The Trials and Tribulations of Tolliker

Chapters

S1E1 : Snowballs (Pilot)
S1E2: Much Ado About Rimming
S1E3: Handkerchiefs, A Reference Guide

S1E1 : Snowballs (Pilot)

Season I Episode 1: Snowballs (Pilot)

—|—

Rarity heard a knock on the Boutique's door.

She looked up from the stitch she was working on and scowled. It seemed that every time she hit a new thread of dress ideas, somepony just had to interrupt her. Ever since Twilight had arrived and Rarity had become the bearer of Generosity, it seemed that every week Ponyville, or sometimes the entirety of Equestria, needed saving. Sometimes, a pony just wants to work on her dresses.

There was another knock.

Broken from her reverie, Rarity trotted up to the entrance of her shop, levitating it open to see two unicorns, a colt and a filly, at her doorstep, surrounded by the snow of the recently scheduled mild blizzard. She smiled, annoyance disappearing at the sight of her two friends.

"Oh Twilight, Tolliker, please come in. I'll go put on a kettle, for hot co—"

The colt, blue with a messy dark green mane, held up a hoof to stop her. "No need, Miss Rarity. We just came to invite you to the snowball fight."

Twilight, the other guest, continued, "Some stallions set up a snowball fight in the yard just past Umber's house. We thought you might want to come, show off some winter fashion."

"Well darling, normally I'd be delighted to att—wait, did you say it was arranged by stallions? To be at Umber's house?"

"Well, yea," said Twilight, "At least, that's what the invitation said. Right, Tollie?"

He nodded, but Rarity didn't notice. She was freaking out, and doing a bad job of hiding it.

Twilight looked at her in concern. "Rarity, are you okay? You look a little…worked up."

"Oh, I'm fine. Everything's fine. Tolliker, before you go, could you go upstairs and review a few chapeaus? They've already been set out."

Tolliker, Ponyville's resident hatter and milliner, nodded profusely, his sky blue eyes lit up in anticipation of seeing what gorgeous hats Rarity had come with. He rushed upstairs, leaving Rarity and Twilight alone in the front room of the Boutique.

Rarity turned to Twilight, looking seriously concerned, and asked, with similar conviction, what exactly the invitation to the fight had said.

"I don't know, he just came up to the library and asked if I'd like to come to the fight with him," said Twilight, who looked confused. "Why, what's so important about what it said. It's just a snowball fight."

"Darling, how did you and Tolliker meet?"

"He came in to the library one day; he was looking for a book on how to remove stains from magically enchanted fabric without damaging the metaphysical properties of the material. I directed him to Starshine's Treatise on Various Cleansers and Soaps to Suit All Magical Needs, and when that didn't produce any viable mixtures, we decided to experiment on our own. We ended up blowing up fifteen beakers, but it was fun, and we've been friends since. Why, what's important about that?" Twilight was beginning to get accusatory, "How do you know him?"

Rarity gave her a withering look. "Darling, I'm Ponyville's resident clothes designer. You'd think I knew everyone who makes clothes. Or, in his case, hats. He's rather good, but he focuses on stallion fashion. Anyways, you don't know about…about the other stallions', uh, agreement with the rest of Ponyville, then?"

Seeing Twilight's oblivious stare, she continued. "Well, you know the stallions' habits, correct?" Twilight continued staring, clueless. "Oh my, darling, you really need to get out more. They rut, dear. All the time."

Twilight gasped in surprise and blushed from embarrassment and a trace of…was that excitement Rarity detected? She blew off the thought, continuing. "You would have found out soon enough anyways, darling; its better you found out from me then from, say, walking in on them. And yes, they take all the necessary precautions, et cetera, et cetera, they've been doing this for years. Anyways, Tolliker…he's different. Somehow he was never told, and nopony can ever break the news to him, so we all just take the greatest action necessary to ensure he never finds out.

"He'd never find out anyways, bless his heart. He has a knack for being near whatever residence the weekly…soiree is being held in, but he's still convinced the thumps and bangs and…ahem…moans are from everypony redecorating. Not to mention the stains seen around here sometimes, but that's off the point. This 'snowball fight,' is arranged by stallions at Umber's house. Umby's rather…well liked among the gentlecolts, and so that invitation may have been to something entirely different, you see? I have to see it; I know some of the…vocabulary…that the stallions use. If it really is just a snowball fight, we can attend, but if it's not, well…"

Twilight stared at her. This explained quite a bit. She'd always wondered why the stallions had meetings in the barn at Sweet Apple Acres, and why Applejack had never failed to complain about cleaning the place later, even though she never did. Or why Tolliker was convinced Ponyville had an surplus of coconut jelly. Or how the colts would often walk the town with messy hair and contented exhaustion.

Or why the Pony Sutra kept disappearing from her library.

She should tell Tolliker, though. It wasn't as if it was anything bad; the mares and colts of Canterlot had a similar system, not that Twilight had ever participated. And it would save the ponies of the town what seemed like a lot of trouble, judging by Rarity's stressing out. It was the perfect course of action, Tollie'd be down in a few minutes, Twilight would tell him the news, and they'd all get on with their happy lives.

Rarity looked at her in a knowing way. "Darling, you're thinking of telling him aren’t you?" When Twilight started at Rarity's seeming psychic ability, she continued, "Everypony always thinks that they'll be able to when they first hear of the predicament. They never can. Nopony's quite sure why."

Scoffing, Twilight turned towards the stairs. Just because the rest of Ponyville had fallen ill to some sort of other superstition didn't mean that she'd have the same problem. She was a pony of science and rationalism, not unfounded nonsense and old pony tales.

She heard the sound of hooves clopping as they saw the shadow of Tolliker descending the stairs. This was her chance.

Tollie looked a tad indignant. "Rarity, the concepts behind the pieces are marvelous, but you really need to learn how to shape the crown properly. Yours are a bit…floppy, I guess.

His face changed to an expression of slight impatience. "Well then, are we all ready to go to the fight?"

Putting on a sympathetic face, Twilight started to speak.

"Tolliker, I know this may come as a stretch, but—"

She looked at his clear blues eyes, and her imagination got away from her.

Tolliker stood on one of the balconies projecting out of the side of the Boutique. One of his hooves was on the exterior side of the railing, and his eyes were streaming with tears of hurt and mistrust. Twilight looked on, unable to move.

"You all lied to me!" he cried, "you all let me live in ignorance!"

"Tolliker, it's okay," yelled Rarity, who was standing a good ways away from him, "they were just rutting. It's not as if they didn't want you to join. They just couldn't figure out how to tell you."

He didn't look at all relieved. "You lie! You lie like you always have. I hate you all."

He jumped.

"—uh…uh…ah…what?"

Rarity regarded her empathetically. "It's okay, Tollie, she's just forgotten what she wanted to say, right darling?" She gave her fellow filly an "agree-with-me-or-face-the-consequences" look.

"Uh…yea. Sorry. Lost my train of though." Twilight punctuated her ill-done lie with an obviously false laugh, but Tolliker didn't seem to notice.

"Well then," said Rarity, "I guess it's time we got going.

—|—

The three ponies walked through the streets of Ponyville, bound up in their scarves and, in Tolliker's case, a richly furred ushanka. The mares trotted behind Tollie, whispering fiercely, Tolliker oblivious of their conversation.

