Chapter 1: That House Was Tacky Anyway
Spike had a problem.
He lived in a home that he could literally eat whenever he wanted to. It’d be like living in a house made out of ice cream, if said ice cream was hard enough to cut through steel.
This problem never really presented itself when he lived at the library because, well, he wasn’t particularly fond of eating wood or ancient tomes. The dust from the books themselves ruined his sinuses enough already. As for when he visited the Crystal Empire, he at least had the control to keep his ravenous desires from taking over and munching on everything in sight.... for a little while. Just the sight of a crystal pony made his mouth water, his pupils widen, his nostrils swell, his palms go clammy. He was always eager for a visit to the Crystal Empire, but would leave with mixed feelings of longing and relief.
However, at home, that control could only last for so long. Like a dam ready to burst, the hunger had built up inside him, each day adding another bucket until it was practically overflowing, cracks popping up along its surface and its seams nearly torn apart. It was ready to break in two, and when it finally did rupture from the craving only a kid with a seemingly unlimited amount of his favorite food surrounding him could manage, it was… pretty anticlimactic.
He started with a few licks at first. Just a couple. Nothing too dangerous. No chance of Twilight finding out. Plus, he had to mop there anyway. Really, he was just saving time with his chore by using his tongue instead.
Plus, he wanted to answer the age-old question of how many licks it would take to get to the rainbow crystal center of a rainbow crystal castle?
The first lick was heaven.
The second was divine.
The third lick was nirvana.
And after that he just lost count and was lost in a state of utter bliss, only his tongue able to perceive semi-rational thought. All that thought was put in the monumental effort of acknowledging that the crystal castle was made of positively the best gems he'd ever tasted, and then tasting it some more, and then some more, until the floor was covered in a thick sheen of his saliva.
He stopped, having woken up hours later with a sore tongue and a few inches of missing floor. His lapping of the flooring would put a cat with a milk bowl to shame, and that’s all that he felt. Shame for giving into his primal urges.
Oh, and also the fact there was a hole in the floor now.
He covered it with a rug and promised himself he’d never let his curiosity and appetite get the better of him ever again. But like a fish to water, or purple nerdy alicorns to books, Spike couldn’t fight his nature. Instead, his nature suckerpunched him in the gut, then repeatedly knocked him over the head until he fell unconscious, awakening hours later with a headache and a rather large hole in the wall beside him.
Now he was beginning to grow worried. Sleepwalking wasn’t a problem he’d had before, but now he was sleepeating. Not only that, but sleepvandalism as well. A rug definitely wasn’t going to cover up this hole, that’s definitely for sure. So he stuck a painting over it instead.
Spike had avoided the castle at all costs after this, choosing to busy himself with errands around town. Anything at all to keep his mind from returning to that delicious, ever-so-scrumptious house situated in the center of town. He snuck out at night to sleep outside the castle on the cold, hard—and for some reason it was always raining overhead—ground, just so he wouldn’t wake up with a new hole created like last time, and then he’d sneak back into his bed in the morning. It was usually during these times he regretted not investing in a tent. Heck, even a cardboard box would do. Maybe he should ask Scootaloo where she got hers…
Oh, right, back to the crystal castle.
How his heart craved for it, along with his stomach… actually, well, it was mostly his stomach. Regular gems just didn’t cut it after he had tasted perfection itself. Whenever Twilight rewarded him for a job well done for chores, he munched on his gem disheartenedly, not even swallowing most of it without tasting like he usually did. The flavor was malarky, while the crystal castle was the best thing his taste buds had ever experienced. It’d be like returning to the drags of poverty after experiencing the riches of high society, or a better comparison, going from red licorice back to black, even though by far it’s the worst licorice flavor imaginable.
Eventually, he just couldn’t live with it anymore. Especially since winter was coming, and he didn’t have much hope he’d survive the blistering cold when a nice, warm, snuggly castle was within spitting’s distance. However, he had a plan on just how to make do with his cravings while keeping the castle’s integrity in check.
He bought a ton of rugs and paintings at the flea market.
