An Occurrence at Oats Creek Fair
Tales of Sentries and Civilians
The air was ripe with the scent of diesel fumes, funnel cake, and goat manure. Clown music warbled on mechanical loop between percussion blasts of infant wails—all the while a perpetual chorus of Kid Rock and Cotton-Eyed-Joe billowed from stacked speakers, echoing against the surrounding hills and treelines.
A carnival on the outskirts of Canterlot was filling up with life—both local and visiting, but mostly fans of denim vests and rat-tails. Families, friends, and freeloaders shambled their way between rides, benches, and bleachers filled with autumnal decorations. And as the night slowly died around the whirling sea of steel and aluminum, a kaleidoscopic display of flashing bulb-lights challenged every epilepsy victim for counties upon counties in every direction.
A banner marked "Oats Creek Fair" flapped loosely in the fall breeze over the central promenade of shooting galleries and ring-toss games. Hours upon hours of attendance that weekend had littered the earth and its dead brown grass with crumpled napkins, empty soda bottles, and styrofoam plates. Trash cans had been reduced to mountains of congregating refuse, with beer bottles and used diapers lingering in loose orbit.
Between such colorful details—and the even-more-colorful teeth of the smiling ride operators—Flash Sentry would very easily have wished his young self away from that place and moment. But there was one thing keeping him there that evening—make that seven things. Seven angelic souls of estrogen, harmony, and more estrogen.
"Did you see the look on that chump's face when I beat his 'unbeatable' doll smash game?" Rainbow Dash perpetually stretched in mid-stride, crossing her athletic arms up and behind her neck in a posture that showed off plenty of the young woman's DFC(®). "Mmmmmm—yuppp!" She smacked her lips, basking in the afterglow of being herself. "He won't be hauling his carney-wagon through my town again! Nosireebob!"
Fluttershy giggled, utilizing her entire uper body to cradle a sinfully enormous Minions doll. "Everyone deserves to be humbled now and again, Rainbow Dash." A painted wink. "Even you."
"Pffft!" Rainbow rolled her ruby eyes. "Is that any way to thank me for winning you that... that... thing?"
"Yeah!" Pinkie skipped along the rest of the gal-pals. "I thought you didn't like the Despicable Me movies, Fluttershy!" She arched a quizzical eyebrow. "They're always giving you 'horrible migraines' and stuff!"
"They do. But this..." Fluttershy winced, sweating slightly as she struggled to hold the overized plushie better. "...is going straight home to the Shelter." She huffed. "Roger the Rottweiler has been hurting for company, the poor thing."
"Lemme guess." Applejack smirked, squinting across the group. "Chew toy."
"Mmmm..." Fluttershy blushed through a guilty smile. "Chew toy."
Giggles lit the air.
"I must say I'm surprised," Sunset Shimmer remarked. She walked uncomfortably close past an obese family standing in line for chocolate pretzels along with their shrieking toddlers. Her nimble fingers brushed her scarlet bangs straight. "I was expecting to be there all night."
"What, at the doll smashing game?" Pinkie Pie squawked. "Did you see the ugly faces those nasty-clown-monsters were making?!" She contorted her face to a grotesque degree for emphasis. "Myeaaaaughhhh! It's a wonder they didn't just smack themselves and do the job for Dashie!"
"You spittin' on my throwing arm, there, Sunny?" Rainbow's voice cracked.
"N-not at all!" Sunset said with a slight chuckle.
Twilight Sparkle leaned in. "I think what she means is..." She adjusted her spectacles above a calm smile. "...we spent an entire day trying to conquer the last carnival game we chanced upon."
"Mrmmmff..." Applejack tilted the brow of her hat far-forward to obscure her frown. "That's cuz them Flim Flam brothers was runnin' that game." She fought the urge to spit angrily out the side of her mouth. "I mean... why would a woman like Vignette Valencia even hire some rapscallions like those two?" She blinked hard. "Never mind, y'all. I just answered my own question."
The group laughed again.
"Let's not be too hard on Valencia, AJ," Sunset Shimmer stated. Her beautiful eyes reflected a spectral array of flashing ride lights that rotated high overhead. "She's changed for the better. Really, she has. And, technically speaking, she's still our friend."
"Yeah... well..." Applejack cracked her neck muscles casually. "She's a friend to some of us more than others."
"Fair enough."
"Speakin' of friends to Valencia..." Applejack's eyes narrowed as she scanned the local flashing scenery. "...where'd Rarity scamper off to?"
"She went to go use the Little Fashionista's Rooooooom!" Pinkie Pie melodically declared in mid-skip.
"She's been gone for an awful long while," Twilight declared, glancing at Sunset with a nervous expression. "You suppose she's feeling okay?"
"You kidding?!" Rainbow barked. "The first moment Rarity stepped through the ticket booth to this place, I'm surprised she didn't upchuck diamonds!"
"Rainbow..." Fluttershy chided, glaring over the yellow crown of her Minion.
"Hey hey hey—I know." Rainbow waved a hand as her eyes rolled. "Rarity's better than that. But still..." She pointed at the banner overhead—which had since snapped loose from one of its support cords, obscuring part of the painted words. "...the Oats Creek Fair doesn't exactly gel with her Carousel Boutique Blood."
"I'm sure she's just taking her sweet time," Sunset Shimmer declared. "You know how fastidious Rarity can be."
"Even still... mrmmff..." Fluttershy fussed, nearly losing grip of the minion. "...if we don't hear from her in the next ten minutes..." Another huff as she tried to readjust the large plushie. "...hmmph... maybe we sh-should call her cell phone?"
"Do you want me to carry that for you, Fluttershy?" A male voice asked.
"Guhhh!" Fluttershy hopped aside, eyes wide. Within seconds, she relaxed, clutching the squishy cartoon character to her heaving chest. "Oh! Flash! I-I almost f-forgot you were here."
Flash Sentry smiled gently in her direction, keeping in stride with the girls. In truth, it was the first time he had said anything in nearly half-an-hour. The moment he saw Fluttershy looking uncomfortable—though—the young man felt the need to speak up. "That thing looks awfully heavy. I can hold it for a bit if you like."
