Flim and Flam's Marvelous Build-A-Doll Machine
It was hideous. Atrocious! And they dropped it right at the entrance of town too.
Rarity huffed, seeing it sitting there. That… that awful thing! A long, metallic tunnel barely supported by scrawny legs. An endless number of bobs, dials, nodes, and wheels clinked and blinked on the outside of it. On either end were dark square entrances, vomiting out edges of a conveyor belt that must’ve run through the whole thing.
She could not believe Mayor Mare had granted those two con-ponies a permit for it.
Flim and Flam (devils, genuine devils) were humming innocuous tunes to themselves as they each fiddled away with different ends of the machine. They had a makeshift stand on one end, clearly slapped together overnight. On the other, a large crate holding… something or other.
She glared daggers at the whole display from where she stood. It was unconscionable to Rarity that this whole thing existed. Ponyville was a quaint, warm, happy town. It lacked in fancy polish, but made up for it with the rustic charm one could only get from something hoof-made. It did that charm no favors to scrubbed away by such brazen salesponies. And right where any potential visitors would be coming in from too. To think their first impression of the town could end up being this… ugly, ugly thing.
Rarity was going to fix this.
“You two!” she shouted at the cons.
Flim perked up. Flam whirled around.
“Well brother o’ mine, what did I tell you?” The mustacio-ed brother pointed to the mare stomping towards them. “We have our first customer already.”
“Excellent news, brother!” The clean-shaven one rushed out to join her.
“I’m not--ah!” Rarity was whisked forward, deposited at the machines midpoint.
“Welcome valued customer,” Flim stepped out before her.
“To the Flim Flam brothers--”
“--Marvelous (and patented) Build-A-Doll!”
“A Nonpareil Product,” Flam sped-spoke in a hushed tone.
“Build--” Rarity shook her head. Her curiosity was not worth her time. “Listen here you too charlatans, I don’t know what kind of scam you’re running here, but--”
“Ah, of course!” Flam cut her off. “I told you Build-A-Doll wasn’t as self-explanatory a name as you claimed, Flim.” His sibling frowned with legitimate disappointment. “My dear, this machine is the perfect device for all your toy related woes. Does your child have a birthday coming up with no gift in sight? No problem! With the Flim Flam Brother’s Marvelous (and patented) Build-A-Doll you can have a specialty-made high quality doll or plush of your choosing! Flim, a demonstration if you will!”
Rarity hadn’t processed half the words spoken. She merely followed Flim with her eyes as he zipped over the crate. With magic, he yanked a giant, limp, vaguely pony-shaped object. A small tear at the mid-section revealed a little stuffing poking out, revealing their nature to Rarity. Life-sized pony dolls. And poor quality ones at that.
From the stitched on eyes that looked like they could come apart at any moment, to the cheap brown fabric of the body, to ‘hair’ that could be charitably called that (she supposed), to a mouth she swore must’ve been drawn by marker, Rarity had to admit they looked pretty ghastly.
“First, you take a doll base like this. Add it to the Flim Flam Brother’s Marvelous (and patented) Build-A-Doll like so…” He plunked it on the conveyor belt without ceremony. “And!”
Dashing to the face of the machine, Rarity saw a little dial next to a screen. With a few turns it flashed to say BABY FILLY in green lettering. “Select your style of doll like this,” Flam explained for his brother. His magic then lit up two vacuum tubes on the top of the machine. “Then finally, add a little bit o’ magic annnnnd...” He clicked a button on the side.
The machine sputtered to life. The floppy doll chugged along on the conveyor belt until it disappeared inside the machine.
Loud, cantankerous noises erupted. The whole machine surged and warped and shook. The brothers began walking down the line, Rarity only assuming they were following the fate of the poor, unseen doll. She stumbled to catch up with them, arriving at the end of the line to see what popped out the other end.
With a microwave-esque ding, it appeared. A giant box, with a clear plastic front. The brothers stood it upright with their magic, assaulting Rarity’s eyes with the contents.
Poor doll indeed. It had been shoved into a hideous red, green, and white plaid dress. Bubble sleeves stopped short at the top of its forelegs, only for matching socks to snake up them to help finish the job. Similar socks swallowed its hind legs, with gaudy baby blue Mare-y Janes that matched none of the rest of the outfit. Going up to its head, more plaid. A bonnet swallowed it’s head. But that was for the best, seeing as how the ratty tufts had been forced into pin curls.