This plan actually managed to work for a solid two months before Twilight became wise as to what was going on. It probably would have lasted longer, but after Twilight had tripped over a rug that had mysteriously appeared in a hallway now littered with dozens of them, she fell right through a painting in the wall, which in turn led to a drop to the first floor of the castle. Important thing to note was that she was on the fifth floor at the time.
After a few hours of unconsciousness while the bump she received from the blunt force trauma dealt to her noggin swelled to the size of an egg, Twilight awoke with a concussion and an utterly new realization on life. Her home was completely covered in cheap, tacky paintings and even tackier rugs. It was like someone had set up a thrift store in her home, and there was only one person who could be responsible for that.
Scratch that, two people. Pinkie was out of town visiting her folks back home, which only left Spike to blame.
When Spike entered the castle that afternoon after finishing some errands for Rarity (it mostly involved him being used as a coaster, which he was a total pro at doing), he encountered a quite unusual sight. Twilight with her head wrapped in bandages to cover a large bump, holes covering most of the walls and floor of the castle, and a bonfire composed of discount rugs and paintings.
After a few seconds of an awkward silence that soon became self-conscious and started to avoid eye contact, Spike coughed and kicked at the ground. “So… you reorgazing the house.”
“No,” was Twilight’s only answer. She was starting to grit her teeth. A sure sign of future dental problems, along with the fact she was angry beyond belief.
“You testing out the smoke detectors then?” Spike asked with a faux smile planted on his face.
“Spike, we live in a crystal castle that popped up out of a magical box. We don’t even have plumbing,” Twilight said, completely deadpan.
“Which I think would be a wonderful thing to get installed, don’t you?” Spike turned and started a hasty retreat to the train station to begin life anew as a railcar bum, the perfect background career next to a dentist. “I’ll go to the plumbers right away!”
He stopped, halted by Twilight’s ever so cruel magic tugging at his tail and returning him back in front of the door. “Spike, why don’t we talk?”
“Oh, sure, I’d love to.” Spike glanced up at the sky, completely ignoring Twilight or the swiss cheese crystal castle. “Wonderful weather we’re having, don’t you think?”
“I concur. All those holes in the ceiling really make it obvious,” Twilight replied.
Spike flinched, returning his gaze to Twilight’s enraged glare.
“Now, uh, see here, Twilight, it’s not what you think it is.” Spike licked his lips, eyes darting to and fro furtively. Grinning a smirk one would find better suited for a used-cart salesman, Spike leaned against the doorway. “Obviously the castle has a termite problem.”
Twilight gritted her teeth to the point of her molars nearly cracking (Colgate is going to make a fortune in the near future). However, she swallowed back her anger and a few choice words that a pre-adolescent dragon should most definitely not hear, and instead said, “Spike, that still doesn’t explain all those horrible rugs and paintings covering every hole that has popped up in the castle.
“W-well, that’s obvious too.” Spike sweated bullets down his forehead, a shallow puddle forming around his feet. “The termites have a bad taste in home furnituring. You know how insects are and everything.”
Twilight continued to glare at Spike. Spike continued to sweat. Now a tiny river had sprouted around Twilight’s hooves.
“Spike, cut the hay and let’s get down to the truth. Why have you been eating the castle?”
Spike doubled over like he had been hit in the gut. He swayed on his feet, desperately clinging to the doorframe. Looking up with a shaking head at Twilight, he weakly whispered, “T-Twilight, how… h-how could you ever even think of accusing me—your number one assistant and best reptilian friend—of such a heinous crime?” He pressed his eyelids closed shut, a whimper escaping his lips as he turned his head from her. “I thought, well, I really thought you trusted me better than that. I thought held me in higher regard than a dirty, good-for-nothing castle eater. I thought…” He choked back a sob. His head turned back to her, his eyes glistening, his lips held together in a pout. “I thought you knew me better than that.”
Twilight raised a brow. “You’ve been watching too many of Rarity’s soap operas again, haven’t you?”
Spike grumbled and stood back up straight. “How’d you guess?”
“She tried to pass the same act on me last week to get her hooves on a Duchess title.” Twilight sighed, rubbing at the spot between her eyes. “Plus, only you would like such terrible rugs and paintings.”
