A Midnight Legends Press Production

Charmingly Rustic

Written by: Your Antagonist (VegaKS03) & Starwind Dood

Edited By: TheWattsMan & Starwind Dood

Chapter 1: A Life Preserver in the Plastic Ocean

Fancy Pants woke up to the broken rays of the early morning sun shining weakly through the half-open Venetian blinds of his penthouse suite in Canterlot. Sitting up in his queen sized bed he stretched his forelegs outward as a surge of electricity surged through his spine eradicating any restlessness that his body accrued during the night.

He took a moment to indulge in the bliss that morning provided, though it was quickly shattered by the sound of obnoxiously loud snoring emanating not three feet from himself. With an irritated glance he looked upon the source of the noise and was filled with a level of relative disgust at the pony who lay next to him: Fleur de Lis.

But it wasn’t Fleur De Lis herself that caused the immediate disgust in him, in fact it wasn’t Fleur De Lis at all. She was  charming if a bit self-absorbed, and in addition she was one of the most physically-desirable mares in all of Canterlot if not Equestria. Most mares would kill to have her looks, and even more stallions would kill to just have her. No. The disgust he felt was directed at him and himself alone, Fleur De Lis just happened to be a medium for his negative emotions.

Gazing upon her sleeping form, bitter sweet memories of their tribute to the more physical aspects of romance from the night before began to resurface in his mind. He could remember every second of their encounter from the moment the lights went out, to the climax that sent them both to the pinnacle of ecstasy.

Yet he could sternly recall the lack of satisfaction he felt during the act and it was an act, at least on his behalf. There was no passion last night and there hadn’t been since they’d first became a couple. There were only cold, mechanical, and calculated gimmicks that he provided to keep her interested and the majority of Canterlot’s paparazzi on Fleur De Lis instead of him.

He saw Fleur De Lis and everypony like her as plastic. Cheap pieces of pre-molded, manufactured and fake plastic. Here he was though, stranded out in the middle of Canterlot’s plastic ocean kept afloat only by the expectations of the thousands of mindless masses that looked to the lives of the elite as some escape from their everyday lives. If it didn’t pay his bills he would have voiced his concern for their well being years ago, but here he was playing the fool for those drones days in and day out.

Movement out of the corner of his eye told him that Fleur was beginning to come around and would be waking up soon, but soon didn’t stop the snoring now. Nodding to himself, Fancy Pants did what any irritated male would do in regards to the source of his dismay: he casually used a hind leg to push Fleur closer towards the edge of the bed, and with a final nudge he sent her to the floor below and chuckled softly to himself as he heard the thud.

A moment later, Fleur De Lis’ voice from the floor stifled his laughter. “Mmm... oh... not agai---” She punctuated her own sentence with a yawn as she got up. “Good morning Fancy, I had the strangest dream last night.”

With feigned enthusiasm, Fancy Pants inquired, “Oh? Please do tell, Fleur, I’m very much intrigued.” Fancy Pants began moving off of the bed

Fleur De Lis trotted over and leaned on him for balance in her drowsy state, and continued speaking which prompted him to grit his teeth slightly. “Well, it was you, some other pony, and myself standing in the most peculiar place: a seaside cliff. But I was the closest to the edge you see.”

“That does sound terrifying.” Fancy Pants was already enjoying this dream more and more by the moment, but Fleur De Lis looked nervous so he sat her back down on the bed and drew her close with a foreleg.

“And then the other pony... pushed me off the ledge and I fell until you caught my tail. While I was hanging upside down you grinned and then let go while laughing.”

Fancy Pants stifled another giggle as he drew a correlation to Fleur De Lis’ dream and his earlier prank.

“You wouldn’t let me fall, would you, Fancy?”

Attempting as playful a demeanor as possible, Fancy Pants deliberately opened and closed his mouth then pondered the issue with his hoof on his chin and a grin to which, Fleur De Lis took immediate offense, storming off into the kitchen of his penthouse with her nose turned up.

Shrugging, Fancy Pants moved to the shower room of the penthouse and took a long hot shower in preparation of the day ahead. He would have to take another plunge into the plastic ocean, but he didn’t have to carry Fleur De Lis’ scent on him while he subjected himself to their freezing waters.

Another day, another bit, I suppose. Fancy Pants thought to himself as he walked down the street from his penthouse. He hadn’t even turned the corner before he was ambushed by a swarm of paparazzi and as much as he hated to admit it, this situation simply wasn’t bearable with Fleur De Lis, but she was still fuming at him from earlier. That and he didn’t think he needed her around to go buy breakfast without being assaulted by paparazzi, but if Celestia’s divine will had anything to say about it, he would be proven wrong.