"Oh! Uhm... no, Flash. I mean... thank you, but I-I'm fine..." Fluttershy let loose a few heavy breaths. "I can handle it."
"You sure?" He kept his voice low—having long learned the "appropriate" tone to softly approach Fluttershy with. "It's no trouble."
"This place is..." Fluttershy squirmed in mid-step, her shoulders becoming slightly hunched as her eyes darted left and right. "...very crowded with..." A gulp. "...st-strangers." She smiled, squeezing her arms tighter around the plush. "I-I could use something to hug while I'm here."
Flash chuckled, nodding. "Sure thing, then."
"That's super duper nice of you to offer, Flashie!" Pinkie chortled with a proud wink.
"Yes, Flash." Sunset smiled at her former boyfriend. "You've been really patient with us tonight. Especially after helping us carpool here."
In truth, Flash Sentry had simply offered days before—when he first learned that the girls were going to the Oats Creek Fair. He had overheard that Applejack's older brother was going to be too busy running errands that week to lend the use of the family truck. Flash always felt self-conscious for how expensive and show-offy his car was, so it somehow felt fitting to use it for the betterment of others—especially seven serene others who deserved all the love and respect that could be given in a place like Canterlot, a township that they had magically saved ten times over.
Generally speaking, Flash had developed the habit of... making himself available to these young ladies. He was their friend, after all. There was mutual respect to be had between them, despite an ounce of awkward history (with only one of the femmes, but even that was one hundred and twenty-five percent resolved). Somehow, doing nice things to assist the gaggle of Canterlot High's finest made Flash feel like he was contributing positively to the universe, and it was very little bother whatsoever to give one girl a ride to the library or lend the other girl a few textbooks to get through the week or mow the lawn just outside of Carousel Boutique with expectation of nothing in return—okay, maybe some lemonade.
This night was no different. Flash spent the bulk of it walking closely beside the girls, helping pass out their tickets at the front entrance, finding spots to grab a bite to eat. He even found himself striding tall and intimidatingly whenever the group shuffled past a cluster of particularly unsavory characters. In truth, Applejack had more muscle in her and could very easily toss a dozen men—Flash included—over the furthest fence that surrounded the carnival. Nevertheless, very few people knew of the girls' magical strengths, and Flash took the opportunity to reduce the group's undue stress... especially Fluttershy's.
"It's the least I can do," Flash found himself saying with a humble, happy shrug. Emphasis on happy, although he wore it well beneath a calm, unflinching smile.
"You poor little rascal." Applejack tipped her hat in the boy's direction. "Playin' chaperone with a bunch of gabby-gals. Bet you wish you was off enjoyin' Call of Fortcraft on yer Nintendo Xstation or somethin'."
Yet again, Flash chuckled. "Are you kidding? I wouldn't trade this evening for the world."
"Ya sure about that, buddy?" Rainbow Dash tilted a squinting expression at him. "You've been quiet all this time. Even when I was owning those stupid dolls back there, you just stood aside with folded arms and said nothing! How could you possibly be having fun?"
"Rainbow..." Applejack stifled a groan. "Just because somebody ain't cheerin' for you at any given second of the day dun mean they ain't havin' fun!"
"Well, they could be having more fun!"
"Heheheheh..."
Flash Sentry took a deep breath, mulling over a reply with a tender, rosy smile. The world around them was chaotic, loud, and headache-inducing. But—standing close enough to the girls, bathed in the aura of their mirth and tickled by the hint of their perfume—he felt like he was floating on another plane. It was a far better, fairer, more heavenly sensation than anything else he could have been experiencing that very moment... especially by himself.
If there's anything that the past few years had taught Flash, it's that being alone sucked. The fact that so many young women were sincerely ready and willing to call him "friend" was a blessing he wasn't fixing to pass up. And it's not that he liked hanging around the feminine group in order to ogle them like a perv. He admired the whole gigglish gang on a fundamentally emotional level. In fact, he had long lost all fixed angles of longing for any single one of them—even Sunset, whom he had come to accept as a platonic acquaintance and nothing more.
They were beautiful. They were virtuous. They were friendship personified, and being in their presence—and so accepted to boot—made Flash feel better about himself... almost as if he was another person. A better person. A person befitting a pretty, innocent, lovely world like theirs. In fact, as silly as it would have been to say out loud, being with these beautiful companions sometimes made Flash feel as if he was just another one of the—
"Girls!" The air shook with opulent octaves.
Six perfect heads of hair turned—plus Flash's—to face a dainty figure scampering towards them... as fast as a human being might "scamper" in high heels. Huffing and puffing, Rarity labored to reach them from across a sea of benches littered with funnel cake crumbs. She paused a few times to catch her breath, like a prison inmate tied to a ball and chain. Or—in her case—it was her trademark purse: a ridiculously huge white handbag studded all over with purple "gem" accents. It was practically a fourth the mass of the fashionista herself, and the glossy accents of the overwrought accessory glittered with the twirling lights of the thrill rides that flanked that particular section of the carnival.
"There... you... are..." Rarity lurched into their presence, fanning herself from what must have been a half-mile run to get there. Her slinky cream autumn gown stood out against the rural bric-a-brac of the festive surroundings. "I thought... I would... never find..." She gulped hard, painted eyes faint. "Just.. give me a second, darlings..." She reached out blindly for the sturdiest thing to lean on—which turned out to be Applejack's shoulder. "Oh, good gracious! I never want to go through that again!"
"I don't want you to go through it again either!" Fluttershy whimpered, hugging the plushie tightly as she grimaced at the poor woman. "And I wasn't even there with you!"
"Hit a few rocks and shoals on the quest for a perfect restroom break?" Twilight asked slyly.
"There are—like—a gazillion port-a-potties all along the line to enter this place!" Pinkie Pie cackled, pointing nebulously eastward. "Do you mean to tell us you missed every single one of them?! Are you potty-blind?!?"
