Bon Bon cursed the name of Sugar Belle as well as the name of that Celestia-damned mailmare as she hurried to the meeting spot at the edge of town. In the distance she could see the purple-maned unicorn mare and the white-coated unicorn filly both glaring at her impatiently under their saddlebags.
“You’re late!” Sugar Belle scolded in that scratchy voice of hers that somehow got more annoying every time Bon Bon heard it. “Do you know how much further I have to travel from Sweet Apple Acres to get here? How can you be the pony who's late?”
“Sorry,” Bon Bon grumbled. “Had an order that took more time than I thought.” Plus, I hate doing this, she thought, but that shouldn't have mattered. She used to be punctual to everything whether or not she liked doing them. But that part of her was starting to bend recently, with Lyra's bad influence being reinforced.
“Well now that you’re here, we can get started,” Sweetie Belle spoke up, holding a clipboard in front of her with her aura. “First order of business: We’re sending another formal letter of complaint to the Postmaster. I’ll need your signature again. Sugar Belle and I already signed it.”
She floated a pen over to Bon Bon, who took it with her teeth and signed the letter on the clipboard. Sweetie Belle took back the pen.
“I don’t see why we even bother with this,” Bon Bon grumbled. “Nothing will happen, just like last time.”
“Well, what choice do we have?” Sweetie Belle asked. “Confront her at the post office together? Don’t you remember what happened last time? We almost got run out of town!”
Bon Bon didn’t know what was more annoying: getting lectured by Sugar Belle’s scratchy voice or by a know-it-all filly.
“Yeah, everypony really loves her for some reason,” Sugar Belle said resignedly. “They think her being a mailmare is really cute and funny. They just can’t get enough of it.”
“Well, they’re not the ponies always getting their packages mixed up,” Bon Bon grumbled.
They had the same conversation every time they met. It was practically part of the protocol Sweetie Belle insisted on following for some reason, as if they were some sort of club.
“Second order of business,” Sweetie Belle intoned. “Mail exchange. Bon Bon, you’re first?”
Bon Bon opened her saddlebag and pulled out a thin book with her teeth. Sweetie Belle floated it to herself.
“I have to admit, I’m jealous,” commented Bon Bon. “I wish I was able to read Canbride in its original language. I’ve only read the Ponish translation.”
“You should really just learn to read Prench!” Sweetie Belle said brightly. “It has so many words in common with Ponish, it’s really easy to pick up.“
“You’re not the only pony to say something like that to me recently,” Bon Bon said, smiling.
Sweetie Belle idly turned the book over in front of her a couple of times before putting it in her saddlebag.
“You know, I still don’t even get why we get any of each other’s stuff. Is it because your name’s a candy? Or because your cutie mark is a candy, or something?”
“Oh, who knows what even goes on in that pegasus’s head?” Bon Bon shrugged. Hoping to change the subject: “Besides, that’s all I have this time.”
“Great,” said Sweetie Belle, automatically settling into her duty of continuing down the list. “Sugar Belle?”
“Oh, I’ve just got the cutest thing for you!” she said cheerily, pulling out three powdered mane-wigs from her bag with her aura.
“Are you and your little friends playing princess later? I’m sure I can convince Big Mac to let Applebloom have a sleepover!”
“It’s something for my theater troupe, actually,” Sweetie Belle said with a tired tone. “We’re putting on a tribe-flipped reinterpretation of Les juments savantes. I find the historical social critique to be a little on-the-nose but you can’t really expect to find unturned stones in a mid-Celestian work even if you’re reading it in the postmodernist lens.”
Sugar Belle smiled sweetly.
“Well, I hope you and your friends have fun with your little play. If it’s anything like the one you and Applebloom did that Big Mac told me all about I’m sure it’ll be just precious!“
“That was an early work!” the filly protested, flustered. “It has nothing to do with the quality of my output now!”
“Yes, and I’m sure you’ll blossom into a fine young playwright once you’re a little older!”
Sweetie Belle fumed at that, though Sugar Belle didn’t seem to notice.
“Oh, and this, too!”
Sugar Belle pulled out an ornate purple manebrush decorated with three diamonds on the handle.
“This isn’t for you but for your sister. My sister-in-law also wanted to ask if your sister could return her-”
“No!” Sweetie Belle shouted with pent-up frustration. “Like I said last time, I’m done doing stuff like this for those two! Also, you can use their names, you know!”
“Sweetie Belle!” Sugar Belle took that tone again that Sweetie Belle hated, that of talking down to a young foal. “Your sister is the one who did the breaking up this time! The least she could do is-”
“See, that’s the problem!” Her voice shifted back from being angry to tired. “You’re still taking sides because you haven’t seen all this play out between those two the exact same way ten times already.” She paused, then smiled wickedly. “Don’t worry, once you get a little older you’ll understand.”
Sugar Belle glared at her, and quietly put the manebrush back into her bag.
Know-it-all brat, thought Sugar Belle.
Empty-headed fillystine, thought Sweetie Belle.
Bon Bon admitted to herself that she was entertained enough by the exchange that putting up with Sugar Belle was well worth it. But it was up to her to move the process along again.
“Sweetie Belle?”
“Oh, right, my turn,” she said with considerably less stick-to-it-iveness than she had had at the start of the process. “I’ve got a lot of stuff this time.”
