Chapter 1 - Among the Zinnias
On the twenty-first day of the month of September, in an early year of a decade not too long before our own, ponykind suddenly encountered a deadly threat to its very existence; And this terrifying enemy surfaced, as such enemies often do, in the seemingly most innocent and unlikely of places...
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Twilight stared through the display window and across the street, her eyes glazed over and not focused on anything in particular, watching the ponies go by. She thought of things and of different things, and how the same things could have been different. She thought of Canterlot, her home, and of Manehatten and of Skid Row. She thought of her parents, despite not remembering them. She thought, if only for a split second, of her situation. She thought about what would have happened, had she stayed in Canterlot. She attempted to think some more, but was interrupted.
“Twilight, what are you doing?” A voice coarse as pepper filled the room.
“Nothing sir, just… business as usual,” Twilight replied, picking her head off her broomstick, reaching up to feel the slight indent left in her cheek.
“Well, ‘business as usual’ usually means no customers, and I’m not paying you to lose money, I’m paying you to make money, so you can either get back to work or you can go back onto the streets where I found you.”
Twilight groaned and began to sweep the storefront of Orange Flowers, the premier flower supplier in all of Skid Row, which, granted, isn’t saying very much. She watched the rhythmic pattern of the broom as it swept up dirt into a line as long as the broom was wide before zoning out again.
“Twilight, if you don’t get your head out of the clouds I may as well ship you off to Cloudsdale. Now, keep sweeping or you’re—” the man was cut off by a softer, more effeminate voice from the stairwell.
“Uncle Orange, I find it completely unacceptable that you insist on bossing around my employees, especially while your own business is in shambles after the Fruit War,” the voice’s owner revealed herself as she ascended the stairwell. “Now, if you have something to say about my employees I recommend you file it with the Complaints Department.” She pointed an orange hoof at the nearby trash can. “Do I make myself clear?”
“Well if your ‘employees’ were better, maybe—” Uncle Orange tried to refute Applejack’s claims, but was instead met with a garbage can hurled across the room. Twilight groaned at the thought of having to clean up another mess.
The door’s bell jingled and everypony turned their heads. “Evening, darlings,” Rarity greeted. “Oh, and, hello to you, Mister Orange.”
“You’re late,” replied Orange.
“You’re not her boss,” chimed Twilight.
“Can it!”
“Woah, woah, woah, hey, settle down, y’all,” Applejack interjected. “Let’s talk about something else, like, perhaps, this strange plant I found growing under one of the heat lamps in the basement?” And with that, Applejack procured a small flytrap from her saddlebag.
“Be careful with that!” Twilight hissed before swiping it up in her magical grip.
“Well, what is it? And I hope it better be worth keeping because I can’t afford to have it sit under the heat lamps all day and night, unless you want to pay the bills.”
“Well, it’s a, uhm… The truth is… I don’t know what it is. But, it’s a rarity, for sure, and I’m certain that if we set it up in the window it will attract customers.”
“A rarity, huh? Well, perhaps we should call it Rarity II?”
“Well, I’m flattered, really, but I don’t think that thing is going to attract anypony,” Rarity said flatly. “If anything, we should just mulch it.”
“I agree with the ever-so-tardy Rarity,” Uncle Orange concurred.
“Come on, at least give it a chance?” Twilight turned to her boss. “Please, AJ?”
Applejack looked at the plant, then Twilight, and, finally, the windowsill. “Oh, alright, but if it doesn’t attract a single customer by the end of the day, it’s gettin’ mulched.”
Twilight gently set down the plant on the windowsill. “Now, we wait.”
“No, now the lot of you get back to work!” Uncle Orange yelled.
The door’s bell jingled and in walked a pony in a suit, the kind you usually don’t see down in Skid Row.
“Oh, for cryin’ out loud, you better not be with the loaners,” Applejack began. “I already told you guys, I’ll get the money—”
“Oh, no, no, miss. I’m here because I saw that marvelous plant out in the display, and I just had to know what it is.”
Everypony turned to Twilight. “Well, it’s a, uhm… Rarity II?”
“A Rarity II? Well, I’ve never heard of one of those before, they must be incredibly rare, as the name intends. I’ll take twenty.”
“I’m sorry, sir, but, it’s just the one. We do have some other flowers, though, if you’re interested,” Rarity spoke.
“Forget the others, I want to know about the Rarity II! How did you come across such a strange and exotic cutting?”
Twilight looked at her coworkers, then to Uncle Orange, who seemed to be staring her down with the intensity of the basement’s heat lamp. She swallowed. “Well, do you remember that total eclipse of the sun a few weeks back? Well, I was walking in the flower district in upper Manehatten when I walked past this old gryphon who is known to sell strange and exotic cuttings.
“I perused his wares for a bit and saw nothing unusual there that day, so I decided I would walk on by, when, suddenly, and without warning, there was this total eclipse of the sun!”
“Yes, we are all aware of the eclipse, which is strange within itself, but its not exotic like the plant over there; Tell me more about that,” the pony interrupted.
“Yes, well, I heard this weird humming sound like that of another world, and when the light came back, this weird plant was just sitting there, y'know, among the zinnias.”
“Rarity II?” The pony interrupted again.
“I could’ve sworn it wasn’t there before, but the gryphon sold it to me anyway for a bit ninety-five.”
“Wow, what an amazing origin story!” The pony exclaimed. “I have to go tell my friends about this.” The pony began to make his leave, and Uncle Orange smirked at Twilight for failing to bring in a customer.
“Oh, wait, I almost forgot!” The pony exclaimed before turning back. “I have this wife, and our anniversary is soon. How much is a dozen red roses?”
“A dozen red roses?” Twilight thought. “That’ll be nine—”
“That’ll be nineteen ninety-five,” Rarity interrupted. “Sorry, dear, I just have to make sure I get these prices down.”
Twilight blinked. “Oh, no, it’s fine, Rarity, I, uhm, I…”
“Hey do you have change for a one hundred?” The pony asked. Four heads immediately shot up.
Before anypony had time to breathe, Applejack grabbed the money and headed toward the register. “Nope, sorry, no can-do.”
“Oh, well then I guess I’ll have to buy four dozen roses, instead,” said the customer.
The register dinged. “Great, because we have a no-return policy,” Applejack said gleefully. “Rarity! Twilight! Wrap up this young man’s roses.”
“Yes, ma’am,” said Twilight and Rarity in unison.