I stared down the row, already dreading the time-sink that was my morning routine. Each bottle had a proper label, organized by order of application, sized by dosage to last at least a week. Any longer than that, and I’d need a bigger shelf for my shower.

I stepped into the bay and turned the nozzle to the right. Spinning the hot and cold knobs, I found the familiar groove for each and waited for the water to turn warm. The rush of cold jarred me awake from standing too close to the back-splash against the wall. The droplets rolled right off my oily mane, but clung to my matted flank, chilling my unstretched muscles. Sighing, I knew it was going to be another one of those mornings.

A pool of steam rose up around my hooves, and I turned the nozzle forward again with a nod of my horn. The seconds ticked by as I indulged my senses in the relaxing fall of rain. A little twirl and shake of the tail had me sufficiently wet on all fronts. If that were all, I would be one happy pony. Unfortunately, I was just getting started. To add insult to injury, a new bottle from Rarity gave me a nineteenth task to look forward to following the standard regimen. Marigold Renewing Agent—who knew they could be used for more than just lunch?

First came the shampoo. Oh no, not just any shampoo. This was specially formulated for the mane, not to be confused with the tail or any of the five other soap products on the shelf. Coat wash, tail shampoo, feather fluff—one of the worst things about growing a pair of wings had to be the maintenance—whoever invented all these things sure wasn’t a mare, and they certainly never consulted an alicorn.

I levitated the huge bottle of essential oils coat conditioner off the shelf and just stared at the label. The fact that I knew what only half of the ingredients were should have been a big enough warning not to come within fifty hooves of the stuff. I’d barely skimmed the surface. The more exotic fare was yet to come. Mane-and-tail detangler, fetlock conditioner, dock oil, horn polish: the list went on.

I stared into the mirrored wall at the back of the stall, the warm water splashing against my flank barely helping to soothe the tension and not upset the conditioning agent in my mane. Peering through a bubbly curtain of bangs, I searched to catch a glimpse of the pretty pony princess everypony expected me to be. Why can’t this be simple? There has to be an easier way.

But there was!

I ran my hornglow down the shelf. Every lid popped open emptying its contents into an amalgamated swirl of color and smell. Measuring out an ample supply for immediate use, I tucked the rest into the giant coat conditioner bottle and began the process of smearing the glop across my body. Needless to say, the tingle down my neck and across my withers made the entire experiment worth it.

I grabbed my soft coat brush and worked over every hair, feather, and patch of fur I could find. Even my hooves took a polish. I couldn’t wait to see the results.

---

“Sweet Celestia!” Rarity screamed. “What happened to you?”

“I took a shower.” I spoke the truth, but probably came off a bit rude. “Then I thought I had a brilliant idea.”

“Oh dear! It wasn’t the Marigold Renewing Agent, was it?” Rarity cringed, taking stock of my awful state on full display in the center of the spa.

I sighed while trying to maintain posture as Aloe picked through my mane and Lotus smeared a cream on my flank. “No, Rarity. I tried taking a shortcut and mixed all my products together. It burned my mane, bleached my coat, and made my tail so brittle, half of it broke off or fell out on the way here.” I held up one of my blackened hooves as well. “I know what you’re going to say, so just get it out.”

“Now is not the time for ‘I told you so’, Twilight.” Rarity rushed forward and tossed on a spa gown. “I’ll do whatever I can to help. Don’t you worry, we’ll fix this.”

“It’s alright, Rarity. Aloe and Lotus have it covered. We’re just waiting for the industrial purple dye to be flown in from Canterlot.”

Rarity gasped, and then she fainted.