Grab the Brush

by the dobermans

Rating: teen
Tags: Main 7 (EqG), Principal Celestia, Dark, Comedy, Vice-Principal Luna, Equestria Girls, Trixie
Length: 4003

Twilight is invited back to Canterlot High to give Sunset and Trixie a special friendship lesson.

Troubled youths like Sunset Shimmer and Trixie Lulamoon can end up on a dangerous path. They can fall through the cracks in the system, spiralling into a vicious cycle of self-destruction and crime. They can become a disgrace to their families, their school, and their Nation.

That's why Principal Celestia has asked Twilight Sparkle to return and find a way to set them back on the straight and narrow. Twilight, being the Princess of Friendship, knows exactly how to solve the problem.

They have to perform but one simple task ...

Review by Present Perfect

Published 2016-02-14 02:00:01 UTC
Last updated 2016-02-14 02:00:01 UTC

Two Kinds of People

“Attention, students. Sunset Shimmer and Trixie Lulamoon, please report to Principal Celestia’s office at the end of the class period.”

Vice Principal Luna’s sparse monotone warbled over the PA loudspeaker. The background static lingered for a few more seconds before terminating in a harsh click.

Sunset lifted her pen from her mathematics notebook and tried to force her eyes to focus on the wall clock. She’d heard her name. Partial fractions would have to wait.

Little by little, the plain black hands sharpened into view. Three minutes to go.

That’s weird, she thought. Why would Principal Celestia want to see the two of us? I’ve said barely two words to Trixie since …

The sound of a coarse grit file scraping against bunched fingernails halted behind her. She felt a pair of eyes blinking lavender disdain at the back of her head.

This has got to be about the Battle of the Bands, she reasoned. Trixie’s got baggage over how things went down, and now she’s gone and complained to Principal Celestia. Probably wants a rematch or something. Or me to join her band. Like that’s ever going to happen.

She peeked over her shoulder. Trixie was there sneering with her legs propped up on her desk, whispering something about horses belonging in barns, while her two lackeys shook their fists and made throat-slitting motions behind her.

The bell rang.

Sunset turned to catch Mr. Manifold slapping chalk dust from his tie. He liked using it to erase equations from the blackboard, which he took great pride in demonstrating each and every day, claiming it was the ‘most carbon-friendly approach’. No one as yet could supply the logical proof he was looking for to convince him otherwise.

“Remember your rules of algebra, everyone,” he called, “and fear no quadratic! Homework is out of twenty-five points, due on Friday.”

Sunset shook her head, struggling to keep her mouth shut. This world was so far behind when it came to math. Just one of the reasons behind their greenhouse gas conundrum. She slung her book bag and joined the rest of the students funneling into the hall.

If there was one other thing she’d learned during her time here, other than that abusing magic to achieve world domination was a good way to end up blubbering at the bottom of a crater, it was that humans love noise. As she was navigating the pockets of chatterers, football-tossing varsity boys and panicking textbook-laden straight-A types running to their next class, someone made a sarcastic neighing sound and started keeping pace beside her.

“Whatever we did, it’s your fault, traitor! Trixie is, and has always been, a model student.”

‘Whatever we did?’ Sunset puzzled to herself. She doesn’t know? A likely story.

They both dodged a bouncing line of hula hoops being chased by three freshman girls. “’Course Trixie. Someone as stupendous as you are would never do something to warrant a trip to the Principal’s office.” Sunset tried to catch Trixie’s eye as they started moving again. “Seriously, do you ever give any thought to other people’s feelings? You should try it. It might even help you achieve your uh … goals.”

Trixie popped open a compact mirror and began primping her silver-white hair. “Of course Trixie thinks of others. Trixie coaxes them into telling her what will make them believe how superior and almighty and better-than-everything-than-they-are Trixie is. It makes it easier for them to do what Trixie tells them.”

Sunset stared at her, not really expecting a punchline that was never going to come.

The two girls walked the rest of the way in silence. When they reached Principal Celestia’s office, Sunset knocked twice on the frosted glass and leaned against the wall to wait. Trixie did her best to look irritated.

“Enter,” came a stern voice from inside.

Sunset took a deep breath and opened the door. The big room was packed with extra chairs, most of them occupied by the Rainbooms. The girls were arranged in a semicircle around two empty seats, all jittering, long-booted legs, crackling bubblegum and swishing hair. Flash Sentry and Bulk Biceps stood on opposite sides of the room, hands behind their backs, their faces unreadable. Principal Celestia sat behind her desk observing the group, while Vice Principal Luna watched hand-on-hip at her side.

