Shitpost: Why Are You Locked In The Bathroom

PROMPT: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J7zTvC5yjjE

>Be Rarity
>You know you’re a sperg.
>You know there’s some elements of interpony interaction that’s beyond you.
>You try to understand, you really do!
>But some things you just can’t process.
>The unicorn’s making off with the son of a diplomat you’ve been wooing for a week and a half.
>She just walked over, spoke to him for five minutes, and they were off.
>Sure, she’s got that supermodel body.
>A slight upward curve to her horn that indicates some seriously good breeding, as far as magic’s concerned.
>That casual charm that made all conversation seem easy.
>But you know her type.
>EVEN YOU KNOW HER TYPE!
>...Why didn’t he?
>Why couldn’t he see that she was just going to use him, abuse him, then lose him?
>You could give him something she couldn’t.
>The most important thing.
>You could give him true love.
>You’d actually care for him and respect him.
>You were successful and talented!
>But that respect and that talent never seems to matter.
>You shake your head, turning from your boutique’s window.
>Back to your work.
>The only thing that ponies ever looked to you for, only reason ponies cared about you.
>When you could offer so much more.
>You shake your head as you pick up your pattern marker again.
“Why do stallions only like stupid jerks who treat them like shit?”

* * *

>Be Goodgame.
>Sure, you’re not the most attractive stallion on the block.
>But you knew what most mares liked.
>Mares don’t really care that much about appearances. They love to lose themselves into things. Into work, into play. Into passtimes and passions and hobbies.
>And you’re just like them!
>You literally have a cutie mark depicting a game controller.
>And it’s not just for show.
>You immersed yourself into the same things they did.
>You surrounded yourself with them in the moments they enjoyed life the most.
>You contributed materially to that enjoyment!
>Why did none of them ever make that connection? Between you and enjoyment?
>You could play with the best of them, curse with the best of them, joke with the best of them, you appreciated everything they did and proved your worth in every activity they participated in.
>But they always have eyes for others.
>Even as the tailor-mare turns away from her window, you can’t take your eyes off her.
>She has her troubles, sure. She’s not the most laid back or casual mare around.
>She finds it hard to talk to stallions, and you’ve done everything you could think of to accommodate that.
>So why does she only have eyes for the stars?
>They have nothing in common with her. They only care about her tailoring to the extent it suits them.
>Literally.
>They don’t know about her secret passion for card games or romance novels. If they did, they’d look down on them.
>But you?
>You recommended some of her favorite books for her!
>You were always there when she wanted to test out a new deck, testing out your own ideas with her!
>So why does she never look at you the same way she looks at them?
>You can’t take looking at her perfect form anymore.
>You quickly get up from your cafe table and rush to the bathroom, slamming the door behind you.
>Slamming your hoof against the door’s lock.
“Why do mares only want bitchy dicks who walk all over them?”

* * *

>Be Anon.
>Your twin brother Cog remains unemployed, to your chagrin.
>Well, its giving you two some nice brother bonding time.
>Which mostly involves mock-shouting at each other in the middle of the street, seeing who can pretend to be the faux angriest.
>For some reason stallions dogfighting got all the mares looking.
>So far he’s winning the tally of how many you could make laugh.
>But the day’s not over yet.
>Hard to play the game when he’s squirreled himself away in the little colt’s room, though.
>Something at the cafe didn’t agree with him.
>Maybe it was them turning down his third application.
>A purple stallion darts by you into the bathroom your brother’s blowing up.
>The unicorn slams the door behind him, and another bang ensures that door isn’t opening until the pony’s good and ready.
>He mutters something, but you can’t quite catch what it is.
>It sounded like a question, though.
>Better answer; aliens are supposed to have advanced knowledge.
>You clear your throat, preparing it to dispense your alien wisdom at the appropriate volume.
“WHY ARE YOU LOCKED IN THE BATHROOM?”
>You gotta Socratic Method this shit, answering questions with questions in search of the truth.
>But the returning voice is Cog’s
>”YOU TALKING TO ME?”
>With two aliens in on the act, you’re gonna get to enlightenment at warp speed.
>Snrk.
“MAYBE YOU SHOULD TRY GETTING A JOB!”