The only things that stood to make this ‘filly’ doll a ‘baby’ like the input originally said, was a poofy white diaper peeking out from under it’s skirt, and a pacifier shoved up against its mouth. And shoved was the correct word. With no actual opening, duct tape wrapped around the doll's head to keep it’s paci in place.
Rarity was traumatized just looking at the ensemble. It was (and Rarity was never one to use this term flippantly) The. Worst. Possible. Thing.
Unfortunately, the face she wore to express her trauma was mistaken for joy. Both brothers threw their hooves over her shoulders.
“I’d say she’s suitably impressed, Flim.”
“She’s speechless, Flam! Utterly speechless!” At least he got that part right.
But Rarity found her words quickly. “It’s… it’s terrible!”
“Terrible?”
“Egad!”
Rarity broke away from the two of them, approaching the box with disgust. “Look at this,” she pointed. “No concept of color theory, shoddy craftsmanship, a willing disregard for personal taste, and plaid. PLAID?!”
“Is plaid… bad?” Flam asked.
“Is it bad,” Rarity chuckled, amused at his question. “Is gangrene bad? Is first degree murder bad? Is polka-dot patterning bad?”
“Um… yes?”
“Wha-- of course yes! Do you live under a rock?”
“It was only for one night,” Flim managed.
“What are we going to do, brother?” Flam turned to him. “If our product is so easily seen-through-- er… ‘critiqued’, as it were, then we could be in big trouble here.”
“Oh please,” Rarity guffawed. “This is easy for the trained eye, but no pony in Ponyville other than the Rarity of Carousel Boutique has any knowledge of fashion. It’s a good thing I came out here to stop you when I did. Who knows how many of the common folk you would have managed to trick into purchasing one of… these.”
“Interesting.” Flim clicked his tongue.
“So you’re saying you and you alone have the power to sink our business prospect here?” Flam asked.
Rarity stood up a little straighter. She shouldn’t be proud to admit it, but: “Yes, I’m quite capable of doing that.”
“And without you, we’d be able to convince the more… small-minded parents of your town that the Build-A-Doll will create wonderful gifts for their little tots?”
“Well, I hate to speak poorly of my fellow townsponies, but… they are not so bright when it comes to sussing out high and low quality works.”
“Interesting.” Flim clicked his tongue again.
“Very interesting,” Flam agreed.
The two brothers shared a look, and unspoken conversation happening between them in mere seconds, the way only perfectly attuned siblings could manage.
“Rarity, dear, perhaps you could help us.” Flam had a hoof around her shoulder again, nudging her back to the front of the machine.
“Help?” she sputtered. She’d come here to run them out of town!
“An excellent idea. As you say, only you can tell what’s right from wrong in the fashion world here.”
“Only you,” Flam whispered in her ear.
“We need somepony of your skill, talent, and quality, to assist us. We have to make the finest quality product possible for our customers, of course.”
“You’re the key ingredient,” Flam added. “To take us from zero to hero!”
Rarity’s ego was tickled, ever so slightly. “Uh… well…” Perhaps if she assisted them, their product could turn out marginally better. Or even substantially better. They were right; she was that good.
And besides, it would be the more generous thing to do, now wouldn’t it? But maybe she could fish for a few more compliments first. “I don’t know…”
“Oh please, only a pony of your genius caliber is fit for the job.”
“Only somepony as wise and important as you could even make a difference!”
“Very well,” she resigned herself, giggling internally. It was so nice to be wanted, even if it came from less than desired sources. “What can I do to help?”
They stopped walking, now at the front of the machine. Flam indicated to the dark hole leading further into the metal beast. “Perhaps you could start by taking a look inside. See our design from up close, as it were.”
“Well, I don’t particularly know much about complicated mechanical… um… whatevers.”
“Oh, no no.” Flim waved his hoof dismissively. “A bold lady such as yourself would have no need to know of such things. We merely meant the design of the clothing we store inside. Just a quick peek will do.”
“Yes, we need your discerning eye to just take a quick look, and tell us where to start.”
“Ah, naturally.” Rarity said. “But you can’t just take the clothing out?”
“Uh… U-um..” A dumbfounded Flim sputtered for an excuse
“N-Not without disassembling the entire Build-A-Doll!” Flam interjected.
“Really?” Rarity cocked her head. That almost seemed hard to believe.
“Yes, well, complicated mechanical… whatevers, you know?”
Rarity was forced to nod her head. “Ah, well… fair enough.” She must’ve understood less than she thought about that kind of stuff then. Looking to the opening, she figured it wouldn’t be too difficult to poke her head in there. And if such minimal effort led to more praise, then who was she to complain?