Twilight sat in the middle, hugging her book bag and giggling with Pinkie Pie as Pinkie scrolled down her cell phone’s screen. When Twilight spotted Sunset, she smiled and waved.

The Rainbooms’ cheery banter fell silent. All eyes were on Sunset and Trixie.

Principal Celestia gestured toward the center chairs. “Please sit down.”

Sunset focused on Twilight, trying to ignore the sullen looks of the other girls. She set her bag at the feet of one of the chairs and settled in. Trixie scowled at no one in particular and did the same.

“So what’s this about?” started Sunset. “Are we in trouble? I’m not sure what Trixie’s been telling you, but I’m happy playing for the Rainbooms. Trixie’s act is … super … the way it is, and I have no interest in joining …”

“Excuse me?” Trixie blurted. “Do you seriously think an artist as awe-inspiring as the Great and Powerful Tr-r-r-r-rixie would need someone like you braying in the background of her masterpieces, ruining the emotional connection she’s woven with her tearful, adoring fans? Please. Rumor has it there’s a fair in town. Why don’t you go apply at the petting zoo? You’d be perfect.”

“For what?” Sunset grimaced.

“Giving rides to children, of course. Admit it. You’ve been longing to get back in the saddle ever since you lost the Fall Formal crown to Twilight. I’m sure they’ll have one that fits you.”

Understanding dawned on Sunset’s face. “Hey!”

“Hey!” Twilight echoed.

Trixie closed her eyes and turned away in triumph. “All you can eat.”

Celestia leaned over her desk. “Girls, enough. Miss Lulamoon, we’ll start with you. Your antics during the recent Battle of the Bands did not go unnoticed. By opening the stage trapdoor without first notifying the technical crew and clearing the area, you seriously endangered the well-being of the Rainbooms …”

“… and nearly compromised the integrity of the contest,” Luna added.

“Integrity?” Trixie shouted. “What do you mean, ‘integrity’? That went out the window when the Dazzlings sang their little lullaby and tricked you and Principal Celestia into …”

Celestia flourished a hand. “Leaving that aside, did you consider the implications of what your actions could mean for the school spirit?”

“No,” pouted Trixie.

“The morale of the student body?”

“No.”

“Bake sale proceeds?”

“No.”

Celestia sighed, letting Trixie fidget under her gaze. After a few moments, she continued. “My sister and I have held several lengthy, and frankly, embarrassing meetings with the Canterlot High Parent Teacher Organization and Board of Education, to assure them that the students under our care are not participating in dangerous activities, particularly if those activities are school-sanctioned events.”

Trixie leapt out of her seat and jabbed a finger back toward the door. “But it wasn’t me! It was … those other two. They pulled the lever. Trixie doesn’t know what got into them!”

“They will be dealt with. Please sit back down. We’re not finished.”

Celestia turned to face her whiteboard calendar, studying the notes she’d made for the morning. “We’re willing to let bygones be bygones, Miss Lulamoon, but steps must be taken to convince school governance that any ‘bad actors’–their words, not mine–have been properly harmonized with the larger student population. No need to worry, mind you. Vice Principal Luna and I pride ourselves on being fair and thoroughly modern in the application of corrective measures, on the rare occasions when the need for such measures arises.”

“Corrective … measures?” Trixie quavered. She shot a look at Bulk Biceps, who was not smiling.

Luna strode forward, skirting the quiet line of girls to stand over Sunset. “As for you, Miss Shimmer, technically you were not a member of the Rainbooms at the time of band registration. By interceding at the crucial moment, you too called the fairness of the competition into question. We strongly considered judging the outcome a forfeit, and awarding the victory to the Dazzlings despite their fall from grace.”

Luna’s rapidly twitching eye told Sunset it might not be the best time to remind the group that by joining the battle against the Sirens, she’d saved the entire school from becoming a jumbo platter of hatred, jealousy and hissy fits ready-made for the creatures’ frequent snacktimes.

Celestia had come to stand with Luna. “It cannot be denied that your presence here has been very disruptive. Arguably, you are the reason the past few quarters have been so trying. As it stands, we cannot be entirely sure that you’ve been able to socially integrate. And so,” she smiled, placing a gentle hand on Twilight’s shoulder, “we’ve invited our special guest back from her home … er … country?”

“It’s a kingdom,” Sunset offered.

“Right–kingdom–so that she and the others can help you see the error of your ways. Twilight, you have the floor.”

“Thank you, Principal Celestia,” said Twilight. She pulled her chair forward until she was sitting at arm’s length from Trixie and Sunset.

