosted shoulder. "Who in the heck are you?"

Capper flashed him a flabbergasted look. "What, did yo momma poop you out just yesterday? I'm the Frosty the Snowcat, yo!"

"Pfffft!" The young stallion smiled through dirty braces. "Nopony's ever heard of Frosty the Snowcat!"

"Says you!" Capper booped him so hard his glasses fell to the ground with an audible shatter. "Pop culture! Learn some, foo!" CLANG! CLANG! CLANG! "Jingle my bells! Jingle my bells! Jingle me all the waaaaaaaay!" He pirouetted until he leaned suavely against a middle-aged mare in a slinky dress. "'Ey girl." A wink and a grin. "Love the dress. How many buffalo did ya kill to skin it?"

"Hmmmf! Why, I never!"

"Hey, if I was a bison that done got killed by you, I'd never fess up either!" CLANG! CLANG! "DON'T ASK DON'T TELL! SO JINGLE MY BELLLLS!"

"Now look here, young... young thing!" A wrinkly stallion marched up to the gentlecat, pointing and frowning. "There must be some mistake."

"Mistake?" Capper raised an eyebrow. "Yo, am I blind or ain't this 1600 Ponyvania Avenue?"

"What—no! No it isn't even remotely!"

Capper's left ear twitched. Then his right. "Pffft. Screw it." He marched over before a crackling fireplace and struck a pose. "Somepony done ordered some entertainment, and I sure as Tartarus ain't gonna give up on some well-earned bits!"

"You stupid freak!" a blonde thing spat. "We don't wanna be entertained!"

"That's what they all say at first." He winked, twirled the garbage can upside down, then slapped it against the tile. "Now, check it." He grabbed a pair of spoons from two yelping patrons, shook the pudding off, and squatted before the "instrument." "I'm gonna do this Manehattan subway style. So y'all are gonna have to fill in the lack of harmony with heavy cussin', pedestrian jeers, and wayward flatulence. I suspect it won't come all that hard."

"You've gotta be kidding—"

"Dun be shy, everypony! Frosty the Snowcat knows how to get this party bumpin'!" He waved his snow-riddled sleeves, grinning wide. "Just need to get into the holiday spirit! And I know the right beat, too!" He cracked his neck joints while staring intently at the top of the garbage can drum. "It's this hype song I picked up from this swell bunch of griffin migrants I ran into while serenadin' in Las Pegasus! Them feathery folks say drummin' it kept them in real good spirits while they was rowin' 'cross the Marediterranean!"

A cold collective shudder ran pale through the entire group.

"Now that I think about it, there's an accompanyin' chant that goes with the beat! First I gotsta uvulate a bit before I can copy that sorta melodic thang!" He then proceeded to cough and wheeze and hack like the mother of all furballs was crawling up his esophagus. "Hckkkt! Hrkkkkkk! Hraaaaaaaaauckhuuuutkkkkk!"

The grimaces of the gathered guests increased like sedimentary iron deposits across a fuzzy seabed. They huddled closer and closer together, shivering in one accord—flinching with each hacking cough that spat out of Frosty the Snowcat's drooling maw.

"Hrakkkkkt! Shrknkkkkt! Ynnnnnahluuuuuutrrrrr!" Capper grasped his throat with a paw, stifled an inward hiss, then squinted at the cowering crowd. "Yo, Frosty's been places. Might've caught more than his fair share of the feline flu, ya feel me? The sweat swimmin' crotch crawl, if ya catch Frosty's snowdrifts. HRKKKKK! It's from all them arctic voyages across the proverbial Hearth's Warming Ocean of gift-givin'. Some gifts were received more than a few others, heheheh. Good thang it ain't contagious to ponies." He turned to lean over and grin mere inches from a whimpering mare's face. "At least... not from any of the reports I've heard of, and Frosty dun read the medical journals." He breathed against her nose. "Love your mane, girl. Very... chemical."

"Oh my sweet Celestia..." She sobbed, teetering backwards.