"Blazes, no!!!" Rarity thundered, somehow sounding like a harmonic diva despite her full-fledged anger. Eyes as hard as sapphires sliced the air between the group. "I would rather be eviscerated by ravenous otters than subject myself to one of those plebeian, uncouth, disease-ridden filth-pits!"
"Uhm..." Fluttershy tried lifting a finger. "Actually, otters don't prey on—"
"A lady only uses facilities that are suited for her!" Rarity upturned her nose. "And—I'm sorry—but nothing here will do!"
"Then..." Sunset's brow furrowed. "How did you... I-I mean where did you—?"
"Don't tell me!" Rainbow slapped her own forehead in disbelief. "You got into the car and drove all the way until you found a gas station to make water in!"
"Rainbow Dash!" Rainbow scoffed. "Don't be ridiculous!" A slow, calm breath. "... ... ...I drove briskly into town and entered Barnes and Noble."
"Ughhhhhhhhhh..." Rainbow Dash nearly slumped to her knees from the weight of her cringe. "Rarityyyyy! Are you totally cray-cray?! That's... like... ten miles! To and back!!!"
"Whew... had me worried for a second there," Applejack nevertheless spoke with a smirk aimed at the others. "I was afraid she had booked a hotel room for ten minutes of outhouse time." An inward chuckle. "Make that inhouse time."
"Well, I did buy the latest issue of Sunhats Quarterly from the magazine section as a way of showing my gratitude for the use of their facilities," Rarity said, calmly examining a bracelet or two on her shapely, womany arms. Within the next blink, she was reaching effortlessly into her glittery handbag to examine her makeup through a compact mirror. "I may be a woman of standards, but I shan't forget the finer aspects of gratitude."
Rainbow looked thickly at the others. "Can anyone seriously believe this girl? None of the rest of us have trouble using the crappers here."
"I sure don't!" Applejack exclaimed, shaking her head.
Twilight shrugged. "No trouble here."
"Personally, I find that all challenges matter to very little when you go beyond 'Here's a patch of hay; now lift your tail,'" Sunset said, staring into the swirling lights of the carnival around them. After a few seconds of localized silence, the redhead cleared her throat. "Sorry. I kinda zoned out for a second there."
"What if you got lost along the way back or something?!" Rainbow's voice cracked as she frowned at Rarity. "There's seven of us here! How would you expect the rest of the gang to get back home?!"
"Oh, I would certainly pay you back for the Uber charge, darling," Rarity hummed, patching up a spot of purple lip gloss with a flick of an artist's wrist. She kissed at the air before the compact mirror and smiled contentedly at herself. "Besides... even if I were to fall off the face of the earth..." She slapped the clamshell thing shut and winked across the way. "...you've got our resident knight in shining armor to drive you home in a pinch, isn't that right, Mr. Sentry?"
Rarity's purse had an glossy indigo trim—much like the material one might see lining the seat cushions of retro 50s diner seats. It dazzled with a million tiny starry specks, and a hint of the handbag's interior lining suggested a soft velvet burgundy texture—like lush carpet—and undoubtedly scented with something regal and alluring.
"Flash...?"
The fake leather "quilted" surface was alabaster—somewhere between eggshell and Rarity's own snow-white skin tone—and the opal-colored plates that fastened the handles to the main body of the accessory perfectly matched the azure accents on the hem of the fashionista's skirt, especially in the waning moonlight—
"Are you feeling quite alright, darling?" The moment was eclipsed by the bending of Rarity's concerned face.
"...!" Flash's eyes lifted up. "Yes! Feeling uber! I-I mean—wonderful!" He smiled, face twitching.
Before Rarity could say anything—
"Well, you've arrived back here just in time, Rare-Rare!" Rainbow Dash chirped. "Because—from the looks of it—the line's gone empty!"
Rarity stifled a dainty yawn. "The line to what, Rainbow?"
The athlete spun twice before melodramatically stretching both of her arms at a hulking automaton of twirling metal. A lopsided rotary mechanism repeatedly spun at oscillating degrees, and upon each pronounced dais of the ride there horizontally spun a four-seated compartment encased in steel like a rusted egg from Tartarus—all filled with screaming, gleeful youths upon the precipice of vomitous orgasms.
"Behold!" Rainbow cyclops'd. "The Silver Stirrup Scrambler!" A wicked smirk grinch'd at the end of that bombastic introduction. "The annual pride and joy of the Oats Creek Fair!"
"Aaaaaaaaaaaand..." Fluttershy turned one-hundred-and-eighty-degrees, hugging her Minion. "...I am out."
"Awwwwww Fluttershyyyyyyy!" Rainbow stomped her foot. "Come on! You promised you'd go on it!"
"No..." Fluttershy turned about just long enough to frown. "I promised you that I would attend this slightly-frightful carnival... not ride on something that will either kill me or traumatize me for life or both." Just as swiftly, her scowl transformed into a warm, glittery smile. "Besides... there's an hour left to the petting zoo! 'Twilight Tickling'—as the pamphlet calls it!" She giggled liberally. "Word has it, the fairgrounds here boast the world's only domesticated cassowary! Feathertoes!"
Twilight Sparkle gasped in pure ecstasy, her glasses nearly fogging. "An actual Struthio casuarius?! And docile?!" She skipped over to join Fluttershy's side, whipping a notepad and pen out of her skirts' pocket to take notes. "This I've gotta see for myself!"
Sunset Shimmer shrugged and followed suit. "I'm going wherever Twilight's going."
"Pffft..." Rainbow rolled her eyes as the three sauntered off on their own. "Of course you are."
"Dun get all mopey, sugarcube!" Applejack rested a hand on her shoulder, smirking. "All the more room for us to scream our heads off, ya reckon?!"
"Yeahhh!" Rainbow Dash pumped a fist. "Now that's the spirit, girl!"
Applejack winked. "Bet I can holler longer than you!"
"You're on!" Rainbow Dash fingergun'd back. "At the moment we start spinning, we let out a lung-ful!"