She approached the opening and stood, forelegs bracing against the conveyor belt. Leaning over and squinting, Rarity found she couldn’t see inside.
“Try getting closer!” Flam’s magic suddenly picked her up and dropped her on the conveyor belt.
“Excuse me?!” How undignified to just pick up a lady like that. And after he’d been groveling so heavily to boot.
Flim’s magic came in and all but shoved her head inside. “Yes!” He said. “Just take a good look in there!”
“Watch it!” Rarity pushed back. She had been just about to use her own magic to make some light. She didn’t need to be forced in like this!
Suddenly, she felt something slip over her horn. A thin, cool ring. All at once, she froze, and realized she might not be using her magic anytime soon.
“Indeed, take a good look around in there.” Flam’s voice was tinny, now echoing off the metal walls inside the Build-A-Doll before reaching her ears. “And while you’re there… why not stay for a while?”
Rarity heard the click of a button.
And the machine roared to life.
“NO!”
Flim’s magic let her go, but Rarity only had a second of freedom. As she struggled to gain her bearings, light’s flashed on, blinding her.
She brought up a hoof to shield her eyes, but a thin metal clamp chomped down on it. “Wh-What?”
Another on her other forelegs. Then both her hindlegs. “Wait, stop!”
They held her in place as the conveyor belt moved along. Rarity struggled, but despite the slipshod look of the creaky arms, they managed to hold her firm. And try as she might, she couldn’t call her magic, just like she feared. Those ruffians had slipped an inhibitor ring on her!
A bright light suddenly flicked on above her head, accompanied by a loud buzz: PADDING STATION.
Rarity was confused, until new clamps brought something down into her view. A white square with puffy pink frills on it. The arms unfolded it to reveal a patterned diaper!
“NO!” Rarity cried as the arms came for her waist. More kicking and flailing did no good. “Stop it, please!”
The machine didn’t hear her. How could it? It simply treated her roughly, slapping the diaper over her flank and folding it up too tight for comfort. Rarity screamed as the snug padding contorted around her derriere. The tight squeeze made it painfully cushy. Her face twisted into disgust as the infantile garment was taped down. Thrusts from her hip did no good to dissuade the machine. It made sure she was nice and taken care of, like a mother would to make sure her foal’s diaper wouldn’t come off.
“You brutes!” Rarity cried out, now thoroughly padded. “You fiends!”
The machine lifted her legs, a new clamp targeting the small hole in the back of the diaper. It reached in and yanked Rarity’s tail through, causing her to yelp. For a moment, she’d worried it had actually been pulled clean off!
“Savages!” She screamed to the conponies who almost certainly could not hear her.
Another buzz, and Rarity looked up to see a new sign: DIAPER FLUFFING STATION.
Her brow furrowed, equal parts worry and confusion. The diaper on her plot was plenty fluffy, big enough that it spread her gait a little. Sure the process of storing it in this machine could’ve flattened it a little, she supposed…
Rarity didn’t even get to finish debating the merits of this station with herself. She was lifted up off her back and flipped over. Her hind legs and face were pressed back down onto the conveyor belt. Her snout was smushed against it and she could smell the dirty rubber.
Her plot was lifted into the air, and she blushed at the compromising position. She was at least glad nopony could see her very unfashionable diaper right now.
But that gratitude didn’t last when she saw the paddle lower.
Her eyes widened, understanding dawning on the poor mare. When this station meant it was going to fluff her diaper, it actually intended to--
WHACK!
“AHH-ha… ah…” Rarity whimpered. A violent spank hit her plot. Even with the impact concentrated on her diaper, she could feel the force of that reverberating through her spine!
CRACK! WHACK!
“No--AHH! Ouch!” She whined. Tears sprang to her eyes. “N-No more, please!”
One more.
SMACK! “Gaah!” The machine wasn’t going to let her get away so easily, apparently.
The paddle retreated, and Rarity’s diaper was certainly no fluffier than before. But her plot was now as red as her face.
It seemed the Flim Flam brothers had opted for more power behind their fluff-ifier to save on time. Of course those two rapscallions would cut corners wherever possible. Rarity just wished they’d skipped diaper fluffing altogether in that case.
Another buzz, and she weakly looked up to see what new horror awaited her.
MANE STYLING STATION
They wouldn’t. Rarity thought.
