It was the first day of Polished Gears’ vacation and the stallion was so caught up in sightseeing, that he had neglected to get a room at the local stable. He looked everywhere, but all the ones he could find were full until tomorrow afternoon.
Worried that he’d be sleeping outside in a strange city, he kept on searching until he came across one that had a room for not only the night, but also for the rest of his stay. Ecstatic, he immediately booked, still not quite sure what a microstable even was.
That was, until he got to his room. To call it a room was a little generous, as it was just barely large enough to sleep in. The room was a cornerless beige, with no visible light fixtures other than the ring of lights around the centerpiece of the room, the bed. When Gears first opened the door, he mistook the room for not having a bed, but after a step and a faceplant onto the soft surface, he realized that the floor was the bed.
After getting thoroughly acquainted with the bed, Gears stowed their things in the cabinet outside the door and went down the hall, where the communal bathroom was located.
Once their nightly ritual was finished, they flopped onto the floor/bed only to find a little screen concealed in the wall. It lit up and he was shown a list of options to make his stay more comfortable, such as room temperature (a necessity given that there wasn’t any blankets), white noise/lullabies, alarms, and it even be used to book appointments at local venues. Setting an alarm, so he could get an early start, Gears found another option just simply called ‘Shower’. Since poking it only toggled it on or off, he figured that it just reserved a stall in the morning, just in case they weren’t going to try out one of the local bathhouses.
After running around all day, Gears definitely needed a bath. He would’ve preferred one before hitting the hay, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. Plus, with everything that was on his itinerary tomorrow (including a spa that he’d heard a lot about), he definitely didn’t want to arrive dirty.
The room slowly brightens as the alarm gently rose in volume, rousing the stallion from his deep slumber. Who covered his eyes with his foreleg, while the other was thrown in the general direction of the sound, as he tried to get a little more sleep. He seemingly managed it as the alarm cuts off after thumping against the wall a couple of times. Though, to his consternation, the lights remained on. Only to be interrupted by a small chime and a voice.
Preparing Shower
That caught his attention, but his brain still had two hooves in dreamland and wasn’t up to figuring out such complex things just yet.
Without warning, Gears was thrusted into a pleasantly warm downpour. Not long after getting thoroughly soaked, the sprays of water turned to a heavy strawberry-scented foam. Sputtering in surprise, he tried to make his way to the door and escape the slippery deluge. Unfortunately, the door wouldn’t budge (not that he could get a firm hoofing anyways).
Then, the stallion heard a muted clanking followed by a whirring of a motor from behind. Before he could see what was causing it, something pressed into him from behind, plastering the pony to the door. It felt like hundreds of tiny washcloths, scrubbing in the soap as it panned from the tips of his ears to his hindhooves and back again.
After several minutes of this, the pressure let up and Gears flopped back onto the bed with a splash of foam. Where he was finally able to see what was scrubbing him, and it looked disturbingly like those brushes used at automatic cart washes; one for every side of the room. The one assigned to the bed came back down to continue the cleaning. Landing on his belly, before moving upwards to engulf his head and muzzle in a cleaning fury.
The brushes cleaned his front just as diligently as they cleaned his backside. Sometimes flicking certain ways to turn him over, or against walls so they could get to the bed itself. The stallion tried to fight it at first, but there wasn’t much he could do to escape and ended up only wearing himself out. Eventually he accepted the ministrations of the machines, even though it occasionally felt that the machines were cleaning the room with him, more than their own brushes. He lost track of time as his world became nothing but strawberry foam and deep scrubbing.
Eventually, the scrubbing came to a stop and the soapy sprays changed to water as everything was rinsed off. The brushes retracting back into the ceiling as the soap ran off into hidden drains. He laid there, in the spring rain utterly exhausted from the extensive cleaning.
After a few minutes of rinsing, the water was shut off and replaced with jets of air. The blow dryers made quick work drying everything off, wicking the moisture from his coat.
He laid there in the mini wind tunnel, until they too shut off. The silence fell over the room, and Gears contemplated whether or not to get out of there or to take a nap. Until he was interrupted by another chime and a voice.
Thank you for choosing Luxury Microstables, powered by WashCo. We hope you enjoyed your stay and will come again soon.
Taking a moment to catch his breath, Gears hauled himself to his hooves and retrieved his saddlebags from the cabinet. After leaving the hotel, he checked the time and noticed that his “shower” was only a half-hour. Then a shiver went down his spine as he not only remembered that he had already prepaid for the rest of his vacation, but that he also definitely didn’t have enough bits to not experience that again.
