>Day luchadore in Equestria.
>You wake up feeling a bit well rested.
>Apparently sleeping off shame does good for the body.
>Welp, time to start the day before you’re late to work.
>You shudder at that last thought, yesterday was all about avoiding ponies.  Now you -have- to deal with them.
>And being dressed a some sort of mexican maid won’t help.
>You go about your regular routine but you save getting dressed until the last minute.
>Well, there’s no avoiding it.  You have to wear something if you want to go outside.
>There’s quite a selection is the bag, just a very flamboyant one.
>After you put on something that doesn’t look like it’ll stop blood flow, you look at yourself in the mirror.
>You know what?  Scratch what you said about the maid.  You look more like a luchador just coming home from a ballerina recital.
>You’re wearing a fucking white ponco with a black tutu.
>Why the fuck would Rarity think that this is a good idea?  What the hell was she thinking when she made this?
>Something like: “A tutu ah yes darling, I don’t need Anon’s balls showing -all- the time!”
>And what the hell is this made out of?  Twine?  You feel like a damn scratching post!
>’Hmm, yes, Opal needs a good scratching post.  Maybe Anon can model as one!’
>The tag on it said, ‘winter protection’ but this thing has about as much weather protection as a wet towel.
>You could hide your shame with a gem embroidered baklava, but everyone would still know who you are.  Besides, it would be sweaty as fuck.

>*Sigh*, despite the early morning pep talk and shitty Rarity impersonations, your time left before you have to go is over.  It would be terrible to use ‘clothing’ as an excuse to be late.
>Oh yeah, you work at Sugarcube Corner.  The busiest business in Ponyville, how exciting.
>You hope Mr.Cake has an ounce of manliness to see just how gay these clothes are.  Maybe then you have a guy to talk about fashion with.
>That... sounded pretty gay, these clothes are getting to you...
>You leave the house to see the bright sun beaming brightly as usual.
>The streets are relatively empty at this time of day, but that doesn’t mean they’re aren’t some ponies who want to say high.
>Surprisingly you haven’t had much spaghetti today.  Maybe the first time is just a lot more embarrassing.
>Still, the thought of going to work and having to serve people like this makes you sick on the stomach.
>Hopefully bossman will let you sweep floors in the back to ease the embarrassment.
>But then again, there’s Pinkie...
>Just thinking about introducing her to your clothes makes your spine tingle.
>She’s probably think of someway to tie it all into a party.
>’Anon!  Your clothes are great for a domino luchador ballerina!  Let’s have a fashion party!’
>Heh, funny Pinkie impersonation...
>After seeing your clothes, she’ll want -everyone- to seem them, and she won’t rest until they do.
>Maybe you can get her into a pinkie promise not to flip her shit in front of customers.  It’ll be hard getting her to do one, but it’ll be a permanent solution to your problem if you do get her to do one.

>After a little bit more walking, you see Sugarcube Corner down the path in front of you.
>You’ve always seen this as a very aesthetically pleasing building, a real sight to behold.
>The candy roofing made of chocolate and frosting.  The chimney is a beautiful purple that splits into several smaller chutes.  The center tower is a pink cupcake with three ever lit candles that glow perfectly in night or day.
>It sure does ease the mind to know you work at your dream job.  When others struggle, you’ve got a job you truly enjoy, one with a good pay at that.
>For a second there, you almost forgot what you were wearing...
>*Sigh* no point in staying in the open, you’ll just get sighted more.
>You walk inside the building, the classic scent of sweets greet you as always.
>No sign of Pinkie so far, and there aren’t any customers so far either.
>Carrot Cake took the liberty of setting up the tables and chairs before you got here.
>Now all you need to do is face the inevitable and show Pinkie your clothes before she comes downstairs.
>Slowly you creep up the old wooden steps, inciting a loud creak from each footfall.
>Pinkies room is dead ahead, you can tell by the sign that says “Pinkie’s Room! :D” on the front.
>You walk through without a problem, Mr. and Mrs.Cake are working downstairs in the kitchen, so you don’t need to worry about them.
>When you get to the door you decide to respect her privacy and knock.
>”I’ll be there in a jiffy!” answered the Pinkie from the other side of the door.
>A cacophony of noises suddenly erupt from the other side.
>Inside you can hear glass break, a rubber chicken squeak, a jalopy horn, firecrackers, and an assorted variety of tumbling noises.
>Pinkie opens up the door with a smile that says “what noise?” on it.