"Last one to pass out wins!"
"Darn tootin'!"
"Wooohooo!" Pinkie Pie launched herself between the two girls, hugging both with opposite arms. "Sign me up!"
"Guh!" Rainbow Dash grimaced, wriggling out from beneath the party girl's armpit. "You get in the next car, Pinkie! I'm tired of getting your floofy hair whipped in my face on every thrill ride!"
"Whatever floats your daredevilish boat, Dashie! Screaming cooks up an appetite, and I'm famished for some fried cinnamon sticks once this is over!"
"Heh..." Applejack chuckled. "At least she's doin' it in the right order, for once!"
"Hey Rares!" Pinkie smiled over at the fashionista. "You hoppin' on this thing with us or what?!"
"Hah!" Rainbow scoffed. "Don't be a ditz, Pinkie! There's no way in heck that Rarity would set foot on this—"
"The Silver Stirrup Scrambler?!?" Rarity squished her makeup'd cheeks with her dainty hands and smiled, eyes-all-a-starry. "Ohhhh how absolutely exquisite an experience that would be!"
Rainbow Dash nearly pratfalled. "Whoah—Rarity... are you actually serious?!"
"Why, of course I am, darling!" Rarity cooed. "I used to ride something quite similar to this way back at the Trottingham School Fair when I was just a little seamstress-in-the-making! Squee! Such precious memories..."
"Uhhhh..." Applejack held the dying urge to guffaw. "That there was simple kiddie ride stuff, Rarity. But this thang?" She pointed at the flickering metal contraption still-full-of-screaming-victims. "Ya do know that this has been outlaw'd as a form of execution in seven countries."
"Oh, don't be so melodramatic, Applejack." Rarity switched shoulders with her megapurse and waved a womany wrist. "I'm in greater control of my stomach's faculties than you think."
"She'd better be," Rainbow droned quietly. "Or else that's a lonnnnng trail of bile all the way to Barnes and Noble."
"What are we waiting for?!" Pinkie motioned her whole arm towards the line. "Saddle up, Susan!"
"I... can't," Rarity whimpered defeatedly.
"Why not?!" Rainbow blinked.
"Because..." Rarity pouted, her eyes watering slightly. "...I don't want all of my precious belongings to get flung to the four corners of the earth!"
A beat.
"What?" Pinkie arched an eyebrow. "Did you forget to bolt your pancreas to your abdomen this morning?"
"I don't get it..." Rainbow scratched her head. "What's the problem—?"
"It's her dayum purse," Applejack grunted.
"Oh for crying out—!!!" Rainbow's eyes began rolling.
"Now don't you start, Rainbow!" Rarity hugged the humongous handbag in question. "I'll have you know that I brought my most essential of essentials with me tonight and I shan't let the chaotic laws of physics get them all into the grubby hands of the desperate knaves who run this amusement armageddon!"
"Rarity, it was you who chose to put your 'essential essentials' into danger by lugging that friggin' horse carriage of a bag with you to this place to begin with!" Rainbow squawked.
"And watch who you're callin' knaves!" Applejack folded her arms with a huffy blush. "My cousin Stemswallop runs a joint like this not that far out of Fillydelphia!"
"Yeah!" Pinkie Pie clenched her jaw tight. "And I like maple syrup on honey-toasted almonds!"
"... ... ...Pinkie, we weren't even talking about dessert," Rainbow murmured.
"So what?" Pinkie shrugged. "It's true!" She hung off of Rainbow and Applejack's shoulders, smiling. "I love maple syrup on honey-toasted almondsssssss!"
"Ugh..."
"Meh..."
"Heeheehee—!"
"Well..." Rarity adjusted the bag around her shoulder once again like a warrior with nunchucks at the ready. "...as much as I'd love to experience my thrill of the evening, a refined lady such as myself simply must make sacrifices every now and then."
"Rarityyyyyyy..." Rainbow rasped. "Come onnnnnn! Live in the moment!" She smiled hopefully at her fashionable friend. "Can't you just... y'know... putitasidesomewhere—?"
Rarity was already full of shrieks before Rainbow finished mumbling. "Heavens, no! And let my things get picked apart by the rats of the countryside?! And I don't mean the vermin!"
"I'm sure they've got some holdin' area around here," Applejack said, vaguely looking around the strobing vicinity. "Didn't we pass a locker room or somethin' along the way here?"
"No doubt festering with whatever was left behind by the animals that slept in this spot before they even erected the tents!" Rarity spewed.
Pinkie shrugged. "Why not get somebody to hold it for you while you ride?"
"Oh, I wish I could." Rarity blew out the side of her mouth and gazed woefully at the earth. "Usually, I would press such a thing upon Fluttershy—the nice soul. But I'm not about to traipse all the way to the petting zoo and back just to burden her with more than she's already been overencumbered with."
Pinkie pointed at the one testosteronical outlier in this scene. "What about Flashie?"
Flash Sentry blinked.
Rarity blinked.
"Uhhhhhh..." Rainbow was on the edge of chuckling. "Pinkie, of all the dumb ideas, that's about the absolute—"
"Sure," Flash found himself saying without hesitation. "I can do that. No problem."
"Whoah." Rainbow blinked. "What." She blinked again. "Really?"
"Whoah. What. Really?" Rarity repeated.
Flash shrugged. "Sure, why not? You want to enjoy the ride but you don't want to lose your stuff. I'm here. It's cool."
"But... but..." Rarity squinted. "Don't you want to ride, darling?"
Flash wasn't one to admit it, but he hated thrill rides. Especially spinning ones. It was more of a matter of motion-sickness than cowardice. Flash didn't want to throw up—especially in the vicinity of his friends. It was gross and stress-inducing and he hadn't the patience for any of that nonsense. As for other aspects of the proposition—
"More... to the point..." Rainbow spoke up, fighting the mother of all amused grins. "It's... uh..."