“I’ll have you know those are the most premiere paintings and rugs five bits could buy!” Spike snapped his claws and smiled, crossing his arms. “Plus, it had you fooled for a good couple of week. Or did it just escape your attention, oh great and revered star pupil?”
Now it was Twilight’s turn to sweat. “I’ve… uh, just been busy is all.” She scratched at the back of her neck and nodded several times. “Yeah, you know, with princess duties… and studying. I’m almost never home anyway.”
Spike’s grin grew a few inches wider. “Mmmhmm.”
Twilight shook her head and snapped out of the delusional self-denial Spike’s sassiness put her under. “Listen, Spike, I don’t care if I hadn’t noticed it until now or not. The castle is still covered in holes. The castle is made out of crystals. You’ve put on a few. The only conclusion is that you’ve been snacking on our home.”
“I’ve gained weight?” Spike looked down and wrapped his arms around his belly. “Oh dear Celestia, I’m a fatty!”
“Spike—”
“Now what girl will ever love me?” Spike fell to his knees and grasped his face in between his claws. “You know how much society pressures young males to be physically fit and perfect. Me being overweight makes me an outcast! An outcast! Separated from society, forced to bear the terrible burden of being different from everyone else! An experience I’ve never had to deal with before is now crushing my confidence to but a shadow of what it was!” Spike shook his hands at the heavens, screaming at the top of his lungs, “Damn you cruel fate! Damn you society for establishing such self-centered values for everyone to uphold. Now I’ll never get a girlfriend!”
After Spike had sobbed for a good five minutes, Twilight asked, “How many of Rarity’s magazines did you read this time?”
“It gets boring being a coaster…”
“What?”
“Nothing.” Spike got back to his feet and dusted off his knees. “So, to save us both some time and further embarrassment, I think there’s only one solution here. Let’s let bygones be bygones, and go out for ice cream.”
“But Spike, our home is still completely ruined!” Twilight waved her hooves at the damages. “How could we ever possibly live like this?”
“What? I thought you always wanted new skylights?”
The teeth grinding started up again. Spike could practically hear the begs and screams from Twilight’s molars for the sweet release of death, or cavities. Anything to take away the pain.
“Fine, fine, don’t worry, I know just what to do.” Spike rubbed his chin and hummed under his breath. “I think I remember spotting Dash throwing away a box for a new tv. If we get there before Scootaloo, we’ll have a new home for sure!”
“I don’t want a new home, Spike. I want this one!” Twilight stomped her hoof on the floor. “This one, right here! And I won’t move until you’ve helped me fix this!”
The echo of the stomp of Twilight’s hoof reverberated throughout the castle. It was at that very moment that the entire castle crumbled, like a tower of cards. However, unlike the common playing card, crystals were notorious for being heavy, hard, and having the tendency to break bones. Lots of them, in fact. Almost every bone in Twilight’s body, to be exact.
Luckily for Spike, he was standing directly outside the doorway, and therefore managed to escape the castle’s disintegration without a scratch. Twilight was inside the castle itself, which caused her to be buried beneath a mountain of crystals. Spike’s constant snacking had finally destroyed most of the castle’s foundations, and in doing so destroyed most of Twilight’s body when the castle finally fell in on itself.
It took dozens of weeks of staying in the hospital, physical therapy, and insurance bills that apparently a princess healthcare package didn’t cover, but Twilight was finally healthy enough to leave intensive care. Spike was there push her wheelchair back to their house.
“So, Twilight, how was the hospital food?” Spike asked, grunting due to Twilight’s weight (at least he wasn’t dumb enough to ask her about that).
Twilight didn’t answer. Not like she couldn’t. They had finally removed the braces from her jaws, and just last week she was able to digest solid foods.
“Aww, still sore about the entire ‘I accidentally ruined our home and your spine’ thing? I thought you would’ve gotten over that.”
“My spine did. Our home probably didn’t.” Twilight turned her head, or at least attempted to. She still hadn’t gotten her neck brace removed. “Because of you.”
“On the contrary, because of me, we got our home back, good as new!”
“What?”