Straightening his trademark jacket and monocle, the high-society stallion carried himself with pride as he strode into the center of the photographers and reporters. Ignoring the constant flashes of cameras and probing questions that were droned out in the endless chorus of yet more probing questions he finally emerged from the cluster and proceeded to his favorite coffee and donut shop in Canterlot: Pony Joe’s.

Entering the establishment, he found that the paparazzi behind him merely formed a semicircle, blocking potential patrons from entering the establishment.

“Terribly sorry about that, Joe. I didn’t think they’d follow me all the way here.”

“Ehhh, don’t worry bout’ it, Fancy Pants,”-- Pony Joe waved off his concern with a hoof. " You’ve been a regulah custahmer of mine fa years, and I’ve come ta accept that your always gonna have that flock of uh...pests followin’ you around whenevah ya come around. Anyway, the usual for you?”

“Extra sprinkles, of course.”

“Comin’ right up!” Pony Joe disappeared into the kitchen to whip up Fancy Pants’ usual latte and bavarian cream.

“Well, well, well, what do ave’ ‘ere? Ees that Fancy Pants I spy?”

Fancy Pants turned his head to address the source rhetorical question “Ah, if it isn’t the lovely Photo Finish. How long has it been?”

“Feh! Do not talk to me as though we are friends! You stole my Fleur, and she was one of ze few models that had” --Photo Finish struck a pose pointing her right hoof at fancy Pants, which knocked his monocle out of place--“‘Ze Magics’!”

Casually pushing Photo Finish’s hoof out of his face, Fancy Pants replaced his monocle before continuing with an disinterested look in his eyes. “Ahem, quite.”

“Here ya go, Fancy Pants. The Bavarian cream is fresh outta the oven.” Pony Joe placed the latte and the pastry bag on the counter.

“They look as delectable as ever, Joe, and smell divine.” Fancy pants levitated his wallet out of his jacket pocket and dropped twenty bits and a small sapphire on the counter.

“Whoa, Fancy Pants, buddy it’s only four bits for yer usual. Whatta ya doin? I can’t take this much from you.”

“Then consider it from the customers you missed out on due to... that,” Fancy Pants gestured behind himself with a hoof towards the paparazzi.

Pony Joe shrugged and scooped the payment over to his register. “You’re the boss, Fancy Pants.”

“Awww eesn’t zat nice of you? I never expected to bear weetness to an act of charity from a thief.” Photo Finish cast a venomous glare at Fancy Pants, who very cooly levitated his latte and took a sip of the beverage.

Honestly, if you want Fleur back so badly then just take her. Fancy Pants dared not utter his thoughts aloud, lest he metaphorically chum the ocean and give the media sharks outside something to frenzy about.

“Well, Fancy Pants, eet 'as been a pleasure but now... I GO!”  Photo Finish punctuated her sentence with a dramatic glance at something to her left.

“Yes, you do that, as quickly as possible if you don’t mind.” Fancy Pants took another sip as he watched Photo Finish gallop out the entrance of the donut shop. With a sigh he levitated his bag of pastries, faced the door and prepared to throw himself back into the mass of media parasites.

“Hey, whoa, Fancy Pants, I can’t have my best customer usin’ the regula’ exit. C’mere, I’ll  let ya out the storage room,” Pony Joe gestured for Fancy Pants to follow him through the kitchen.

“Thank you, Joe. You’ve no idea how I loathe them.”

“Ah, they seem like divorce lawyers, always watchin’ ya, waitin’ on ya, memorizin' yer schedule. Ya know what I’m talkin’ bout’, right?”

“No, I can’t say that I do.”

“Pretty boy like yaself, you’ll find out one day.” The two stopped at the rear entrance of Pony Joe’s,  “Anyhow, here ya go. Be careful though, I’ve got some kid from uhhh... Ponyville outside deliverin’ apples. Pretty slow fella if ya ask me, doesn’t talk a lot. But I won’t keep ya, Fancy, I got sales to make offa’ ya ‘friends’ outside.”

“You take care as well, Joe,” Fancy Pants pulled the door open and was greeted by a crate that knocked him backwards on his rump causing him to lose the connection to his pastries and latte which spilled all over his suit jacket. “I say, who’s the bloke responsible?! This suit jacket was tailored by the duchess of--”

“Oh Ah’m so sorry, mister, I didn’t see ya there, it was an honest mistake please don’t press charges.”

"Not at all," Fancy Pants replied, "quite frankly, I think we need more honest mistakes in our world." Something to get me away from this artificial nightmare of a life. "If I may I ask, what is your name?"

"Big Macintosh," the red stallion replied. "And your name, iffin’ you might oblige me?"