"Not tryin' to sound simple-minded or nothin'..." Applejack scratched her golden head under her hat. "But if Big Mac was here and some lady tried askin' the poor feller to hold her dag-gone purse—dun matter how pretty of a supermodel she is—he'd just about run for the hills! Screamin'!"
Pinkie tapped her chin. "Really?"
"Friggin' duh!" Rainbow looked across the way. "You just... don't ask a dude to hold a girl's purse! That's a golden rule! It's written in... like... a book somewhere. The book of purses. Meh. I dunno. Daring Do carries a satchel. Anyway's, it's still totally true—"
"Pfft! Pah! Puh!" Rarity marshmallow'd in every direction, flicking a finger with each pronunciation. Once her eyes had finished rolling, she set them prettily beneath fluttering eyelashes. "Don't be ridiculous, girls! If a gentleman wants to be a gentleman, who are we to discourage his good, handsome conduct?" She then piroutted on a heel, gazing up at Flash Sentry as she practically sang through pursed lips. "Oh Flash... would you be so kind as to let me trouble you with such a brief burden? After all, you are a trustworthy, stalwart soul—who has proven himself time and time again to be the epitome of good chivalrousness—and I promise that fate will smile kindly upon you!"
Flash Sentry leaned back from her perfumed face. He smiled delicately, relishing in the brief shadow afforded by the lights of the ride dimming as it let its previous passengers off, or else his flushed expression would have been exposed to the cosmos.
"S-sure thing, Rarity! I mean... eheheh..." He shrugged both arms out. "What's the big deal—???"
Fwumppp! The weight of something massive and leathery slithered its dubiously-consensual way over his right forearm.
"Fabulous!!!" Rarity cheered, having relieved herself of the gargantuan girth of girl. Free as a feather, she struck a victorious pose. "Onward to inertia, then!" Just as quickly, she shifted gears to silky, leaning in to give Flash the most platonic of pecks on the cheek—it was nevertheless as sultry as sin in its moist application. "Muah! I will not forget your generosity, darling—" Just then, her eyes bugged. "Good heavens! Don't move a muscle!" She then thrust her hand wrist-deep into the very same purse tethered between them. Within two seconds, she had expertly procured a tissue which she proceeded to wipe Flash's cheek clean with. "A thousand pardons. I suppose I did add one one layer too many of the lip gloss tonight." She winked playfully. "Wouldn't want you coming home to mother with such a pretty stain, mmm?"
A shrill whistle lit the air.
"Move your keister, Rares!" Applejack hollered, rushing with Rainbow Dash to board the ride.
"Comiiiing!" Rarity crumpled up the tissue and shoved it back into the purse before skipping gaily away. "Will only be a second, Flashie, dear!"
"Wooohooo!" Pinkie cheered her along until the two were frolicking arm in arm. "That's it, Rarity! You CAN do ETTT!" Both were a flighty flock of giggles—until the metal sarcophagus egg of the contraption encased them both.
"Woohooo!" Rarity's muffled voice echoed from deep within. "Scramble us! Scramble us good, you brutish machine, you!"
"Heeheehee!"
The carnival operator yanked a lever. Lights flickered to life. The hydraulics hissed as the metal plane of the ride began to wobble and swiver. Or perhaps none of the above. Or perhaps all of it. Whatever. Flash could hardly pay attention...
...for he was suddenly possessed with the herculean task of finding a way to hold the hulking purse without his upper body snapping in twain. Somehow Rarity was able to manage, and she was a veritable wasp-waist of a woman—at least it looked that way whenever she wore a pencil skirt. Especially with that complimentary soft-blue blouse that looked good in the glow of a studio lamp. Oh, and those shiny black heels with the charcoal gray soles that looked liked they were polished to a delightful shine every hour of every day—
Flash Sentry cleared his throat. He stood up straight; his spine instantly shrieked for mercy. He compensated by holding his left leg out at thirty or so degress and pivoting his upper body weight. But the bag tugged all the more at his usually-durable wrist, threatening to shatter his limb at the elbow. In trying to naturally counterbalance the bastard mass, he found his extremities aching all over.
Just how did girls do this all the time?
Flash fussed and chewed on his lip, pivoting like a slow-motion belly dancer in order to find the perfect pose.
Did they keep a forklift somewhere among the makeup kit and coin purse? It would certainly explain the weight of the damnable thing.
A calm breath escaped the boy's lips as he tried to maintain the same handsome veneer with which he first agreed to do the selfless deed. At long last, he discovered the perfect acrobatic feat to make it work. He leaned his hip towards one side and his purse-limb towards the other side, hooking the arm so that it came back around and rested on the outer lip of the galactic handbag. This freed his lungs to relax, and he relished in the opportunity to rest his loose hand against his jutting hip.
The young man smiled victoriously at the end of his accessory adventure.
"... ... ..."
Flash suddenly began sweating. This was in large part due to the figures marching past... more specifically the random passerby's who were not-so-randomly staring daggers at his swanky figure locked in an undeniably effeminate pose. Mothers blinked like they were surfing through a fog. Fathers cracked their necks in how hard they pretended to look away from the man-purser. Girls' faces twisted in contorted cringe while boys snickered and smiled mischievously at each other, adrift in a forest of stealthily pointing fingers.
A cold shudder ran up and down Flash's bent spine. He looked down at himself—at the angles he adopted—noting how perfectly they mimicked a scantily-clad lady of the night parked beneath the lamppost of some red light district. He coughed hard, allowing the vibrations of the breathy outburst to shake his limbs loose. Once again, the weight of the purse consumed Flash, but he let it drop—dangling to full length until it hung like a loose noose beside his legs... and ultimately behind them. Swaying between his figure and the height-requirements-sign at the entrance to the scrambler meant that the handbag was being properly, righteously hidden from the view of society.
But he didn't relish in this for long. Flash frowned at himself, suddenly afflicted with a queer sense of guilt.
It somehow didn't feel right to hide the fact that he was holding Rarity's purse. He didn't want to feel ashamed of helping her. Or—more to the point—appearing as though he was ashamed. After all, Rarity's comfort meant a million times more than Flash's own. In fact, that could be said of all the girls. Flash should have been proud of lending a hand—or in this case an entire skeletal structure.
