“Maud!” Rarity managed to bound down the slope to the bottom of Ghastly Gorge and land right at Maud Pie’s side without getting a speck of dirt on her coat or a hair out of place. “Maud, darling, is there any chance I could ask you the teensiest favor?”
Maud didn’t look up from the mineral deposit she was examining. “Technically, you can,” she said, “but that doesn’t mean I’ll do it.”
Rarity forced a smile onto her face. You could almost hear the squeaking. “Well, you see, I’m quite busy working on my collection for the Canterlot Royal Fashion Show, and I’m in dire need of assistance running Rarity for You. Just for a single day. And… And I was wondering…” She swallowed. “…if you… might… be willing to help?” She forced her smile wider.
“I have an opening,” said Maud. “Boulder and I can watch your shop for a day.”
“Oh, thank Celestia!” gasped Rarity. “I was at the end of my rope and- You… and… Boulder?” She was very lucky Maud didn’t hear her squeak in distress.
“…divided by season, color, and price,” Rarity was saying. “Classic SCP system. All the shops use it.” She eyed Maud, standing at the cash register, and Boulder. “Are you positive you can handle this?”
“Yes,” said Maud. “This is simple. Right, boy?”
Boulder sat reassuringly on the counter.
Although her nerves weren’t significantly calmed, Rarity’s heart stopped going a mile a minute. “Of course, of course,” Rarity said. “And remember, the focus is on the customer! Now, I’m sorry, but I’ve spent too much time here as it is and really must be off. Ta-ta!” She scrambled out the door, levitating almost a dozen bags behind her.
“We got this, Boulder,” said Maud. “Right?”
Boulder sat affirmingly on the counter.
“Right.”
“I beg pardon,” said the upper-class stallion to Maud. He held up a suit. “What’s the thread count on this ensemble?”
“I’m just the cashier,” said Maud. “You’ll need to take it up with Boulder.” She pointed.
“Can’t get good help these days,” the stallion mumbled. He stared at Boulder for a moment. “Very well. …Boulder. The thread count. I can’t be seen in less than a thousand.”
Boulder sat questioningly on the counter.
“Well- Yes, they- They can tell the thread count from sight! It’s- You wouldn’t understand!”
Boulder sat skeptically on the counter.
“Okay,” the stallion admitted, “no, they can’t.”
Boulder sat confusedly on the counter.
“Because it’s a… reputation… thing. If they knew I wasn’t in a top-tier suit, I could be ruined! Because- reasons!”
Boulder sat inquisitively on the counter.
“No, I do like the suit, but if they found out-”
Boulder sat emphatically on the counter.
“…You’re right. The suit feels nice, and what’s the difference between eight hundred and one thousand threads, anyway?”
Maud rang him up for the suit. “Thank you for your patronage.”
“So, like, yah?” asked the valley mare, holding up a dress. “Or, like, yaaaah?” She held up another.
Boulder sat contemplatively on the counter.
“Yah?”
Boulder sat assertively on the counter.
“But, like, yyyaaahhh!”
Boulder sat convincingly on the counter.
“Oh… like, oh, yah.”
Boulder sat resolutely on the counter.
“Yah! Yah, like, yah.”
Maud rang her up for both dresses. “Thank you for your patronage.”
“We are but roadkill, mere carrion, crushed ants on the great path of time,” the goth stallion said as he examined a leather jacket. “Our greatest achievements will whither to nothing and be swept away in the blink of a cosmic eye. And I need something that reflects that. Especially if it’s fifty percent off.”
Boulder sat despondently on the counter.
“Or, you’re right, maybe doesn’t reflect that. For reflections cast light back out into the world, as opposed to taking that light and locking it in a box inside a safe inside a vault, never to be seen again. Should I go with black, like my soul? Black absorbs light the same way the cold, cruel, uncaring universe absorbs all happiness and meaning.”
Boulder sat despairingly on the counter.
“No, I’m pretty sure I don’t want orange with pink polka dots.” (Rarity wouldn’t be caught dead making that; it was Pinkie’s idea of a prank.) “Or perhaps I do. Such a terrible, ludicrous sense of fashion — itself devoid of all sense of culture, reason, and purpose — would drive ponies away, leaving me to wallow in utter loneliness and nothingness for the rest of my life.”
Boulder sat depressedly on the counter.
“And- Oh, forty percent off. How currently meaningful, yet ultimately laughably futile and pointless once the cosmos cave in on themselves.”
Boulder sat nihilistically on the counter.