She started off with something that was all the rage among young foals these days, or rather, among parents buying toys for their young foals: a stuffed doll of Princess Twilight Sparkle, wings and horn and all. Sweetie Belle turned to Sugar Belle.
“Is this meant to be a birthday gift for Applebloom? I think she’s getting too old for this kind of thing.”
“That’s for me, actually,” Bon Bon said meekly. “It’s for Lyra. She… collects them now.”
“Oh, how fun!” Sugar Belle sparked, jumping at the chance to say something nice to the grumpy Earth pony. “Lyra’s such a free spirit! It must be nice being married to somepony who’s so in touch with her inner foal.”
“Sure, I guess you could say that,” Bon Bon half-grumbled.
“So, is it a surprise present for her or something? It’s so thoughtful of you to do that!”
“No…” Bon Bon trailed off, wishing she had lied earlier. “She just asked me to get it for her.”
The pause went on just a second longer than it should. Sweetie Belle interrupted the awkwardness.
“Well, this next one could really be for either of you. Some sort of a kitchen thermometer.”
“Oh, that one’s mine! Thank you!” Sugar Belle snatched it in mid-air with her aura. “It’s a baking thermometer for our new oven. I told Big Mac that the one we had was good enough, but he wouldn’t let himself rest until he got the bits to get us the latest and the best! It’s so nice to be with somepony who is so hardworking.“
“I wouldn’t be caught dead with that thing in my kitchen, anyway,” Bon Bon suddenly snapped. “A baking thermometer isn’t nearly accurate enough to tell the sugar stage correctly.“
The happy expression on Sugar Belle’s face vanished. Just what is that mare’s problem? It's bad enough with that shrill accent I can't stand.
“You know, you’re a lot more disagreeable when Lyra isn’t around,” Sugar Belle said with acid in her voice, stepping towards Bon Bon. “She really is your better half.”
“At least my better half isn’t too stupid to send a Hearts and Hooves Day gift correctly!” Bon Bon snapped back, stepping towards Sugar Belle in turn. “Who even sends a pie in the mail? That’s how this whole thing got started!“
"Don't you dare talk about my husband that way!" Sugar Belle glared, her horn glowing with magical energy.
Sweetie Belle rolled her eyes at just how familiar and tiring it was.
“That’s enough!” she yelled. “If I wanted to see two grown mares arguing like fillies, I’d get Rarity and Applejack back together!”
The two backed off, chastened by the filly less than half their age. But they were still staring daggers at each other.
Short-fused grouch, thought Sugar Belle.
Sweet-talking airhead, thought Bon Bon.
Sweetie Belle half-sighed, half-groaned.
“There’s only one more thing, and after this we won’t have to see each other for at least another moon. Hopefully longer this time.“
She pulled out an object that rolled out to reveal itself as an ornate riding saddle. Her face brightened, as if she was being reminded of what it was that she had been saving for last.
“It’s from this historical recreation specialty shop in Manehattan. My troupe gets props from there sometimes, but they’re really expensive.“
“That one’s mine,” Bon Bon tried to say as normally as possible, which just made her sound weirder. She took the saddle from Sweetie Belle in her mouth. She was dead inside now. Sugar Belle raised an eyebrow.
“Oh, and this came with it!” Sweetie Belle pulled out a plant-leather bridle. Bon Bon somehow died further inside as she took that in her mouth as well. She hurriedly stuffed both into her saddlebag, though in the rush she could not get them inside in a way where she could actually close the bag, thus prolonging the awkwardness as she fixed it. She looked up to see Sweetie Belle looking at her expectantly.
“So, when can I see you in it?”
“What!?” Bon Bon nearly screamed, horrified.
“In the one-mare play you’re working on!” Sweetie Belle said, excitedly. “I know you’re not part of any of the theater troupes around town, so it has to be a one-mare play in costume. Are you thinking of submitting it for Ponyville Fringe?”
“Oh!” said Bon Bon, relieved. “I mean, it’s a kind of performance, but it won’t be ready for that anything like that any time soon.” No, why in Tartarus did I word it like that? Ugh, I was so much better at lying when I was in the Agency.
“I understand! The first time showing your work to the outside world can be scary.” Sweetie Belle adopted the tone of voice she used often in the Cutie Mark Crusaders, which Bon Bon would have found intolerably condescending had she not been so embarrassed at the moment. “But sometimes all you need is just a little bit of encouragement! I could come over to your house later, and you can show it just to me. I give great notes! We could even just do a read-through if you’re not comfortable with a full performance yet.”
“No, it’s really okay,” Bon Bon said through gritted teeth. “Thanks for the offer, but this particular work is, uh, too personal and private for me to show it to anypony else. Ever.”
“Oh.” Sweetie Belle finally understood, and her face fell, disappointed. She did not know what what was worse: what such a high-quality prop saddle was really going to be used for, or the fact that she had not, in fact, found a new friend who shared her love and excitement for the theatrical arts.
Meddlesome filly, thought Bon Bon.
Hopeless pervert, thought Sweetie Belle.
“So…” started Sugar Belle. “I have a lot of work I need to help Big Mac with back home…“
“Oh, right,” said Sweetie Belle, her voice tired again. “Yeah, we’re done here. Meeting is officially adjourned.” There was a pause as if she dreaded saying the next part. “Same time next moon?”
“Sure, same time next moon,” Bon Bon answered. Sugar Belle nodded.
The three very different ponies went their separate ways, looking forward to the day when they would never have to do this again.