"Rarity, explain what just happened to me," hissed Twilight. "It's…it's like I lost my ability to talk."

"Nopony knows, darling, as I said. Whenever anypony tries to tell him, they just…fail, somehow. Everypony always has a vision of something bad happening to him or the town or Equestria and just…stutter out, I suppose. It's no matter, all that's behind us. Now we've got to find that invitation. Tolliker's hat shop is a bit off the way to Umber's house, we'll need a distraction if we want to get in without him noticing." She looked at Twilight expectantly.

Twilight's eyebrows raised in vexation. "What am I supposed to do? Pinkie's the distracter of this town."

"Well then," said Rarity, "I guess I'll have to find somepony else to help me."

Twilight snorted. "What? Is the entirety of Ponyville in on this…conspiracy?"

"You'd be surprised," said Rarity. She glanced over towards a handsome brown stallion. "Oh, wonderful, there's Dr. Whooves. Derpy normally delivers the stallion's event schedules and invitations and such; the Doctor should know what the invitation said. Just let me get his attention," she said, turning her head in his general direction.

"DOCTOR WHOOVES, DARLING, HOWEVER ARE YOU DOING?"

The Doctor, along with the rest of the ponies on Ponyville's main street, flinched at the sudden and, somehow, still ladylike exclamation. Rarity trotted up towards him as if her sudden outburst didn't violate several rules of etiquette, leaving Twilight shaking her head and Tolliker a bit startled.

"My dear, Doctor, might I say your mane is looking quite well-done today," she said, gesturing towards his hair, which looked exactly as it always did. "How are you doing, Doctor, enjoying the pristine snow?"

At "pristine," the Doctor ears twitched, and he looked exasperatingly at Tolliker before continuing with the ruse. "I'm doing well, Rarity. Might I ask what you three are heading off towards?"

"Oh, just a little fete." She turned towards the other two unicorns, a faux-sweet smile on her face. "You two can go ahead, I'll catch up."

Tolliker cheerfully nodded and began cantering back down the path, Twilight following him, confused.

Rarity turned back to the Doctor, her face switched to a serious mood. "Okay then, what's this 'snowball fight' that the stallions planned? Is it innocent?"

"Snowball fight?" asked Whooves, his expression betraying a sense of confusion. "We didn't plan a snowball fi—oh Celestia," he said, tone changing to slight panic, "Derpy must have put an invitation in Tollie's mailbox by mistake. It didn't say 'snowball fight,' it said 'snowballing party.'"

Now it was Rarity's turn to look confused. "Snowballing? What in Equestria is that?"

"Well…um…"

The Doctor leaned near Rarity's ear and began whispering softly. Rarity's face changed from surprise to understanding to slight lust before settling on full-blown panic, her pupils constricted into tiny pinpricks.

"Oh no…I've got to go stop them. Thank you, Doctor, you've been a huge help."

"You're welcome!" shouted Whooves, as he watched Rarity gallop down the path.

He'd have to go set the "Days since last Code Pristine" calendar back to zero.

Again.

—|—

"Wait, you mean you have no idea who this customer is?"

Twilight and Tolliker had struck up a conversation while walking along their path, and it had turned towards tales of the hatter's clients and the librarian's patrons.

"Nope," said Tolliker, "but it's always the same order: a top hat tied with white ribbon, paid for with griffin currency. I get the order roughly every six months or so, to send to whatever city. The last time it was Manehatten, but I've gotten the order from pretty much every part of—"

He was interrupted as Rarity sprang in front of the pair, panting a bit from having galloped so fast. "Darlings...I…I think we need to skip the fight. I've…uh…heard that Blues is very good at snowball fighting, and that nopony ever wins against him. Seeing as he's going to be there…well, it wouldn't make any sense to go to a completion where we definitely wouldn't win, right?" She looked desperately at him, as if willing him to go along with it.

He didn't, of course.

"Rarity, what are you talking about," he said, "I'm not going to reject an invitation for that reason."

"Yeah," said Twilight, "it's all about having fun anyways. I'm sure Blues will go easy on us if we're just beginners. He's not one to flaunt."

Rarity stared at Twilight, eyes twitching erratically. "Darling, I'm quite sure that we do. Not. Need. To go. It wouldn't be…fun."

"Nonsense," replied Tolliker, "Blues is really nice. He wouldn't let us have a bad time, right Twilight?" The hat maker looked to her for affirmation, but she just stared blankly as she put the pieces together.

"Twilight?"

Brought out of her thoughts, she looked at him. "Actually, Tolliker, I think Rarity might be right. I think this fight might be meant for, uh, non-amateurs. We could always have our own fight someplace else…like at Sweet Apple Acres…or in the field behind Rainbow's house."

Tolliker looked at them, his eyebrows raised in incredulity.

"Oh, I see. You girls just want to go so you won't lose to us stallions. Well then, I guess that's okay. Can't blame you for seeing the light."

The mares sighed in relief. "Oh, darling," said Rarity, "you have no idea how—"

PAMF.

A snowball hit Rarity square in the face, and Twilight looked on in horror as Tolliker ran off, still pelting them with snowballs, towards Umber's house

—|—

Umber ran the toothbrush across his teeth, cleaning as much of the taste out as he could. As much as he loved the lingering, savory sensation, he knew that going in with a fresh mouth made that first taste quite a bit better.

A slight panging in his jaw reminded him that he'd also escaped to the bathroom in his house for a little break from the commotion going on pretty much everywhere else in his house (except the studio, nopony went in the studio without permission). He'd moved every article of stainable fabric out of the more frequented areas, including his trademark sweater, which was locked up in his closet.

His jaw panged again. He looked in the mirror. His hair was messy; he reached for a nearby comb to fix it. As he ran the fine teeth through his mane, he relaxed. It was fun, hosting these events, but he never planned them, and he was always tired by the time they were through. He preferred more private get-togethers anyways.

As he began to imagine a smaller party with only a couple visitors, he was rudely interrupted by a sudden bang on the door, causing him to pull out a few hairs as he jerked the comb.

Everypony knew the bathroom was for breaks, and they wouldn't interrupt for anything other than an emergency, which in this case meant only one thing.

Tolliker

"Coming!" he called. He placed the comb back in its drawer and looked in the mirror. Sighing, he reflected that he definitely hadn't looked that tired a moment ago. It was no matter, it was his house, and therefore it was his responsibility to respond to Code Pristines.

After leaving the restroom, he navigated through the groups of stallions, some of which hadn't had time to disengage from one another. Somepony threw him his sweater and he put it on quickly; he'd never have been caught with it off if he was doing anything innocent.

Opening the door only a crack so as to not reveal the scene behind him, he found himself face to face with Tollie's exuberant smile.

"Hey Umber," he said, still grinning in earnest, "I heard you guys were having a snowball fight. I dunno why you'd have it inside though."

Somepony behind Umber began to laugh.

"Well," replied Umber, "we, uh, where, but we had to…er…cancel. Unforseen circumstances. Terribly sorry."

Tolliker continued, unfettered. "What circumstances? And why is somepony laugh—"

"Tolliker, darling!" called Rarity, who was galloping towards Umber's house in a panic, followed by a nervous looking Twilight. Umber thanked Celestia for the backup.

"Tolliker," she repeated, "I'm afraid he's right. We were trying to dissuade you from attending in the first place, to lessen the disappointment, you know, but you, uh, left."

"Oh, well you could have just told me. And seriously," he added, looking at Umber accusingly, "who was that laughing?"

Umber shrank a little towards the door. "Him? Oh he's my…my…uh," he paused as if in though, "my maid! Yes, he's my maid. And he's laughing because I was an idiot and spilled paint all over my living room. Three buckets of ruby red. Did a number on the carpet. So I…uh…need to go. Help clean. Yeah. Bye." With that, he retreated fully into the house.

The stallions of Ponyville waited silent and still for a few moments as they heard Twilight and Rarity convince Tolliker to go somewhere else for their own, private snowball fight. Eventually, their conversation ended, and the stallions collectively breathed a deep sigh of relief before resuming the festivities with as much vigor as before.

Umber smiled a little, earlier traces of exhaustion gone, and he threw himself into the fray.

He was going to have to wash his sweater, later.

It was worth it.

—|—

Next week's episode shall be entitled "Much Ado About Rimming."

S1E2: Much Ado About Rimming

Season I Episode 2: Much Ado About Rimming

—|—

The upholstery was a pleasant color, a light cream that gleamed when the morning sunlight shone through the windows of the truck. It smelled of apples and sweat with a hint of stallion, and wrinkled quite delicately wherever Umber shoved his face into it.

"Bi…Big…oh Celestia," he cried. Big Macintosh, whose muzzle was crammed rather solidly between his flanks, smiled, not that Umber would have seen. Big Mac knew he was like this at most stallion events, and had heard he was in private from gossip, but liked to think that he was loudest with him.

The smaller stallion's breath became erratic; he was close. Macintosh closed his eyes and pressed in deeper, as experience had taught him. Umber pushed harder into the passenger's seat of the truck, muffling his ever-louder moans, and Big Mac felt him shudder as the hint of stallion wafting about the cabin became much more.

Macintosh's snout withdrew from Umber as the smaller stallion collapsed in contentment, sprawled over the seats. Smiling again, the larger stallion moved to lie down next to him, nuzzling his mane as he enjoyed the afterglow.

Umber looked up at him, panting slightly. "By Luna, you're fantastic."

Smiling sheepishly, Mac shrugged. "Just repayin' a favor."

"May be," said Umber, "but I don't know if I can compete with that. You're, like, the best at it in all of—"

"Big Macintosh, you get out here right now!"

The stallions jumped up rather awkwardly, Umber dropping right back down again to try covering himself as best he could. Macintosh peered through a window of the truck to see a particularly miffed Applejack glaring back up at him.

"I know you two are in there," she continued, "there ain't no reason to hide. 'Tain't anythin' I haven't seen before at those 'visits' you boys have in the barn. Now, get down here!"

Reluctantly, Big Macintosh toggled the door of the truck, and it swung open to reveal the two. Umber dropped out first, leaning down to try and cover up. Big Mac followed, slamming the door closed and circling round to block Applejack's view of the other colt, scowling at her.

"Now then," she started, "what were you two thinkin'? Doing it in a truck, out where anypony can see ya?" She directed her attention at Umber, who was desperately hiding behind Macintosh. "Not t' mention hear ya."

Macintosh scowled at her. "It's not like anypony's out today, and we're a might far from town. Everypony's got their apple orders fer this week."

"Everypony but Tolliker, you mean."

Umber's head popped out from behind Big Macintosh. "But he's out of town for the next week. He's getting fabric from Trottingham."

"That might be," said Applejack, "but he had to stop by the farm to get some supplies before he left, they don't have Apple family apples over there. Ya'll are lucky he didn't hear ya; I dunno if we coulda convinced him ya'll were 'redecoratin'' the inside of a truck."

She sighed, and her face softened. "I'm sorry. I don't disapprove or anythin', it's just…be more careful next time, sugarcubes. And try to be a little quieter," she added, eyeing Umber, "ain't no reason for them t' hear ya all the way in Canterlot.
"Now," she continued, "if ya'll two are a might done here, it's time for breakfast. Apple Bloom finally figured out how to make a decent apple pancake, and I ain't lettin' her big brother miss out on it. You can come too, Umby, I know how much ya like apples."

So the three ponies began to trot up towards the homestead, following the trail of a different, but still delicious, scent.

—|—

The streets of Ponyville weren't bustling, but they weren't abandoned either. Crème Brûlée, Caramel, and Toffee pitched their wares from the stall outside their forge. Haute Cuisine worked at the café, serving Bon Bon and Lyra a plate of alfalfa scones, while Pokey Pierce and Ace browsed the menu at another table, holding hooves. The Cakes walked towards another end of town, on a catering errand, while Pinkie ran through the streets playing tag with the twins.

All in all, it was an average day for the town, and Umber took it in as he walked towards his house. He passed by Ponet, painting a scene of Canterlot as seen from the central plaza of Ponyville, while Lily and Roseluck arranged a batch of daffodils and irises. Yes, perfectly normal.

He looked up. It was perfect weather, Central Weather Control hadn't declared any storms for the day. Pushing back the hems of his sweater, Umber's wings stretched and began to beat, lifting him up into the air, above a lone, fluffy cloud. He landed, and pulled out a small sketchbook he always had, hidden in a concealed pocket within his top (courtesy of Rarity's sewing expertise).

He looked around. Canterlot Mountain rose in the distance, elegant and regal as always, but Umber had already drawn that countless times. He wasn't planning to sketch anything that stretched before him; he simply needed the quiet and the peace. Dragging a pencil across the paper, he began placing lines, long elegant curves that seemed to gently wave in an invisible breeze. Her mane had been beautiful to Umber, the first time he'd seen her, but it was to all her subjects, as it should be. More strokes materialized, coalescing into a form of delicate posture but divine power: Princess Celestia of Equestria.

For Nightmare Night, Umber had spent three months on his costume, almost as much time as Twilight Sparkle, and it had been perfect. Much like Twilight, though, nopony had initially realized who he'd been, so he'd made it into a game. Whoever correctly identified his costume got a free portrait sketch. Of course, he hadn't expected Her Highness Princess Luna to arrive, and she had guessed immediately. He'd sketched her of course, it wasn't his best from all the trembling he did due to the rather intimidating presence of Her Highness, but she had declared it a "PORTAIT WORTHY OF A PLACE IN OUR ROYAL GALLERY," which he'd taken as a sign of approval. She'd taken it with her, and the next he'd heard of it was when he received a letter in the mail, from Princess Celestia herself, asking for a counterpart to be installed in the Royal Solar Artistry Gallery, along with a sum of three thousand bits.

Umber hadn't felt as lightheaded since that time Brolly had convinced him to join the "Hundred Mile High Club."

Here he was, though, sitting on a cloud, drawing an image of the monarch and goddess of Equestria. He'd forgotten his paints, but all he planned to do today was preliminary sketching. He'd decided to redo Luna's portrait and send the two in together, but they'd need time and inspiration to complete in any worthwhile way. So he sat, basking in the light of the sun as he honored its steward.

He sighed, and looked up at the clear blue sky. It was a peaceful day.

BAM!

Umber felt his pencil fly out of his mouth and into a nearby grass patch, and he fell for a few meters before extending his wings to halt himself. The sketch of Celestia began to float to the ground as slow as a leaf, giving him plenty of time to catch it and place it in his concealed pocket. His pencil, however, was another matter.

He heard an embarrassed sounding giggle from above, and looked up to see a slightly bashful Rainbow Dash.

"Uh…sorry?" she said.

Ah, so she had flown into him. Not surprising, she'd slammed into the side of the Apple barn during a stallion event only two weeks ago.

Here," she said, "you lost that, right?" She flew nimbly down towards the grass and nabbed the pencil in her mouth. Umber descended towards her, looking grateful if slightly irritated. "Thank you," he said, quietly thanking fate that the picture was undamaged. He could replace a pencil. "What were you doing?"

"Oh, just practicing for the Annual Aerial Athlete Alliance Race. Gotta prove I'm the best in Equestria again. You alright?"

He nodded in affirmative, before continuing, "But, I thought everypony knew you were the best in Equestria. What's left to prove?"

She smiled confidently. "Well, that is true, but I still have to go to competitions. It's not like everyone will believe I'm number one unless I prove it. Besides, it's fun."

"Uh huh." Umber looked down, thoughtfully, before asking another question. "So, in order to be the best at anything, you have to win a contest?"

"Basically."

"And this applies to everything?"

"Yep. Why, you got an idea for one?"

Umber smiled, blushing slightly.

"Maybe."

—|—

It was a momentous undertaking. Umber had called all the stallions of Ponyville into an emergency meeting to plan the event. Doctor Whooves was tasked to help Derpy and the rest of the Equestrian Mail Service deliver the invitations to every stallion in Equestria. The Night Guards were added as a supplement to secretly get the message to the colts of Trottingham, avoiding Tolliker's attentions. They reasoned that only about half of the male population would be interested anyway, Big Macintosh's skills were more legendary than was previously thought.

Then of course, was the selection of the judges. Representing Canterlot was the elegant and sophisticated Fancypants, who would be judging contestants' style (with blessing from Fleur, of course). From Cloudsdale would be Fire Streak, aerial extraordinaire and member of the most elite flyers in Equestria, the Wonderbolts, who would measure skill. Finally, last but most certainly not least, was every stallion's favorite colt, Umber, of Ponyville, and resident expert on passion.

It was certainly going to be an interesting competition.

—|—

Fluttershy sat above the streets and houses, looking out at the scene that stretched throughout Ponyville. Mayor Mare had been ecstatic at the influx of visitors, bringing in thousands of bits as they camped out in their long, winding line. The crowd had made Fluttershy nervous, though, so she had flown to the most secluded space at the moment: the Library balcony.

Twilight was inside, conducting some sort of scientific experiment that had to do with her studies. Pinkie was off helping the various restaurants of Ponyville feed the visitors, and Applejack was filling orders that flooded her nonstop. That left Rarity and Rainbow, both of whom Fluttershy hadn't seen today.

She sighed, and looked out at the lines of stallions. Some of them were very appealing, she had to say, especially a flame colored Pegasus with piercing turquoise eyes. She was too shy to introduce herself to them, though, and Angel wasn't anywhere near her, so she'd just have to sit here and imagine. They'd all come to see Umber anyways.

She sighed again.

"Enjoying the show, are we darling?"

Gasping in fright, Fluttershy whipped around to see Rarity eying her, a big smirk on her face.
"Well, I…um…I—"

"It's fine, darling," said Rarity, interrupting her, "they are quite fine specimens, aren't they? I'd go out to meet them, but I really just stopped by to get a book on suit making. With this many stallions in town, I can't afford not to dabble in colt's-wear, and I'm a tad rusty at it."

"Oh. Do you need any help sewing?"

"No, darling, I'm fine."

The door behind them opened, and Twilight came out onto the balcony, her mane slightly singed at the edges. "Uh, Rarity," she began, "you might not want to go in there for a while. I don't think that smell will come off anypony that touches it without industrial strength cleaners."

"Alright, darling. I guess I can stay a while…enjoy the view."

The three fillies gazed out upon the line and watched as it moved slightly, another stallion entering Umber's house at the far end of town.

"Why are all these ponies out here anyways? Is there some sort of party at Umby's or something?"

Rarity gave her a cynical glance. "Darling, why else would there be a long line of stallions at Umber's house?"

"You don't mean that they all came just for him?" she asked with a hint of disbelief. "Is he that popular?"

"You really do need to get out more, Twilight," said Rarity, "and as for your question, you'd be rather surprised. I've heard Umber's reputation has gotten him solicitation from as far out as the Griffin Countries. He even has a regular visitor from there."

"Wow," was all Twilight had to say.

And so the three resumed their appreciation of the vista, enjoying the peace and quiet (and abundance of fine stallion), at least until Rainbow Dash dropped in unceremoniously, crashing into Twilight and Rarity and knocking them into a pile in the corner of the balcony.

"Hey girlsh!" she cried, seemingly a little tipsy, "you've got to try this shtuff. I found it in the Apple barn."

Fluttershy gasped. "Oh no, Rainbow, you didn't! Applejack said she's been aging that cider for years now."

"Of course not, silly," she slurred, "I just got the cheapy stuff. Now, you, me, gonna go catch us some stallion tail."

"But…but…you know I'm not a one night pony!"

Rainbow rolled her eyes. "Then ask him on a date. Duh. You can be so dumb sometimes, Flutters, but I love ya anyways. Come on, that's it." Rainbow got the dubiously willing pegasus up in the air and soon they were gone, flying erratically down towards a group of stallions.

The two unicorns finally untangled themselves and got back on their hooves. "I say," said Rarity, "Rainbow Dash has never been able to hold her liquor. I'm sorry you had to see her that wa—what, what is it darling?"

Twilight was staring down at an entrance to Ponyville, looking a little panicky, and raised a hoof to point at a lone pony carrying a load of what looked like long rolls of fabric.

Rarity sighed.

"Well fuck."

—|—

Fancypants had to say, he had quite enjoyed himself. It was not quite as good as a night with Fleur, of course, but still enjoyable, and he was quite looking forward to some action with a "Big Macintosh" that the Ponyville judge, Umber was his name, kept going on about. He sounded divine.

That was not to be, though. Just as the large Apple stallion strode through the doors, two mares nearly knocked him out of the way, repeatedly shouting "PRISTINE!"

The chaos that ensued was nothing that he could quite imagine. Umber had cursed somepony not following schedules, and the stallions native to the town began to herd everypony into hiding places. As Fancy was being pushed towards a nearby bedroom, he overheard an argument between Umber and Macintosh.

"But you can't drop out, we have to prove you're the best. We can have somepony else watch Tolliker."

Mac smiled wearily. "You know as well as I do that nopony's as good at it as me. I don't need some big fancy title to be able to make ponies feel good."

"But—"

"Nope. You go on. I'll get Tolliker to the Apple farm. He's here 'bout the contest, I'm sure of it. I'll distract him, he'll be none the wiser." He nuzzled the smaller stallion's mane.

Umber sighed. "Fine. But when you're done, meet me here. We'll have a, uh, unofficial post judging. I'm sure our guests," he gestured towards Fancypants and Fire Streak, "will appreciate it if you give us a taste of your talents."

"I'll be glad to."

And with that, he was off, and after the chaos settled, the contest resumed.

—|—

The night shone with the light from the billions of stars that shone in the sky, and the great white surface of the recently featureless moon. The moonlight cast the truck in a pale glow that offset its bright red paint, and gently illuminated the two ponies as they worked.

"So, I just unscrew this bolt, and replace it?" asked Tolliker, who was sitting near a wheel of the truck.

"Eeyup." said Big Macintosh.

The unicorn's horn lit up, and a few parts exchanged themselves within his telekinetic grip. He heard a light click and rose. "Am I done?"

"Eeyup."

Tollie turned towards him, a big grin plastered on his face. "So, how'd I do?"

"Ya did great. I'd say maybe even," he pulled a light blue ribbon from his yoke, "first place great."

Mouth dropping open in surprise, Tolliker wrapped his forehooves around Macintosh's neck. "Oh, tahnk you thank you thank you thank you! I've got to go, but I won't forget this. I'll get you a new cowpony hat. Or maybe a fedora. Or a dress hat. Or an ushan—"

"That's fine, Tollie. You jus' go on home now."

The hatter smiled again. "Oh, okay. Still, thank you again!" He picked up his bag of fabric, which was nearby, and began to trot all the way back to his shop.

Macintosh watched his form fall over the horizon, before beginning his own trek back into town.

—|—

Umber was asleep on the couch, his sweater thrown over onto a nearby table.

"Umby, you awake?"

The artist turned a little, and sat up upon seeing his visitor, cracking his neck. "Hey, Big Mac. How was it?"

"Fine. He didn't 'spect a thing."

Umber smiled. "You always did know how to get rid of him best."

They sat in silence for a moment, before Big Mac continued. "So, how was the contest?"

"Oh, some pony from Fillydelphia won, I dunno. " He turned to look at Mac. "He was nothing compared to you, though."

The bigger stallion let his chin rest on Umber's head, and stayed silent.

"No, he was nothing compared to you."

—|—

Next week's episode shall be entitled "Handkerchiefs, a Reference Guide."

S1E3: Handkerchiefs, A Reference Guide

Season I Episode 3: Handkerchiefs, a Reference Guide

—|—

Music flowed out of the bar like storm surges during a hurricane, forcing everypony around to scream if they wanted their partners to hear them. The building itself was a nondescript cube, with skyward lights of various colors beaming into the night sky from about its perimeter. The line for the club stretched out, beyond the grassy hill it rested on, the plain steel doors of the entrance guarded by the best bouncer in Equestria, Ziggy Stardust, as simple metal letters above spelled out a name.

LA DISCOTHÈQUE ÉTALONS

They stood about twenty ponies from the entrance, with an estimated wait of only thirteen minutes. Coconut stood at the front of the pack, plain lavender shirt cut in a dramatic diagonal at his neck highlighting his violet eyes. Behind him stood, in order, Lucky, Umber, and Written Script. Further back, Rarity stood, hitched to a large black cube on a pair of wheels.

Lucky turned towards her. "Rarity, are you sure you don't want to just give us our outfits now? Coconut's already got his on."

She shook her head profusely. "No, no, no, no, that wouldn't do at all. You might get them," she gasped, " … dirty. Besides, I haven't decided which ones will work on you boys best anyhow."

"How many do you have in there anyways?" asked Script.

"Oh, just about forty." She looked at the other ponies, whose jaws had dropped in astonishment. "What? You don't expect me to go without options? I mean, really, why else would I have invented the Wonderfully Wieldy Wardrobe."

"We know, Rarity," replied Umber, jumping in the conversation, "but doesn't it seem a little … extreme?"

"Darling, there are no extremes in the way of FASHION!" She looked forward, noticing that they had inched much closer to the entrance. "Although, I suppose I should go ahead and have you all change. Can't have you wrestling into your ensembles at the door, can we? So unseemly."

The cube unhitched from her back, and they watched as its featureless faces fragmented and extended outward, revealed several rows of finely pressed fabric constructs tucked inside, hung neatly on a long metal bar.

"Wow, Rarity, that's—"

"Yes, yes, just get in there; we only have a few moments." With an uncharacteristic burst of magic, she levitated the three stallions over towards, took a few glances between them and the wardrobe, and slapped their clothes on.

Written Script found himself in a finely spun, forest green tunic. Adorning his breast was a delicately embroidered, maroon rose that sparkled from glittering thread spun through its design.

Lucky, instead, was in a cream dress shirt and a simply cut brown suit. The shirt's collar was undone, leaving it open and exposing a bit of the blue coat of his lower neck.

Much like what he always wore, Umber's top was a long-sleeved, warmly striped shirt. Added to it, for sake of flair, was a trail of like-colored diamonds that extended from the turn of his jaw down past the lower hem.

Rarity had done it again. The three looked fantastic, fit as a fiddle to get into the most strictly controlled fashion environment in Equestria. La Discothèque was run by a mysterious pony, le Beinfaiteur. All that was known about him was that he was rich, sponsored the club, and had the most draconian dress code since Photo Finish had run her own hairdressing school.

Looking over them, pleased, Rarity nodded slightly. "Yes, those will do nicely. Well then, if you'll excuse me, I shall take my leave."

"Wait," asked Umber, "you mean you're just going to let us have these? For free?"

She grinned. "Of course, dear. And when the other stallions drop dead at your hooves, you can direct them to the Boutique. I'll be sure to make up the costs in less than a week." Noting the increasingly smaller distance to the front entrance, she hitched herself back to the Wardrobe. "And I've got some work to do, so I'll see you when you get back to Ponyville. Tata."

Watching the line shrink even shorter, she began to walk back down the hill, looking back every so often to see the four stallions eventually meet the door and be welcomed in. She sighed … it had been a long time since she'd gone to such an establishment. Maybe she'd go the next time, but she really did have to—

Oh no.

Not that.

Twilight was walking up the line towards the cube, her lavender form graced by a sparkling blue shirt with loose sleeves that Rarity was sure she hadn't seen before. Next to her … next to her was Tolliker, in a black diagonal cut shirt and a matching fedora that made him rather handsome, if still as oblivious as always.

Rarity didn't have a choice, of course. Turning, she raised her head to provide maximum volume.

"CODE PRIST—"

She felt a hoof suddenly silence her, and glared frightfully at its owner. "Twilight," she hissed through the grip, "what are you doing?"

Twilight began to explain. "I'm bringing Tollie to the Discothèque."

Rarity's eyebrows lowered in an expression of malice. "And you think this is a good idea because … why?"

The other unicorn glanced at Tolliker, who was still standing there, curious about what the two's exchange. "Well, since nopony has ever told about the … uh … nightclub, I thought maybe if I showed him it would work better. Make him less ignorant … about the nightclub, of course."

Realization dawned on Rarity. Nopony was ever able to educate Tolliker verbally, so Twilight was going to try it visually.

Smart, but a massive opportunity for disaster, and knowing Tolliker …

"Twilight, I'm not exactly sure that would be the best of ideas … La Discothèque is a bit, ah, unruly at times. I'd rather not see either of you two, hurt in anyway."

The librarian stood, steadfast. "Well, we'll take our chances. I had Celestia get us a pass to skip the line, but it's only good for tonight." At Rarity's second attempt to protest, she offered, "Rarity, if you want, you can come too. The pass is good for up to two ponies, other than me."

"I … you … fine, if you insist." She looked back at the Wardrobe. "But there's still the question of what to do with this."

Twilight put a hoof in her mouth and whistled. A Pegasus guard floated down from above, and hitched himself to the Wardrobe. Rarity blinked. "Uh … one moment, please." Rarity drew a medium length red dress and quickly threw it on. The guard looked expectantly at her. "Uh, to the Carousel Boutique? Please?" Nodding courteously, the Pegasus hitched himself to the wardrobe and ascended.

"Are we ready yet?" asked Tolliker, who glanced impatiently at the other two unicorns.

"Yes Tolliker, I suppose we'll go now," said Twilight. And so the three began their trek to the Discothèque Étalons."

—|—

Written Script gestured towards the bartender, a hip young mare with a violently pink mane. "Hey, could I get another Magic Twister over here?" A blue hoof grabbed his hoof and slammed it down.

"No," slurred Lucky, "No, he'll jusht take mine." He took his own glass filled with a milky, electric blue concoction and shoved it over towards Script, who sighed at him.

"You know, I told you that drink was only meant for unicorns. I dunno what it does to you earth pony's brains, but it's certainly not good."

Lucky rolled his eyes. "Yesh, yesh, you've already given me the whole damn lekshure. I'll remember neksht time."

"Good," said Written, "I don't want to have to drag your sorry passed-out butt out of here."

Eyes rolling again, Lucky let his head loll back in an obvious display of drunkenness. He watched the hooves on the transparent platform above him move in rhythmic waves as the music blasted from the booth tucked in the corner of the establishment.
As boxy as the place looked on the outside, it was an expansive circular space on the interior, with walls that gently sloped around the patrons and angled upwards towards the dark skylight above, which revealed a grand display of stars and, on certain nights, the moon itself. Four pillars graced by private balconies rose from the rough corners of the room upward, and they supported the glass dance floor that rested above the round bar where Lucky and Written were now sitting.

His head fell back down, his temples pulsing painfully from both his own intoxication and the booming notes. He looked to his right, at Written, whose purple mane still sloped in that gentle upwards curve around his horn, which glowed with the magic levitating his drink. Rarity's green tunic really set off his eyes tonight.

Those eyes turned to him. "Lucky? You okay?" he asked, after taking an intent swig.

"Yep," he said, still staring straight at him, "perfectly fine."

Written blushed, before turning to stare into his drink. "I … I wonder how Umber's doing right now," he deflected, oblivious to Lucky's growing smile behind him.

—|—

Umber stared at the little top hat that rested on the toothpick emerging from the layers of licorice and vanilla drink in the glass. He was at the smaller bar, off the dance floor to provide a brief respite to patrons between sessions of furious movement.

He'd sat here for the past dozen or so songs, though. As hard as the rhythmic beats pumping through the air tried to move him, he found himself lethargic in the face of them. It was odd; he'd looked forward to this night for several weeks, but nothing seemed right. The music was off, the drinks were a tad sour, and all the ponies were disinterested and self-absorbed.

So he just let his gold eyes linger on that little hat. His ear twitched as something odd seemed to enter the music, like a whisper. It certainly didn't fit the music.

It repeated itself, and he drew his head up in investigation, turning to the right. His eyes widened in surprise at the filly next to him, done up in a beautiful mahogany sweater whose right shoulder seemed to be composed entirely of a fabric tree, and whose flowing pink mane fell in parts down her back.

He realized the whisper had been her voice struggling to overpower the music. "Fluttershy! What are you doing here?"

"Oh, just, um, out with Sunburst."

Umber smiled, thinking of the orange stallion who she'd met and hit it off while he had been waiting in line for the rimming competition. He hadn't been able to test his skills, but based on reports from other ponies regarding Fluttershy's post-coitus hair he'd found that they generally agreed he'd been a fantastic lay.

"Really? How're you two doing?"

She blushed, flustered. "Oh, he's wonderful. He's nice, and kind, and he loves animals. He works at the weather factory in Cloudsdale, and he's big and strong and … um … " She trailed off, her blush intensifying and her eyes dropping towards the ground in introversion.

Chuckling, Umber continued for her. "I get what you mean. So, what brings you to La Discothèque?"

Somehow her flushed cheeks grew redder. "Uh … well, Sunburst wants us to, err … share. A stallion. And I … uh, said yes. To sharing … " she petered out awkwardly before quickly changing the subject. "So, what brings you here?"

"Oh, you know, the usual night out with friends. I'm just over here resting before I go back to the dance floor," he lied. He didn't want to tint her night with his own problems.

"Oh, well, who did you come with?" she asked, genuinely curious. He answered, and the two became embroiled in conversation; two friends among a throng of frantic strangers.

—|—

Tolliker's initiation of sorts into the club went rather smoothly.

Twilight slipped him into the crowd, while Rarity took a position on an overhead balcony to keep watch of the mass of dancers, and to make sure nothing went wrong.

Surprisingly, nothing seemed to happen. Nopony groped either Twilight or Tolliker, nor did anyone even talk to them. All they did was dance, moving with the flow of the music.

It was rather boring to be honest.

Rarity picked at the red material of her dress. It wasn't one of her best creations, honestly; she'd used it to test whether the Wardrobe collapsed properly without damaging its contents and had simply been too lazy to take the thing out. Oh well … at least nopony would flirt with her while she was in the hideous thing.

A well-groomed Pegasus stallion appeared next to the platform, balancing a drink skillfully on his back. "Your drink, madam?"

She smiled at him half-politely and levitated the drink over to the little table on the platform. "Thank you, sir," she said, with a veneer of civility, before levitating a few bits into the small pocket wrapped around his neck. If he was offended by her rudeness, he didn't show it, disappearing silently and quickly back to the bar.

Sighing, she returned her gaze to the throng of ponies, taking a sip from her drink.

And spitting it out as she saw Twilight waving her hooves desperately up at her, distressed.

Tolliker was nowhere in sight.

—|—

" … And then, this is the best part, he dropped the ENTIRE CAKE on us. Macintosh was scrubbing icing out of his coat for weeks."

Fluttershy gasped. "Did you hire him again?"

"Of course," Umber snorted, "it's not like it was his fault; we were the ones who had covered the floor in plastic wrap. Ponet had accidentally gotten the adhesive kind instead of the plain. Not a fun experience. Anyhow, yeah … that's the story of the first time the Cakes catered at one of our events. Not quite as exciting as that time an elephant stormed through yours, I'm sure."

She smiled slightly, embarrassed. "Well … yes, Sir Humphrey does like his peanut brittle … he just got a little exci—"

"Hey, Flutters," interrupted a bright orange Pegasus, dressed in an immaculate gold-trimmed red ochre suit. "Who's your friend?" he asked, turning towards Umber in friendly curiosity, his blue eyes bright even in the dim atmosphere of the club.

"I'm Umber. You must be Sunburst, Fluttershy's told me about you," he said, reaching a hoof out to shake the fellow Pegasus's. "I've heard you're looking for a … uh … partner."

"We were, but I think I've found one. He's right here." He moved aside, revealing a handsome blonde earth pony.

Umber smirked. "Hello, Coconut."

"H-hello, Umber," replied the stallion, a faint blush gracing his cheeks.

"Wait, you two know each other?" asks Sunburst, his eyes flitting between the two.

"Of course," Umber continued, still smirking and letting his voice take on a twinge of smooth suede. "You'll like him, I can say that from … experience." He gave a quick glance at the three ponies, watched as Coconut's blush intensified and spread to the other two. "Anyhow, you three get off. You'll have quite an … active time, tonight. Go on, shoo, shoo," he said; motioning with his hooves for them to leave, "I'll be right as rain here."

Sunburst and Fluttershy thanked him, while Coconut gave him a quick nuzzle, before the three partners weaved their way through the thronging crowd to exit through the double doors.

Sighing, Umber turned back towards the bar; the little top hat was exactly as it was. Nothing had changed. He sighed again.

"Uh, pardon me, but are you Monsieur Umber?" asked a gruff but sophisticated voice, tangling with the Fancy term as if it were a tangy dessert.

Umber nodded in affirmative, not even turning to look at this stallion.

"Ah, well, I have been instructed to collect you. Le Beinfaiteur has asked for an audience."

At this, Umber turned his head to look at the pony incredulously before his mind went completely blank.

Pale, ice blue spikes rose into the smoky air of the club from his steel grey coat, the sharp diagonal of his muzzle statuesque, cutting through the shadows surrounding the bar. His deep blue eyes looked into Umber's with passive authority, his eyebrows a repetition of the decisive diagonals that marked his being. Lips drawn up in a polite but still slightly warm smile, he had the face of a pony who could command a room, who could freeze a crowd with one shout, who could stop a miscreant with one icy look.

Ziggy Stardust, best bouncer in Equestria. As a plus, drop-dead gorgeous. Umber felt his mouth go dry and his legs go to jelly; he'd have fallen over if the stool hadn't been below him.

The bouncer titled his head inquisitively. "Monsieur?"

Blinking, Umber remembered what the pony in front of him just asked. "Uh … le Beinfaiteur? The owner of this place? Asked for me?" His eyebrows raised in disbelief.

Ziggy was calm as ever. "Yes, he is quite interested in making your acquaintance. I believe he has some business for you. If you would follow me, please?"

Business? With le Beingaiteur? This was too good to be true.

Furiously nodding, Umber rose from his stool, reduced to shaking from the presence of the attractive stallion in front of him and the imminent meeting with the most mysterious stallion in all the land. Ziggy turned, elegantly striding forth, the crowd parting before his commanding gaze.

Umber did as best he could to try to follow with the same grace.

—|—

"You know, you've got the prettiest green eyesh. They're like leavesh on the ground."

Written rolled his eyes, "Yes, Lucky, perfect metaphor." He had to admit, even with the drunken wooing his cheeks burnt, and his stomach fluttered like butterflies carried on a spring breeze.

Lucky sat, silent, his own blue eyes still meeting Written's, with periodic lapses as his balance failed for a moment, before they again met their mark.

They'd been friends for a while. Since they were little colts on the playground, the two had gotten along, but they had never been incredibly close. Only recently, in the last few weeks, had they begun to hang out more, going on outings with various other mutual friends. This outing had been Coconut's idea—the rum brewer was connected enough that he could get into the exclusive club. So they'd come, expecting to have a good time dancing and horsing around with the other two stallions, enjoying everypony's company.

Now they sat at a bar, Lucky drinking in Written's companionship. In his drunken antics, the earth pony had talked about the investment firm he ran in Ponyville, and how in his spare time he was a sort of art patron. It was how he knew Umber; the artist had received a rather large commission from him, and the two had grown to be friends as Lucky oversaw the final works.

The firm had even helped produce one of Written's plays, Pegasi in Equestria. He'd written it after a rather bad breakup with a coltfriend, who'd left him destitute and homeless. That play had gotten him back on his own four hooves again, back on his own foundation.

He wondered if that was why he had these feelings. Were the Magic Twisters getting to his head, and muddling up his sense of graciousness? Or was it something more?

"You know, I don't ekshpect anything from you," Lucky said, interrupting Written's contemplation, "I know it must be awkward, having an old produsher coming onto you … I'd undershtand if you wanted me to shtop."

"No, that's fine," replied Written, almost too quickly. He turned to look at the pony, his eyes widening as he found their muzzles less than an inch from each other.

Lucky's breath was laced with the scent of fine alcohol with a tint of magic. "It's fine," repeated Written, and he leaned in—

"LUCKY! WRITTEN! CODE PRISTINE!"

Lucky fell back in his stool, and Written turned to look at the two mares now yelling at him, and cursed.

It was going to be a long night.

—|—

The ascent up the stairs was swift and quiet. Umber had done the best he could to avoid watching Ziggy's hips sway, and he was thankful when the pony stopped in front of a nondescript door and turned his front towards him.

"One moment, let me check if he's busy." Ziggy lightly opened the door, and Umber heard a snobbish, elegant voice say something about the "rise of the stars" before the bouncer quickly shut the door.

"Ah, I am afraid he is … occupied at the moment. I apologize for the inconvenience."

"It's fine," said Umber, who was still shivering, "I wasn't doing anything anyway."

Ziggy nods. "I am sorry for that as well, it is always a pity to hear that a patron is not fully enjoying the Discoth—wait, are you shaking?" His tight smile dropped to a concerned frown, and he stepped towards Umber, investigating.

"Oh no, I'm fine," Umber lied, "I'm just a bit nervous is all." Who wouldn't be, standing next to you?, he nearly added, but he controlled himself. This was just another stallion … no need to get worked up.
"Ah. I wouldn't be. Your work has been making rounds in Canterlot since the last exhibition. My employer is interested in your … intriguing representations of the male form. He applauds your shamelessness … as do I." At the last remark, the bouncer's gaze dropped for a moment, his cheeks flushing ever so slightly, before he resumed his composition. "I was the guard at the last showing of your work … your command of color and light is incredibly impressive; I've only seen better in the stained glass windows of Canterlot Tower."

Umber blinked at the impassive stallion. "Uh—thank you. I didn't know how well my last exhibition was going to be received. I got a little … risqué with it, I must admit."

"Ah, but it went over pretty darn well, didn't it?" asked Ziggy, his professional façade beginning to drop ever so slightly, his voice beginning to roughen at the edges, become more friendly. "And your models! I heard the Equestrian Post had incredible trouble getting all those letters begging for you to let them pose for you."

"Well … yeah. But I don't take just anypony … I have to know them. I have to know them well, you know? I don't take just anypony. They have to be special … eye-catching, or passionate, or commanding. They've got to steal my heart, for a moment. L-like you did … you would be an excellent model."

Ziggy grinned widely, all pretense of stoicism dropped. "I'd like that," he said, and leaned in to crush his lips against the tip of Umber's nose, his breath brushing the top of the Pegasus's muzzle. He stopped, feeling Umber's own breathing touch his lips, and smiled. "I'd like that very much."

The two held their gaze for a moment, before Ziggy retreated. "I'm sorry, but I'm sure le Beinfaiteur is done now, and he gets upset if I take too long. Please, come in," he requests, using a hoof to swing open the door.

It was an office, clearly, done up in cold blues and dark greys, modern and sleekly composed of circles backtracking on rectangles that themselves backtrack on elegant curves. A desk framed by a slatted window sat in the middle of the space, a stallion with pale blue tinted glasses; a silver streaked coiffure mane sat atop his grayish lavender head.

Umber gasped. "Hoity Toity? The Hoity Toity? You're le Beinfaituer?"

Grinning elegantly, Hoity strode out from behind his desk, holding himself with a regal air to challenge even the Princesses. "Good evening, Mister Umber. I am here to discuss a business deal."

The artist blinked. "O-of course. What would you like to … er … discuss?"

Tilting his head in towards the pony, he continued. "Very simple, Mister Umber. I would like to employ you to create the images for my next fashion catalogue. None of my artists can quite capture the stallion form like you do … and I'd like to use your skill to my advantage. You will be paid handso—"

"I'll do it!" Umber cried.

Hoity smiled in surprise. "My my, such enthusiasm. I'll visit your studio in Ponyville when I get the instructions compiled. Until then, merci, mon petite artiste, et adieu. Stardust, please escort him back into the club. I would have you as a guest longer, dear Umber, but I'm afraid I have some urgent busi—"

A shrill yell began to emanate from the window behind the desk, and Ziggy ran towards it along with Umber. The sound repeated, the words clear as day.

"CODE PRISTINE!"

Umber cursed to Luna under his breath. Ziggy turned to him. "What was that?"

Turning to answer the two ponies, Umber's face drooped in an expression of fatigue. "It's Tolliker. Come on, I'll explain on the way."

It was going to be a long night.

—|—

"I still don't see how you could lose an entire stallion. I mean, really Twilight, this was your plan." Rarity was frantic and panicky, who knew how much damage Tolliker could inflict in a club full of horny, excited ponies that would most definitely be out for his hide. More importantly, what damage could they inflict on him?

"I don't know! He was just … one minute he'd just vanished!" Twilight was equally fraught, her wide eyes dancing to and fro as she despairingly scanned the crowd in futile search for the hatter. As it had been for the last half-hour, he was still nowhere to be found.

Written appeared next to Rarity, bags under his eyes. "I've asked everypony I could, nothing. I'm sorry, girls, we're going to have to see the management."

"The management's already here, Written," said Umber, who walked up to the group followed by Ziggy, who was scanning the crowd as well. "Where was he last?"

"We were on the dance floor, and he left my view for a moment," said Twilight, "and Rarity was distracted from her overhead view and now he's gone. We've searched the entire club, no trace."

"It's okay, Twi," soothed Umber, "It's not like—"

"He's in the Souterrain," interrupted Ziggy. "Fancy for Subterranean. It’s the room under the club, exclusive, meant for more … intimate encounters. From what Umber tells me about your friend, we need to get there, and get there fast. Come on," he ordered, turning and swiftly trotting over towards one of the more isolated columns, the rest of the search party following suit.

Upon reaching a section of the club that seemed to be a tad more isolated, overshadowed by one of the tremendous columns, Ziggy pressed a hoof against an otherwise ordinary patch of wall. There was the sound of gears turning, a steady ticking of clockwork, and a square section of the wall suddenly dematerialized below them, leaving them to fall though open air until they struck the soft fabric of what seemed to be a massive pillow.

"Arrêtez-vous!" boomed Ziggy, and immediately several banks of lights flickered on, revealing a horde of ponies engaged in activities that would have made the most experienced gentlepony stallion blush (case in point, even Umber averted his eyes).

"We have a stray patron, here. Where is Tolliker? I know somepony brought him dow—"

"UMBER! Over here!" called a voice, and the crowd parted to reveal a waving stallion, his hat askew and his shirt ruffled.

More interesting, however, was the multitude of colorful handkerchiefs that were half-stuffed into the various pockets of his shirt, tied around his neck, and even attached to his hat. Most were light or dark blue, with a few grey, but thankfully everpony had had the good courtesy to leave out any brown or black. Tolliker looked at the group with pride, thrusting his chest forward to better display his "prizes." "So, aren't they awesome?"

Umber's mouth was open in shock, and Twilight stared on in confusion as Written simply shook his head. Rarity stepped in, "Yes, darling, quite nice. Could you, uh, come back up, please? You gave us quite the scare."

"Oh. Well, I just came down here with these guys," he said, gesturing at a group of confused looking stallions clad in tight leather jackets. "They're really nice."

"I'm sure they are, but … eh … well …." she trailed off, unable to come up with a response in the absurdity of the situation.

"What she means, dear Tolliker," Ziggy cut in, giving a slight wink at Rarity and Umber, "is that Umber has suddenly gotten an order from a very important customer, and he needs to go home and get his rest so he might work on it best he can." It wasn't technically a lie.

"Oh, well you should have just told me. I was just playing Pin the Tail on the Pony with these guys anyways. You should have seen how fast some of them could do it, they're fantastic … " he rambled on, walking off with Rarity, Twilight, Written, and Ziggy towards the lift that led back into the main arena of the club. Umber stayed behind, giving a long hard look at the stallions standing shyly around the area where Tolliker had been.

"You boys didn't do anything to him, did you?" he asked, icy.

A particularly well built stallion flinched scoffed. "Of course not. We would never take advantage of a pony who didn't want it. Who do you think we are, barbarians?"

Umber smiled grimly. "Just checking." With that, he walked off, and the lights of the Souterrain flicked back, leaving the ponies in darkness.

—|—

Lucky stared at the deep purple swirls in the glass, silver glitter trailing in lazy circles. It smelled of purple and tasted of night with hints of stars, which was probably why the Constellation Proxy was the Princess Luna's favorite drink. To Lucky, it just tasted like blueberries. Overripe blueberries.

"Hey, Lucky."

The earth pony looked up to see tired purple eyes looking back at him. "Written! You're back. I wash wondering when you'd be back."

Chuckling lightly, Written leaned forward and nuzzled a nose against Lucky's snout. "Yeah. Look, I-I want to tell you that I've been thinking … I think I might like to, uh, try this. Us, I mean." His gaze turned off to the side, a rosy tint blossoming on his cheeks.

Lucky pecked him on the snout and smiled. "I think I'd like that ash well. Now, letsh get home. We can talk more on your coucsh."

Written grinned and stood up, and Lucky rose to join him.

The two stallions strode out of the bar, their shirts ruffled, their manes unkempt, and their tails intertwined.

—|—

There was a knock at the door.

Umber rose half-heartedly from his position on the couch, his club attire thrown over the back of a nearby chair, and trotted up towards the door, cracking his neck and pulling the door open.

Ziggy stood in the doorway, smiling. "Hello, Umber."

Grinning back, Umber opened the door, stepping out of the threshold. "Come in. And call me Umby, Ziggy."

"Okay," he said, walking in. "I … I wanted to apologize for the loss of your friend to the Souterrain tonight."

"It's fine, he gets himself stuck in the weirdest of situations. They didn't do anything to him, so it's all good. Twilight's rather disappointed her experiment didn't work out … but you can't catch them all, can you?"

"No, you most certainly cannot," he laughed. "Actually, that is one of the reasons I have come. My employer wants you to know that he might have an idea of what's affecting Tolliker, but he's going to visit the Canterlot Archives to make sure. He'll bring the documents along with his commission information when he visits for that."

"Oh, that would be excellent. That would make my life much simpler. Thank him for me."

"I shall." Ziggy's ears drooped slightly, his eyes not matching Umber's exactly. "As for my other business … I have … I have come to model, if you please."

Umber blinked. "Now? I'm afraid I'm not really in the best of states to pai—"

"No," said Ziggy, his lips drawn up in a tiny smile. "I came to stay the night."

"Ah," smiled Umber.

It was going to be a long night.

—|—

Next week's episode shall be entitled "In Vino, Veritas."