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_www.youtube.com/watch?v=9pko08
 
“Oh Sweetie, don’t be like that. It was cute! Besides, you really livened up the party.”
 
“I was five!”
 
“And you were quite the entertainer!”
 
“Hmph.”
 
Sweetie Belle scooted to the far end of the couch, her arms crossed and her ears turned back. She was scowling, an effect severely offset by her glowing pink cheeks. Rarity adjusted the photo album as she slid her legs up on her cushion, while Applejack gave the picture another look, chuckling softly.
 
“Aww, come on, sugarcube. We all did things like that when we were youngins. S’part a growin’ up and all. Besides, Ah doubt any of those ponies remember it.”
 
“You two do.”
 
Applejack had no response to that, and went back to the album, leaving Sweetie to sulk (and blush) on her armrest. Rarity was more determined however.
 
“Honestly, darling, it’s really no big deal. You were just being a silly little filly, and you were very good at it too. Besides,  
I think you made an excellent first impression with them.”

 
Rarity stared at the photo, reminiscing on that day…
 

 
The party was dying down, and far too early.
 
Rarity had spent weeks trying to get these fashion icons together, working out dates, travel plans, availability, you name it. But finally, she had them all together in her boutique (or in its backyard, at least), and they were leaving.
 
It wasn’t many at first, a small trickle of one or two making some excuse or other, and slipping out the door, but she feared it would grow. She had broken out the wine, and while that had stemmed the flow, she knew it wouldn’t last. She had to think of something, anything.
 
There was one pony there who she had been neglecting lately, and who was growing bored and felt the need for a little attention. She also saw the perfect chance to get some. Most of Rarity’s friends were so boring. They’d go to her studio and blabber on for hours about ribbons or something. But they were here, and there were a lot of them, and if that big fancy party in Canterlot had taught her anything, they’d be willing to notice her. She had just the thing.
 
Rarity was still wracking her brain for something to try to reignite the party when she hear the porch door slide open. Out stepped Sweetie Belle, beaming. Rarity froze when she saw her, and what she was wearing… or rather, how she was wearing it. On her head were her jeans, the legs flopping around as she strode out the door. She gasped, not sure what her sister was planning to do.
 
The little filly walked in the middle of the patio, every eye staring at her and more than a few smiles starting to show. She scanner her audience, and, satisfied with the turnout, she adjusted her “hat” and took a deep breath.
 
“I call this the Fancy Pants Dance! Ooooooh, chances are the pants you wear are not as fancy as the pair, of the very fancy pants that Mr. Fancy Pants will wear…”
 
She began her “dance” her limbs, coat, and pantlegs flying everywhere as she belted out her song. Sir Fancy Pants himself was watching the show, trying to stifle his laughter as to not interrupt the singer. He pulled himself up on his cane and hobbled over to Rarity, still smiling.
 
“I think she might have a future in show business.” He chuckled quietly to her. “Honestly, Rarity, you always have the most amusing surprises up your sleeve. How do you do it?” She looked at the dancer, sticking her tongue out as she lost herself in her performance. “I’m not entirely sure myself.”
 
She wasn’t sure if it was the sheer absurdity of of the situation, Fancy’s comment, or the wine, but she quickly slipped inside and grabbed her camera, taking a few snapshots of the dance. If nothing else, it would be good to show at her graduation, she thought.
 

 
“You did wonders for that party, Sweetie. Plus Fleur and Fancy Pants invited us to that Wonderbolts show the next day, and in his box, do you remember? I owe that friendship to you.”
 
“I thought you said we weren’t gonna talk about this to anybody!”
 
“Oh come now, darling, I think we can tell Applejack about something like this, don’t you?”
 
”…So can I tell her about your hair dye then?”
 
“SWEETIE!”

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