"WHOAH DAYUM!" Capper spontaneously frog-leapt over the garbage can, making everypony hop backwards at once. He landed upright before the refreshment table, arms spread towards the enormous tray full of roasted grapenuts. "You've gotta be spayin' me! Finally! Y'all have any idea how long I've been holdin' it in?!" He picked the dessert tray up and planted it down onto the tile floor with a grunt. "I never thought I'd be seein' one of these in this crib of all places! Praise the cat gods, yo!"

That said, he proceeded to step into the miniature pool of grape nuts, liberally squishing the viscous pudding baked beneath the outer layer of edible granules. After turning around three whole times, he had himself a little squat.

"Ahhhhhhhhhh..." A cheeky grin formed beneath his carrot nose. "Y'all might wanna clear off a bit." There was silence as everypony stared blankly at him. "Uhm... hello...?" He lifted his tail. Straight for the ceiling. "None of y'all ever seen a litter box before?"

"UHHHHHM!"

"UHHHHH!"

"Okay then—!"

"Whelp—!"

One by one, the ponies grabbed their coats and purses and other horse things and made a hasty bee-line for the exit.

"Rarity..."

"Rarity, honey..."

"It's been positively lovely, dear!"

"B-best Hearth's Warming party we ever had!"

"Our love to Hondo and Cookie for such a lovely night and hostess..."

"But... uhm..."

"Erm..."

"I-I think we're wanted back at the hotel!"

"Yes! And I'm late for a meeting with my co-workers!"

"And I-I gotta write that petition!"

"Err—the carolers!"

"YES! We can't miss the Hearth's Warming Carolers!"

"It's getting late, after all!"

"In any case—thanks for the drinks and your sister's fabulous cookies and..."

"Uhm..."

"Good night."

"Yes! Good night!"

"And Merry Hearth's Warming!"

"Merry Hearth's Warming!"

Dumbfounded, a thoroughly-dazed Rarity could only shake the hooves of every other distant relative and acquaintance she could scarcely manage to see while they swiftly blurred by. "Yes. Oh... it has been so very lovely, hasn't it? Happy Hearth's Warming! Don't forget your scarf—oh, well... c-come back for it sometime then, I suppose! Yes... uhm... so long! And happy tidings, my dearest... darlings..."

By now, the bodies were stampeding. Tails and manes flicked, swallowed up by wintry snowfall before—

THUD!

—the last patron was gone with a slam of the door.

All was still.

Only Capper remained. Capper... and a thoroughly mute fashionista, surrounded by the chaotic detritus of festivities left behind.

"Awwwwwwwwwww..." Capper moped, his cat ears drooping. "I didn't even get to the song!"

Rarity spun around to blink at him.

He shrugged. "'Oh Silent Neigh?'" Another shrug. "'It Came Upon a Midnight Clop?'" A third, this time accompanied by a burgeoning smirk. "'The Laughing Hippogriff and Her Dog?' Come on, girl! One of them's gotta be a legit horse hymn!"

"You..." Rarity slowly trotted across the festively-stained domain, her hoofsteps echoing against the pearlescent interior of her Boutique. "...you did that on purpose, didn't you?"

"'Eyyy now..." Capper stood up and hobbled out of the tray, shaking loose granules of grapenuts and dollops of pudding from his lower paws. "Frosty the Snowcat don't front..." He snapped the carrot nose's string and shook the garbage lid off, smiling. "...does he?"

"Capper..." Rarity fumed, frowning hard. "What you did just now wasn't very friendly whatsoever." She marched towards him on angry little diva hooves. "As a matter of fact, it was rude, crude, boorish, and downright uncouth." A very tense pause, and then her features melted like a marshmallow's. Soon she was leaning towards the bipedal cat, nuzzling her happy smile into his heavenly-soft chest fluff. "And I couldn't have asked for an even better Hearth's Warming gift."

"Heh heh heh..." He hugged her gently, giving her shoulders a slight squeeze. "Shoulda known I was gonna deliver the very moment I showed up, girl."

