Double Needle

Pistachio flitted about between three ponnequins. Vests needed adjusting, bolo ties needed fastening, and cowboy hats needed to be angled just right. “Can you believe it, Miss Stripes?” His grin was as wide as his hat. “Our very own displays at the Canterlot Chic Clothing Convention!”

“I know, right!? How cool is that?” Every bit as ecstatic, Plaid Stripes popped up from behind a violet-and-white houndstooth sundress. Its skirt rippled in her wake, held only by the grace of a few safety pins. “In the very first Carousel Showcase, too!”

What a difference the last two years had made for the young designers. Plaid Stripes had filled in nicely and traded her braces for a winning smile and an ounce of practicality. Pistachio’s sleek, farm-sculpted silhouette turned the heads of fillies wherever he went.

From humble beginnings, they’d been invited by Rarity to help set up Canterlot Boutique for the convention and participate in her new initiative, Carousel Showcase, which would feature the work of up-and-comers like themselves under the Carousel Boutique banner.

Sassy Saddles approached the pair, navigating two levitating dress racks around wayward boxes and display stands. "How are things coming along? You two seem excited.”

Pistachio reared up and laid a pair of felt hats out on a shelf. “Just about done! I think this is going to turn out great.”

“Yeah! I can’t wait until tomorrow!” Plaid splayed out a hoofful of scarves over the dress-clad ponnequin’s neck. “Hmm… Checkered? Striped? Checkered…? Checkered, yes.”

Sassy quickly aligned the two racks against the wall, then closed in for a look at their displays. “May I?”

Receiving no objections, she studied their work. “My my, Pistachio, these lush green accents are working wonders with the…” She carefully ran her hoof down a vest’s hem. “...is this cork leather? Very nice. I love what you’ve done with the bronze buckles.”

“Aw, shucks, Miss Sassy, thanks! Just doing my best!” He pushed the ponnequin further out front. “I wasn’t sure about this one, but I’m glad you like it.”

“And you, young miss,” she turned to Plaid Stripes’s display. “You’ve come a long way from the excitable assistant who chased whims like wild geese. You can certainly be proud of yourself. I can’t begin to imagine how you made some of these matches work, but you certainly have a knack for eye-catching patterns.”

“I knew it!” Plaid tossed the striped scarf up in the air, which came tumbling back down over her head. “Thanks, Sassy!” She continued, from behind the garment.

Sassy Saddles nodded and smiled. “I’d better get back to it. Keep up the good work, you two!”

Across the boutique from the jubilating up-and-comers, things were no less busy.

“How about we put it in that corner…? No, no, that won’t do.”

Rarity was at a standstill. The Boutique’s newest display case, a marvel of cherry wood and strong glass, was sure to bring out the gleam and sparkles of her new jewelry line. Finding the perfect placement for it, however, was another matter.

Too much sun.

Not enough sun.

In the way.

Too out of the way.

The case hit the floor with a careful but weighty thump and Spike emerged from behind it, stretching a kink out of his back. He stood a smidge taller than the average stallion and had firmed up quite a bit from the adorably chubby wyrmling Rarity had once doted on. Still, the prodigious strength of a teenage dragon could only stretch so far.

“Um, Rarity?” Spike dared. “Coco will be here any minute now, maybe you can think about this for a bit and I’ll help her bring in the dresses in the meantime?”

“Right,” Rarity nodded, still fixated on searching for the perfect spot. “Good thinking. So sorry about that, Spikey-Wikey. The Canterlot Chic Clothing Convention is starting tomorrow, and there’s still so much left to do!”

Right on cue, the Boutique’s front door chimed a happy welcome for Coco Pommel. “Good morning, everypony,” she beamed. “I’m here to help!”

Eight hours later, Spike, Plaid, and Pistachio checked into their hotel and set down their bags.

They had a two-bedroom, three-bed suite all to themselves, generously paid for by Rarity.

Spike flopped face-first over the armrest of a plush loveseat. “Whew. I’m beat!”

He barely reacted when a giggling Plaid Stripes sprawled out from the opposing side of the couch, draping her forelegs and head over his back. “I have been dreaming of a couch for hours!”

“Hey there,” Spike said. “Comfy?”

“Mhm. You’re warm.”

“Well now,” Pistachio mumbled through the handle of a shopping bag. He set it down and seated himself on a plush floor cushion. “You two seem like you’re having fun.”

Spike craned his neck up for a better look. “What’s in the bag?”

Trying to roll over for a better look, Plaid tumbled off dragon and loveseat alike and landed back-first onto the outrageously thick rug. “I bet it’s booze!” she cheered. “Is it kobylka?”

“Not quite.” Pistachio stuffed his snout into the fabric bag and came up with a square bottle of enticing amber liquid.

Spike hoisted himself up into a more reasonable sitting position. “Jack Donkiels, huh? You can take the colt out of the farm, but you can’t take the farm out of the colt.”

Pistachio chuckled. “Sorry, Miss Stripes, no kobylka here. I didn’t think I’d be able to slip more than one bottle by, so I picked my favorite.”

“Aww…” Plaid lamented. “Good thing I brought my own!” She bounced back up and rummaged through her luggage. She came back up with a red-capped bottle of Orloff-branded kobylka which she proceeded to cradle and nuzzle like a newborn kitten. “Daddy’s going to be a little mad when he finds out, but it’s nothing I can’t apologize for with a miniature copy of Princess Twilight’s throne. Remind me to find a good souvenir shop after the convention, would you?”

Pistachio nodded. “I’ll try and rem—”

“Oh!” Plaid interrupted while fumbling to unscrew the clear liquor’s cap. “And, Pistachio, you don’t have to call me Miss. Stripey is just fine from handsome boys like you two.”

Spike gawked at the two bottles. “Both of you, really? Sheesh. There’s no way I could ever sneak booze past Twilight. I can barely snack on a few gems at night without a guard telling on me!”

Pistachio popped the cork off of his bottle and took a deep, hooves-free swig before slamming it down on the coffee table and nickering energetically. “Whew! That’s a good burn! Help yourself, Spike, there’s plenty to go around.”

Plaid Stripes took a seat next to Spike and leaned in between the two boys. “You boys can have some of mine too.”

Spike drank from the whiskey bottle before passing it on and picking up the room service menu. “Snacks are on me, then! Who wants nachos?”