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The 4chan Chronicles

by theworstwriter

Chapter 11: Rarity's Guest

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>You were just finishing up the most FANTASTIC ensemble ever when a VERY RUDE AND INCONSIDERATE PONY burst through your front door.
>You put on your best fake smile.
>"Rainbow Dash, how lovely to see you. Can I... help you?"
>She's tracking mud everywhere.
>There's some horrid beast following behind her.
>"And THIS is Rarity. She makes clothes and junk, so she can probably put together something for you."
>"While I suppose I could, I do happen to be a little busy at the moment."
>"Aw that's fine, he's not going anywhere, right Anon?"
>The big... ape... thing nods.
>"Not going to move. I'd love to stay right here and watch... Rarity, you said? I'd love to watch Rarity at work. Fashion is a FASCINATING industry."
>You crack a smile. Perhaps you shouldn't be quite so quick to judge a book by its cover.
>"Oh go right ahead, dear. I was just finishing up and I shan't be more than a few minutes. Really, I just need to select a color for this hem here and I'll be practically done."
>"Cerulean."
>You aren't facing the creature, but your eyebrow raises. You mentally apply his suggestion and it's... perfect.
>Is it hot in here, or is it just you?

>You finish your work and turn to face the beast.
>His outfit is in tatters. The poor dear, no wonder he wanted new clothing.
>"Thank you, er... Anon, was it?"
>"Anonymous. Anon for short. Enchante, Mademoiselle."
>"Oh, such a gentleman. So, do you work in fashion?"
>"I'm afraid not."
>"You have quite an eye for color."
>Dash backs up toward the door.
>"Alright guys, I'm gonna go. Got awesome... stuff. To do. Yeah."
>The door closes behind her.
>"So I take it you aren't from around here then?"
>"Oh no. Not even Equestria, though I must admit I am enjoying it here."
>Your stomach makes a very un-ladylike rumble and you titter sheepishly.
>"I do apologize. I'm afraid I tend to get caught up in my work and neglect everything else."
>"It's not a problem. We all have needs. In fact, I haven't eaten all day."
>"What? That simply won't do! Come, let's do something about this."
>You lead him into the kitchen and are about to set yourself to cooking something.
>"Excuse me?"
>"Yes?"
>"May I?"
>Oh goodness, he cooks too?
>"Please, be my guest."
>A few minutes later, you're very nearly in heaven. So he doesn't work in fashion? Then he simply MUST be a chef. It's the most exquisite meal you've had in ages.

>He looks out the window. You follow suit.
>It is rather late.
>He looks nervous.
>"I don't suppose I could trouble you... for a place to sleep?"
>"Why, you've been shown around town by my friends and not one of them has offered you lodging? That cannot stand and I must INSIST you stay here, though I will require you to... ahem... bathe first."
>"I understand completely. I am a bit filthy. The trouble, though, is that I haven't a change of clothes."
>Now THAT is a tragedy that must not go uncorrected.
>"I'll whip something up for you. I can't promise it'll be particularly glamorous on such short notice, but it should be quite serviceable."
>He nods happily and you point him to the shower.
>You cobble together a pathetic shirt and pants that you wouldn't call anything more impressive than rags, but still they are better than what he was wearing.
>You trot over to the shower, still in use, and knock on the door.
>"...yes?"
>"Anonymous? I'm leaving your new outfit just outside the door here."
>"Oh. Thank you very much. I'll be out in just a moment."
>You pick up his old scraps, helpfully left hanging on the doorknob, and seal them in your 'to be burned' hamper.
>On your way back, he's standing in the hall picking up his new clothes.
>He's very naked, and it's strange that that's strange. Why is his unclothed state something to gawk at?
>Why are you GAWKING?
>You immediately about face and hide your blushing face.
>"So sorry."
>"No, I'm the one who's sorry. I'm afraid I used the last of that HEAVENLY shampoo."
>By Celestia this creature is incredible. Why can't you find a colt like HIM?

>Your body seems to think you already have and now you can't decide which way to face, as either direction is equally embarrassing for different but related reasons.
>You opt to turn around again and feel very silly to find he is already back behind the door.
>And why wouldn't he be? He recognized the situation and took proper action to correct it. He's speaking politely from the other side.
>You have a sudden and intense hatred for your body.
>This... this CREATURE may be a perfect gentleman...
>Who both cares for and is knowledgeable about fashion...
>And by CELESTIA can he cook...
>And who happens to have excellent taste in shampoo...
>Why are you rationalizing this? You're a pony. He is not. End of discussion.
>He steps out, looking rather dashing considering he's wearing such a shoddily assembled outfit.
>Your heart flutters a bit.
>NO. STOP THAT.
>But he's so perfect!
>Your hindquarters-
>NO. STOP. THAT.
>"Ahem. Anonymous?"
>"Yes, milady?"
>OH MY. PLEASE stop doing this! You can't handle it!
>"Would you..."
>What are you doing?
>"... like to accompany me..."
>WHAT ARE YOU DOING?
>"... to Canterlot this weekend?"
>WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU YOU STUPID SLUT?