So—with a deep breath befitting a pearl diver—Flash plunged back into the deed, swinging the wrecking ball of an accessory around until it hung at his knees. His eyes flickered wide for a brief moment of panicked gravity—as he felt his entire bent body tilting forward... plummeting(!). So he overcompensated by yanking the bag straight UP. The world froze as he heard the horrific rattle of the young woman's hyper-feminine contents rattling—fragile and unseen—loosely within. Stifling a high-pitched yelp, he flung both arms forward and caught the entire dayum thing like an infant thrown from a cliff. He winced as he felt the contents clattering to a stop, each minor vibration punctuating through him like minigun bullets. The air billowed with the fwoofy scent of jasmine and lilacs... and then the localized atmosphere of the handbag settled back to the immediate vacuum of space situated in front of the young man's palpitating chest.
Flash clenched his teeth, his knees locked together. He glanced left and right—but no longer did he notice anyone... noticing him. It seemed that so long as he held the purse in the most obtuse and nontraditional manner possible—hugging the infernal thing tightly to his chest like a glittery basketball—nobody's eyesight crossed his figure to so much as pay the young man and his situation mind. He could have been securing a satchel of the night's closing fireworks, for what anyone knew... or cared. Or shoplifting gold bars.
But his mind no longer lingered on whether or not he was being gawked at. Flash could still feel the th-thump of a worried pulse clambering through his ears. He had just inadvertently given Rarity's handbag a massive shake, and there was no telling what precious, pretty, or prissy-pertinent things he might have horribly shattered deep within.
Wasn't that the exact same horrible tragedy that Rarity was attempting to avoid when she frolicked—purse free—onto the Silver Stirrup Scrambler to begin with???
And now Flash had transformed his act of Good Samaritanism into a blatant Wreck-It-Ralphism.
The least he could do was make sure that no damage was done...
So, with a nervous sheen of sweat, the young man tilted his nose downward...
...and gazed deeply into the flowery abyss.
The flowers gazed back: Flash saw the shine of a tiny wallet's zipper in the lights of the whirling scrambler behind him. The container-within-a-container was plastered all over with pastel designs of diamonds, pearl necklaces, siamese cats, and tiny eiffel towers. Next to it there lay—not one—but three compacts. One looked like a veritable clamshell and the other two were rounded like daisies in full bloom. There was another wallet-thingy that... seemed to be filled with pencil and brush thingies: a makeup kit, Flash deduced.
Everything appeared to be in good order, but—for whatever reason—Flash found himself gazing even still, like a deer in rose-tinted headlights. Somewhere deep beyond the unfathomably dense layer of tissue packets and throat lozenges and phone chargers and brush handles there loomed a color... a color that had a scent. It reached deep into the boy's sinuses, tickling and hypnotizing, until he found his eyeballs absorbed in the soft velvet inner walls of the bag, like the salmon pink yawn of a venus fly trap. And somewhere amidst the numb pallid buzzing, with gravity sobbing a thousand useless miles behind him, Flash Sentry tricked the tiniest of nerve hairs, and the spring was fatefully snapped.
He didn't even have the wherewithawal to flinch when the floral-printed tentacle scarves shot out from the belly of the purse and ensnared his wrists in their silky binding.
"What." It was the last masculine tone to ejaculate from his throat, and with the force of a reverse bullet Flash Sentry was being viciously yanked down the nylon esophagus of the massive purse, diving head-first with a mute scream past lipstick containers, pantiliners, cans of mace, tampons, egg-shaped cannisters of hosiery, and a thousand-million clusters of forever-lost exact change. In an explosion of pennies—and other things beginning with the letter "p"—Flash Sentry burst upon a brand new horizon. A fiery sun greeted him along with a chorus of angelic falsetto voices, cooing and serenading and giggling all at once. Fluffy pink clouds joined him in flying formation, then burst apart chortling with a fine lavender mist. The fragrance intensified, stronger than any perfume and more glamorous than any department store ever. A lush landscape formed, plush like a quilt, shiny like the bedspread of a schoolgirl's bedroom, swirling with every pastel shade of a sassy rainbow. Unicorns galloped beneath Flash's flight as he soared past mermaids performing triple cannonball flips into pools of strawberry sherbet.
Flash's eyes squinted against the rose-scented wind, forming tears that turned to diamonds, forming a crystalline trail of twirling faerie dust behind him. The scarves tugged even harder at his wrists and ankles, so that he glided spread-eagle like a kite, descending fluffily towards a hilltop full of daffodils, daisies, and dahlias. In the center there bloomed the largest flower of all, and Flash shrank like the pixie that he suddenly was, landing with the grace of a mother swan. As soon at his naked knees touched down, he gasped to find that he was stripped bare of everything except his underwear—which was rapidly turning pink. And lacey. By the time the cotton had microfibered into a brand new fashion, the scarves were pinning him to the flower, binding his extremities to the petals—until the feather-soft blades rolled inward, obscuring the rosy sunlight as they pressed all over him to form a fine paste mask that covered every patch of skin, orifice, and stretch of hair to be had. There was barely a pocket for Flash to scream through, but soon that too was filled—sloshing and oozing like the amniotic fluid of rebirth, and by the time he had blinked the second cascade of moisture out of his eyes he realized he was no longer himself, except that he was... only prettier.
"What," someone repeated, and it was several octaves higher than he previously remembered, just as his lungs possessed several square inches less than he previously remembered. Flash swallowed past the void of an adam's apple and looked down at himself, but before he could see anything that couldn't be presented on tumblr, he saw a swooshing swish of fabric fwoofing about his person, growing tighter... and tighter... and tighter until a baby pink corset snapped into place, Barbie-dolling his tender torso with an ironclad grip through whalebone cinches and white lace ribbons doing a quantum mechanical dance up and down the supple curve of his suddenly slender back.