>The room behind her is surprisingly clean despite hearing the onslaught of noises that were there just a second ago.
>”Hey there ‘Nonny!  OOOOO!  Nice clothes!  Did Rarity make them for ya?  OnetimeIhadthissweaterandraritycalleditghastlyandmademeaknewonebecauseshelikedthecolorandwantedmeto-”
“Stop. *Sigh* yes, Rarity did make these clothes for me.”
>”Wow, you look swanky!”
“Yeah, I wanted to say that now you have a good look you don’t need to let the customers get one.”
>”But ‘Nonny!  You look super duper dapper in those!  Maybe I could throw a fashion Part-!”
“NO!  I mean, these clothes are a bit new to me and I feel like letting them slowly introduce themselves.”
>”Oh I get it, you wanna do things the cool guy way huh?  Well that sounds neat!”
>Whatever she thinks, you don’t care, you just don’t want her freaking out in front of the customers.
“I’ll be downstairs cleaning up.  Can you work the register?”
>”Oki doki loki, ‘Nonny!”
>You walk back down the steps with Pinkie, feeling mildly satisfied.
>The problem which seemed so big a minute ago is gone.
>Now all that’s left to do i-.
>You stop at the bottom of the steps, Pinkie freezes behind you to avoid crashing into your ass.
>The entrance to the store is crowded with ponies awaiting to get breakfast while the Cakes warm up the ovens and prepare today’s batch.
>It dawns on you at the last minute.  You can’t let them see you like this!
>The ponies seem to have been waiting for a while, some of them are patting their hooves to the ground expectantly.
>”Uuuh, ‘Nonny?”
>Pinkie breaks you from thought, you’ve been holding up the customers that you need serve.
>You gotta think of something, fast!
“Ladies first.”
>Smooth.
>”Well thank you ‘Nonny!” said Pinkie as she hops past you.

>As expected of her bubbly mood, she jumps straight for the door and opens it for the customers.
>”Hey everypony!” Pinkie says to the crowd.
>As she continues to gain the crowd’s attention by talking up a storm about the menu, you covertly make your way into the kitchen.
>Inside you see the cakes finishing the breakfast batch.
>Mr.Cake is the first to notice your arrival.
>”Hello Anonymous, nice to see you and Pinky being up bright and early.  And in such dapper clothes.”
“Like always, boss.”
>Mrs.Cake ads into the conversation.
>”You know Anonymous, you can just call us Mr. and Mrs.Cake, all of our friends do.”
“All of my friends call me Anon.”
>”Touché.”
“Anyway, I was going to ask if you guys needed any help back here.”
>Carrot Cake shares a glance with his wife before answering.
>”We’re sort of finished here Anon, maybe you can sweep floors and take orders?”
>Oh man, if they’re done that means you’ll have to work with the customers.
“You guys sure you don’t need help back here?  I could uh... m-make the lunch batch of food?”
>”No, no, I think that that part should wait so it will be nice and fresh for when the lunch rush comes.”
>No point in fucking with your boss any further, you don’t wanna get fired.
>Reluctantly you step back into the dining room of the bakery.
>Pinkies working at the register doing her average Pinkie routine.
>She has a little break in between customers and turns to talk to you.
>”Psst, Anon, there’s a birthday party on table two and I need you to cover the register while I celebrate with him.” says Pinkie in a hoarse whisper.
“C’mon, do I really have to?”
>Pinkie gasps at your response.
>”And not let him enjoy his super special day?!  It only happens once a year!”
“*Sigh* fine, go tell the kid happy birthday.”
>Damn, you’ve been a real pushover lately.

>You sit down on the floor in front of the register so it meets your height.
>As soon as you get situated with handling the customers, Pinkie rushes over to start badgering the little kid about his birthday.
>Oh no... you can feel the spaghetti building up.
>The customers roll in one-by-one and are met with you pasta filled stutters and nervous sweats.
>You didn’t think that the spaghetti would come with the lack of pockets on this outfit, but spaghetti always finds a way.  Always...
>Pinkie starts coming back with a tray of cupcakes from the kitchen to put in the display case next to you.
>”Silly ‘Nonny, spaghetti’s not on the menu!”
>Oh god, why?
>Finally, after a long day of work and noodles, the store closes.
>You’re practically stuffed with the spaghetti that you hid in your stomach.
>”Well, that finishes today’s work Anon, you’re free to go.” said Mrs.Cake as she put up the final chair.
>After hearing you breathe a sigh of relief, not because of working here is bad or anything, you just got spaghetti crusting under your arms is all.
>You give a wave goodbye to the cakes and Pinkie and head off to home under the the glow of twilight.
>Once you get home, you set down on a kitchen table and start emptying the contents your pocket into a bowl for dinner.
>Okay, what have you learned today?
>Ponies think that you’re ‘dapper’.  Or they could be joking.
>And uh... that’s about it, at least that’s one thing new you know!

>Today really has been a riot.
>How could pasta have come from a belt loop?
>Good thing it’s all over.  Until tomorrow...
>You start settling down and relaxing, thinking that the long day is finally over, until you hear a rapping on your human sized door.
>Reluctantly you get up to open the door.
>Who could be here so late?  Did you forget something at the bakery?  Pinkie would definitely come running over if you did.
>You get over to the door and pull it open to find none other than-.
>”Well hello there good sir!”
>Motherfucking Hoity Toity.