“First let me say what an honor it is to have been called back to this wonderful dimension to mentor my Canterlot High friends and … acquaintances … in their quest to understand the ways of harmony.”

Sunset searched the downturned faces of the Rainbooms. “But … how did you …”

A pale yellow arm went up. Fluttershy cleared her throat, snuggling the gerbil she was rocking to sleep extra tight. “Umm, Sunset? I’m sorry, but you know last week during gym class? Well, while you and the others were busy playing whiffle ball, I … you see … I … um … I went inside and snuck into your locker.”

“You went through my things?” demanded Sunset.

Fluttershy cringed. “W-w-w-well, Principal Celestia asked us to get in touch with Twilight, and the only way we knew how was to use your journal. I promise I didn’t disturb your pinups of Flash Sentry pumping iron in nothing but a jock strap, or the sweaty towel you stole out of his duffel bag, or the assortment of potions and preserved lizard tongues on the top shelf, or the month-old pile of dirty…”

“You’re the one who stole my gym towel!” yelled Flash Sentry.

“Ahem, yes. Thank you for clarifying that, Fluttershy,” Twilight interrupted, seeing Sunset’s eyes bulging to the size of softballs. “As you may or may not know, on my way to becoming the Princess of Friendship I solved numerous quandaries, predicaments, quarrels, spats and emergencies that plagued the residents of Ponyville and beyond. Believe me when I tell you, I’ve done my time when it comes to misunderstandings between friends.”

“You’ve got a pretty good singing voice, too,” said Flash, scratching a sudden itch on the back of his head.

“Yeah!” Bulk Biceps agreed.

Twilight giggled and hooked a strand of hair behind her ear. “You really think so? I was so worried that …”

Vice Principal Luna began tapping her foot.

“Oh. Sorry, girls,” said Twilight as she tumbled down the cottony slopes of dreamland mountain. “Where was I? Right. For this project I did approximately forty-eight mare-hours of research investigating human psychology and pony psychology, then input all possible permutations of the Jungian personality types and the potential interactions thereof into an eighteen-dimensional conflict matrix. After a bit of field work involving myself, Princess Cadance and a family of exceptionally hirsute minotaurs, one solution emerged showing promise far and above the rest.”

Sunset scratched her head. “Minotaurs … what?”

“It’s simple,” Twilight chuckled. She unzipped her bookbag and reached inside. After a few seconds of loud rummaging, she drew out a personalized hairbrush.

“All you need to do is brush my mane. I mean, hair. Brush my hair.”

“Brush your hair,” Sunset deadpanned, arching a stenciled brow.

Trixie made to gag herself with her finger. “You have got to be kidding. Trixie leaves horse grooming to stable boys and farmers.”

“Do ya now?” growled Applejack. She started to rise from her seat.

“Wait, AJ,” said Sunset. “Seriously Twilight? That’s all I have to do is brush your hair? That’s not a magic brush, is it?”

“Nope, no magic but the magic of friendship. Think about it, Sunset: only a true friend would do something so kind. Will you take this step with me? Will you brush me?”

Twilight extended the brush, handle first.

Sunset looked around as if everyone in the room had, with consummate elegance, just pulled smiley face masks down from the tops of their heads and snapped them on with cheap white elastic strings.

“Um, OK?” She took the brush and, after Twilight had angled her face just so, began to brush her friend’s hair in short, gentle strokes.

Twilight gazed into Sunset’s eyes, beaming bright. “You’re doing great, Sunset. That feels so good. You know, when I get back to Equestria, I’m going to put in a good word with Princess Celestia, maybe even arrange something where the two of you can sit down over tea and work things out. I’m thinking Donut Joe’s. And hey, if things go well, you could be my number one student! Wait, wait! You could even live with me at my castle! We’ll be roommates! Wait ‘til you see my new bedroom. You’re going to love it. I’ve fit seven beds in there, so two should be no problem. Spike handles breakfasts. His hay fries are out of this world!”

“That sounds really great, Twilight,” Sunset murmured, not quite managing to relax. “Say, uh, what product do you use on your hair? It’s so shiny.”

“Oh, I don’t use anything. It’s naturally sebaceous. Great for keeping the bangs together.”

“Oh … uh … that’s so … lucky,” said Sunset. She fought and won the internal struggle to avoid wiping her hand on her jeans.

Twilight cupped her chin in her palm and listened to the soft sounds of the brush for a few more minutes. “Alrighty, that’s enough for you, Sunset. Great work.”