And before his mind could so much as whimper in registration of this, Flash Sentry saw a brand new flower blooming—that in the shape of translucent lavender petals fanning outward from the laced fringes of his own ornate bodice. These pinkish sheets grew in length and density, evolving an elaborate trim, and gaining siblings in the shape of multiple layers of white and pinafore. The flightiness of the transformation literally lifted Flash from where he previously lay prostrate, until he succumbed to a brand new gravity, drifting gracefully like a fragile snowflake back up and through the inner layers of the purse, accompanied by songbirds and forest critters and every other pleasant creature that could sing in rapture of this divine beauty come and gone.
When Flash Sentry emerged from the handbag and back into the rural grime of the Oaks Creek Fair, a carpet of flowers billowed brilliantly beneath him like a protective cushion, laced with faerie lights and fireflies. The air crackled with a seraphim chorus as—at last—he touched down on sugarplum shiny heels, sparkling like the birth of a rose-tinted universe. His body had barely registered its own meager weight by the time the skirts of a majestic pink ballgown had solidified, flouncing and twirling over several see-through layers of porcelain smooth petticoats as white as a winter's morning. When at last he stood pigeon-toed and encased in so much silken beauty, he found his dainty arms enveloped in puffy pink shoulders accented with white lavender glitter that complemented the lace underlay of his tight bodice. At the very last moment, a long and loose braid of ocean-blue hair looped softly around his neck and came to a tingling stop over his silken collar, every well-conditioned follicle tinged with tiny-tiny flowers placed there by a thousand invisible articulate faerie hands.
A halo of rosy light enshrouded the magical moment—highlighting the fair figure's regal arrival upon the otherwise ugly scene. Mothers turned to gasp at Flash, their eyes wide and full of decades' repressed sparkles. Fathers gawked a little too long than was comfortable for them or their spouses. Girls gossipped hushedly and crossed their arms in sour jealousy while boys and young men gazed with flushed faces and shallow breaths.
Flash Sentry panted and panted, his silk-ensnared bosom rising and falling with tender squeaks emanating from some soft, squishy place nestled sacredly within. Everyone was gazing at him. He felt helpless, and he had to get away! He tried running in one direction, but his weak legs couldn't overcome the sheer mountain of petticoats that now flounced around him in a pastel perimeter, encompassing over two-thirds of his collective body weight. So he hiked up a length of skirt with one delicate hand while he raised the other one helplessly in the air, trying to scamper in one direction, then the next. He was accosted by a sea of gawking faces, and all of them scared his precious tender heart to the core. Tears welled up in the corners of Flash's sapphire eyes, and that's how he realized his fair face was awash in blush and eyeshadow, for it was starting to run, and the salty moisture carried the scent of lavender perfume rushing into his sniffling button-nose. He tried calling out for the girls—any of the girls—but all that rippled out of him was a high-pitched whimper, desperate and wanting, scared for his very life.
And that's when the giant fire-breathing dragon landed. THUDDD!
Carnies and attendees shrieked, diving in opposite direction to avoids the lash of its massive tail. The sky above the fair thundered as tents were plowed over and port-a-potties imploded from the beast's draconian limbs. Then—without much hesitation—the five-story-tall monster lunged straight after its dainty, princessy target. It ensnared Flash Sentry with a scaled hand-ful of savage meter-long claws, lifting him off the ground with a shriek and a twirl of petticoats like white comets against fire-tinged night.
The crowd ran every which way—screaming—as the dragon tore a burning path through the heart of the carnival. Speakers were knocked over with savage electric groans and one or two haunted houses burst into flames. At last—with a yelping Flash flailing his silk-gloved-hands every which way in the air—the beast carried its victim up the crumpling body of a ferris wheel and perched prominently at the highest point. There, it let loose a mighty roar, all the while tightening its reptilian grip on its prize. Nobody within eyesight dared take on the horrendous creature, despite how much Flash sobbed and pleaded for a savior.
But then...
Cloppity cloppity cloppity cloppity—
Flash gasped, cupping a laced hand to his cheek. He looked towards the horizon—where a glint of steel caught the moonlight at just the right angle to pierce his laced bosom and caress his beating heart. A gallant steed rode towards the chaotic scene, and straddling the warhorse there appeared an even more fearless soul, girded mightily in blue sheets of shining armor that complimented the rippling muscles currently gripping a turgid lance aimed straight for the dragon's jugular from afar.
People gasped, pointing at the suddenly-appearing hero in surprise and awe.
The dragon saw him too of course, and greeted the mysterious do-gooder's arrival with vomitous balls of burning plasma launched from his crackling throat. The smoldering projectiles flew in a sulfur-infused arch towards the charging savior, but the knight effortlessly smacked the volley this way and that with a casual swing of his shield.
Grumbling, the dragon spread its wings and prepared to fly swiftly away from the scene, abandoning the fight altogether.
But the hero was not having it. With a whip of his reins, he ushered his stallion into rearing upwards. He then proceeded to forward flip off his saddle, dodging another volley of flames in mid-air, and then landed in a sliding knee... upon the end of which he hurled his phallic weapon starward with a deep, guttural shout.
The lance sliced through the air—practically singing as it cut the wind—and soon it had lodged itself hilt-deep in the belly of the dragon, protruding out the other side with a splash of spinal fluid and screams. Smoke billowed out of the monster as it convulsed into a wyrmlike dance of twisted dismay, and soon all muscles had loosened up—including those commanding the claws to hold Flash tight.
So—in a flare of skirts—the princess fell towards the earth, shrieking the entire way...
...until a muscular figure in rattling armor leapt in at the right time to catch Flash's delicate figure. He landed soundlessly in the vigilante's grasp, light as a feather and white as a sheet. Curling up in the pink fabrics of his gown, he clung helplessly to the armored embrace of his savior, his delicate gloved fingers reaching blindly up, feeling, caressing in search of a touch.
A thick gauntlet gently clutched Flash's wrist back, steadying him—pent up sobs and all. Flash looked up, his eyes still laced with tears, his pink lips pursed.
