Zecora Tries Her Hoof At Clop

In the seedier part of Ponyville, where shops are not painted quite as brightly, and dim shades are drawn over windows, there is a bookstore. This is not the same kind of bookstore a pony might expect to find in a more respectable part of town. This is rather the type of bookstore that is right at home nestled between the decaying laundromat and the abandoned movie theater where one could find it.

If a pony were to enter through the dark-tinted glass door of this bookstore, they would be regarded disinterestedly by the proprietor, an older stallion with a deep orange coat and a slicked back graying mane. The proprietor would not likely say much, if asked a question, instead giving a grunt before turning his attention back to his newspaper.

A pony, upon entering such an establishment, would be greeted with the musty smell of yellowing pages. Shelves of cheap paperbacks occupy the center of the store, their spines proclaiming lurid titles like “Riding Hard at Sunset” and “Diaries of a Filly-fooler.” The white tile floor, though clean, would nevertheless stick to a pony's hooves as though juice had been spilled there at some point in the past.

Nearer to the counter, where the owner of the bookstore would still be passively nursing his mug of coffee, a few racks of... “novelties” can be found. Some of the toys are clearly meant to be gag gifts and nothing else, being far too outlandish to ever actually be used. Others appear to have a more practical application in mind in their design.

Along the far wall, more books line the racks. If a pony were to have frequented this establishment often enough, they might notice that the owner tends to keep the more bawdy titles in the center shelves while a few of the more reserved ones end up back here.

About midway between the third and fourth dividers on this back wall, wedged between one book with a unicorn drawn on the spine and another entitled “Wallop My Whithers,” a pony might find a plain, blue-covered tome. At the right angle in the light, stripes would appear to flash across the cover.

If a pony were to try and crack this striped book open, the proprietor would likely growl at them, insisting that they pay for the book before reading it. At only three bits, it is not a huge investment, and if so inclined, such a book may provide a pony with an interesting diversion for a few hours.

Upon paying for the book, a pony would no doubt take their prize home with them. They would likely wait until they have a little bit of privacy before digging it out of their saddlebag and opening to the first page.