The girls cheered behind her. Principal Celestia clasped her hands together and looked to Luna, who nodded.

Sunset nodded back, brandishing the brush like a trophy to distract them from the awkwardness of her smile.

“One down, one to go,” Twilight continued. “Trixie? Your turn.”

Trixie crossed her legs, looking away at some nonexistent sign flashing her name in violet neon. “Trixie brushes her own hair and no one else’s.”

Vice Principal Luna’s face darkened by several shades of periwinkle, and an evil glint sparked into being on her three-pronged cowlick. The attention of the group converged all at once on the defiant performer.

“Be her friend, Trixie,” cooed Fluttershy.

“Yes, dear. Taking the brush would certainly be for the best,” said Rarity. “Here.” She dipped into her handbag. “This is a little something I use to keep the dry skin rashes at bay.”

Out came a thumb-sized bottle of white cream. She dabbed some on her wrist and held it upturned for Trixie to smell.

“Would you like some? You have but to accept Twilight’s brush and finish sprucing up her already magnificent coiffure–just a bit of petty maintenance, really–and the rest of this bottle shall be yours.”

Trixie strangled her own trembling hand. “Trixie … can’t resist Coconut Sashay! But she already has a bottle! Two of them! Ten of them! Take it away!”

“C’mon Trixie, grab the brush,” said Applejack. She gave Trixie’s thigh a pat. “Afterwards ya’ll are welcome to join me and the girls for some treats over at the farm. How does fresh made apple cider sound? Cider donuts too. Melt in your mouth or the joke’s on me.”

“I’ve got an ice cream cake with your name on it!” Pinkie screamed. She reached behind her seat and came back with a baby alligator plush. “Oops, sorry.” She tried again, this time producing a round, dripping block of vanilla ice cream. ‘Trixie’ was scrawled on top in blue gel, along with a wand and magician’s hat.

Rainbow Dash pounded the floor with her boot. “Grab that brush right now, Trixie, or I’m putting the kibosh on those secret badminton lessons we talked about!”

“Badminton lessons?” Trixie gasped. “Trixie doesn’t know what you’re talking about. Trixie doesn’t even know what badminton is! What Trixie does know that she will never, ever brush Twilight Snaggle’s hair, or whatever her name is. Case closed. Can I go now?”

“You’re not squeamish about handling my sebum, are you?” queried Twilight. “Because I can assure you that it’s perfectly healthy, and might even be beneficial for you! You see, the human scalp secretes large quantities of waxy oil to form a waterproof layer over the epidermis, which can help protect against bacterial infections, and …”

Vice Principal Luna parted the throng, advancing on Trixie like a warship emerging from a midnight fog. “Students, please. Allow me to wield my considerable powers of persuasion in this battle of wills.”

She stopped in front of Trixie, bending low to grip her seat on either side, and brought her face to within spittle spraying distance. “Do you think this is a game, Miss Lulamoon? Because I assure you that it is not. I am going to assign you detention every single day for the rest of your natural life! You will learn the name of every quasar. Every brown dwarf. Every star. Every constellation. Taurus. Centaurus. Phoenix. Lepus. Lyra. Canes Venatici. Equuleus. Pegasus. Ursa Major. Ursa Minor …”

“But the Great …”

“Where’s my trowel?” Luna roared. Sunset folded her hands around the brush and looked down.

Luna stomped toward the door. Her starched white collar had bent upwards, covering half her mouth. “Bring me my trowel! I swear by the beard of Johannes Canterlot, in the old days …” She slid a wooden ruler from the dusty crevices of the bookshelf, “In the old days, naughty girls received proper discipline!” She brought the ruler down on her forearm with a loud crack. “See? Like that! Naughty,” the ruler cracked again, “naughty,” and again, “naughty Luna gets what she deserves! If you don’t grab that brush this instant, I promise you, “Trixie”, I promise you I’m going to be your worst nightmare! Do you hear me? Answer me!”

Trixie stared into the black holes of Vice Principal Luna’s flaring nostrils. She wilted into her chair, whimpering and sniveling.

Principal Celestia motioned to her sides. “Flash, Bulk, could you please help me direct Vice Principal Luna to the nurse’s office?”

The two strapping youths hurried to obey their Principal. Securing Luna’s arms, they grabbed her around the waist and began to force her toward the door. Celestia joined them, murmuring into her sister’s ear while they all stumbled together out into the hallway.

Luna fought back with the ferocity of a thousand rabid opossums. “Let me go! I don’t want to see the nurse! I want five minutes alone with that one in my office! Five minutes! Just me, her and 6,783 pages of alphabetized stellar indices. Not so great and powerful now, are we Miss Lulamoon? Better bring your glasses! Hope you don’t get a neck cramp! Let me go!”