"Fancy Pants," he replied.

"Fancy Pants!" the loud voice of a paparazzi pony called out. "If I can ask you a few questions!"

"Oh Celestia," Fancy Pants groaned as more paparazzi ponies encroached in on him. "I was just making acquaintance with a charming pony too."

"Where are all these ponies comin' from, Mr. Pants?"

Mr. Pants? It’s so simple, I love it! "Oh some wretched hive of scum and villainy I would assume. Tell me, Big Macintosh, have you ever experienced winking before?"

"Winkin'?" Big Macintosh replied, confused. "What's winkin'?"

"Oh, you'll absolutely hate it." Fancy Pants’ horn glowed for a moment and raising a hoof to Big Macintosh’s shoulder they were enveloped in a bright blue glow and the pair disappeared.

Reality snapped back into place for Big Macintosh. He had no idea where he was, and felt a little nauseous. "I could go without doing that again," he groaned.

"I agree," Fancy Pants replied. "Truly dreadful experience, but far too convenient to give up."

"Does that kind of kind of thing happen you all the time, Mr. Pants?"

I still love it. "You have no idea. My life is just the next story for these ponies. Fancy Pants, the novel. Coming to an overpriced coffee store near you."

"I don't get it," Big Macintosh replied.

And any other  kiss-flank pony would have laughed anyway.

Fancy Pants' felt compelled by something. "Big Macintosh, you have been a delight to talk to. If you're free in the evening, would you like to join me for some dinner?"

"Sorry, Mr. Pants, Ah’m gonna have to decline."

Fancy Pants' heart fell a little.

"Ah cain’t afford to eat at any of them fancy high-class establishments a pony like you would eat at."

Choking out a laugh Fancy Pants replied "It would be my treat. Believe me when I say I have more money then I could actually consider what to do with."

"It still wouldn't fit right with me to take another pony's bits like that."

"Then what if I let you choose the locale?" Fancy Pants suggested.

"Well, if you don't mind, there’s a nice place in Canterlot Ah like to visit whenever Ah'm in town."

"Sounds wonderful," Fancy Pants answered, gazing into Big Macintosh honest green eyes that shone like emeralds in the midday sun. Nothing was being held back in those eyes; they reflected the simple story of an honest, hard-working pony. Something he would never see in the faces of the dime a dozen, nose in the air superficial ponies that plagued this city. "I cannot wait."

"Alright then, Mr. Pants." Big Macintosh turned, about to go his own way before turning back. "Ah don't suppose you could wink us back? Ah still need to deliver my apple shipment to Mr. Joe."

Fancy Pants gave a genuine laugh for the first time in years. "Of course." With a single spark of his horn, he whisked Big Macintosh and himself back to Pony Joe's.

After arriving at the rear entrance of Pony Joe’s, Big Macintosh stumbled unsteadily towards the ground below. “Ah don’t think I’ll ever get used to that, Mr. Pants.”

“I fear neither shall I, Big Macintosh,” Fancy Pants readjusted his monocle before helping Big Macintosh up.

“Thanks Mr. Pants, this delivery shouldn’t take too long, it’s just two crates,” Big Macintosh walked over to the crate he assaulted Fancy Pants with earlier as it was the closest and began to push it further into the kitchen.

Fancy Pants rubbed his face with a hoof and took this opportunity to contend with his inner monologue: What am I doing? I have a reputation and an image to uphold as a very important pony. If I’m seen with somepony like him, it’ll be the end of me in Canterlot. And yet I don’t care. He’s different than all these mindless automatons, so much simpler, so much more innocent. Maybe after dinner that’ll be the end of it.

Big Macintosh returned from the kitchen and began pushing another crate of apples with astounding ease, which caught Fancy Pants’ eye. Big Macintosh was larger and had better muscular definition than most stallions Fancy Pants ever met, and yet, even with all of that strength, he didn’t flaunt it around like the models Fancy Pants was accustomed to tailoring to. Instead, Big Macintosh chose to remain humble and pensive.

Returning from the kitchen again, Big Macintosh trotted up to Fancy Pants “Well, that was my only delivery for the day. I reckon Ah’ll see you tonight, Mr. Pants?”

“Well actually, Big Mactintosh, I was thinking that maybe, if you’re not too busy, we could spend the day together, you see the city is terribly boring without somepony else to explore it with.”

“Well...” Big Macintosh rubbed his chin with a hoof, “Ah don’t see no harm in it, why not? Lead the way Mr. Pants.”

“With pleasure Big Mac,” Fancy Pants bowed slightly towards his new acquaintance and trotted almost giddily away from Pony Joe’s, Big Macintosh in tow.