Brushie brushie brush
Gear Shift hated that tune, especially as it sang the rhythm of the cursed thing combing through her mane.
Brushie brushie brush
The blue unicorn singing the tyrannically simple song, Night Reader, though he usually went by Eight, was at her back this time. Although, given the way things were going, she imagined that was going to change very soon. Somebody new always came by. Always.
Brushie brushie brush
As the words continued grating on her ears, the brush in Eight’s magic shifted to her back. The unicorn smiled happily, brush brush brushing away, just like he’d been inspired to do by by that shrimpy, mare-sized, insignificant, wretched little bu-
“Can you stop?” she snapped, whirling on the unicorn as his brush passed over the fur on her side.
Eight let out a snort that more than said his answer, then continued his infernal brushing, smoothing out a minuscule, barely noticeable knot in her progressively fluffy white fur.
“Facade requested you be brushed,” he said, with all the smarm and cheer of a pony who knew she wasn’t going to do anything to actually threaten him. “And I quote; “sorry I was busy. Please brush Gear ALL day,” end quote.” He blepped out his tongue as he used the brush to massage out a less than fluffy patch of fur. “So here we are, brushing.”
“That was for one day, one!” Gear replied. “You’ve all been at this for months now!”
Eight chuckled and continued to brush without pause.
“I’d say I’m sorry, but that’d be lying.” He shrugged his shoulders. “It’s fun to make you nice and fluffy.” The vile, devilish brush momentarily lifted from her fur as he flew it in a short circle. “Brushie brushie brush! Brushing the Geab till she’s nice and fluff!”
“My name’s not Geab!”
When her snarling failed to kill his smile, she whined and tapped her hooves.
“Stooooop!”
Eight continued to hum his evil little tune and continued to use his vile, horrible brush, pulling it across her fur in steady, even lines, slowly wrestling it from wild and bed headed to soft, fluffy and pure. Which was to say he was ruining her natural style. Gear Shift grumbled and crossed forelegs, briefly considering trying to make a run for it as the door to the clubhouse opened. Her muzzle curled in a snarl as another pony trotted into the room, brush already in hoof.
“Good morning!” Night Owl said cheerily.
“Good morning,” Eight replied, equally as cheery, to the orange bat pony, never stopping his brushing. If anything his temp increased with what Gear imagined was excitement. “Come to brush the Geab?”
“Yup!”
Night Owl plopped down on the other side of Gear Shift and immediately set to brushing her mane. As the soft bristles started their taming process on her striped mane, Gear let out a groan to the ceiling.
“Stop brushing me.” She jabbed a hoof at Eight. “Brush him! He’s looking scruffy!”
Eight let out a dismissive snort.
“Please, unlike some ponies, I like getting brushed. It helps show off that half-bat fluff.” He nodded toward a sheet of paper nailed to a tack board. “And if you checked the schedule, Fire is trying his first professional brushing on my chest floofs after lunch.”
“Training for brushing is ridiculous.” Gear winced as Night tugged a knot free in her mane.
Letting out an offended squeak, Eight tapped the button affixed to his crimson scarf.
“These are premium brushes, the best brushing training around! I had to get a professional brushing certification!”
“No you didn’t, it was one day, one! This is all so unnecessary and pointless!”
Eight huffed and continued brushing.
“You’re lucky I’m a professional Geaber Shifty, otherwise you’d make this very un-enjoyable. As it stands, I shall continue the traditional brushing song to raise my spirits, since apparently its hurt my feelings day.”
Gear Shift stared at the ceiling with exasperated eyes as Eight let out a sad little sniffle. Night Owl got to his feet and trotted around her, sitting beside the blue unicorn and pulling him into a wing hug. Using one hoof to start brushing her chest fur, Night Owl used the other to pat Eight’s back.
“There there best bat, Geary didn’t mean it!”
Gear Shift stared harder at the ceiling as she heard another pathetic sniffle. She winced and the pitiful sound and finally glanced down, finding a teary eyed Eight staring at her for confirmation of Night Owl’s comforting words. She rolled her eyes and let out another groan.
‘This is why this keeps happening,’ she mentally grumbled. ‘Stupid silly bats and their sad eyes…’
Out loud she said;
“I… appreciate the effort you’ve gone through Eight. You…” she sighed as she glanced at him again and found still teary eyes. “… you do good brushing.”
His eyes immediately dried and he winked, flashing a grin as his brush ran down her barrel.
“You make it too easy Shifty. Knew you loved brushin’.”
Gear Shift swiped up her pre-rolled newspaper and smacked the top of his head.
“Ow.”
“You deserve it!” Gear snapped.
Eight stuck out his tongue.
“Didn’t say I didn’t!” His brush fell into its rhythm again and his ears flopped as he rocked his head back and forth happily. “Brushie brushie brush.”
Night Owl giggled and sang along with him.
“Brushie brushie brush.”
Gear Shift let out another exasperated groan and threw her hooves in the air.
“Why me?!?”
“You’re scruffy-”
“No I’m not!”
“-and Facade is watching to make sure we brush!” Eight continued on. He nodded toward a camera mounted above the door, and Gear stared hard at it. The lens adjusted as she watched, putting a twitch in her eye.
“How long has that been there?”
Eight scoffed.
“Silly Geab, not noticing the camera.”
“I-is that a recording light? Are you making copies?”
The mischevious look that entered Eight’s smile was all the answer she needed.
“You’d better not be! If I see myself on BrushHub, I’ll…” She stomped a hoof. “You know what I’ll do!”
Eight chuckled and continued brushing.
“Promises promises silly Geab, and no, no BrushHub. Not without Facade’s permission at least.”
Gear blushed, but grumbled and nodded, knowing that was as good an affirmation she was going to get from the blue unicorn. Night Owl shifted back to his original position as the clubhouse door again opened, this time allowing a gray-feathered gryphon to enter.
“Hi Kaj!” the pair of bats said.
Both Eight and Night Owl paused in their brushing to give him a wave, and even Gear Shift grumbled out a; “hello”, her eyes watching him carefully as he opened a locker and drew out yet another brush. She’d tried destroying them before. Eight bought well though, and they were enchanted. Throwing them out didn’t work either, as they apparently had return spells on them. Truly the unicorn was thorough in his inane desire to brush.
“Put the brush away,” Gear growled.
She was half his size, most ponies were, and the duo already brushing her made her look even less threatening. Kaj simply grinned and said nothing, moving toward her with brush in claw.
Before Kaj even took a seat, the clubhouse door again opened, this time letting in three more. Two ponies and a changeling. The only thing in the world that could draw Eight away from brushing did just that, and the unicorn abandoned his brush to take a flying leap at the changeling.
“Buggo!”
Trex let out a scree of alarm as a pony twice his size slammed into him, burying him in a fluffy hug. His chitinous legs smacked against the pony’s back even as everyone laughed at his plight.
“Off of me! You don’t have to greet me like this every time, we had breakfast together!”
Eight’s tail lashed excitedly and he got to his hooves, winking at the small bug.
“Shush, you know you love my hugs, and besides, the only reason Fire didn’t help me pounce you is cause he walked with you.”
“True,” the orange earth pony winked. “Normally Trexy can’t keep me away…”
Trex popped to his hooves and swatted at both of them.
“Beatings! I shall smack the pair of you!”
Eight and Fire Hearth shared a chuckle, and the blue unicorn threw a hoof around the orange earth pony’s withers.
“Come on trainee, I’ve got some prime Geab real-estate ready for a steady brushin’!”
“Stop calling me Geab!”
Eight laughed again as he and Fire Hearth trotted over and got to work. The blue pegasus beside Trex glanced over at the changeling as he brushed himself off.
“I see not much has changed while I’ve been off sailing.”
“If anything those two are worse,” Trex grumbled. “One can’t complain about free love though. So as I was saying before someone attacked me.”
“Love you too buggo!”
Trex sighed and shook his head. “So Blue, we are starting to offer full club benefits. Obviously as our friend, your training sessions are all going to be free, but you will need to either pay a club fee, or be a brushie for at least twice a month after training.”
Gear Shift felt her eye twitch and she looked to Eight, who gave her a knowing smile and a wink.
“Benefits? What is he on about?”
Eight chuckled, pointing his hoof and guiding Fire’s brush strokes.
“We’re going public. Invite only of course, but the Brushing Club is officially chartered as one of Canterlot’s most exclusive organizations. We’ve already got three applications for new members! They are very eager to try their hooves at brushing you.”
Her eye twitched and she bared her teeth again.
“Why?”
“Well who wouldn’t want to join a club dedicated to brushing? Even Trex loves it, and he doesn’t even have fur.”
The changeling raised his nose indignantly as he and Blue Shadow trotted over with yet more brushes. Gear let out another silent scream at the ceiling.
“I like the way you rub my fin,” Trex huffed. “It’s a perfectly normal changeling reaction.”
“We’ll see.” Eight grinned. “One of the applicants is a changeling. Maybe he’s as much of a degenerate as you are.”
The smack of a newspaper meeting unicorn head filled the room.
“Ow.”
Trex harrumphed again, then set to brushing Gear’s tail. Eight chuckled as he observed Fire’s brushing. Gear huffed and stamped a hoof.
“That wasn’t my question. Why do ponies want to brush me?”
Eight smiled at her like the answer was obvious. When she continued to glare at him, he chuckled.
“Come on Shifty, I think it’s pretty obvious who the club mascot is.”
Gear paled.
“You didn’t.”
Eight puffed up and took the brush from Fire’s grasp, turning it over to show the handle. Gear’s jaw dropped as she bore witness to the horror of a custom embroidered handle with her smiling face on it.
“Yup! Gear Shift is the official mascot of the Canterlot Brushing Club!”
The cry that sounded from the mare couldn’t be heard outside of the wall of fluffy bodies brushing her long into the day. She did have to admit though. Her fur was looking rather plush and pretty.