Unable to break Luna’s grip on the doorframe, Bulk and Flash lifted her onto their shoulders between them, dodging her gnashing teeth. Bobbing and weaving they muscled her through, and with a parting shrug from Principal Celestia, the door slammed shut.

Silence reigned. Trixie sat curled in the fetal position, alone in the center of the Rainbooms. Seeing their chance, the girls scooted their chairs closer.

“Let’s get down to business.” Applejack rolled her sleeves up, revealing a pair of work-toned, freckled biceps and the blond tips of unshorn armpit fuzz.

“There now, no one important around to make ya feel embarrassed.” She rested her elbows on her knees and leaned forward. “Now I strongly advise you take the brush, hon. Dont’cha want friends?”

Sunset turned the brush around and offered the handle to Trixie.

Trixie instinctively covered her nose, her eyes lingering on Applejack’s hygienic surprise. “Trixie has friends. Trixie has plenty of friends.”

“Oh yeah, like who?” Rainbow Dash challenged.

“Those … two girls in my band. You know … the purple one. And the one with the yellow hair.”

“You don’t even know their names?”

“Simmer down a sec, RD. Old Luna’s got her spooked,” said Applejack. She lowered her voice and laid a calloused hand on Trixie’s pale blue knee. “Think of the cider, sassafras. The good times we can all have, sitting around the table eatin’. Laughin’. Raisin’ a rumpus. Come on, I’ll even show ya how to work the press. Just take the brush. It’s easy! We’ve all done it, and it’s not like you don’t know how.”

The other girls shouted their encouragements in unison, crowding in for the coup de grâce.

“Take it Trixie!”

“Grab the brush, Trix, or I’m coming over there!”

“Do it, darling.”

“Please?”

Twilight’s voice rose above them all. “I’m gonna make you my best friend!”

Trixie stared at the glistening bristles of the brush.

***

The office door creaked open. The girls cut their chatter and straightened up in their chairs, putting on their docile student faces. Pinkie stuffed the last of her oozing ice cream cake into her mouth.

Principal Celestia stepped into the room, alone.

She paused to re-pin her crooked sun brooch. “I beg your pardon. It seems I took the last of the Prozac this morning. Early bird gets the worm, they say. Now, girls, what did we learn here today?”

Sunset raised her hand. “I learned a valuable lesson, Principal Celestia. There are two kinds of students in this school: those who get brushed, and those who do the brushing. True friendship is possible only by knowing the difference.”

“Very good, Miss Shimmer,” Celestia beamed. “I feel comfortable going to the Board and reporting your full acclimation to the CHS school dynamic. Congratulations!” She stood and clapped in slow applause.

The Rainbooms gathered around Sunset for a stylish, well-groomed, coconut and barnyard-scented group hug. When they had finished squeezing and nuzzling, Celestia moved over behind a quiet Trixie.

“And have we come to an understanding with our little show-stopper?”

Her enormous hands enveloped Trixie’s shoulders. Trixie watched the long, pearly fingers begin to knead her neck and chest, and felt the press of a warm, lean abdomen against the back of her head. She glanced up, a dribble of vanilla ice cream leaking from the corner of her mouth. The brush was in her lap.

“Excellent,” noted Celestia. “Is there anything you’d like to say, Miss Lulamoon?” She drummed her sharp lacquered fingernails on Trixie’s collarbones.

“Trixie feels … dirty.”

“Ah,” Celestia breathed, “nothing some fresh air and a brisk walk to the delicatessen won’t fix. Girls, would you like to join your new friend and myself for lunch? I have a private booth that should seat everyone.”

The girls were hungry. “Would we ever! … You bet, Principal Celestia! … I could eat a rhino! …” they shouted over each other.

“Wonderful! Who likes roast beef?”

Twilight and Sunset blushed.

“I do! … Me! Me! …” cried the others as they barged toward the door.

Twilight locked eyes with Trixie, fixing her with an ever-growing smile. “What about you, Trixie? Do you like the taste of roast beef?”

Trixie stared back until a violent vibration rattled her from behind. She craned her neck to look upward. Up Principal Celestia’s gurgling stomach, up her dull gold blazer, up her towering white throat and into her giant rosy eyes.

“Y-y-y-yes?” Trixie shrieked.

“I knew you would. And if you didn’t before, you’re going to like it. Real soon.”

Author's Note

This video (which inspired the story) may enhance your reading experience: