Simon is trapped in a crummy fanfiction : The original Last

In this chapter, Simon explains to Rarity a fundamental difference between human and pony culture.

Twilight Sparkle felt a surge of giddiness with each box she opened. Every single treasure that they contained set her mind racing about what it told of life on the human’s home world: An umbrella, but not like one a pony would use, since it had a curved handle to be held in a human’s hand, rather than being worn on a pony’s back or head. The concept made sense, of course, but it was exotic nonetheless.

She’d spent all of her life gathering knowledge, and now it was as though her life had started anew, in a totally different world. The prospect excited her.

She was almost disappointed by the small cube with a different colour on each face, and each face subdivided into six squares. Everything else seemed to have a purpose, even if she couldn’t even begin to think of what it’s purpose was. This was, well, just a cube. She levitated it in front of her.

Her thoughts changed when she poked it with her hoof, and made the bottom part twist. She could rotate each face of the cube independently. After playing with it for some time, she concluded that it was actually a pretty sophisticated mechanical device. But what did it do?

Twilight’s interest in the cube was fading. She wanted to move on to the next item in the box, but first she had to but the cube back the way it was. She tried to remember all the twists she had given it to do them in reverse, but she couldn’t get it back the way it was.

Oh no

She’d broken Simon’s cube! He’d never forgive her for this! He’d never let her near his things again! She couldn’t give up all this knowledge. She knew what she’d do.

“Spike!”

The purple dragon came to Twilight’s side in a flash, eager to assist.

“Take this out back and bury it!”

Spike took the cube in his hands and looked at it, puzzled.

“Go, quick!”

Spike did not hesitate any longer. He sped out the back door to accomplish his task.

Twilight breathed a sigh of relief.

She became aware of a brush hovering over her head. It now began to do it’s job for her mane.

“Twilight, dear. Your hair is a mess!”

Twilight turned to her friend Rarity, who had apparently let herself in. Twilight sensed that Rarity had big news.

“I’ve had the fashion idea of the century!” Rarity declared, barely able to stop herself from springing in the air like Pinkie Pie.

Twilight shared Rarity’s enthusiasm. Anything that made her friends happy, made her happy.

“What is it, Rarity?”

“I have a slew of wonderful ideas for clothes for that human of yours”

“Simon”, Twilight gently reminded Rarity.

“Yes, of course…” Rarity was laying out five big pieces of parchment, each with a different ensemble wrapped around a rough outline of Simon’s physique.

“I’ll make him the grandest outfits. He’ll be fit to present before the Royal Court at Canterlot! Then, all of Equestria will know that I, Rarity, am the only pony in history to have beautified a creature from beyond the stars!”

“Rarity”, Twilight chimed in.

Rarity paid no heed. “Of course, it’ll take a lot of work to figure out just what can make him look good. He has such broad shoulders, and his forelegs are so long. We’ll definitely need a different set of measurements than we get from a pony…”

“Rarity!” Twilight chirped.

“What? Yes?” Rarity was brought down from the clouds.

“Why don’t you ask Simon if he’d like you to make him some clothes?”

“Oh…Right”

Simon sat hunched on his bed, studying the sketches he’d been given. Coming up with an opinion on fashion designs was not easy two days after having a concussion. He wanted to go back to sleep.

The designs were ambitious at best,

One design in particular seemed intended for a glam rocker who cared little about the “rock” part of his job. Each had more sequins and diamonds set in them than Simon thought appropriate for all the clothes one wears in a lifetime. Of course Simon was no fashion expert, and he was dealing with head trauma. Still, there was one very important issue he needed to address.

“Pants”, he said. Not a single one of the garments covered anything beneath the waist.

“What?”

“Pants”

“Simon, you’ll have to explain”, Twilight reminded him.

Simon stuck out his leg, and grabbed a handful of fabric from the knee of his jumpsuit. “Pants”.

Rarity’s ears dropped.

“Oh, I see. But these designs aren’t meant to have…pants. I assure you, you will not need them to look fabulous in these suits.”

Simon shook his head.

“But Why?”

Simon got up from his bed. He went over to one of the many boxes scattered throughout the library. He opened one and retrieved a photo album. He sat back down on the bed, and laid it across his lap. Twilight and Rarity both sat on the bed on either side of him, looking over his shoulders.

Simon opened the book to a random page, a late-19th century photograph of an American baseball team. Simon pointed to the men’s legs.

“Pants”

Ahead a few decades, to the era of the stars of film and stage.  Buster Keaton, Charlie Chaplin, The Marx Brothers.

“Pants”

Dozens of men waiting in bread lines during the Great Depression, all of them wearing pants.

Winston Churchill, Franklin Delano Roosevelt, Charles deGaulle.

“Pants”

Elvis Presley, John F. Kennedy, The Beatles.

“Pants”

Vacation photos of a man posing in front of The Grand Canyon.

“Pants”

Michael Jackson.

“Pants”

“Yes, Simon, I understand, now. That’s enough. I’ll have to completely rework my designs, but I’ll get you your pants. And you’ll be one of the best-dressed beings in all of Equestria!”

Simon was glad that he hadn’t discouraged the generous unicorn at all. He liked Rarity. She seemed to live for her work, an attribute most professionals could not claim.

“May I take those pictures? For inspiration?”

Simon gave it to her. The vague notion that there were images in the book he wouldn’t want her to see wafted briefly into his mind, but Rarity was already leaving and he was asleep before she left the room.