>He frowns.
>"I'm... afraid I can't. My time here is rather limited."
>Your heart sinks. WHY IS IT DOING THAT?
>"Oh, that's quite alright. Just a friendly offer."
>Yeah. Friendly. And Twilight is prettier than you.
>And Applejack has the best pokerface you've ever seen.
>And Rainbow Dash is straight.
>What were you thinking about again?
>Right, of course. This hot hunk of-
>STOP THAT.
>This... fine upstanding fellow is only here temporarily.
>So really, that's even better. A long term relationship would be tricky across species, but one wild night of passion? That neither of you would ever speak of?
>It's PERFECT.
>And also disgusting and wrong and stop it.
>You close up the conversation, deciding to turn in for the evening before you make a mistake.
>He waltzes into the guest room and you flop morosely onto your bed.
>The ONE creature...
>No, not quite. The one MALE who's a perfect match for you just happens to be biologically incompatible.
>Your hindquarters-
>NO. STOP THAT.
>But you AREN'T incompatible physically! Just reproductively! Which is smashing because that means you don't even need protection and-
>STOP
>THAT
>THIS
>INSTANT

>You can't sleep. You can't stop thinking about the potential for a steamy fling in the dark of the night, just like in all those romance novels.
>And he's just soooooooo perfect.
>The ONLY problem is that he's not a pony, and even that isn't entirely-
>WHAT DID I TELL YOU ABOUT THAT AND WHETHER OR NOT YOU SHOULD STOP IT?
>But he... you saw it, and you can't deny the positives. His species is larger in general.
>He was rather well endowed, and lately your paramours have left you unsatisfied-
>AGAIN. THAT. SHOULD YOU STOP IT? THE ANSWER AT ELEVEN.
>BY THE WAY IT HAPPENS TO BE ELEVEN RIGHT NOW AND THE ANSWER IS YES.
>Against all reason, you get out of bed.
>You're going to miss out on beauty sleep.
>Also he might say no!
>Why would he say no to you? You're positively fabulous!
>WHY ARE YOU ENTERTAINING THESE IDEAS. DIDN'T WE GO OVER SOMETHING JUST A MOMENT AGO?
>You quietly trot down the hall.
>His door is ajar.
>You peek in and try to see, but it's quite dark.
>He appears to be awake and... reading?
>You can't quite make out the cover of the book, but it appears to be two figures embracing.
>On a cliffside.
>Above the ocean.
>You feel faint.
>On top of everything else. On top of ALL his amazing qualities... he ALSO reads romance novels?
>This deal. It is sealed.
>You put on your best pair of bedroom eyes and sashay into the room.

>He sets the book down and looks up at you.
>"Rarity, can I help you?"
>You place one hoof on the edge of the bed and lean over.
>"Oh you most certainly can."
>"I don't... we can't."
>You trace your hoof down his side.
>"Oh I know, and I wrestled with the same questions, but don't you see? It can be our little secret. Just between us and this room."
>Your hoof is now just resting just above his hip.
>"Really, we can't... I mean... you're... I'm..."
>You let out an exaggerated sigh.
>"Believe me, I understand. For hours now I've been trying to tell myself the same thing, but it just doesn't matter."
>He flips on the light and gets a puzzled look on his face.
>"I'm not certain I understand. It absolutely DOES matter."
>"Only because society is too conservative to embrace true passion!"
>"... Rarity, I think there's been a lack of communication here."
>"There has been a lack of a lot of things. Like you making love to me. Preferably right now."
>"Rarity, I'm afraid I must decline your advances. I love fashion and cooking and hair care."
>"As do I! Come now, there is no shame in fulfilling a basic biological need!"
>He sighs.
>"Maybe things are different here. I guess I need to just spell it out for you. I'm a gigantic flaming faggot."
>"A... a what?"
>"I'm GAY. Oh if you were a stallion I would absolutely mount you, here and now, but you're a mare. I'm just... my body isn't interested."
>Well YOUR body is and this issue is not over!
>"Can you... can you close your eyes and pretend?"

>He left quietly in the morning before you woke up.
>Maybe you need a second cat.

Next Chapter: Pinkie does stuff. Was this one supposed to be funny? It's not. Estimated time remaining: 4 Hours, 54 Minutes
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The 4chan Chronicles

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