“Well, it was more because of Celestia, but I was the one to suggest it. She made us a new home. Plus, I got to eat the remains of the old one.” Spike licked his lips. “Delicious!”
“Oh, thank Celestia.” Twilight relaxed in her wheelchair and closed her eyes while breathing a sigh of relief. “I finally get to sleep under my own roof again.”
Spike coughed. “Oh, right, erm… there might be a problem with that.”
One of Twilight’s eyelids snapped open. “What type of problem?”
“Actually, it’s more of a positive. I couldn’t just get Celestia to build another crystal castle. I’d probably eat that one too. So, instead, I requested a different building material from her.” Twilight and Spike crested the hill leading to their home. “I think you’re actually going to like this one.”
Twilight’s jaw opened so wide it nearly broke a second time.
“Wh… what?” She gulped back her spit from dislodging from her mouth. “Is that what I think it is?”
“That’s right!” Spike said, spreading his hand out to the horizon. “An entire castle made out of hayburgers!”
It was indeed what Spike had just said not two seconds ago. It was a castle—from the floor to the ceiling and even the bathroom—made out of hayburgers. It was in the exact same shape as the old castle, only burgerized now.
Twilight’s eyes couldn’t look away or even blink. “How’s that even possible?”
“Celestia owns most of the hayburger joints around Equestria. Something about a ruthless government takeover of the fastfood industry to net huge profits and junk. Anyway, she thought the request was weird, but after further begging she finally did it!” Spike slapped his hands and rubbed them with a devious smile planted on his face. “All the burgers have a spell on them to assure they won’t rot or change in any shape or form, regardless of the climate or weather. Well, unless someone intentionally removes one, that is. She even got a contractor to assure her it could withstand a hurricane. Isn’t that great?”
Twilight’s lips floundered like a fish out of water, yet she was finally able to yank them back in order to compose the question of: “Why in the world did you ever think it’d be a good idea to have a castle made out of hayburgers?”
Spike held Twilight’s head in between his hands and smiled, a crazy glint shining in his eyes. “So that you’ll know my pain. The pain only hunger can bring to a poor soul. Day in and day out I struggled with my cravings. Those urges that just wouldn’t let go. I couldn’t tell anybody—much less you—about them. You’d never understand. I had to bottle them in with constant fear that one day they’ll explode, with me along with it. But now?” Spike chuckled, and then laughed, his cackle reminding Twilight to take a note and sign him up for therapy. “Now you’ll have to deal with the pain I had to go through! The suffering, the cravings, the sleepless nights! Let’s see how you hold up to that.”
Twilight slapped Spike’s hands away, rolling her eyes. “Please, Spike, I’m an adult mare and Princess of Friendship. I think I have a bit more control than that.” She wheeled herself down the hill to her castle, a confident grin shining on her lips. “Actually, I think this castle looks better than the original.”
Less than three days later the castle had mysteriously disappeared, around the same time Twilight was admitted to the hospital for the second time on account of getting her stomach pumped. Apparently she had ingested enough hay to feed a small village for weeks.
Later that week Twilight’s castle had finally been repaired to its full crystal glory, and she was more excited than ever to return home after she was released from the hospital again.
She walked back to her home, taking care to avoid the local hayburger joint (she vomited in her mouth whenever she even smelled hay nowadays) while picking up a newspaper on the way over. And when she finally reached the spot where her home was, she immediately said, "What the fuck happened to my castle!?"
Spike could be seen laying by the remnants of the castle, holding his bulging stomach, groaning. Twilight approached him, cocked her head to the side, and noded to the empty space. "So... mind explaining what happened?"
Spike groaned and said, "No idea. One second it was there, and then it was gone."
"Really? And you had nothing to do with it?"
"Nope. Definitely wasn't—" Buuuuuuuuuurp, "—me." Spike thumped his chest with his fist.
"You've got crystal dust around your mouth."
He licked his lips. "Oh, that..."
"Yeah... that."
"Wasn't me."
Twilight smacked him with her newspaper, then shook her head. "You're building me a new one, you know that, right?"
Buuuuuuuuuuuurp. "’Kay." As Twilight walked away, Spike patted his stomach with a contented sigh. "Totally worth it. Again."