“I think I shall, thank you. Not that it matters, just like everything else in this pathetic farce called ‘life’.”
Maud rang him up for the jacket. “Thank you for your patronage.”
The mare spat her tea out and hurled the cup at Smoky Jr. “You call that tea?” she shrieked as the raccoons skittered for cover. “Swill, more like!” She stomped to the cash register. “You!” she said to Maud. “Are y-”
“I’m just the cashier,” said Maud. “You need to take it up with Boulder.”
The mare glared at Boulder, her ears twitching as she decided what to do. Finally, she decided to just roll with it. “You. Are you going to do anything about those rodents and their appalling service?”
Boulder sat protectively on the counter.
“But the tea they serve! It’s… lukewarm!”
Boulder sat steadfastly on the counter.
“Get rid of them! Now!” screamed the mare. “Or so help me, see if I ever shop here again! Ever! …Ever!”
Boulder sat unflinchingly on the counter.
“I’m sorry the complimentary tea you got from a fashion store wasn’t up to coffee house standards,” said Maud. “Would you like your money back?”
“Please,” groaned the mare.
Boulder sat expectantly on the counter.
Maud opened up the cash register, dug around in it for a few moments, and held out an empty hoof. “Here.”
The mare looked at Maud’s hoof. At Maud. At her hoof. “Very funny,” she said, scowling. She turned her back on the counter and stomped out in a huff.
Boulder sat smugly on the counter.
“And they’re procyonids,” said Maud. “No thank you for your lack of patronage.”
“So you’re the only pony here?” asked the last customer skeptically. “You haven’t moved in hours!”
“I’m just the cashier,” said Maud. “If you have any questions, take them up with Boulder.”
The mare glanced at Boulder and smirked. “So. Mr. Boulder. Would it be okay if I took some of these dresses outside to… ‘test’?”
Boulder sat negatively on the counter.
“Thaaank you!” The mare began snatching up dresses from every section.
Boulder sat indignantly on the counter.
“Did you hear him?” said Maud. “He minds very much. And he’s very good at crime deterrent.”
“Mmhmm,” said the mare, draping her selected dresses over her back. “I’m sure he is. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I really must be going.” She turned to the door.
Boulder slammed into the back of her head, sending her sprawling and her dresses every which way. “Son of a-” the mare mumbled. She kicked a few times, attempting to disentangle herself from the pile. When she finally got her head out, she yelled at Maud, “What was that for?”
“I’m just the cashier,” said Maud. “You need to take it up with Boulder. He’s very good at crime deterrent.”
Boulder sat aggressively on the floor.
“There-” The mare wiggled a leg, trying to extricate it from a sleeve. “There was no need for that! I was going to return them. Definitely.”
Boulder sat belligerently on the floor.
“Stupid rock,” she snapped. She hurled one of the dresses away, kicked him across the room, and turned to the door.
She faceplanted again as Boulder smashed into her head again. The door made a squeaky sound as her face slid down the glass. Breathing heavily, she rolled onto her back and looked wildly around the room.
Boulder sat menacingly on the floor.
“I’m sorry!” yelped the mare. “I won’t do it again! I promise! Just please don’t hurt me again!”
Boulder sat allowingly on the floor.
The moment the mare was on her hooves, she plowed through the door and onto the street, never looking back.
“No thank you for your lack of patronage,” Maud said. Her knees creaking from finally moving again, she walked to the door, gathered up the dresses, and hung them back up, smoothing them out as best she could. Then she picked up Boulder and carefully laid him back on the counter. “Are you okay, boy?”
Boulder sat agreeably on the counter.
“Good.”
“Uffh!” Rarity was in a busy tizzy as she loped down Ghastly Gorge to Maud. “Excuse me? Maud?”
“Yes?”
“Please tell me you have good news regarding Rarity for You. The fashion show… Well, I guess it wasn’t a total disaster, but it was far from my finest work. The centerpiece was missing a certain… I don’t know what. A certain je ne sais quoi.”
“Keeping shop was fun,” said Maud. “Boulder and I didn’t have any problems. We sold a lot of clothes. Right?”
Boulder sat satisfied on the ground.
“That’s something,” Rarity said quietly. She anxiously twirled a lock of hair around her hoof. “So I… don’t suppose… hypothetically speaking, of course… in the future… you might be willing to do it again?”
“If we’re open.”
“Thank you. And thank you, both of you, for all your hard work and assistance.”
“You’re welcome,” said Maud.
Boulder sat humbly on the ground.