She was repositioned again. The clamps plopped her down on her burning plot, eliciting a good whimper out of her. Her forelegs came down at her sides, and Rarity struggled again. Even at this position, she wasn’t able to get free.
But her renewed flailing only picked up when she saw the scissors descending. Behind them, hair curlers, and behind even that was some cheap hair spray product she would never willingly subject her follicles too.
“Don’t you dare!” She screamed as all three drew near.
Her limbs may have been locked down, but Rarity’s head was free to roam. She was already preemptively dodging and ducking, determined to avoid this station at all costs.
But the Build-A-Doll had a solution for her. A new metal clamp came from behind, locking itself around her neck. Rarity gasped, now unable to avoid her trip to the groomers. This chokehold was clearly meant for the necks of the limp dolls to keep them upright, because it held her much too firmly.
Her thighs tightened instinctively, and she got to hear the little crinkle crinkle of the diaper as a bonus to her misery.
The scissors reached her mane, and the tears from earlier actually began flowing now. Rarity saw snips of her beautiful, purple hair fall away at record speeds. “No… NO!”
The curling iron came next, attacking her scalp with a fervor that put the scissors to shame. As they shifted to the back of her head, the curler made short work of her short bangs. She could feel them being pulled and pressed into pin curls, and soon the same fate reached the rest of her hair.
Finally, a cloud of mist from the low-quality hair care product engulfed her, sending Rarity into a coughing fit.
When it cleared, she got just a moment to feel her new hair style: its lighter weight, and the way it now tickled the back of her neck and her shoulders. Not to mention the curly tips of her bangs which just barely invaded her vision.
Rarity sniffled, tears flowing and ruining her mascara. Her mane was ruined. She was an utter wreck! She bore hair meant for a filly; and in a style so old-timey no sane filly would ever be caught dead in for that matter. “You monsters!” she weeped.
And it wasn’t even over.
DRESS UP STATION flashed before her eyes. Rarity’s gut dropped.
The clamp choking her neck hadn’t let go, and the reason why soon became apparent. A metal arm holding a pacifier descended. And another, with a roll of tape.
Padded, beaten, and clipped already, Rarity doubted she could avoid being pacified too. She put up the minimal fight allowed, and pressed her lips closed as the cursed device drew near.
But this thing was used to working with dolls that didn’t even have mouths. It shoved the pacifier into her. Rarity was grateful she hadn’t clenched her jaw, because it just might’ve knocked out a few teeth if she had.
“MMMPH!” She cried, the tape descending. It wrapped around her head, managing to avoid her short mane, but keeping the guard of her new pacifier nice and secure when it finished.
Rarity tested the resistance with her lips and found about what she expected. The foalish toy was locked onto her lips. She could do nothing but mildly suckle, or play with the rubber bulb using her tongue.
Or she could scream muffledly.
“MMMPH! MMRRR! ERRRGGPHH!”
Finally, her neck was released. Rarity would’ve gasped if she could.
No new lights flashed, but a bright white square was coming into view. The other end of the machine! Is it finally over?
The mechanical hands lifted her up again. It was not over.
Rarity looked on in horror as new clamps unfolded a bunched up filly dress. It had layers of built in petticoats, but the skirt was short enough to make sure her new diaper would be nice and visible. It had poofy bubble sleeves with a white frill trim, and a lacey white apron sewn onto the front, its sash forming a large bow after wrapping around its waist. But the rest of the dress?
The rest of the dress made her want to scream.
Soft pink color, with red, yellow, and blue polka dots.
Polka dots!
“MMMMMMRRRRRPHHHH!”
She fought and struggled and squirmed. The clamps had to ease up on her a little bit as they started to slip the dress over her head, and Rarity fought for each inch they gave her. She flailed and kicked wildly, not caring how much her diaper crinkled or bunched up against her privates. She fought harder to avoid this than every other torment the machine had inflicted on her thus far. Combined.
But in the end, the skirt was pulled down just above her padding. Her forelegs slipped through the sleeves. Her head popped out, curly mane perfectly unfazed thanks to the earlier spray.
A bonnet matching her dress came down, and clamps tied it around her head. Rarity didn’t even fight it. All her motivation to struggle had been snapped away. She, the premiere fashionista of Ponyville, owner of three high end boutiques, was wearing a polka-dot dress.
How far she’d fallen.
Clamps grabbed her by her pits. Rarity’s hind legs were free to dangle. Once she realized something new was happening, she was able to snap out of her funk, if only a little bit. A buzz and a new, final sign lit up.