With a suave swing of a muscular forearm, the knight raised his helmet's visor, revealing a chiseled face with piercing blue eyes. Flash's rescuer was young—but not too young. What's more, he was intimidating, yet gifted with a goofy smile. He was sweating, and yet a spicy musk permeated the otherwise awkward moment. Finally, his chin—curving into a luscious grin—carried with it a devilishly handsome forest of stubble, not enough to look unkempt but just enough to tickle through the fabric of Flash's glove. When the delectable slice of masculinity finally spoke, more like hummed—asking if Flash was "Alright, my gentle precious?"—he bore brittle shockwaves straight through Flash Sentry's bodice and soul... not in any possible way resembling Twilight Sparkle's older brother. Nope. Not in the least.
With a cooing breath, Flash Sentry clenched his teary eyes shut and threw his arms around his handsome rescuer. When he sobbed now, it was with indescribable joy. He wasn't the only one wetly giggling, for the entire carnival around him was now full of cheers, whoops, and festive hollers. When Flash reopened his eyes, everything had transformed into the florally-decorated town square of an anglican castle yard. Men in jet-black suits and maidens in long cream-colored gowns stood in lines outside of a church, waving and clapping and sometimes crying.
The shadow of songbirds passed overhead, dropping wreathes of flowers, and Flash saw that he was wearing a snow-white wedding gown. Still with puffy shoulders. He giggled. He clung tighter to his rescuer and newly-betrothed husband of twenty minutes before tossing a bouquet of flowers at the excited commoners all around. The handsome knight—having long traded his armor plating for a wedding tunic that was buttoned down to reveal more than a little bit of his chiseled pecs—bore a devil-may-care grin that leaned in to nuzzle and kiss his virgin bride between every other bounce and sway of the mane-braided horse carrying them gaily outward into the countryside.
At long last—as the sun set into a kissably-enchanting red hue—the newlyweds arrived at their cottage by a verdant forest and babbling brook. Without breaking a sweat, the knight leapt off his horse and kicked the front door open—all the while carrying his blushing bride through the threshhold. It wasn't long until they both approached a large plush bed with red silk sheets covered all over with rose petals. Spice-scented candles formed a penumbra of sultry light that embraced the two as the knight gently, lovingly lowered Flash Sentry to the bed.
Flash stared up at his handsome beau, face flushed, bosom heaving in the restricting silk barrier of his wedding gown.
The princely knight leaned over his prize, taking a century to lower his massive body down, eyes locked the entire time that gravity claimed the two of them, until at long last his stubbled mouth opened and he devoured Flash. Simply devoured him with a kiss for all ages.
Flash whimpered, reaching two trembling hands up and kneading the chest of his conqueror. Before he could pronounce the breathless plea that trickled at the end of his tender tongue, his lover reached two meaty hands down and ripped his bodice into a spray of lace and buttons. Flash yelped—both in fear and yearning—his goosebumps rippling across exposed snowy flesh in the candlelight. Soon, the knight's palms—and tongue—were exploring all over, stroking all over, possessing and owning all over... until Flash felt his skirts-upon-skirts being hoisted up and his legs instinctually spreading and two strong sets of fingers reaching for the lace waistband of his gossamer-thin pantaloons which by that time had been thoroughly dren—
"Woohoo! What a rush!"
"Yeeehaaa!"
"Smashing! Most smashing!" A delicate fashionista's hand gently grasped Flash Sentry's shoulder. "We're done, darliiiiiiing!"
"!!!" The young man jumped in place, nearly dropping the large purse from his shaking grasp. Thankfully, Rarity had casually reached in to grasp the bag and effortlessly loop the hulking thing around her petite shoulder. The sounds and smells of the Oats Creek Fair thundered back into place all around them.
"Oh, you can't tell how grateful I am that you gave me a chance to ride that most devilish attraction!" She giggled daintily into the back of her hand, taking an opportunity or two to examine her painted nails with a ladylike squint. And smile. "I suppose it's quite invigorating to enjoy an adventure now and again that doesn't require the implimentation of our magical geodes." She looked back towards the other three shuffling towards them. "Wouldn't you say, Rainbow Dash? Hmmm?"
"Yeah..." Rainbow urped, looking green in the face. "Magical... geodes..." She urped again, draping limply off of Applejack's shoulders. "Magical... super fast... barf bag..." She rolled her eyes as a drawn-out whimper escaped her throat. "Uguuuuuuu..."
"Heheheh..." Applejack patted the petite athlete's shoulder before winking at the girls. "Dun y'all worry none. I've got her."
"Must be your life's ambition, darling."
"Oh hush."
"Woooooooooooooo!" Pinkie Pie flew past them with her arms out like a living airplane. "Thanks for flying Scramble Airlines! Next stop... Honey-Toasted Almonds Cityyyy!"
"Reckon I could use a bite to eat myself after that!" Applejack said, marching after Pinkie with her limp friend in tow. "How 'bout it, Rainbow? Fancy yerself a funnel cake?"
"Unnngh... don't say... URP... caaaaaaake..."
Rarity giggled. "Ohhhh, Rainbow. How we love thee. All talk and no cup size."
"Uhhhhh..." Flash Sentry blinked, staring at his palms. The hard-lines of the weighted purse's strap had made immutable impressions into the skin of his hands. "I... uh..."
"Are you quite alright, Mr. Sentry?" Rarity blinked innocently at him. She carried her purse like she carried her beauty, with effortless pride and jasmine perfume. "You're looking somewhat... preoccupied."
"I... uh..." He gulped hard... then brandished a nervous smile in her direction. "...just glad you enjoyed yourself so much just now!"
A pause.
"Mmmmm-heeheehee..." Rarity leaned in and "kissed" the air beside his cheek, a gesture that assured that she wouldn't stain her friend's face with lipstick this time. "Has anybody ever told you, Flash..." She hooked arms with him as the two walked side by side to join their companions. "...that you are an absolute sweetheart?"
Flash shuddered for a breath, his voice cracking in a momentarily high octave. "It has occurred to me..."
Author's Note