"Oh Capper..." She looked up at him with glossy eyes. A tender smile flickered between them. "You can most certainly 'crash my crib' any day, as t'were."

"Well..." His voice emulated her elegant pitch as he held out a furry pinkie. "As t'were." He then reached into his inside-out jacket. "I suspect there's a best Hearth's Warming gift yet to be delivered!" He pulled the blue package out into the light so that it shined almost as much as her. "Voila!"

Rarity giggled, batting her eyelashes at him. "Another trick you 'picked up in the Manehattan subway'?"

"No." He winked back. "A trick I learned from y'all ponyfolk. Generosity's a crazy thang, ain't it?"

"Mmmmm. I find myself liking it more and more every year."

"Figure we could scamper on back to Twilight's place and open it there—where you'll be among friends." He slicked back his stone blue pompadour and brandished a dashing smile. "That way the gift-givin' can be as 'close to perfect as possible.'"

"This is as close to perfect as possible, darling," Rarity said, gently taking the blue package in a field of telekinesis. She smiled rosily up at him. "And I'm already among friends."

"A'ight." He removed his jacket, fluffed the remaining snowflakes loose, and wore it normal. "Gonna give it a shake first, or...?"

"Oh please, Capper..." She climbed up onto a sofa cushion and sat on folded limbs. "A lady doesn't direspect a finely-wrapped present in such a rough manner!"

"Ah! But of course!" Capper hopped onto a chair across from her, turned around three times, and sat down with his chin propped happily in a pair of paws. "Gonna school me more on pony holiday tradition, huh?"

"Nothing of the sort!" Rarity waved a hoof. "Personally, I prefer to take my sweet time soaking in the generosity of loved ones!" Delicately, ribbon by ribbon, she undid the bow and shiny wrapping of the gift. "Although..." She smiled warmly as she took the lid to the box off. "...I seriously doubt that you'll have the faculty to undo yourself after minutes ago. Never before have I been given a gift so heartfelt or shown a gesture so sincere that—" Her eyes exploded as she saw the contents of the package and she dropped the container like an anvil to the floor below, hooves flailing. "Wah-hah-HAH-hah!!!"

Capper sat up straight, ears perked. "Buh?"

"Ew ew ew ew ew!!!" Rarity shook her head, struggling to keep her bile down her throat. "Gross! Gross!! Gross!!!"

"What?!" Capper shrugged, confused and alarmed. "What's wrong?!"

"What's wrong?!?" Rarity huffed and puffed, her face and upper neck flushed red. "It's a dead bird, Capper!" She gnashed her teeth, horn sparkling in unbridled fury. "A pathetic, poor, mottled-up, most-certifiably dead bird!"

"Hey!" Capper folded his forelimbs, frowning. "Not just any dead bird! I'll have you know that suckah put up a real fight!"

"Eeeugh..." Rarity face-hoofed as she limped off the chair and trotted in a direction away from the fallen package and its loosely-spilled contents. "Celestia spare me..."

"I batted the bastard around for three whole hours before he finally chose to give up the ghost! The lil' thang had a lotta spunk in him! So dun tell me it's 'pathetic!' Let's see you spend half a day stompin' on a mouse and then call it—Hey! Where you goin'?!"

"I just... just..." Rarity covered her lips as her muzzle suddenly turned green. Belching liquidly, she stumbled up the stairs to her Boutique's second floor. "I just—urp—need some time, Capper."

"But—"

"Please, Capper! Just... please..." And she stumbled out of view.

"Hey!" He craned his furry neck towards the opposite end of the room. "Would it help you to know that he abandoned his wife and kids before I pounced on him back in Klugetown?! Only three days old, girl! In my book, that's still counts as 'fresh!'"

Silence.

With a shrug, Capper reached down, picking up the tiny winged morsel. "Tch... man... horse bitches be crazy." That said, he took a crunching bite. Feathers leaked out between his munching fangs. "Mmmmmm..." A smile. "Zesty!"