BOXING STATION
An unfolded doll box was popped on the conveyor belt below her. Rarity kicked her hind legs again, only to blush and freeze. Her struggle earlier had left her padding in a very uncomfortable position. It was riding up against her plot, almost like a mild wedgie. Even the slightest movement left her privates swaddled by padding, and now that she wasn’t wrestling the dress she had the mental faculties to be embarrassed by that again.
She was tucked onto the box by the clamps, and pushed down the belt until her limbs lined up with a series of small holes. She winced, the action only causing the diaper to ride up even more. Now it was quite the annoying wedgie. Combined with the sting of her spanking, and she was perpetually uncomfortable.
New clamps threaded metal wires through the holes, and all at once Rarity realized what they were doing.
“NNNRRR!” She cried, but she was too late to react. All four of her legs were tied down to the back of the box. Struggle as she might, she was now permanently bound. It seemed the one place the Flim Flam Brothers hadn’t skimped on was the materials for packaging.
The box was folded into place around Rarity, and she was cut off from the outside, with only a plastic screen to observe the world with. Or be observed through…
Rarity could see her reflection off the screen, and what a sorry sight she made.
A massive, poofy diaper spreading her legs. A hideous, out of style dress. A detestable mane-cut. Runny make-up. A pacifier shoved between her lips.
She looked positively ridiculous. She’d be a laughing stock like this!
The conveyor belt deposited the box outside. Rarity finally got to see the sun again.
A green aura enveloped her box, lifting her upright. The despicable Flim Flam Brothers grinning back at her. Rarity squirmed at the sight of their approving eyes, and hissed a few choice words at them from behind her pacifier.
“Well, Flim, it seems our little fashionista friend has gone away,” Flam said, twirling his mustache.
“Indubitably old brother of mine. And what luck too, considering she could have blown a hole in our whole endeavor.”
“Quite quite. But on a happier subject, I’d say this doll came out quite well, wouldn’t you?”
“Very well, Flam! In fact, I’d say this one turned out so well, it’d be a shame to sell it.”
Rarity harrumphed. Like Tartaraus they were going to sell her! In fact, if they didn’t let her go right now she’d… she’d…
Rarity whimpered. She wouldn’t--couldn’t--do anything.
“Great minds think alike, brother! Perhaps we should save this one for ourselves. I’ll tuck her away so nopony mistakes her for merchandise.”
“MMM MMRRH!” Rarity responded. She renewed her fight as her box lifted into the air. But try as she might, there was no breaking out. And her cries fell on deaf ears.
Flam brought her box closer, so he could whisper just to her.
“Once we’ve made our quick buck here, we’ll be off to towns all over Equestria,” he explained. “And it would be quite a bother to haul your fat flank around with us.”
Rarity gasped. FAT?!
“FRRF?!”
“So if you’re a good little doll, maybe we’ll make you our last sale of the day,” Flam winked, knowing his threat would keep her quiet as he carried her away from the brother’s stall. “Of course, if you want to be our little display item on that excursion, I wouldn’t say no.”
“NRRVRR!” Rarity screamed. Flam just chuckled.
“About what I thought. Oh well.” He set Rarity’s box down behind some bushes, far enough away where even if she made noise no customers would hear her. His magic poked a few holes in the ceiling of the box, ensuring she’d at least be able to breathe during her stay in captivity. “You’ll be nice and out of the way here, Rarity. Thanks for ensuring that our business will be a huge success!”
“ERGGHHFFRRFF! ERMM MMMRRFF!” Rarity raged as he walked away. But all her fuss and fury could do was make her diaper crinkle.
Suddenly, Flam appeared over her again. “Ah, right, one more thing.”
A faint kernel of hope bubbled up in Rarity’s chest. Would he actually…? Was he about to let her go?
“My brother and I… aren’t particularly up for changing that diaper of yours.” He snickered. “So in the interest of making sure it holds out for the whole day, maybe don’t go to town on it right away, okay?”
“FFFFFFFFFFF!”
“Grrrrreat! Good chat.” He tapped the box goodbye and was off, leaving Rarity alone.
She was alone, with seemingly hours ahead before she’d have a chance at freedom. With nothing to focus on Rarity couldn’t ignore the way her diaper was bunching up against her, nor the palpable sting of her freshly spanked flanks. But pretty soon, she’d have something new to occupy her time with: battling with her bowels to hold them at bay. It was a fight she’d quickly lose.
Flam had at least told her the truth one time that day; they really weren’t interested in changing her diaper at all.
